Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 1, 2017. Saturday.



I am at first floating over an early evening scene (though it is still daylight) of 1940s gangsters driving around, possibly in Chicago. Being semi-lucid, I automatically perceive the foundation of the dream state as a “blissful flood” (and have since very young), with water flowing in slowly, with beautiful vivid reflections. As water symbolizes sleep and the dream state (even as in the “Little Nemo” comic strip), I feel relaxed, even though some of the gangsters now sit on the roofs of their cars, appearing frustrated that their activities were interrupted. My semi-lucidity fades slightly and I then absentmindedly wonder if this is part of a movie where things had gone wrong with the set due to water from another set (perhaps for a Navy movie) going past a barrier.

Having been incorporeal, I now seem corporeal. The gangsters eye me suspiciously but do not seem dangerous. I ride with Zsuzsanna in a Venetian gondola, though I do not see the oarsman. Our boat slowly moves past them as they sit on the tops of their 1940s cars to our left, the water halfway up over the windows. Zsuzsanna and I are intimate as my dream moves toward the waking transition (and waking transition symbolism in contrast to dream induction symbolism).

The water seems more shallow as we go through a tunnel. At first, I am wary of going into a tunnel. It appears that some sawhorse traffic barricades fall over from water coming in from “over itself” at the end of one part of the tunnel (which makes no sense - as if the water was halfway up but somehow solid or remaining in place even at the opening (perhaps somehow jellified), with some “normal” water moving over the original level somewhat like a small waterfall).

There is light ahead and I get a very vague memory of when Pinocchio was inside a whale, though I do not think that is the case with us. “That’s it, over there,” I say as I point. There is a loose association with the television show in April of 1986 about Al Capone’s vaults (“The Mystery of Al Capone’s Vaults”).

A young Geraldo Rivera sits on straw on a slightly damp surface inside a larger hollow area. He has a bottle of wine (possibly meant to represent the sole bottle of bathtub gin originally found in the vault). I look very closely at the bottle of wine because there is writing on it. I need to read it and understand its meaning. The brand name of the wine seems to be “Cortex”.

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Even though the preconscious (when it is personified) is almost always a different character, it is easily recognizable by additional clues (often either direct or subliminal identification as the waking prompt and the particular level of consciousness just prior to waking, as the role of the preconscious is to make the dreamer more aware of the fallacy of his temporarily skewed dream self identity and bringing the dreamer out of the dream state) as well as mood, shift in the clarity of a dream, and dominance in many cases. In this case, the common water induction transmutes to the waking symbolism. “Cortex” is a direct clue; “the outer layer of the cerebrum, composed of folded grey matter and playing an important role in consciousness”.

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Morning of October 25, 2015. Sunday.



I am looking down into the throat of an extinct volcano. This will be fun to jump into in my lucid awareness. I cannot see that far down, but do not expect to be harmed in any way. (It is fairly common for me to deliberately jump from a higher place to then soar about in my dreams. It is often very exhilarating, especially when there is such realistic momentum.)

I jump, falling stomach down, arms out, though now see a giant spiderweb across the whole cylindrical area below. My dream goes into an odd state where I am somehow vaguely aware of my real physical body. I am not interested in any giant spider shenanigans.

After a short time, the giant spiderweb I land on, on my stomach, turns out to be a thin sheet of glass that is somehow stopping my fall. It is full of spider-web-like cracks. There is a jagged hole where my legs are dangling down just a bit. I then consider that it may actually be ice, not glass. Eventually, I get a subtle impression that it is cellophane, but that would seem unlikely regarding the fact I remain suspended on whatever I am on for a time.

The scene shifts to where I am crawling through a horizontal cylindrical tunnel that is getting smaller and smaller. Some sort of “living rock salt” feature (as perhaps of an actual surreal “throat” of a larger creature) around the whole tunnel may digest me at one point. Obviously I do not want this. I emerge near the top of a high hill but am “stuck” inside the outer area of the tunnel to just below my chest. Perhaps I will just remain here staring out over a small isolated town for however many years or centuries. I do not feel in danger, just mildly annoyed that I cannot move. I will not call for help; just wait until I am fully “back” in my real body. I rest my chin in my hand, trying to hold back my aggravation and very minor embarrassment (though no other person had been around at any point).

Morning of June 21, 2013. Friday.



Here are a couple dreams of the same date with a few different scenes.

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There is a flood again, but the water comes mostly from large tidal waves that somehow move more inland. Some people are looking for survivors as there is still a danger from more flooding.

There is a strange scene of riding the fast, powerful waves just to get to another area, perhaps to our house, as I was getting my youngest son and oldest daughter from some sort of group meeting or visit in a building from a room that was a bit like my old apartment on King Street.

A woman is looking for her young daughter of about four or five years and I help a few people dig through the mud near a curb. She was trapped under a lot of mud near the curb and must have somehow gone through the storm drain, which is also filled with mud, and yet she is somehow still alive. However, it would be impossible in real life to take pieces out of the street and sidewalk so easily, although it is broken up a bit in my dream. The girl’s breathing makes bubbles come up through the mud and a thinner layer of water over the mud. Also, it seems there are several storm drain chimney-like sections very close together.

In another dream, I have my old snub-nosed revolver and end up protecting a few people from another person who has a gun, but who sort of becomes a friend. This was probably heavily influenced by a two-part episode of “Deep Space Nine” I had just seen (“Past Tense” parts 1 and 2).

There is trouble with another person who seems to be a threat to the area, but then Superman arrives (I have not seen the new “Superman” movie yet - “Man of Steel” - but may in a few years - also really tired of hearing the word “reboot”, which is mindless, way overused “trendspeak”).

There are about five repeating “takes” in a row in this dream that are mostly the same. I shoot Superman on the right side of his stomach, and he seems surprised and is badly injured (but not dead). People are amazed. All I did was use a Kryptonite bullet, which anyone could do, really.

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I have tentatively decided to classify part of this as precognitive (I never do this unless it is verified with at least a few details involved, but this still happens continuously and has since earliest memory), as my young niece in the USA had to drive through flood waters around the time I was dreaming this - around the same streets as in this dream - and I last saw her in real life when she was very young. Could be coincidence in this case, though, as floods are a fairly common theme, both precognitive and somewhat symbolic, perhaps. However, almost all my dreams contain at least a few clearer implied precognitive elements of one kind or another.

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Morning of August 17, 1975. Sunday.



In my dream, I am in the middle school building (DMS), probably implied to be in eighth grade, though I will be going to ninth grade in a different building on August 25, 1975. There is a vague lucidity, enough to use my dream to focus within in expectation of something new, curious, or interesting, in this case, finding a secret passageway as I have often utilized in both liminal dream control and lucidity.

I insert some coins into a seldom-used commercial vending machine (against the north wall in the hall, probably somewhere near the middle of the building) to get a soft drink. However, there is a different response, which I had seemingly been at least partly expecting - based on, I believe, a recent student rumor. You had to put the right combinations of coins in and press the correct product-select buttons to activate and allow entry into a secret area or apparently another world.

The soda vending machine slides over (in the manner of a sliding door) to reveal a secret passageway behind the wall. I soon find myself climbing horizontally on a giant rose plant that winds horizontally through a long large metallic tunnel. This becomes sort of frustrating and boring over time, but I do not seem to be in that much danger (probably because of the usual liminal dream state awareness). Near the end of my dream, I look far down and see the lost city (from “Land of the Lost”, the original television series) but I only see Enik standing around, though he does not notice me. I do not see much potential in exploring a city of Sleestaks at this point and I am unsure how to get down to the area anyway. It is now as if I am looking at the area from a very high cliff.

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Vestibular system correlation (what the majority of my dreams have at one point or another since earliest memory) kicked in fairly quickly, though without fully waking me or even more dominant waking autosymbolism, though there were vague partial awakenings while I was climbing the horizontally-oriented vine, horizontal of course, because of my liminal awareness of how my body was oriented in sleep.

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