lucid

Morning of May 8, 2014. Thursday.



Firstly, in the open expanse of sky, I am aware of a small “guard booth”, similar to the building in “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” (1968) where Lionel Jeffries sings “Posh!” (though that is actually a fancy outhouse, not a guard booth). Nothing else exists but blue sky and the hovering guard booth, which has no side windows by the way, but with the front and back entirely open. However, it is not Lionel Jeffries, but a young go-go dancer, a version of my wife seemingly “between two worlds” (or within a partial dream world just now being rendered, as if the booth was “designing” or “completing” the final stages of the go-go persona and look). This is because it seems like an isolated foyer as well as a sort of “gate” (vaguely reminiscent of an arc trellis, I think). I attempt contact, but the contact seems “filtered” somehow as if there is another world beyond which is on the “other side” and a bit on this side within this “portal” of sorts. (I am certain there is a play here, but it is mostly just because of doubled words, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, “Posh Posh” and “go-go”.)

Because of this, I looked up “posh” in the online dictionary and one of the first things I saw was “So in Punch for September 25, 1918, do we find the first recorded instance posh, meaning ‘smart and fashionable’.”

The name “Punch” curiously brought back a prior section of the dream sequence that was a bit unusual. It was a Punch and Judy puppet show in a large park in possibly late morning. To the right, there is some sort of ladder-like structure going out from the front of the puppet stage that does not seem to be an intended part of the show. At times, though, I am reminded of a railroad track. I am weirdly “waiting” for the puppets to “notice” this (as if they were human). This ambiguous switching between ladder and railroad track has occurred at other points in my life - I think it relates to rate of dream vividness/cohesion or something (based on whether the “H” is horizontal or vertical - vertical meaning that you might be becoming more lucid or waking up). Both represent the letter “H”, though, which is also coincidentally the first and last letter of my wife’s maiden name. As a ladder, there is a brief idea that another puppet will “escape” by climbing down it, but then I remember that hand puppets do not have legs.

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Eventually, the two hand puppets take notice of the “ladder/railroad track”, now moving slightly “snake-like” as if it had been meant to be a part of their routine. However, it seems to be a “mistake” in the show whereby a real train is opposite the puppet stage (the vibrations thereby causing the intentionally unseen prop to slide out of a container behind the puppet stage curtain and into view like some sort of ironic or comical foreshadowing) and heading towards the audience. Judy waves her hand to somehow acknowledge to the audience about what almost seems like a scheduled event or some such (as if the audience is going to “get clobbered” by being hit by the oncoming train). There does not seem to be a fearful awareness in the audience yet, creating the impression that it is an illusion perhaps, though this is not certain. The puppets seem “puzzled” about the audience not getting up to leave or perhaps run away…fade to black.

There has also been a very clear and ongoing recurring aspect of hypnagogia and beginning dream sequences over the last few months, which involves very intricate black wrought iron gates, which stand out more than anything else. This particular one had a heart symbol in the middle of the top section and was quite complex in the various thinner partial spirals and twists in the design. This one looks like a composite of Fertöd-château and one that appears to be in Salem (but with the heart outline being larger). At one point, the gate opens and the “landscape” behind it shifts into a beautiful fractal design that is primarily blue and circular, with an orange “border”. It is beautiful and like looking into deep space with no sense of being ungrounded in any way.

Morning of April 29, 2014. Tuesday.



My wife and I are living in Cubitis seemingly in the present. However, it looks as it did in the early 1970s for the most part until the shorter trip northward.

In my dream, I wake up on Easter in my old bedroom. When I look out the southernmost window (west wall of room) to the north, I notice two cars parked in the driveway and another one parked north to south in the yard near where the three silver oaks had been (but are not in the yard in my dream). I tell my wife about it and we are both really annoyed at this. The people are possibly visitors of the newer people who moved into the house north of us (Harold M’s old house) on the other side of the orange grove. A little later, I notice a rusty old car body only (with no chassis to be seen anywhere) blocking the driveway near where it opens out onto Highway Seventeen, oriented south to north. This makes me really aggravated, because it means that in order to walk beyond our house, we would have to walk down into the culvert and out again to get to the wayside of the highway (oddly, I do not consider walking through the neighbor’s yard). I say this to my wife.

Later, I go outside and see that there is another junk car (body only, no chassis) also longways blocking another driveway two houses to the south. I wonder what other people are thinking of these other invasive people. I notice that part of the house now actually looks like our present one, which does not seem that unusual at the time; that is, it has the “same” porch and living room at that point, but perpendicular to how it really would be in reality.

After a time, I notice an old (1969?) John Deere tractor heading my way, first noticing it approaching from about four houses south. It has no driver (but travels mostly in an even path) and eventually stops when it crashes with a thud into the southwestern corner of our porch (this is probably a distorted “replay” of when a car crashed into our porch in real life).

A little later, it seems my father is alive and well and living at our address (yet seems only around fifty and fairly muscular - though he was very muscular even in his seventies, when he still sometimes looked to be around his late forties when compared to others). He has some folded papers that he takes out of his left pants pocket which relate to a list of some things (as a receipt) I supposedly bought in 1984 and he seems concerned about all the money I spent but for some reason, I tell him that I did not actually buy any of whatever is in the list, but that it is some sort of “prop” for a stage play or some such. We pick up and arrange some tools in the shed, putting things back where they should be.

We decide to clean up the yard, starting with the tractor and the car body at the end of our driveway. My father somehow effortlessly picks up the John Deere tractor with one hand and arm and I pick up the car body with one hand and arm. It does not seem that unusual that we are doing this. We go north one additional section beyond the neighbor to the north where there is a (fictional) junkyard and place the two items in a pile. The area (same owners?) also seems to serve partly as a lumber company. The owners are walking around and had told us where to put the “junk” and after we set it down, we return to remove the parked cars, which seems a bit “mean”, but also amusing. We receive a fairly small payment.

After this, I enjoy some intimate time with three very passive younger copies of my wife in the southern side-yard who are also all dressed identically in yellowish and white (somewhat bridal-looking, but above the knees) formal ruffled dresses, though I can only seem to “work” with two at a time. There are a few other (unknown) people walking around who I mostly ignore. At this point, my dream intensifies into full lucidity (and lasts a fairly long time) and I have the usual concern about what my real body is doing at the time or whether I am uncovered in reality while in my dream. This does not shorten or negate my dream, though. (At least I am not focused on whether or not my real body is sleepwalking in the street during busy traffic during full dream lucidity, as I sometimes do.)

Morning of April 17, 2014. Thursday.



The setting is very similar to our backyard, and it probably would be our backyard were it not for a group of Aboriginal Australian girls moving from near the front of the house along the side, seemingly coming to talk to me (perhaps I am trespassing). They are mostly dressed in blue jeans and casual blouses and tank tops. It seems to be late afternoon. I am only semi-lucid and I am thinking of some sort of “trick” (in case I am absentmindedly trespassing and thus to avoid a confrontation by going over to what appears to be a public-park-like area) which involves walking through the tall wooden fence (which looks very similar to the one we have in real life). I move one slat on the fence (so that it is only still attached near the top by one nail) that is almost to the end of the backyard (perhaps the fifth slat back from the end corner) and am able to step through sideways with just a little difficulty. However, I end up in an area (which may either be a public park or another backyard, though seems almost like a woodland area) that also has a large group of Aboriginal Australian girls who seem a bit annoyed at my antics or appearance from the other yard (it is possible that the two groups are having a feud with each other).

An older female of about seventy or so, with white hair, asks me if I have seen her husband. There is some sort of short conversation she continues with, with me, relative to whether he has been “left alone” (I am not sure if he was supposedly on the other side of the fence or had disappeared or become lost - I get the impression she means that he might have even died) which seems a bit odd and with an ambiguous meaning; that is, “being left alone” in a negative sense (and not having a partner to share life with) and “being left alone” with a positive implication as in not being bothered. I am trying to work out the odd ambiguity as my dream looses focus, the older lady’s eyes being quite vivid and intense and I am not sure what to say because I am confused about the meaning. I say something like “People have never left me alone in my life,” (coming off as a bit sarcastic) which does not sound quite right, as I am supposed to be talking about her husband, not myself, though I have no idea who he is or about anything else that is going on.

Morning of April 14, 2014. Monday.



This was a very nice and peaceful dream and it lasted longer on average than other dreams of this type, though not as nice and relaxing as my recent tidal wave dreams that seemed like healing sessions as well as this dream did (mostly as water is autosymbolism for REM sleep and the absence of emotion and the release of physical tension). It is very vivid and my dream self is rendered as corporeal, enjoying all the nice giant snakes swimming around in the ocean. There are at least six or seven of them. They move their bodies about in complex patterns, rolling in the water, seemingly enjoying themselves. The head of the black and red one, which is about as big as a car, comes very close to my face and then turns and goes about its business.

I am mostly, at least at the beginning, on a European powerboat. I am not sure if it is around dawn or dusk at first. It may be dusk, as I did listen to the Charlie Pride song, “The Snakes Crawl at Night” probably too many times as a child. “When the sun goes down, then the snakes will pla-ay…” though he was not actually talking about snakes in the song at all, but when you are that young, you do not understand a lot of things.

I like these giant snakes, especially the black and red and purple ones. They are fun to play with and ride around on and are more assertive and confident over normal-sized ones (an association with the movie “Dinosaurus” seen several times as a child, though it was a brontosaurus that the boy rode, not a giant snake), which sometimes just slither off or hide. I am reminded of Cecil, from “Beany and Cecil”, which I used to watch on my older sister Marilyn’s television as a child.

Eventually, there are less and less giant snakes and I assume they are swimming off into the sunset, which is quite beautiful.

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Obviously, not all snake dreams are healing dreams, but the fact that I was lucid in this case utilizes that understanding, as my conscious self identity is inherently extant to a viable degree in such dreams. For me, snakes and snakelike creatures have often been autosymbolism for stomach cramps due to the similarity of the shape and coiling as with the human intestine. However, they are often in more realistic scenarios as simply the waking alert factor of RAS modulation that even monkeys probably dream of as such (and I doubt monkeys ever dream of snakes as healing factors or as representing other monkeys).

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Morning of April 9, 2014. Wednesday. (Wedding anniversary; married April 9, 1994.)



I am at a basketball game (yet I have not been to a real one in many years) and over time, I notice people leaving. I focus on the player with the number twenty-two on his top for a short time. Outside, floating above the landscape, I see that a hundred or so people are standing about and form a heart symbol in honor of our wedding anniversary.



In real life several months back, I grouped all the standing villagers (including the hundreds of additional ones converted by the monks) in the expansion pack of “Age of Empires” (Aztecs) into a heart shape, as well as others standing about in a formation that read “I love Zsuzsanna”. It is one of the only computer games I have ever played much in the last twenty years and played around with because of how easy it was to not only win, but to go to extremes with resources and hundreds of extra villagers (or soldiers) long after the game has been technically won (where only one more easy step is required to actually finish it and end the game play itself if or when desired).

Morning of April 6, 2014. Sunday.



This was a night I went straight into fully lucid dreaming and could not help it at all (mild but pleasant sleep paralysis). There are a few different sections. However, none of the dreams were scripted in any way (although I did use pulsing for several hours prior, primarily tulpa beckoning). I find that thinking of a familiar song with a persistent riff will sometimes automatically keep you in a lucid state even if you cannot technically hear it in state. This one was quite intense; an amazing level of lucidity I hope to enhance even more in the future.

The first part was a bit shorter, and I was awakened by movement (my spouse) as well as outside noise. It is how one type of dream has started since earliest memory. I am in a very wealthy-looking room (related to the wooden floor style and so on) and with no other people around. I am present, but without body (my “floating” form). As I float around in “orb” form, I study the beautiful designs in the floor and walls and window types. The only furniture is a beautiful antique table and three bentwood chairs, a little more elaborate than in reality. I know I am dreaming and in “orb” state (which is just a bit beyond “stopped” hypnagogia), so I start to mentally focus on “allowing” myself to become more “in-dream”. My lucidity increases more and more, and the dream “tunes in” with even more fullness and clarity. I almost have a body now. There is a light breeze outside. I notice the French doors are open and I can see a few leaves fall at about a forty-five degree angle.

As I am standing there, in a state of peace and bliss, my thoughts drift just a little and one of the bentwood chairs rises in the air and “straddles” the other one at an angle, but with only a mild scraping and clacking. The rest of the furniture starts to move very slightly and mostly a noise outside takes me out of sleep. This “moving furniture by will in a mostly empty room” has been going on since earliest memory, but was most common in the early 1990s.

Later, I am in an unfamiliar outside environment. I walk up to an incredibly elaborate matte black wrought iron double-gate. Its complexity and beauty cause me to almost forget I am dreaming. I look closer and see a large black rose also made of iron. The rose is about head-height and seems to be part of the locking unit at first.

I become aware that my breath blows out onto the black rose and I actually see it “ignite”, that this, the lower petals glow red, like fire. Several tulpas in elaborate costumes (most with the typical complex tiaras and unusual clothing material in combined transparent and opaque layers) are near me and I sense an overwhelming love. I am not sure if my breathing on the black rose was a good idea, but the petals fly off like ash and float through the air as the embers become dimmer and transform into black butterflies with red spots.

From there, things go a bit weird. More gates appear, moving up and down, each a little different than the previous and each about five feet from the previous.

Over time, I notice the ground rising in certain areas. It becomes a bit more rocky, and about three shades of red glow up through various sections of the ground. I then realize it is about fifty-percent lava and about fifty-percent dirt. I am not concerned. I know I am dreaming and quite stable for the time being. I watch more and more lava push out into the areas near the gates. I take a deep breath and soon, the lava starts to cool and oddly enough, very tiny streams of ice cold water start spraying out from the solidifying lava just like a garden sprinkler. It looks a bit silly (sort of like “fake special effects”) so I start laughing…

Night of April 4, 2014. Friday.



This is one of the only times in recent years I have deliberately tried to focus on a person I did not know at all (other than as an assumed bizarre and relentlessly narcissistic persona), though I have (not by intent) dreamt of the YouTube hillbilly conspiracy theorist a few times (one dream being precognitive of his finding a much younger wife).

In my dream, there is only one main scene of a man riding backwards on a horse. He goes about in circles seeming very delighted and pleased. There seems no threat of injury. This is close to being a “glowing dream” but does not reach that visual quality (that is, a dream where everything seems to glow from within, sort of like a photographic negative but with correct color). He leans forward over the back of the horse, his upper body eventually being nearly horizontal to the horse. His head, with the side of it touching the horse’s back (as if seemingly attempting to hear something - but probably only incidental in appearance as such) is mostly over the croup and his hands open and about the horse’s hips for the most part. He continues to seem delighted as the horse gallops about but he never sees me at any point. He seems very proud and fulfilled over how “well” he is doing in a sort of absentminded, yet totally certain way.

He is dressed informally and has flushed cheeks with a reddish nose and even a reddish chin, with a sort of odd pale complexion as if out of the sun for a long time or appearing to have a continuous “alcohol complexion”. He grins in euphoria. It is almost as if he views the horse as his own body. Even though he is riding backwards, it seems to be how things have “always been” for him, almost as if he is not aware that a horse has a head.

Eventually, he has a very large bed-sheet (or possibly a picnic blanket), wearing it over himself sort of like an implied cape, leaning down closer to the back even more as if the horse were like a bed, with the tail being the head of the bed. Eventually, he covers himself completely (somehow able to hold onto part of it) as the sheet moves up and about almost like distorted wings of an airplane. I stand puzzled and wondering if he will see me, but no. At one point, the sheet waves like a flag. I continue to watch, feeling a sense of hilarity as well as a sincere pity.

Night of March 27, 2014. Thursday.



I am wandering about in an unknown neighborhood (possibly in late afternoon); could be either the USA or Australia, though it is probably meant to be the USA as there is snow about, and the weather would be correct if assuming Wisconsin.

I move my hand over a green picket fence and then a mailbox for some reason (the metal type with a semicircular top). The mailbox seems familiar and possibly to a house of someone I know - but not familiar in afterthought. After a time, I notice that I have the power to make snow and ice over everything. The sound as the power unfolds is very similar to the sound of a boot crunching into new deep snow. I soon notice that the entire left side of the street is a wall of snow and ice with the mailbox just slightly protruding to indicate any sign of man-made aspects ever having been there at all. Eventually, the right side also becomes a wall of snow in a sort of blissful, pleasing awareness.

However, I soon notice that I am walking through a long perfectly round tunnel seemingly made entirely of snow but with a small shallow stream moving through the lower arc just up to my ankles. I guess I made the entire region into being covered completely with snow. I feel very happy. As I have said in the past, snow and ice is one of the most ecstatic and stimulating dream features. Over time, I feel so blissed-out and ecstatic, I simply fall down into the welcoming coldness, with sensations of “melting skin” causing “sweet” body-wide sensations.

After a few minutes, I feel myself being dragged face-down through the cool shallow water. There is an (unknown) girl on each side holding onto each of my arms pulling me along. They are both wearing elaborate golden jewelry in several forms, including large earrings and bracelets and even a collar. I feel slightly embarrassed, mainly because I do not quite know what to say or how to address them. Instead, I mostly just make stupid vocal sounds and comments like “Wherem I goin’?” (instead of the more logical “Where are you taking me?”). Being dragged through the ice like this is almost unbearably pleasant. It is almost close to (but not as intense or fifty-percent unpleasant) as the “painful” feelings in dreams where I walk on train-tracks and become overly aware of the bizarre sensations in the bottoms of my feet - or walk barefoot in the streets at night during a heavier cool rain (in dreams only).

Over time, we enter a large room. For a time, I see a shadow of who I perceive to be my wife (who eventually stands), but she has the associations of a late 1940s “jungle girl/queen/goddess” comic book (I even sense a leopard and a torch on each side of her throne). She is sitting on a throne which at first looks like an intricate and high-backed park bench but which has spirals and spiderweb-like patterns going about the area from it. The area is like some sort of domed cave but with a modern feel, somehow, perhaps man-made. The patterns actually change as I am trying to focus, in breathtakingly beautiful ways.

Over time, I notice a large tornado. However, the tornado is made of variously-colored lines and turns into a “Spirograph” tornado and is mostly nonthreatening. It morphs through various swirling three-dimensional Spirograph designs as I watch and begin to “float”.

Night of March 23, 2014. Sunday.



This was a recurring nightly dream from several days from this date; quite vivid, and which gave me a rather unusual sense of “childlike security” and comfort for some reason. It involved the cartoon series “The Flintstones” but it was mostly just an alteration of the opening scenes (the scenes involving Fred’s car only); quite redundant, but with subtle continuous variations - by them being underwater (seemingly at or near the bottom of the ocean) and having a sort of “bubbly” audio. Sometimes the car seems to float upwards a bit, and the “yabadabadoo” sounds rather amusing underwater and bubbles flow out from Fred’s mouth. (The real-life theme song also sounds muffled, but clear enough to understand the words.) Of course, it does not make any sense in any way, but seems almost emotionally fulfilling in some ways, regardless of how ludicrous the implications are. It also seems three-dimensional rather than flat as if I am a present but passive part of the “real” environment.

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This is a form of water induction and water mainly symbolizes sleep in a dream (and sleep dynamics based on the nature of the water). There is the added association that one beginning of “The Flintstones” showed them going to a movie theater and waiting for the movie to begin, which validates the nature of this sustained induction (as watching a movie can be analogous to passively watching one’s dream as I am here).

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Morning of March 22, 2014. Saturday.



My wife and I are in an unfamiliar room (seemingly on the second floor) of bluish pastel-painted plaster walls, which seems like some sort of composite between a post office and a large hospital waiting room but also has the slight feeling of a laundromat. The room’s layout is like two squares attached (at the corners) but open about forty percent inward from the corners. Several vending machines are in the room, but there are not any other outstanding features. A beige picnic table is in one corner on the opposite side of the wall where a row of three vending machines stand near where I am. To my left is the only entrance. At least one other vending machine is near the picnic table. (It actually seems similar to a hospital area from real life when my wife had our last child, but not a waiting room, rather a more empty area near the entrance to a larger patients room.) There is some sort of contest announced on the radio whereby a person can win a very large amount of money along with many other prizes and prestige by finding one of three special keys randomly placed in packs of trading cards. (This actually seems more like a “back story” to my dream than an in-dream event, as there is no radio and I do not remember directly hearing about it.) My wife leaves, apparently to go and get something or to check on the children. I am still not quite sure where we are.

I notice an open pack (the wrapper is still on, but the top part mostly torn across) of trading cards near my feet just as I go to purchase a pack from the vending machine. I pick it up and take the cards out (they are similar to the cards Woolworths is presently giving out for each $20.00 spent but slightly bigger - otherwise the wrapping seems very similar). As I lightly thumb the cards, I am happy to see a beautiful shimmering silver key under the third card. I put the cards and key in my pocket. I am puzzled as to why someone would leave it there, or perhaps they had carelessly dropped it before leaving and have not been back yet. At any rate, I still decide to buy my own pack, although the three special keys are said to have been distributed quite a distance from each other implying across the country (We may be in the USA in this dream; unsure). Amazingly, I find a similar beautiful silver key under the third card in my pack. It is mostly the same except for a different milling pattern.

I go and sit down at the picnic table to wait for my wife to come back. I then look to my right and notice another set of cards on the floor near the nearest vending machine. This one, unlike the first abandoned pack, does not have the wrapper on it. I look through them, and again, there is a beautiful silver key under the third card. This one is slightly smaller than the other two and has an elaborate symbol on the head/bow of the key, almost tattoo-like, the Egyptian symbol of a seated woman with a rainbow-like and balance-scale-like arch over her. I decide to keep that one as well and hold the three keys together focusing on their amazing value or potential value.

An (unknown) man comes in, informally dressed, and seems surprised to see me there. At first, it seems he is a maintenance person or a janitor. There is also the idea, though, that he has something to do with the prizes and acknowledgements of the winners. For some reason, I tell him about the cards and the keys, noting how each key was under the third card in each case. I feel a bit wary in the back of my mind and think I perhaps should not be revealing this. However, even upon seeing the keys, he does not believe what happened at all. He seems very puzzled and almost angry. Even if it “did” happen (and he still does not believe it did) the keys would have to be returned to the unopened packs (which makes no sense) or to the people who had lost them. Even the one I actually got legitimately from purchasing from the machine apparently “did not happen”. His state of mind and ideas remind me a lot of ordinary people from real life in a way that borders on hilarity in how people do not believe much of anything that actually happens and instead, try to go “by the book” so to speak (or by something they read somewhere - as if that means anything in light of their real experiences or perception) to pretend to have some level of understanding or even authority on a subject. He leaves to contact the prize authorities to see where each key “really” is and the status of any winners, if any. I am amused almost to the point of bliss at his idiotic doubting behavior (even upon seeing the special keys) yet also am very glad I still have the three special keys and am thinking about getting my wife and family and leaving before he gets back (assuming he even finds his way back).

I then inexplicably find myself in a completely unfamiliar area near a large fancy building which is almost castle-like (but seems more like a public venue in perhaps Beverly Hills). I use the smaller key to get in, but there are also a number of security gates which the keys may also fit, but I do not feel like opening all those doors. There are halls that go off in different directions. Instead, I transform into a snake and am able to slide through the bars of the security doors, albeit feeling quite strange. I have no perception of arms and legs and my “stomach” feels very odd and stretched out over a longer area. I turn back into myself when reaching a wooden door (of vertical slats) whereby the top is rounded rather than straight across. I am then wearing a loose white robe that has a very long red belt tied around my waist and hanging down from both ends. I open the wooden door into an amazing room and my awareness becomes even more vivid and clear. However, there is the astounding feeling that I am outside of my own consciousness somehow. (I should point out that some generic dream scripting I had been doing included the scene of opening a door “into a revelation”.)

The actor, Alexander Siddig, is standing there on the other side of the room in an elaborate prince-like costume. He looks at me in a very puzzled manner. There are a number of other people in the room who are all looking at me in a puzzled or offended manner. They all seem to be extremely wealthy and most are dressed in almost early 1700s style. There is a stage set up on that side of the room, and a few almost bleacher-like or pew-like seats on the right side. A few people are seated seemingly as an audience on each side. At least five others seem to be a part of the play and engaging in some sort of conversation.

“The barriers and security doors are there for a reason,” he stammers almost embarrassingly. “You can’t just…you can’t just barge in on someone else’s dream…how did you get in here…who gave you permission…this is a private gathering and you need to leave now…so just…go…please…” He then starts talking to the others on matters of my intelligence and inability to understand privacy and such, although someone also comments on my “unfair advantage” and how I have disrupted the circadian rhythms of several dreamers in conference. I “know” that he is “real” but I am not sure about the others. I am thinking on whether they are tulpas, higher entities originally developed from tulpas, real higher entities birthed from the higher planes, scripted forms, composite unique archetypes, or probably (seemingly the most likely) other dreamers. I get the impression this was an artful setup to some sort of elaborate romantic adventure. I leave, not wanting to feel like a thoughtless intruder.

As I turn to leave, something strange happens. A larger, much plainer room somehow seems to materialize between the room I “am in” (but which has shifted elsewhere, inter-dimensionally) and the door so that I am now in a different room even though I am still holding the same doorknob to the same supposed area. (I have dreamt of internally morphing houses before, but this creates a very strange awareness).

An older unknown lady of nearly eighty approaches me and starts talking in a very friendly and helpful manner about dreams. She makes personal comments on Alexander and his habits and desires and such. She seems to have the “job” that is some sort of combination of being a maid and guiding other dreamers when they stumble into other dreamer’s dreams without the proper protocol. As I decide to leave, my long red belt, which seems more and more like a long red silk ribbon, gets tangled on the doorknob and in part of the security gate. I tell her to cut it off on her side, but she seems worried about damaging the supposedly valuable belt. To me, it is way too long as it is and I do not mind. She uses a pair of shiny gold scissors to cut through the wrapped-up material (about four layers wrapped around the doorknob) and also is able to cut and pull (with my help) from where it has also (on the other end of the tied belt) wrapped partly around a bar of the security gate - and eventually my belt is much shorter and I can then keep going. I just want to go onto a different dream, hopefully one without snobby celebrities and snobby elite. There might be a play on “key card” somewhere in there.

Night of March 20, 2014. Thursday.



It is either late at night or a couple hours before dawn. A gentle soothing rain is falling (which seems to be a form of healing or the presence of rejuvenating energies). My family and I as we are now are in the backyard at our present home on W Street. My wife Zsuzsanna has a beautiful radiant presence in the semidarkness. Our children mostly remain on the back stairs.

The water is very high yet not considered as a flood. Zsuzsanna is near the back porch and washing a thin layer of mud from a cow. She is chest high in the water and seems very happy. The cow’s head and part of the back is all that is above the water. My dream is vivid and accurate with regard to the setting, orientation, and physical awareness, other than the fact that the ground level would have to be lower to imply the depth of the water as relative to the porch and steps. My dream has a very cheerful and peaceful mood, with a sense of bliss.

I am becoming partly lucid. My dream remains vivid and positive and seems to last about fifteen minutes. I do not question why we have a cow in our small backyard in an urban area.

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This dream is primarily a form of sustained induction or re-induction and I perceive Zsuzsanna as the inducer here. Water symbolizes sleep (in real time). There is no apparent waking symbolism initiated here (although a cow could be considered as an early morning waking prompt factor as a cow is milked early in the morning).

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This dream seems loosely based (at least partly) on a negative real-life event of Zsuzsanna’s. Zsuzsanna, as a child, had a cow with the same name as a grandmother of mine (mother’s side), but it had drowned. This may also relate to an alteration of Zsuzsanna’s maiden name into “Hathor”. I think this dream may be injecting new associations and positive energies into an older sorrowful memory of Zsuzsanna’s yet somehow for my benefit or just reminding me of the lifelong Hathor connection with my “mystery girl” (and may also relate to Jennie Haniver in a subtle way relating to being in the water).

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Night of March 20, 2014. Thursday.



As I have said in previous entries, I never include scripted dreams unless my script is only a generic affirmation (such as “I am the continuity of maximum well-being” or “I am of the light of Universal Love”, and so on), as it would not be fair to people who do not have that option or access to how it is done or are even aware that it can be done (and people who would never believe such a thing, especially including those who deny lucid dreams exist). However, I have decided to post some aspects of some scripted dreams from time to time, only regarding the fully “open” branches (meaning the details that are not precisely scripted).

I create about six or more different scenarios and foundational elements (as a child I sometimes went on and on making a session that was way too long for normal sleep), sometimes using more precise wording, but there is a point at which more precise wording does not work exactly as it should (though it depends which “direction” the consciousness is flowing). I suspect this is due to certain parts of the higher mind during half-sleep to deep sleep to be separated from certain language centers and the fact that many words in the English language have several (even opposite) meanings. Because of how the mind pulses especially during sleep paralysis when it becomes more noticeable, some words are even naturally omitted in sequence; that, and the fact that if the residual pattern is no longer fully going on its own momentum so to speak, there will be hilarious changes (as with the recent white gorilla dream).

In this case, I have a setup with the potential for purposeful shared dreaming on a regular basis. However, as I have said before, even scripted shared dreaming has “filters” by which each person is set into their own perspective of the scenario - for example, the deliberately shared dream from years ago where a (unscripted aspect) hollow silver ball radiating healing energies doing figure eights above me was actually a toy airplane flying in a figure eight in my wife’s dream - this one being remarkable as there was no mention of sound and no real sound as such at the time - yet we both heard the exact same loud humming frequency in our deeper dream state at the same time. It sometimes happens unintentionally (and as I have learned, another person does not even need to know what the script even is if they sleep next to that person who does). Also consider that two people watching the same movie in real life will “experience” and interpret it in different ways. That does not mean they are not watching the same movie - because they obviously are.

I used one of my favorite foundations regarding the Enchanted Forest (the more “swampy” section) and the tree-house scenario (which is always different since I leave a lot “open”). In this particular case, the beauty was astounding. Two of the more effective words to use are “beautiful” and “happiness”. These words are remarkable in the power to alter the flow of semiconscious thought, though there are many more that are basic but also powerful. Because I had the special audio pulsing to my right and also had the humidifier going (in rotating mode), it created a “perfect” rhythmic flow of sound and moving air (white noise and patterned sensations on the body). As I have said often before, “healthy” is usually the word to use, not “healing”. With “healing”, the mind forms the unresolved idea of perpetual healing, and in the lucid dream state, makes holes and cysts in your body to be filled or healed in the dream or come up with fictional (in-dream only) scenarios by which you are later partially “healed”. Words take on a life of their own, so the correct ones are important. When using “I am healing” - the phrase triggers the circumstance that the healing is never complete and you might even absentmindedly get into situations where you need additional healing.

During the first part of the night, before I burned the CD and set up our system, I was talking to Zsuzsanna about the idea of “forcing” myself to believe I had taken a dream enhancement drug of whatever kind. “Convincing” my mind that I had taken a particular drug and actually taking a particular drug makes no difference (which is why I have never taken any in the first place in my lifetime). She said I might also have some of the inherent side effects claimed by some people (even if I did not know what they were or were supposed to be, due to the nature of how the supraconscious works) and, even though the body can supposedly produce any kind of chemical on its own, there may be unknown potential negatives in this idea. Not only that, it is pointless anyway, as I can dream without drugs. In the long run, I do not think it is a good idea to tamper with perceptions of molecules and compounds at the liminal level.

The marshy forest is beautiful and vivid. The detail of the “tree-house” is amazing. Curiously, though, it looks just like a large old Swiss farmhouse built high in the large branches and with a flower-box midway up on at least one side. I am in this part of my dream for what seems like a very long time, sort of hovering and moving about fairly close to the environment and feeling very blissful, almost ecstatic. I am later on a larger branch or a platform on one of the large branches. During this same time my wife said she had been dreaming of a light coming from under a door.

A younger Caucasian girl comes out, with longer brown hair, and wearing a shimmering orange dress (pure orange, yet also somewhat lamé-like in properties of the material) and a fresh wreath of flowers on her head - she is radiating an almost overwhelming sense of happiness and openness (this always occurs in this type of scene, though) and with a sort of glow about her (the “sped-up” cilia-like energy form I described once in my older online journal from 2008, I think). There is that very precise and vivid feeling of when a person walks up to you and you are aware of the slight change in the scent of the air and a subtle feeling of movement. Anyhow, none of the additional details regarding the setup were scripted. The age, race, style of dress, culture, century of living, etc. - none of those were in the scripting - which was short and very open - just a goddess-like form that could have been any passing-by random entity so long as there were positive intentions and openness only. As I bask in my dream’s full point of lucidity and light, I am aware of a vague second-layer of commentary coming in, almost like a fuzzy radio broadcast. Her name is “Princess Dunn”. Around this time, I hear that it is fully “Princess Dunn Duty”. (It actually seems more like a layered dream at this point - that is, two dreams simultaneously - the overwhelmingly lucid one and a normal one at the same time.) However, I “gasp” myself out of the scene due to not being able to handle the particular state of bliss and move more back into images of trees and forests and my body slowly “recovers” from the “rapidly and continuously melting” effect. Still, it was a good “coloring” of my mind which will last for some time (at least a day or so). I still feel a sense of bliss several hours later.

Of course, a variation could be “Dudie”, “Doodie”, “Dutie”, and so on, as well as “Dunn” being like “Done”…“Done Duty”.

But anyway…wait…

“Princess Dunn Duty?”

I think it is time to start scripting names…

Morning of March 19, 2014. Wednesday.



There are kittens everywhere - and I do mean everywhere. They are en masse. The “ground” just outside our bathroom window at our present address is all kittens, seemingly in at least three layers. They are mostly all calico kittens of similar colors. During this time, I am also aware of small tunnels into the Earth that have larger stones around the openings and which go down into the Earth at about a twelve to fifteen degree angle.

Are all these kittens coming out of the Earth and covering the planet? It seems like it, but the tunnels and kittens are separate. The area of ground on the west end of our yard, to the back of the house, is entirely covered, but they are only on ground and grass for the most part. They cannot seem to move very much or very far from where they are wiggling and rolling. An unusual sight, sort of pretty or at least intriguing in a way, but still strange. They do not seem to be harmed in any way or showing signs of stress or injury.

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I have had similar dreams in the past, including one where I was hovering over the inside of a large chicken farm and seeing infinite white chickens and another dream with endless turkeys. This seems to be some sort of coalescence metaphor or possibly the reverse, that is, conscious energies being divided while in the dream state.

Night of March 17, 2014. Monday.



Having made six more deliberate (precision-wise) “portal” potentials with a third-person phrasing (other than the usual first or sometimes second-person aspects) with my special audio, I reached a state (which is still residual) that is comparable to an intensely blissful “flesh continuously melting off my body” effect - again, a sort of “misty” feeling, that is; my body being made of a light mist and with an enhanced conscious focus. I have always wondered why this was the case - that is, why my special audio is seemingly more powerful (and in-state controllable) than any type of drug - at least with regard to imagery and physical comfort as well as less randomness during the same time period. Certainly the mind can be set in this way with healthy methods such as this (without external chemicals of any kind) - which changes the perception of the body and instigates automatic deeper breathing and an overwhelming urge to continuously stretch every muscle which I eventually learned years ago was very important to maintain health and balance energy. Sleep paralysis is quite blissful as well (though many people write about it in a way that is completely different than how I have normally experienced it and even associate it with nightmares).

I first shift through various environments, mostly forest-like. However, there is one area that is somewhat like a large fountain of some sort, of moss-covered rock, with steps of the same general appearance going up to one edge. I am not fully sure of the purpose. It is almost more like a very small swimming area that goes around to make the doubled outline of a large square. I thought it might be something more relevant to the outside of a building for decorative purposes (similar to a flower-box), but I see no buildings or shelters of any kind or perhaps the building had fallen with the external bordering pool or fountain still left standing. The water itself is very clear and pure and I believe someone may be swimming there but not sure who. The area is going through some sort of growing speed of transition as I feel a sense of bliss in the changes and momentum, even in the very air around me.

Later, a girl (unknown) is seated in a meditation position on the ground in a clearing, cross-legged and radiating some sort of magnetic-like pattern, which seems to have an effect on the direction the wind is blowing and how the plants are growing. She lifts her hands up on my approach and a bright cloud-like form moves about her hands, superimposed on the palms somewhat and “wiggling” a bit in the air, rapidly. This is some sort of healing energy, which intensifies my lucidity for a time. I do not speak to any of the characters or to the environment itself as I sometimes do.

Another female (unknown) is on her stomach on a large branch of an ancient tree (possibly cypress, but not certain - it is not really that swampy or marshy) more than six feet up, it seems. Either her “hair” is long, large black and white feathers that are swept back, or it is some sort of headdress. Silvery eyes watch me. There is a slight but genuine smile, but more like a subtle patronizing regarding the tolerance of my presence. I sense smaller animals scurrying about in the underbrush, perhaps woodland voles. There is a strong scent of damp Earth. I almost get the impression of being seen as a “pet” by the universe or entities around, but that is probably oversimplification.

Morning of February 23, 2014. Sunday.



This was a very long and vivid dream which became “too lucid” at one point. I will mostly summarize the main scenes.

One primary part in the first section unfolding was based on some sort of knowledge about the moon changing position in a rapid, shifted path. I am outside with a relative, I believe my brother-in-law. Eventually, the event begins to unfold, but there does not seem to be a potential of Earth being severely altered or destroyed as was the original concept. The full moon is moving from right to left, horizontally, the path about sixty degrees inclination from our view, and leaving equally bright afterimages of its previous positions, an eventual total of about six closely clustered afterimages of the same general appearance as the moon. This does not continue in theme in any way.

Later, I am in a room watching at least three people (one of them - the clearest - is Colm Meaney, another Hilary Swank, the other Alexander Siddig) hanging various pictures on the wall which are old-fashioned in some ways and modern in others (of an average of about six by eight inches). They are probably about eighty percent Art Deco. They seem a bit too close together on the wall to be an eye-pleasing arrangement as a group - a total of at least seven framed pictures, the frames nearly touching in a couple cases, and two rows in horizontal lines, the right bottom area “empty” if the array is considered as four by two. A couple of times, I create an additional framed picture of my own, hovering in the air before me, and without touching it at all, I quickly float it to the wall (with some sort of “magical” motions of my hands) to hang it near the others, in the lower right corner each time. There is a vague notion that I will alarm the others with my “magic”, but it passes without any major concern or even notable surprise. Minor criticism follows from the others in regard to my input as well as their own setup (such as Colm saying “Well, I think…” and Hilary saying “But I don’t think…” and Alexander saying “Well, I don’t really think…”), going on about the images and their location and orientation to each other (in an artistic sense), and so on, but there is no drama or eventful interaction or communication.

There are a lot of scenes without incident that relate to the “enchanted forest” from the old Harvey comic books. I would say that the dream’s orientation is mostly to the east as is often the case. The “devil” becomes a character, though “he” is only a more creative version of “Grandpa Blaze” from the Hot Stuff comic books and not an overall threat. (He is referred to as “Uncle Blaze” by a couple characters.) However, there is some sort of conflict involving him and mostly human-sized fairies, anthropomorphic animals, and some other minor characters.

I am eventually with some other “magical” characters and seated, facing east. It is like a larger version of the curb at North Monroe, yet with features of the shed (in its complete form) at Cubitis farther back to the west. Soon, some sort of large butterfly, but with wings “full of holes/"with cut-out areas” moves about near us. After a time, it is more like a sheet of paper that has been cut into a complex pattern similar to those I did many years ago - not the paper snowflake ones, but where the fold was different and the result being mostly rectangular with one part being totem-pole-like in silhouette. The pattern is somewhat like that of a doily at times but with more squarish symmetry than center-focused (or by radial symmetry). I catch and hold onto it as others watch. Soon, however, it transforms into a “sheet” of fire. I let it go just as the fire expands with a sort of explosive continuity and it flutters a bit and eventually transforms into Grandpa Blaze (the thinner version). He is soon apparently defeated (or ousted) by forest animals.

Later on, I am in an elevated area somewhat like an isolated larger portico (with Greek features) looking down over valleys and villages, though some buildings are higher up near cliffs and mountain ridge areas. I become extremely lucid and almost overly focused but am eventually concerned about my being “locked” within the dream location even though the area is beautiful, even heavenly. I start focusing on my breathing a bit too much, which actually makes the dream more and more vivid and “solid”. I keep saying, “wow, look at that” regarding the scenery. My voice becomes so loud and clear, I begin to have concern that I am actually shouting in real life and probably being annoying in that case. Instead of, say, jumping from the cliff and flying around or interacting with other characters, I am annoyed for some reason and concerned about my real sleeping body’s physical orientation (a fairly common event). The clarity is a bit too extreme to be just a dream, it seems, and is not a representation of anything I had projected into in any session to my memory (I am amazed by the level of detail in fictional not-seen-before scenery that the mind so commonly produces - the type that shows no sign of otherwise being a composite).

Eventually, I start throwing myself around like an idiot to shake myself out of the dream as I sense it is getting later (late morning on Sunday) and I already had an extremely long erotic adventure earlier in the night in a previous dream. It takes several attempts to “deny” the “reality” of the scenery. I do not normally deliberately do this (especially in a non-threatening dream), but, due to a combination of having the first cold in several years (with a slightly swollen throat which altered my breathing in the dream) and it being later in the morning (along with a false concern of needing to go to the store which closes early - but my wife had already gone), I guess that was partially why.