Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 8, 2018. Tuesday.



I allow the awareness of my physical body to become autosymbolic in the rendering of a silver van. I recognize the essence of water as dream state induction, the gentle beautiful rain splashing lightly on me at times from my left through the open window of the van. The van is driving itself without incident even though I am behind the steering wheel. Zsuzsanna is to my right in this dream (and I am sleeping more down on my stomach, so she is to my right side in reality, though I most often sleep on my left side). The van was meant to move through rain, which is the essence of well-being and healing factors, the brain and heart about 73% water at that. We go through a sparse forest of young trees; the trees on each side pass by in both directions. I do not reflect much upon such impossibility. We phase through a chain-link fence.

I enjoy going down the escalator of Hinkler in the van, with brief puzzlement of what may or may not be a car wash as we go elsewhere. Other people are walking around, shopping. Miniature cars drive above me, on the ceiling, upside-down, their headlights creating a harmonious awareness. The van drives itself through a hall in an unknown building that is just big enough for it to move through. Then in a more augmented vestibular awareness, we fly far above a lake near early evening.

Rain upon me in the dream state is so pleasing. Whatever vehicle my body becomes auto symbolically, car, van, airplane, boat, there is still flight potential.

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Morning of December 2, 2015. Wednesday.



This dream is about as illogical and distorted as they come relating to perspective and focus, though there are a few vivid parts (such as when I read the writing on our ceiling - and for some reason, ceiling writing has only appeared in dreams over the last year or so). The location is unknown. It may be a distorted version of our first apartment on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. The rooms are all in a line with at least two doors opening to a public hall.

Over time, there is a focus on UFO events. This makes no sense, as I am only ever inside our apartment looking at our wall (on the other side of the public hall’s wall only) and ceiling. Still, it is somehow as if I am seeing into the “real” sky at times (though not at all consistent in perspective and awareness). An egg-shaped light moves on our ceiling and down our wall and at one point, seems to direct a ray into a “military building”.

This “military building” (to my left - on the other end of our apartment) turns out to be our television. I go over to it and see a young male (who reminds me of classmate Steve J when he was a teenager). He seems to be in a radio station and there are no other people visible. The ceiling at his location seems to have been damaged and he ducks a couple times as if the ceiling is unstable or shaking, but the scene is not very dramatic. Oddly, I am able to talk to him as if he can see me directly through the television screen. I ask him if he saw the ray of light come down and hit his building but he says “no”. Still, static and distorted horizontal bars appear on the picture after a time and I am wondering what is going on. (As far as I recall, this is the first time I have dreamt of talking with someone in a television broadcast. I do question the logic of him being able to directly see me with no evidence of a camera anywhere on my side - as again, he seems to look directly at me from the screen - but I do not become lucid. We talk for awhile but my dream shifts slightly).

I am then in a conversation with two people that remind me only a little of my sister Carol and her second husband Mel (and there seem to be aspects of other people’s faces integrated, though I cannot be sure who they are). I explain to them how I watch the sky at certain times very late at night or very early in the morning prior to sunrise and always see mysterious lights (lifelong dream focus) - some of which seem natural and some of which seem based on unknown technology. Yet again, this seems “true to reality” as happening all the time, but in reality, such events only happened twice (once in Florida with a slowly moving egg-shaped pale light and once in Wisconsin where it looked the same but was immediately followed by an “explosion” of the aurora borealis).

Eventually, I notice a large lump in our bed, implied head (under the quilt) nearest the wall (our bed lengthways out from the wall near our kitchen door when assuming our Gellibrand Street apartment). I become wary and uncertain how this seeming stranger got into our home and wonder if he is dangerous and I also notice our kitchen door to the public hall is open. I go and get my barbel and hit him hard on the shoulder from the side of the bed though not hard enough to badly injure him. He moves out from under the blanket a bit (without getting up) and it turns out to be my brother-in-law Robert S. This is a surprise but I apologize and ask him if I hurt him that badly and he says “no”, though seeming quite groggy.

When farther back from our open kitchen door, I see writing on our ceiling directly above our bed, in three rows of hand-printed felt-tip marker ink. I read it closely and it says “First faking by Bob. It ain’t here.” Looking back a couple times later, it shows the same text as before (which is atypical as writing often changes when looking back). Apparently, Robert (Bob) had somehow caused all the UFO events due to being annoyed with people believing in such things - but this is not certain because when I ask him if he wrote the message on our ceiling, he says “yes” but later says that he did not do it.

From here, the couple that vaguely reminds me of my sister Carol and her second husband approach me. The male asks me what I want to eat, showing me a large serving tray (what is it with serving trays in dreams lately?) which reminds me somewhat of the layout of a cheap and virtually inedible TV dinner (though about twice the size). I am not hungry and not keen on eating right now and this realization, along with a slight frustration on knowing how to say “no” to the other male, shakes me out of my dream.