Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 17, 2017. Tuesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and our family as we appear now are living in the Cubitis house. There is a gentle rain. I am aware that our oldest son will be returning from his job (same job as in real life despite the erroneous 1978 setting of Florida rather than here in Australia). I contemplate if one of us should go and get him so that he will not get wet walking back in the rain. Zsuzsanna says that she will when the time comes.

I am in the living room with Zsuzsanna. I look out the windows into the Cubitis backyard (it seems to be late morning but still raining) and notice a row of tall purple larkspurs that are close to the windows, under the awnings, and parallel to the entire east side of the house. They are not yet in full bloom. I think about asking Zsuzsanna when she planted them (perhaps very early on the previous morning), as I do not recall when she could have done this, which puzzles me slightly as I consider how wonderfully industrious and sedulous she is.

In an area near the center of the large backyard are a few weeds where there is otherwise mostly short grass, but I also see about three or four potato plants in a couple random spots. It is raining, so I will pull out the weeds later. There is a vivid sense of love and peace.

Zsuzsanna tells me that our oldest son will probably be off work about an hour early, as people do not usually shop there when it is raining. (This turned out to be prescient curiously enough, and it has not happened in this way before. I fail to see why people would stay home from shopping just because it is raining, but I guess I forgot that some people are “depressed” by rainy weather, whereas I am not.)

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I have been a devoted dream journalist all my life (and I even married my literal dream girl) and yet have never held any interest or belief in “interpretation”, mainly because my dreams, other than literally prescient threads, naturally decode themselves prior to fully waking, revealing their origins and manner of synthesis, but also because my dreams have held the same basic components and patterns, especially variations of waking symbolism and the same RAS triggers (such as emergent alertness to real environmental noise) since early childhood.

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Look closely at the threads that are accurate and those that have no basis for accuracy.

My personified subconscious (dream self) is aware that I am happily married to Zsuzsanna, yet we are living in a house in America (Florida), where Zsuzsanna (and our children) have never been and I have not been since 1978 when I was only seventeen. (Zsuzsanna and our children have always lived in Australia.) This is not even the house in Wisconsin I was living in years before Zsuzsanna and I first began writing to each other.

My dream self is aware that it is raining in real life at our present location (and in fact, this dream began within seconds of falling asleep again) and (again, as in the above paragraph) I am in a different house in my dream, also aware that it is raining, yet without the awareness of where I am in time and space (and how interesting is that?).

I am aware that our oldest son has a job and even the exact location of where he works, and yet again, there is no conflict between the impossible contrast of living in Cubitis (an isolated rural area through which only a small highway intersected) and in an urban area in a different country. (My dream self usually does not find the implication of either bilocation or mixed-up composites, which are very common in my dreams, as unusual in any way.)

I am aware that there are weeds in our backyard in real life (it has been raining continuously for a few days), yet (again) this is rendered into the backyard of an incorrect setting.

Despite the otherwise fictional nature of this scenario, there are a few real-life factors, and even a typical thread of prescience (which I have always experienced on a day-to-day basis, yet do not always go into detail about as my entries are often already very long).

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