Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 11, 2017. Sunday.



I am riding in the back of a taxi. The driver, a dark-haired male in his thirties, is unfamiliar. Zsuzsanna is with me. There also seems to be at least one unknown female present as a passenger. She makes unusual comments as we ride through a mostly unlit area, as if she is uncertain of the intention of the cab driver or where we are going. We go through an odd area between two exterior (presumably) walls in a more isolated part of the unknown city. The walls are irregular (more like rock faces) and seem to have recesses with unknown features, perhaps living creatures, but this never becomes clear.

Several different times, the taxi goes up a staircase, similar to the one on Rose Street (but somehow never down one). I do not consider this unusual, even though we somehow are eventually outside and at ground level again, to later ride up another high flight of steps. The last staircase is slightly steeper than the previous but there is never any sense of fear or even wariness.

Finally, we get out of the taxi on the second floor of an apartment building, apparently where the driver lives. This does not seem unusual to me. (In fact, my dream self had no backstory memory or any destination in mind at any point.) The driver walks over to an unusual “table” in his kitchen, but which looks more like the walls we saw earlier, and is actually like a large irregular rock (though flat on the top) in the shape of a rectangular prism. The driver exclaims “Oh!” (as if surprised by something unseen) and waves his hand, but there is nothing there. He mentions that a wasp had emerged earlier from the “table” and seems to think that this event is also transpiring presently (though it is not). I do not feel threatened or alarmed in any way and calmly mention to all the others that there is nothing there.

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In this dream, the preconscious shows me, several times, the “staircase as consciousness shift” factor (here, as implied waking symbolism). Still, there is no discernible change in the waking transition as such (though in contrast to going up, going down steps typically either vivifies my dream or triggers full lucidity). Even more oddly, he pretends the flight symbol (hypnopompic start precursor) is present in the last scene when I do not see it or feel the “return flight” mood at all. (Obviously, I still eventually wake.)

It is a general rule that the preconscious becomes more dominant (even aggressive or uncommunicative) over time during a particular sleep cycle. Obviously, this is because waking up is a biological necessity. This did not seem so much like a glitch as a “practice run” inclusive of my usual waking symbolism over the last fifty years.

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Night of June 13, 2013. Friday.



I am back in Cubitis where I had not lived or been for many years, although I had seen images of the place on Google Maps fairly recently, with the added highway and such. It seems to be different in the sense of being some sort of school for people who record their dreams on a regular basis, or maybe that is only one purpose of it for one class. The “students” are mostly around sixteen to eighteen, perhaps, some older. I am not sure of my own age.

I go to my locker, which is rather large and somewhat like a metal version of my wife’s real-life wardrobe and in an outside cul-de-sac area that would otherwise have been where my family’s carport originally was (again, in Cubitis) in real life. It is facing south. I open it and the top area has five smaller piles of my dream journals, each stack about three or four high, not all of the same size and with different color and different style covers, some ring-bound, some plain. On the top one in each pile, there is either a large sticker of a lobster (in lighter orange/brown) or, in a couple cases, an actual toy plastic figure. Someone else had done this to my journals, and I am aware that it is some sort of strangely intimate, even sensual act - indicating some form of “kinship” as well. The lobsters seem to be holding small flowers in bunches (red carnations) in at least a few instances.

A little later, I speak with a girl (unknown) who is also going to the “dream journal class”. I have a feeling that she may have been the one to have put at least some of the stickers on the dream journal covers (even though I first got the impression it was a male when first opening the locker, as there were also some handwritten comments on the pages, diagonally, but cannot quite remember them, but most of those seemed like female handwriting). Her boyfriend appears, and there is some sort of odd communication relating to the classes and their timing or where the girl will be at a certain time - something about her getting a ride home as well.

There are some strange made-up “forced” emotions (seemingly made up by me just to make a dramatic scene at one point to perhaps shock myself into being more aware or lucid within the dream, which does work to a point - it works much better in actual sleep paralysis stages, though) in one part relating to the school from real life and how we are “due” to get there or be there in a certain time period. We only have about ten minutes and it is about three miles away to the south - and there is no transport. It is very dark outside and I go into the front yard. I am more lucid and decide to run (to the south) a bit. I notice, as I am running, that the yard is somehow mostly smooth rock everywhere, but with smaller pebbles and grains of dirt in a very sparse pattern. I notice a larger boulder-like structure in the perfect shape of a girl that is lying sort of on her stomach, but slightly on her side and somewhat up almost on “all fours”, but not quite. This is probably related to a recent real-life image and conversation relating to conspiracy theorists seeing human-like or animal-like figures (or alien technology parts) in every rock picture from Mars or the moon. The girl seems to have, for some reason, otter-like aspects or energies. Otters are “playful” but also known for their ability to crack shells/clams and mussels with rocks, actually using a rock as a tool like an early (primitive) human.

For a moment, I have a slight concern in wondering if it is a real girl who may need help, but then the scene changes somewhat.

A younger man more to the east, closer to the house/school is talking about his concerns in getting into town soon enough for the other classes. I tell him that I can just speed or teleport there in no time (although it seems more like I am actually moving there and back, in “reverse” upon returning, very rapidly). I then focus and feel myself fade out, then fade in to where the classes are, and then back to where I was, almost as if I had not even moved much at all. However, I am left wondering what I (my body) looked like just as the process began, especially because I heard the man yell behind me (becoming a blur) “Dude…what the f…?” in seeming amazement (likely the first time I have ever heard the word “dude” in a dream). Not much more happens. There did seem to be positive emotions in the part where I saw the toy lobsters and stickers, yet with a sense of wondering about the public itself and what they were really “up to”.

The last part may actually be a play on a popular gag (from my school days) when someone claims they can do something in a very short amount of time, remain motionless, and then ask “Want to see me do it again?”

UPDATE: Validated several precognitive facets for today, but not all had been written in this entry, so I left the other details out for now that I had not mentioned at all in the entry. The main one was that I was given a bunch of very small, wrapped-up red carnations (exactly as viewed in the dream) “to take home to my wife”. It was one of the women in the IGA store that I had not seen for months. I guess they were just left over or something, but they never did that before in the time I have lived here.