Blue_Opossum

Morning of February 2, 2018. Friday.



I find myself in an unknown and unfamiliar location, though as my dream self, I do not think of it as such. Zsuzsanna is present in the majority of scenes, which involve my usage of a raygun in an unusual activity.

At first, only sparks come out. I find myself in an unfamiliar room where an unknown female (of about thirty) sits near a desk. As I aim it upwards at nothing in particular, sparks fly out and one lands on the female’s knee, which apparently hurts. I apologize for this, but when the sparks land on me, they create a pleasant sensation.

In most other scenes, I am outside, though under some sort of shelter with industrial implications of which include a convergence of many different horizontal and vertical pipes. There is a square opening through the ceiling and roof of no more than one foot by one foot. I have an unusual false memory that the moon powers the gun, but I only use it to fire upward. I stand in one area, aiming it through the opening in the ceiling. Over time, the miniature radar dish at the front of the gun starts shining when I hold it upward in a certain position that apparently reflects the moon’s light. I do not actually see the moon at any point.

I perform this act a number of times. It seems to make my dream more vivid each time. I go to a different area that has a smaller opening, hold my gun upward, and move it about until I see the moon shine on the miniature radar dish in a circular fullness and then I pull the trigger. The beam of light that emerges is about an inch in diameter.

There eventually seems to be a vague backstory, based on an emergent false memory, relating to a recent alien invasion, though there is no hint of any impending threat. I aim the gun at another part of the ceiling in the realization that it will destroy the structure. I wake with the perception that I had accomplished the defeat of a supposed alien threat.

Explanatory supplement (Saturday, 3 February 2018): This dream occurs by way of liminal dream control, which means that my dream self is habitually acting out the dynamics of oneironautics (which represents the nature of the dream state, not waking life) without being actively aware that the environment and situation is of the dream state as with conscious-self-based lucidity. This is based on autosymbolic cues from subliminal threads of the conscious self identity. This should be obvious from how my dream self’s actions vivified the dream state even though my dream self’s motive from the outset was not clear. My dream self eventually focused on destroying the alien building. This was the liminal space barrier between my dream self identity and my conscious self identity, the opening in the ceiling being autosymbolism for my dream’s potential exit point back into viable consciousness. (It was somewhat small, which is moot, as the entire building was apparently gone at the waking point.) The miniature radar dish, glowing more over time and producing more energy and a wider beam of light, signified the increase in neural activity as the emergent consciousness implementation.

This invalidates the asinine belief that the conscious self experiences something that must be “interpreted” solely in conscious self terms, incorrectly assumed as “from the subconscious” (rather than correctly understood as RAS mediation between the transient dream self identity and the conscious self identity). It is the dream self that is the subconscious, which is coalesced by way of RAS (Reticular Activating System) into consciousness through the waking transition, which is what a dream is (which most people have no understanding of).

Additionally, Zsuzsanna’s dream showed threads of associations with my dream in the very common but inexplicable (by society’s beliefs) patterns. This is evidence that RAS mediation is transpersonal, and distance does not seem to matter (as this was occurring before I even met Zsuzsanna, and we had grown up on opposite sides of the world).

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Morning of May 18, 2017. Thursday.



In the backyard of our present address, a garden is present in an area near the southeast corner, closest to the fence on the east side. There is an area of ground that is about half an oval (the flat half to the fence). In this garden, which is about three feet long, are a number of moonflowers (tropical white morning-glories). I view them at night and there is an unusual spotlight effect on them (though this does not seem wrong or unlikely to me).

I look out during the next morning (with no real sense of much time passing relative to dream time) and there is no garden, not even the oval-shaped area of ground. I “realize” that they are only visible at night under certain conditions (even though they are technically called morning-glories).

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Night of September 29, 1976. Wednesday.



In my dream, I am fishing at El Jobean in the afternoon. The weather is very nice at first. There are a lot of other people of various ages, some fishing, but not that close to where I am.

Over time, I notice that I get a bite now and then, but every time I reel in, it looks like a tiny piece of tin foil moving just under the water and is not there later on when all the line and hook comes fully out of the water, as if something is following my bait, which may be a minnow or tiny shiny fish. This annoys me somewhat. It seems to be a strange and growing mystery. Other people are not noticing what is happening and a few people are leaving now and then, as it is getting later in the afternoon. The scene is very vivid, yet I cannot work out the reason for the small tinfoil-like “creature” under the water or what sometimes seems like an actual gum wrapper section somehow moving in consistent patterns (or maybe someone is playing a practical joke).

Oddly, there is a utility pole to my left, with a three-digit number painted at an odd diagonal angle about chest-high and an additional mark of some kind. It seems sort of out-of-place near the beach.

It is getting darker and darker and time seems to be compressed a bit. Everyone has left the beach but me and it has grown slightly cooler.

Once again, the silvery, reflective form is under the water, but as the sun has just gone down, things change a bit. A very large and strange silvery manta ray, which is somehow walking like a person, “slimmer” than a real manta ray, and about as tall as a person (or a bit taller) is coming up from the shoreline with its “wings” out. I see it as potentially dangerous. It is very vivid (not quite lucid - but almost). I manage to back up and grab some sort of gig or harpoon with my left hand and am able to send it into the creature and kill it. I feel “heroic” somehow, as if I am part of a legend of some sort. There is a subtle sense of rain and motion of waves as if the scene is being “painted” by those aspects. It is an eerie scene, yet somehow not nightmarish to me.

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There is mostly only moon symbolism here. This includes the silver manta ray, the fact it came from deep levels of the ocean (unconscious mind), the fact that silvery “moonlight” was glimmering from under the water’s surface prior to its emergence, the fact that I was fishing (seeking connection with my unconscious state to resolve my eventual waking transition), and the fact that a telephone pole appeared in an unlikely place near the beach - as a telephone pole represents communication between different levels of consciousness while in the dream state. The nature of this dream firstly going from afternoon to nighttime is also obvious in this meaning as it is analogous to “the moon coming out”. This is validated by the fact that the manta ray is an intriguing flight symbol which represents a very specific level of consciousness. The rain adds to this effect as rain also represents communication from deeper levels of consciousness and flow of thought while in the dream state. To conclude, this is a circadian rhythms dream with adolescent factors.

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What was interesting about this is that the next afternoon, the utility pole near the highway (but still a part of our front yard area) had the exact same white paint markings as from my dream and at the same height. Unfortunately, I do not have a photo on hand and did not sketch out the somewhat oddly painted number (could not fully tell what it was - only that it looked the same as my dream image and had at least one six - or what looked like one). It had definitely not been there earlier (even my father mentioned it and confirmed it was brand new). This is one of those times where I just reflected on how curious that was (especially since there was no seeming connection with any “silver manta” in any way - and that part of my dream was quite “mundane” compared to the “epic battle”). It mostly seemed to me as if they had worked at “marking” the poles for when they were to put in the small green utility boxes relating to underground cables (which I did not hear about until later). It did look a little like a graffiti tag, but we were “in the middle of nowhere” and it had never happened before.