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    Blue_Opossum

    Weird Parties

    by , 11-27-2014 at 08:46 AM (482 Views)
    Morning of November 27, 2014. Thursday.



    In my vivid non-lucid dream, I had set up an otherwise family-based “maximum well-being” scenario that was altered by annoying nuances once my dream was beginning to stabilize and progress on the momentum of the less-precise scripting. The holographic numeric keypad layer over my left hand (for in-dream “programming” and “channel changing”) brought in all the members of my immediate family, but also brought in my wife’s mother and a few others. Also, the environment was not defined yet and presently seems to be my second-storey childhood Rose Street apartment in La Crosse (which burned down over twenty years ago). The first scene is a birthday party of our youngest daughter.

    Everything seems fine at first. However, I eventually see that my unwelcome mother-in-law is playing with our youngest daughter in an overly rough way and also, I believe she may be lying to all our children about various things to wrongfully influence them. She is somehow lifting her with her feet and putting her up over her head, slightly behind her (which reflects a real-life perspective of about eighteen years ago where she acted crazed and “cornered” by the nurses and security guards and I feared she was going to toss our newborn son out the window of the maternity ward), and it dawns on me that she should not be in the residence or have any contact with our family at all even though she is presently in a cheerful passive stage. I tell her to get out and never come back.

    Soon, she and at least two others are off to contact the authorities about one of her typically fabricated claims. Two unknown females visit later as well; some sort of social workers, it seems, and are also somehow involved in her problematic plans against my family (as she had done in real life to a variety of people and almost all her neighbors). I vaguely think about “resetting” my dream but I am not lucid thus do not consider all the limitless potential of dreams at the time, but during this time I press a number sequence on my keypad that changes the DNA of dream characters so that when she comes back with investigators they will find that she is not even my wife’s mother as she claims, as I had already told this to other authorities by that point. I tap the palm of my left hand with the fingers of my left hand (curved over) to deactivate the keypad (into invisibility) until I decide to use it again.

    Eventually, there are several unknown people coming into our apartment from downstairs. It is as I expect. My wife’s mother and youngest sister have no matching DNA and there are no records she is related or even associated with her. It is a relief to be justifiably victorious in this scenario though I have to “upgrade” one of the females into a higher-ranking police officer to take everyone else away. The first set of clothes do not quite fit, so I have to make a couple minor adjustments as they balloon out slightly before taking a perfect fit to her form. She is patient enough to accept the slightly slower transition before going fully into character. I go into a long speech, asking the others present, including a ship’s captain it seems, about why people like this are not put into mental institutions so as not to create problems for other people - and I also mention how she has caused problems for over two hundred people with false crime reports and continuously lying to government agencies, including while pretending to be different people. (I reflect on how she once eventually and unexpectedly ended up talking to the person she was pretending to be over the telephone, which was quite amusing.)

    I activate my keypad and press the number “8” (middle of third row of four rows - 1 2 3, 4 5 6, 7 8 9, * 0 #) for a “portal” in the form of a bathroom (which symbolizes purification during transitions) with two opposite doors - the entrance doorway of which forms on a hallway wall, to either wake or go into a different dream. The room is slightly cramped, but all of my family members walk through the doorway, to go to the other doorway that opens into a hallway of a different dream. A boy, who may be a younger version of my oldest son, seems to be spitting up any negative energies from the previous dream scenario. Meanwhile, two very heavyset women have an argument and eventual physical fight as the previous section of my dream loses cohesion and they do not regard my presence at all (possibly triggered by two or more people yelling on the street outside our home in real life).

    I end up at a different party with an alternate version of my wife who is not that much like her - probably a glitch in the intended scenario which I cannot remember setting.

    I say hello to Dagwood Bumstead and Blondie, who are sitting on different armchairs and drinking cocktails near the main entrance of the apartment. They look like real people and not comic strip characters for the most part. However, Dagwood looks a bit unusual with his odd hairstyle (as in the comic strip) as well as a bit frail. I converse with them for a time. Dagwood’s boss is also there but I cannot remember his name. I settle on “Mr. Bagely” (bagel-lee) but that is not correct and this is after I think of “Mr. Beasley” - who is actually the mailman. (The boss’s last name is actually “Dithers”.) I ask his boss what sort of advertising they mostly do and he says “furniture”, which is not reflective of the real-life comic (it is actually a construction company).

    My alternate wife is conversing with an unknown female (or another version of my wife) who is standing undressed near her armchair and I recognize that two unrelated lines from the scripting likely got cross-linked and glitched-out and I become annoyed. I decide to leave because the music (though not that loud) is annoying as well. I go out and discover that the area looks a bit like Gillette Street but also with Rose Street elements (in reality that area of Rose Street is completely different now, not remotely resembling how it looked in the 1960s). A heavyset man follows me down the street as I walk east (on the south side of the street) and I turn, materializing a gun in my right hand to shoot him, but instead, a huge powerful stream of water comes out and knocks him down from over fifteen feet away. Another man on the opposite side of the street starts pointing and laughing as if in relief he is not in much danger. As I continue, I am ready to take to the air, but I notice Smokey the Bear, carrying a shovel, emerging from a poster on an alleyway wall and he will possibly be problematic as he heads toward me. Apparently, he may be able to fly as well, so I press the hash key (meaning “turn my dream off”) and am out of there. (I have no idea why Smokey the Bear appeared, though I often have pyrokinetic abilities in dreams, but did not use any in this one - the shovel possibly related to mortality or concern of being buried. However, there is also a brief reflection on a rather crude comedic poster I had as a teenager that displayed “forest fires prevent bears” as a spoof on the Smokey Bear public service announcements.)

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    Updated 08-13-2015 at 08:22 PM by 1390

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    non-lucid

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