6.4.2023 Backrooms (1 point) I don’t know where the first part belongs, but I feel as though it might go along with this dream. I’ll put it here and count this as one dream: ...Possibly being chased. I might be with someone else, and we get into an elevator. I need to go to the 6th floor, but push a few other buttons by mistake first... ...Walking through the University. I open a door that leads to a hallway. It doesn’t look familiar, and actually it looks to me like something from the Backrooms. The hallway is long, painted yellow, and doesn’t have any doors or openings on either side until the opposite end. As I walk down, I can see that it opens into a larger space, sort of like the upper floor of a mall. It kind of looks like there are stairs or an escalator leading down, and those backless "bench" things that they put in places like that. I start thinking about Entities, and decide to go back. Heading back to the door, I imagine something coming after me, and when I get to the other side and shut the door I imagine taking out a gun and pointing it at the door. I either imagine something coming through at this point, or something actually does, and I shoot it/them (or imagine that I do)... Carp Fishing (1 point) People are fishing along the bank of some body of water. There is a big splashing, and someone starts reeling in a large fish. “It’s probably a carp”, someone says, and sure enough it is. It’s about 3 or 4 feet long, at least. The other two people fishing (one of them is me now) also have large carps on their lines. I see one of the other two guys get the hook out of his fish’s mouth. Looking at mine, it appears that the hook has caught on a gill or something. Looking closer, it appears that the hook is actually deep in the fish’s stomach, with some line in there too. My Dad is there, and we don’t think we can get the hook out. We might just have to cut the line. I think we should kill the fish, since it would be cruel to make it live with a hook in its stomach. Too Many Fingers (1 point) In a parking lot in an area about 2 hours from where I am currently. I’m walking to my truck, trying to think of where I am, exactly. I don’t really know for sure, but I speculate that it is the town of Martins Ferry. I look across the street, and there are a couple large-ish buildings. One of them is a pharmacy. For some reason, when I get to my vehicle I decide to do a reality check and count the fingers on my left hand. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. That doesn’t seem right. I try again, and this time I actually seem to have extra fingers. Awareness that this is a dream dawns on me as I either wake up or lose the dream (not sure I would count this as a lucid dream for the sake of the competition). Fragments: (1) I go down to a room in a basement, above a lower level of the basement. It is kind of dark both places, but it seems to me that I should start cleaning up the one room by at least moving an empty bookcase downstairs. (0.5 points) (2) In a class. The instructor, Dr. A- is walking around the classroom holding a cookie in front of students’ faces to show them something. As he holds it in front of me, I take a bite, thinking it would be funny. He doesn’t seem to notice until he gets back to the front of the class. (0.5 points) (3) Some people are loading large bags of gold coins, either into or out of the back of a vehicle. They seem to be loaded or unloaded by a crane. I jokingly suggest that I should take one of the coins, since there are so many and nobody would notice. There might be some driving that happens after this...(0.5 points)
19th May 2021 Fragment (remembered this while in the car and thinking about money): I'm somewhere, meeting back up with dad. I'm giving him several old pound coins. I deliberately picked old ones instead of newer ones to give him and I remember ruffling through something (a cloth bag?) to get them. 20th May 2021 Fragment: I'm in a version of my old town. It's dark, night time, but no street lights or anything? I meet up with D (childhood friend), an accidental meeting. I follow him into a building, climbing some stairs that lead up to the ground floor where the entrance is. The building is the one opposite of the cafe on the main street. (transition) We're then inside his apartment, but like the building, it's not the same as it would be in waking life. There's a lot of stuff everywhere and I make some remark on how it's comforting to know that other people can also have this issue. It's mostly clothes, clean but unarranged and piled up. I forget what we talk about, but we discuss something. It's dark here too, but more like dawn than night. There's a cold ambient light. Then, I think I need a wee and I go somewhere in the flat. I go into this sort of secret compartment behind something and I forget all about needing a wee as I climb down a wall ladder comprised of metal loops in the wall. Then this part has a connection to the lift shaft. It's dark and goes a long way down in there. I look away? The rest of the room is some kind of cubical underhang thing on the building. There's a barred window in here at some two or three feet away. It looks much brighter on the outside, like it's daytime there. I look again into the lift shaft and the aperture is smaller than before now. I'd have to crawl first to fit through now and drop down. A mouse, two mice come out. They look clean but I don't trust them. One gets close and for whatever reason I still reach toward it with my hand. It gets on top of my hand and bites me. It doesn't hurt a lot but I feel worried about getting an infection. I'm angry at the mouse but quickly forget about it. I go elsewhere, not sure where, and there I eventually wash my hands in a bathroom. (there was a lot more to this dream but I couldn't recall much) Notes: - Before I fell asleep on night preceding the 19th fragment, I was again thinking of a general thing of Occipitalred's thoughts on dream awareness. - It's ironic that only just recently I told Occipitalred I couldn't remember any dreams about money but then just a day or so before I had indeed dreamed about the subject of money in some form. - I like to collect old and non-circulating coins, even if they are actually fairly recent. It seems odd that I would give dad the older ones rather than the newer ones, especially since in the dream there was some subtext of money being required to pay something banal. - The dream with the mouse is one of a few recent-ish ones where a rodent has appeared.
Morning of October 17, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,930-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 51. My dream unfolds with the same autosymbolic processes and related components in the same order towards waking as they have on a day-to-day basis for over fifty years, though as is usually the case, in an intriguingly different manner. Act One: The non-lucid creation of my vestibular system simulacrum to correlate the illusory physicality of the dream state at the precursory level. An old woman, modeled after Sally Fergus (of the television series “Dirty Sally”) travels through the Old West. The setting is a variation of the “Gunsmoke” (television series) set. She has a natural ability to mimic the sound of a chicken perfectly. She casually walks through town, calling all the chickens to aid her in robbing a bank. She is cheerful and confident. Act Two: My vestibular system simulacrum is closer to viable RAS mediation and the association with chickens not being capable of sustained flight is transmuted into a paper airplane event. The old woman wants to call upon other bandits to help her in future escapades. She folds dollar bills into paper airplanes, writes messages on them with details for potential meetings, and throws them into taverns where possible candidates might be sitting. She also taunts the sheriff by flinging paper airplanes (again, made of folded dollar bills) to his desk at times. Sarcastic messages about his ineptitude are on them. (In this case, the precursory RAS simulacrum - the sheriff - is divided from the vestibular system simulacrum, which is not always the rule. It seems dependent on both ultradian rhythm and my level of dream self awareness, though ultimately it is about unification and reestablishing consciousness.) Act Three: The emerging consciousness cue occurs by way of the gathering coins factor. (This was sometimes used deliberately at a liminal or lucid level from early childhood, but water reinduction is far more common for me as well as for Zsuzsanna.) Additionally, there is the final subliminal association and revelation of the real physical body being “hidden” within a bed sheet from the non-lucid dream self. That has been the exit point process of many dreams since childhood. The old woman is gathering her men near a wagon to help her move a big rolled-up carpet. The cowboys and bandits decide to unroll it. As they do, more and more coins are visible. They marvel at the hundreds of beautiful coins. I slowly wake. Since early childhood, I have remained perplexed over telepathic threads that weave themselves into the dreaming processes. In this case, there are two sources. One, Zsuzsanna had read a story (from a library book I had not seen) to our children about messages sent via paper airplanes. Two, Zsuzsanna had been in a conversation with her sister about an older woman making money with her chickens, though by selling the eggs. I had no precursory idea or cue from either event. These literal transpersonal crossovers into what is otherwise inducing, dreaming, and waking autosymbolism remains an enigma. We experience it all the time. Many others do not.
Morning of October 14, 2018. Sunday. Dream #: 18,927-02. Reading time: 3 min 54 sec. Readability score: 69. Note that Linda is not Linda in this dream. (See notes after main entry.) In my dream, I am going to an amusement arcade in southside La Crosse with my niece, Linda. I am at the Loomis Street house. It is late at night, about fifteen minutes before midnight. It seems we will spend about an hour there and get the bus back to the Loomis Street house at about fifteen past one in the morning. It seems we had walked north through the Loomis Street alley, as we are then walking east on Gillette Street to go to the Loomis and Gillette bus stop. I am puzzled as to why we are going somewhere so late at night for only about an hour or less of video game play. I check my right pants pocket to feel several American quarters (at least eight) and a few other coins, and I consider I may have enough for the bus trips and a few video games. (There is augmented tangibility at this point.) As we arrive at the intersection, almost to the bus stop, my dream resets. Linda and I are now crossing from the east side of the street opposite the Loomis Street house. It is also early afternoon now. An unfamiliar man is walking (on the west side of Loomis Street) with another man who is also unknown. They are both in their thirties. He is holding a gun to the other man’s head as they walk. The man holding the gun is on the other man’s right. The situation makes me wary, but we keep walking in front of them after we cross to their side (rather than avoiding them), heading to the same bus stop as in the previous scene. I briefly consider that we may be in danger, but that does not seem to be the case, as the man with the gun does not seem interested in us even as potential witnesses who could identify him later. As we get to the intersection, my dream resets for the second time (again, without triggering dream state recognition). Linda and I are now about three blocks north of Loomis and Gillette in a (fictitious) commercial district and walking south on the west side of Loomis Street. It is afternoon. I am thinking about whether it would be worth it to be at the amusement arcade for only a short time. I am still erroneously considering the midnight to one o'clock span even though it is daylight. I am now wearing a hooded sweater with big pockets. I decide that I should have a gun, as the man in the previous scene had a gun and I do not want to take any chances. I create a revolver in the right pocket of my hooded sweater (without lucidity). A policeman is in the area, though remains behind us. As I walk, the revolver, as I am holding it within the pocket, somehow comes out of the pocket and is at my side for a short time. As I continue, my arms swing with my gait in an exaggerated manner. I briefly ponder upon whether people will think I had forgotten how to walk correctly or deliberately trying to draw attention. I put my hand back into the pocket. I consider that if the policeman stops me, I will say that it is a 9mm blank firing Jaguar 80. He does not stop me. As Linda and I walk to Loomis and Gillette from the north to get to the bus stop, my dream resets for the third time. Now we are walking west on the north side of Gillette Street, a few blocks west of the bus stop. (We had reached it before the reset.) She is ahead of me by a few feet and on the right. It is late morning. She is wearing baggy clothes; blue jeans and a pale blue blouse, and this puzzles me as I try to discern her form. She seems about ten years old. My conscious self identity is still not extant, but my dream self’s fictitious mind is losing cohesion, and my dream becomes more abstract in the waking process. [key descriptors] subliminal ultradian rhythm thread (distorted) intersection as RAS mediation (three dream resets) preconscious avatar with a gun preconsciousness as police activity (reticular formation personification) coins as emergent consciousness cue (does not work here) the man with the gun to the other man’s head is counter-processing, that is, potential RAS modulation over my precursory emerging consciousness as the opposite of my dream self paired with a potential reinducer [key ERRORS] Erroneous discernment of induction simulacrum (Naiad) as my niece Linda when there is not the vaguest resemblance or waking life association. However, this is a result of my current conscious self identity being absent. Ultimately, the simulacrum has nothing to do with Linda (whom I have not seen in real life since 1994) and is a younger manifestation of Zsuzsanna. Linda never lived at or stayed at the Loomis Street house. I currently have no interest in playing video games, though when I was much younger, I did go to an amusement arcade in southside La Crosse to play pinball. Loomis Street 1500 area erroneously continues north as an unfamiliar commercial district. My dream resets three times (including late night becoming early afternoon) without dream state recognition, not because of failing to “become lucid” by popular definition, but because of the absence of my true conscious self identity. (Note the non-lucid dream control of my creation of the gun.) My conscious self’s identity, as my dream self is trying to discern the simulacrum in the last scene, remains absent. However, the fact that it is ahead of me and to my right designates its transition from potential reinducer into the emerging consciousness avatar at this point.
I'm walking through some small stores. I kneel down to a box with old coins and start picking them up to take a closer look. My vision is a bit foggy, but i can tell these are not really coins, no matter how much I want them to be. just some medallions or commemorative tokens. An older lady starts going through it as well and crowds me out. I tell her piece of my mind. I start feeling tension in the air as I'm walking towards the corner of a near building. People running. I know the occupation is starting. I think it's nazis, but the armored vehicle I see doesn't look german from WW2. I see the uniforms as I'm ducking in a doorway to get away through some back doors I'm hoping to find. I see some civilian man walking inside. One is quite large. I know those are local collaborators, but to my surprise, they are quite gentle, as the big man pushes a woman towards the door with what I think it's croatian hajde.
Morning of December 2, 2017. Saturday. It seems to be afternoon. I am in an unfamiliar restaurant with my mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) and Marilyn (older half-sister on my mother’s side, April 25, 1942-February 13, 2014). They are facing each other from each side of the booth and closest to the window. I am on Marilyn’s right. I have no memory of their deceased status and no viable link to my current conscious self identity. My dream self seems to be about twenty-five years old (though I am fifty-six in reality). I could assume the location as La Crosse (America), though there is no direct focus or thought about where we are. There is no backstory. (The restaurant scenario indicates mild hunger during sleep.) My mother wants me to buy a Dutch sandwich for her from the restaurant directly across the street (perceived as west of where we are, which subliminally aligns to the street as west of where I am in bed in reality). Although I already have some money, she gives me about a dollar and fifty cents in small change, which is apparently what one costs. (My mother never said “Dutch sandwich” in real life as far as I know, and I never bought a sandwich for her in real life. Apparently, a Dutch Sandwich is the term for a tax avoidance strategy that some multinational corporations use to lower their corporate tax liability. I have no familiarity with this term.) I leave the restaurant, but instead of crossing the street, I continue north in an odd state of faux lucidity (with thoughts of finding my wife Zsuzsanna, without remembering who she is, for a lovemaking session). (Faux lucidity is when I might do something I would do in a lucid dream but without being aware that it is a dream. It is different from liminal dream control, apex lucidity, and normal lucidity.) My dream self falls back into the current scenario of my dream and I decide to buy the sandwich. I cross over to the west side of the street with the intent to walk a block and come back around easterly after walking south for about a block. As I walk along the west side of the street rather than the sidewalk, an unknown Hispanic male walks near the middle of the street to my left. He is carrying an unrealistically long telescope in a case, similar to a tightrope walker using a pole for balance. It seems nearly three-fourths as wide as the street. (There are a few other unfamiliar people walking along to my left.) He accidentally tips it up on the right and bumps the back of my head without realizing it. I do not alert him to this and he walks on ahead. I enter the other restaurant. I see a large alcove near the entrance (to my right as I walk in). An unknown female is there. She is sitting near a low-set counter (north). It has about nine sandwiches for sale, sparsely arranged. I stand on her left. (Zsuzsanna is sleeping in this orientation in reality, that is, to my right.) I ask if there is a Dutch sandwich here (directed at the cashier behind me on the other side of the room, not this customer). This customer tells me that she has bought and is eating the last one. On the opposite side of the room are two more unknown females who work there and of whom are behind a high-set counter near the cash register. I absentmindedly walk out of the restaurant with the bottom half of one of the other sandwiches without paying for it. Mayonnaise is on it as well as minimal lettuce. I soon realize what I am doing, walk back in, and give it back to the female closest to the cash register. The purchase area is similar to the Coney Island Restaurant in La Crosse I had frequented years ago (and of the same directional orientation), but my dream self does not note this. She tells me that she will make two Dutch sandwiches that I can buy and starts to make them in an area near shelves (about four tiers) opposite the service counter. The other female (more to my right as I face south) asks me about “feather sticks” and if people generally consider them as “lighter”. I assume she is talking about feather dusters, so I nod in agreement. However, she talks about cooking on a gas stove, which puzzles me. She had apparently said “feather steaks” and was asking whether they are “lighter” when fried using a gas stove rather than (presumably) an electric stove. (“Feather steak” could be considered as a flight symbol, which means that the preconscious is inducing dream state waking symbolism, especially as this is a checkout scenario which symbolizes emergent consciousness activation and my dream’s implied precursory exit point, though my dream self remains unaware of this, likely involving RAS, as it is also similar to “feathered serpent” and with “steak” rhyming with “snake”. A snake is the main biological waking prompt via RAS depending on the dream type and depth of sleep. The reference to “lighter” additionally relates to waking symbolism, hovering, and RAS-related inner ear dynamics that typically biologically manifest the falling sensation upon waking.) The other female has my sandwiches ready. They are not in any sort of bag and are atop each other (two-tiered construct, symbolizing conscious self identity over fictional dream self identity, which I am vaguely aware of but without a viable trigger). I get out my money to pay for them and see that I am holding several coins (in my left hand) that look more like small disks of sliced salami. I go to give her what I assume to be a dollar coin to start with, but it is apparently only twenty-five cents (as it is about the size of an American quarter). I tell her that I am uncertain of the value of the “coins” because it is not clearly noted on them. (At this point, I have a vague recall of Australian one and two-dollar coins while still puzzling over the variously-sized miniature salami slices as “coins”, though this is not enough to trigger any thread of emergent consciousness despite coins and cash registers at a checkout being a known and very familiar dream state indicator and precursory end marker since childhood.) I decide to get out my wallet and pay with an American five-dollar note. The change I get seems like normal coins, which I put in my right pocket with the “salami coins”. (Getting out my wallet at the checkout is analogous to trying to link to my conscious self identity via my fictional dream self near my dream’s exit point, as an ID is kept in a wallet in real life.) As I turn to my left to leave (atypical waking orientation, though Zsuzsanna now sleeps on my right for the first time in years), I notice I am not wearing shoes. I am not sure how or when this happened. I soon find and put on my left shoe, which is near the counter under the attached stools. I accidentally put a girl’s shoe, black with a buckle, on my right foot. (This is a childhood dream association when Brenda was a prescient stand-in for Zsuzsanna.) I realize this, yet accidentally put on a different pair of wrong men’s shoes after taking off my correct left one. (The different sizes of the shoes infer that my feet are actually changing somewhat in size, but my dream self does not notice this. This is similar to teeth falling out, which has no meaning but validates the dream self’s body as being fictional and in a state of cessation and with the inability to speak coherently while unconscious.) Finally, I am satisfied at wearing the right shoes and walk out the door and wake. Thus, the final marker here classifies the ending as doorway waking symbolism, which is common, where a doorway symbolizes the exit point of the dream state. Not wearing shoes is a typical dream state indicator as I do not wear shoes in bed. There are apparent shared dream state energies (or at least subliminal acknowledgment of the dream state), as the girl’s right shoe likely relates to my wife Zsuzsanna being asleep at the time to my right. The man with the long telescope is a second-level dream state indicator. It relates to seeing outside the dream state (and is a subliminal form of the emergent consciousness as a precursor to either waking or becoming lucid), but in this case, there is no trigger despite the exaggerated length and even bumping the back of my head. (For example, in an experimental lucid dream from the 1980s, RAS activated by each of my eyes quickly extending out diagonally upwards, each becoming a telescope, symbolizing my connection to discernible consciousness outside of my fictional dream body). The vague association with a tightroper’s balancing pole is symbolic of RAS and mediating between dream state awareness and whole consciousness as related to inner ear dynamics and “not falling” (not waking with the biological falling sensation or hypnopompic kick caused by the shift from unconsciousness to consciousness, the reverse of becoming dizzy and passing out when awake).
Updated 06-05-2018 at 05:07 AM by 1390
Dream recall has still been poor lately due to inconsistent sleep patterns. I'll get it down though. First dream: A pale, strawberry blonde girl is flying, enveloped in a golden aura of light. Then the aura disappears, and she falls to her knees on the ground. Someone says "She is an angel, but all her light is gone." That was rather depressing. Second dream: I recall someone giving me a large pile of change, and I was excited because I wouldn't have to deal with trying to find quarters for the laundry machine for a while (because I hardly ever pay for anything in cash, so I don't have a lot of quarters IRL). Then I woke up and realized that I still don't have any quarters.
Morning of September 20, 2017. Wednesday. This dream is vivid from start to finish even though I deliberately change my identity twice (by way of non-lucid dream control). Instead of my most common form of dream state initiation (water, which symbolizes the real-time dynamics of sleep), it begins with another very common dream state indicator, that is, “still” being in bed. (The difference of course relates to sleeping in the waters of the womb in the first months of life in contrast to sleeping in bed, though the dream state initiation form may be incidental.) My dream self’s memory is mostly limited to not much beyond the age of twenty. The bed turns out to be in a new version of the Loomis Street house. It is in the living room. There is much more space on the north side of the room than there was in reality and there is also a vague association with our Gellibrand Street apartment of years ago (though I do not reflect upon this while in my dream). The bed is in the northeast corner of the room, aligned to the north wall. I am on the left side (which is atypical as I have mostly been on the right side in recent years when sleeping with Zsuzsanna, though this is probably related to subliminal reinduction). My brother-in-law Bob had been sleeping on the right side. My sister Marilyn is alive and as she was in the late 1970s (with no memory of her having died in 2014). She has not yet decided to go to sleep. I am seemingly aware my mother had recently died (though she died in 2002). Anita comes in through the front door and asks Marilyn if she had been in the bed sleeping, mentioning “all five people” in the bed (even though I had only been aware of Bob being in the bed). I turn more to my left, very close to the edge of the bed. It seems that Anita had picked up and kept an American quarter that had fallen out of my shirt pocket. More coins fall onto the floor from my left shirt pocket, including at least three American quarters and a few nickels and dimes, but these I retrieve and put in my right pants pocket (as I am apparently wearing blue jeans in bed). I then get up and start practicing telekinesis by willing objects to fly into my right hand, mostly cups, empty soda cans, and dishes. “Did you see that?” I keep asking Anita and Marilyn. There is no surprise from them. I go outside and it seems to be late morning (even though it had been nighttime seconds before). I fly about six feet above the ground but mostly hover and loudly screech. The unfamiliar neighbor to the south has a few children playing in his yard. I decide to go over, via the alley, and apologize for my behavior, as it may have frightened them. I explain to the man that I am “Carrie’s brother”. For a short time, I puzzle over the timeline possibly being wrong, as Carrie and I are supposedly around the same age and I perceive it may be the late 1980s. I then show him my telekinetic ability. I will small items to fly into my hand from a distance as well as an empty cardboard box that had been put out for the garbage collectors. The other male seems curious but not afraid. “I can lift a house,” I explain, “or a car”. (I have the usual false memory that a house can be lifted into the air and set back down with telekinesis without destroying the foundation, plumbing, or electrical connections.) There are many scenes after this where I go into a building and show my telekinetic abilities to several other unfamiliar people, mostly males of about twenty. I continuously will, over and over, mainly cups (though other items as well) to fly into my right hand. I perform such acts at least thirty times as others watch with mild interest. It seems effortless and triggered by softly imagining the feeling of already having it in my hand. I also eventually cause cups to slide across the table away from me (not nearly as common a dream event as willing them to me). The others find it amusing when I do this. For some reason, this seems more important and impressive than drawing objects to me. I then decide to be Carrie herself. I am beginning what seems like eighth grade in an unknown school. While sitting at a long table with a few others in a row, I will pencils to fly into my hand from the table in front of us. One unfamiliar boy directly to my left looks at me and the pencils flying from the other table into my hand, but does not react - as if he cannot see or understand the world around him. He looks somewhat arrogant but completely clueless. I reason that, unlike the previous witnesses, many young people have no perception or understanding of the world around them, so unusual or unexplainable events are not perceived as such at all. From here, I notice that the top layer of skin has come off around the base of my thumb and partly across the palm. There are clumps of dead skin here and there that I peel off. The flesh underneath is pure white and very soft and smooth. Curiously, I do not notice that my hand is reversed in orientation, that is, when my palm is up, my left thumb is on the right (instead of my left thumb being outward to the left with my palm up as it should be). It is very vivid, with an augmented sense of touch (though no pain) and I never take more notice to this impossible hand orientation despite the clarity. In the last scene, I fly around above Sill Street, mostly to the west. (This is a very illogical location and focus for my dreams, as it was of little significance in real life and not seen at all since 1994, and yet has peculiarly become more common over the last few years.) This seems more of the closing credits to a movie. Curiously, instead of music associated with “Carrie” (1976), I hear an altered version of the lyrics and music from “Sybil” (1976 television miniseries). However, these are the same incorrect lyrics I sang in the 1970s, even playing the music on my accordion and electronic organs. I perceive Carrie (Sissy Spacek) as singing them. Instead of “Mirror mirror in my mind”, I always sang “Mirror mirror in my heart” (so much so, the real lyrics now sound “wrong” to me). Instead of “Come as a dream, ribbons of rhymes”, I sang it as “Fashions and swirls, ribbons and curls”. Interestingly, Anita’s reference to supposedly five people having been in the bed may have deliberately foreshadowed me playing the two other roles before waking. Coins often relate to coalescence and the level of subliminally perceived neural activity in the dream state. Since early childhood, I have always been aware of very distinct differences between dream self modes, including passively non-lucid, non-lucid but willful, non-lucidly in control (being aware of making and controlling “my world” though with no direct recall of what a dream is), passive lucidity, willful lucidity, apex lucidity (total and sustained willful conscious creation and automatic linear control of the dream including deliberately symbolic waking transitions based on fifty years of day to day experience where certain long-term forms of conscious thought automatically integrate into unconscious states), and other distinct levels of unconsciousness, including entirely abstract where my existence seems to be as a letter of the alphabet or geometrical form, sometimes with unusual and unique mental rituals, or the repeating of a phrase to “perfectly” assume a physical position prior to waking.
Updated 06-09-2018 at 06:11 AM by 1390
Morning of September 19, 2017. Tuesday. In the first part of my dream, in the first non-lucid segment, I am in a typical scenario where I am in a bookstore (or what is firstly perceived as one) and looking at various comic books and graphic novels. This goes on for a long time as I gather a stack together to keep. The books are unfamiliar, thus new to me, though some are implied to be older (as far back as the 1970s). At this stage, the personified preconscious is present as a younger unfamiliar male. Curiously, he is painting, as if there was also an art studio here. It is not much bigger than A4 size and lying on the table that I am sitting at eventually. It seems to be a landscape with flowers in the foreground. I tell him how I had painted, with a paint-by-number kit when I was a boy, two skulls. I explain how they were two singular portraits of skeletal pirates, shown from about the chest up. (This is based on a real-life event and thus atypically, is a real memory.) He said he had never heard of them. “Oh, they were quite popular,” I reply. I then go on to describe how my older brother Earl had started a very large paint-by-number of the Mona Lisa, but had never finished. (This was also a real event, from the early 1970s.) Eventually, I decide to walk out of what now seems like a second-hand store. I have a stack of graphic novels and comic books at least a foot high. However, it seems confused with the free bookstore, where (in real life) there is no one present other than the patrons and one is trusted to trade books of equal value on their own. A cashier, an older unfamiliar female, stops me by asking what I am doing. She is at a counter to my right. Apparently, I have to pay for the books, possibly a lot of money, which I do not have on me, which I tell her. I also protest in that I tell her I had left food on a previous visit. It does not seem to matter to her. I still apparently have to pay for these books now. I take out my wallet and the contents of my right pants pocket and see that I have only coins, which I place on the counter, which has now suddenly shifted to the opposite side of the room and farther back from the entrance of the store - a subliminally willed (non-lucid dream control) attempt at reinduction, that is, I had consciously but subliminally willed the counter back from my dream’s implied exit point as well as shifting it from the right to the left, as right is more typical of waking symbolism orientation. (The checkout of a store symbolizes a specific level of emergent consciousness as a common liminal space end marker in my dreams, fully understood as such since I was very young. This does not mean every dream ends shortly after a checkout is rendered, but it does indicate a precursor to an expected shift in consciousness, not necessarily full wakefulness, though that is often the case). The preconscious factors had transmuted from the artist (which symbolizes potential lucidity, though my non-lucid dream self does not realize this) to the elderly female cashier, though an unfamiliar male with a beard joins her on her right (the same orientation Zsuzsanna and I are presently sleeping in). The other male looks at my coins. Three of them are unusual in that they are mostly featureless other than having an embossed circle on them. “These are tally-hoes,” he says. This seems to mean that they may not be coins for buying something but possibly for use with public transport, or perhaps of little value. (Of course, “Tally-ho”, here an absentminded association with tallying up the total price as in “tally whole cost”, is here also a codeword for the waking transition analogous as the dream self hunting for the fox, which represents the precursor to coalescence back into conscious self identity and critical thinking skills or cleverness which the dream self does not typically possess.) From here, my mode of non-lucid dream control increments. I decide to leave the store with the books anyway, by teleporting and phasing through the entrance door without opening it (another form of subliminal reinduction, that is, even though I do not know I am dreaming, I deliberately manipulate it, a very common state of in-dream awareness for me). Still, they are heavy to carry, but I do not mind that much. It seems to be late at night. I notice that the moon is of an unusual appearance as a number of unusual clouds encircle it. The moon imagery is within the blue sky even though the rest of the sky is dark. Understanding that this image of the nighttime sky is absurd, I now become fully lucid and I decide to actively change and sustain my dream. The first act I perform is to joyfully throw my books onto the ground, as there is no sense in carrying them (or to be weighed down by them) in the dream state. I feel physically lighter and very happy to realize I am dreaming due to lifelong understanding of taking full conscious self advantage of this state. I enter apex lucidity and decide to create a park and have a sustained and augmented sexual encounter with Zsuzsanna. After this, I will it again. Parts of my body are “buzzing” with pleasure and our climaxes are extended (probably due to the Tetris effect from so many real-life events). However, I eventually shift into a different form of lucidity, where my dream is so realistic, that my dream self starts to question if my real physical body is somehow walking around (which of course is a ridiculous thought, but this has happened in past lucid dreams of a higher and sustained form), so I decide to initiate waking to find that I (that is, my sleeping physical body) had not moved at all. Still, there is something about the bliss, freedom, and even perceived safety of apex lucidity that is hard to describe.
Updated 06-09-2018 at 06:31 AM by 1390
Morning of September 11, 2017. Monday. I am walking with two unknown males, a situation of which continued from a very long previous dream sequence. I think about robbing a place, but the details are not clear yet. I eventually realize that I am carrying a Glock pistol. Soon, I “realize” that I am a black female of perhaps about twenty-five years old. It seems late at night. I go into a small trailer park in an open field where a dense forest is to my left. An unknown black female, but of whom is apparently known to the character I presently am, complains about me being there to rob her again (though I do not recall any backstory for this). Other than that, she does not seem alarmed by my gun. She opens a couple drawers in a large chest of drawers in her trailer. There is a bundle of one-hundred-dollar bills in an even stack, partly wrapped in cellophane. There is also a roll of fifty-dollar bills held together with a rubber band. There are also numerous rolls of coins. I tell her to keep some of the money, including the roll of fifties, but she insists that I take all of it. I put everything in two bags. There are several other items besides the American money, including bottles of perfume and shampoo and small items of clothing. I leave the trailer park, walking briskly east. I see a couple others outside of their trailers on my right, one an older black male of about sixty. Somehow, it is suddenly daylight now, possibly early afternoon. I am with two unknown Caucasian males (though one reminds me vaguely of Don K from the early 1980s). I am seemingly now a male character, though not fully myself and perhaps about twenty years old. We seem to be going west on Sill Street, having gone past Wood Street and possibly Kane Street. I decide to toss my gun on the ground near the intersection near the trunk of a tree so I am not armed if caught (thinking I would be in less trouble). Still, I consider that may not be a good idea as a child might find it. The others and I continue, but eventually turn right to go north. I continue to carry my two bags. We seem happy until one of the males looks back and sees another male who apparently knows us. It may be that he will cause trouble or at least be annoying if he sees us and catches up with us. The male who recognizes this other male tells us all to go our separate ways. “I have to try to wake him up,” he says in an authoritative tone. He goes across the front lawns of a few houses on the right side of the street and I am still following him, unsure of the situation. He yells with frustration and waves me off, indicating to me not to follow him. The male who had been behind us is apparently sleepwalking. He has long black hair and a long black beard and has on blue jeans but no shoes, socks, or shirt. He starts cheerfully talking to the male that seems to know who he is. “I can’t understand anything you’re saying,” the sleepwalking male is told, “You’re speaking gibberish”. I continue to go north a short distance, but then turn around to go through a very narrow residential alley back southward. I am slightly concerned that I might annoy people by going through or close to their backyards but I do not see anyone. At the end of the alley are two closed chain-link gates about chest-high, side by side. Each of the two gates is for a different house, which makes no sense, as the alley goes past all houses on the block and the gates are adjacent to the public sidewalk. Before I get to them, I have to climb quickly up over a couple large full garbage bags and some other objects. At first, I think the gates might be locked, but I am able to open them by turning a horizontal L-shaped bolt lock. The detail is very vivid and realistic in appearance (but unlike any setting I had ever seen in real life). The sense of physical momentum and touch is vivid as well. A few police officers approach me and look in my bags and ask me where I am going. I see that there are a lot of rolls of coins in them. I insist that everything is mine, but they seem condescending. While pretending that I am totally innocent, I am eventually able to get away. One policewoman seems to think I am okay and seems to see me as being victimized by the other officers. However, a chubby male officer seems determined that I will be caught again and found to have robbed someone, or possibly a bank. I somehow end up going through the second floor of a business building. There are a few times when I fly after getting outside again, but I end up walking again, as my two bags are heavy. I somehow end up back near Sill and Kane and recall how I had deliberately thrown my gun there (at the northeast corner) but I do not see it. It is daylight at this time. I am now briskly walking south through the north side of La Crosse (except that it looks more like the south side) and it seems to be night once again. I somehow have my gun again without contemplating that I had gotten rid of it. I am the black female character again. I make sure my gun is holstered in the front of my pants and unseen. I am thinking of finding the Loomis Street house to hide out even though that does not make sense as I am supposedly someone else. I vaguely recall that my sister had died but that my brother-in-law may be there (though they had actually moved prior to my sister’s death, though I was living in Australia by that time). I continue to carry the two cloth bags of money and other items, one in each hand. I notice that about eight people are running towards me, though not directly towards me. I think they may have attempted to rob a closed business but none of them are carrying anything. Police cars go by but they curiously do not stop. (The scene of these looters, including their appearance, was very similar to something I did not know about until after this dream and seeing it on the news, so I am considering this part as prescient.) I cross the street (which may be a distorted version of Loomis Street, though too commercial) to my right and turn right down a very narrow alley with tall commercial buildings on each side. The alley is not wide enough for a car to follow me through and is at least two city blocks long. However, nearing the opening ahead, I see a puff of smoke going past the edge of a building on the left side of the end of the alley at about head level. It is the chubby policeman, who is smoking a cigarette, who had vowed to catch me. I knock him in the head with my heavy bags and knock him over. The police woman, who seems to be on my side, is possibly going to help me escape now. The preconscious modelling itself artificially, or mimicking itself, in needing to wake another dream character (instead of me) is about as surreal and unusual as it gets (even stranger than a false awakening where I am writing down or telling someone about my previous dream). The threads of my dream self identity changing a few times (without any focus on that dynamic) is rather odd as well.
Stress dream in a hospital I was in the lobby with my mom and we were waiting to be called in for some back problems that I was having, but I had lost my paperwork and I was searching frantically to find it. There were also potentially awkward encounters all over the place that I was constantly dodging - People from my high school and university that I did not particularly want to run into. I was also trying to collect all of these 1$ and 2$ australian coins. They were all over the place! I don’t know what that was about but by the end of the dream I had a hefty collection and I was trying to carry as many of the coins as I could in my hands and shirt while leaving a shiny trail in my wake. After what felt like an hour of this madness, my mom got called over by a nurse and the nurse lady got upset at me because I didn’t have the paperwork and she was going to kick me out of the hospital. I started to cry and she felt bad and changed her mind. I was confused about what that dream was about when I woke up, but then I remembered that my mom is going into surgery for her back later today and I think that’s what it was probably related to. Bryan Cranston is a Red Dolphin I was acting out a movie scene with Jim Carrey and Brad Pitt; Jim Carrey was supposed to be an evil clownlike character, similar to his role as the riddler, and Brad Pitt was a super tough and manly cowboy. We acted out the following scene a few times before I became lucid: It was a clear starry night, around midnight, and we were walking along a boardwalk. Brad Pitt slowly walked towards the water and raised his hands at his sides, face up. A cheeseburger tied to a balloon floated up from each hand and then gently landed in front of me and Jim. We picked them up and started eating while negotiating some kind of deal. I think I was supposed to represent good, Jim was evil, and Brad was a neutral arbiter. Anyways, the scene would end with Jim Carrey betraying us and trying to murder us with an impressive arsenal of various obscure and sometimes comical weapons. On the final take, Brad gave me two cheeseburgers and Jim only one, then Jim broke character and was showing off all his cool weapons, one of which was an old-school crossbow. I started telling Jim that there was no point in having such a weapon because it would take way too long to load. Brad picked it up, intending to show me just how wrong I was. He loaded it and fired towards the moon. The arrow came down and almost hit someone that was swimming. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Brad had kind of a crazy look in his eyes. He grabbed me by the shirt and threw us both into the water. He changed into Bryan Cranston and started talking to me about breathing underwater. I thought to myself, “Breathing underwater is fun in dreams…..Breathing underwater is pretty cool….Breathing underwater is fun...in dreams! ” I tried to change Bryan Cranston into a dolphin and his skin started bubbling and his body turned red, then he grew fins and turned into a sort of bubbly-skinned red dolphin. I jumped on top of him as the Bryan dolphin sped towards the bottom of the ocean. We swam by a colossal, ancient, white sea creature and my Bryan dolphin friend swam into their mouth. Pearly white teeth closed behind us and a golden light erupted from the cracks in the creature’s teeth. We swam out of their mouth and suddenly the red Bryan dolphin had turned into a killer whale. I didn’t remember that they were still considered a dolphin until I woke up but I rolled with it because crazy shit was happening and I liked it. I rode the orca to Atlantis and saw a friendly looking mermaid. I wanted to ask her questions but as she approached me, her hair puffed out, her teeth turned into fangs, and her eyes turned red. She lunged at me and started furiously gnawing at my arm. After several quick bites I threw her off me. Many more mermaids burst from the sand with puffs of black sand. I Heard a voice that suggested I should come back in another season when they’re less hungry. I moved time forward about 6 months and they were all nice and friendly again. I noticed that all of the muscle bound mermen were avoiding the ladies and so I asked them why they weren’t hanging out with any of the women. They told me that the guys all thought the girls were crazy and after asking around a bit I found out that all the mermen were very gay. I wanted to go talk to the mermaid ladies but I was a bit nervous since our last encounter was a bit scary, but I went over to one of them anyways. She looked uncomfortable and I asked her if she was gay like the guys were. She said, “YES! Yes. Gay. That’s it.” But I think that she just thought I wanted to have sex with her and she didn’t want to be bothered by me. I guess she had already met Fryingman and woblybil.
Updated 03-16-2017 at 01:57 PM by 66732
Morning of January 31, 2017. Tuesday. I am comfortably seated at what seems to be the counter of a dimly lit bar. There is not much setting detail and I am not aware of any other people but the bartender. I am mostly only aware of the view in front of me and somewhat to the right. The bartender is unfamiliar. He is a male of casual dress in perhaps his late forties and remains standing behind the counter at all times. I have coins and tokens in each hand, probably only a few in my left hand; at least a dozen or more in my right hand. I eventually look at them and see that most of the coins and tokens are different. The coins are all possibly from other countries. I am aware that they are probably not worth much, but I enjoy collecting them. One of the tokens, with a solid form, appears to be for a national park. It has a design on it that shows shrubbery and a forest area with a lake in the background. It seems that I can attain more coins and tokens by gambling. (I seem to “remember” this without any other details.) I hand the bartender two similar coins. I am not sure if he is going to use one at a time, or both at the same time. He seems to hesitate near some sort of small device on the wall. It is almost as if I am exercising some sort of subtle mental will regarding his decision. He eventually places two coins in the device. Several coins and tokens flow out at the bottom as if automatically (with no other action; for example, no slots or seeming gambling feature or functions as such). He hands them to me without emotion or comment. I am glad to have a few more coins and tokens, some of which are different than the others I have, even though I again reflect that they are not that valuable other than as a collectible interest.
Ritual: Woke at dawn after about 4–5 hours sleep and complex but dimly remembered dreams. Considered taking galantamine but decided against it, as my motivation was not sufficiently high. I didn't want to completely give up, so I took a quarter teaspoon each of piracetam and bacopa. Woke at 8am with dream. DILD, "Let's See What's in My Backpack!": I was walking through some type of institutional corridor when an odd plaque on the wall caught my attention. It was a rectangle of flat grey stone like slate, about a foot long and a few inches high, with block capital letters incised, reading: "AWAKEN." Like what, into a dream? I thought wryly. For that to work, I'd have to be... oh wow... am I dreaming? No sooner had the suspicion arose than I immediately recognized it to be true. I immediately went into dream observation mode, taking the plaque into my hands and examining its details. Feeling grateful that the dream itself had given me a clue as to its nature, I was reminded of a similar incident that had happened just earlier tonight: this was the second time I had gotten lucid due to events in the dream. A DC had said "lucid" and that had triggered me. No wait, actually it was the third time... I remembered briefly getting lucid in an even earlier dream, but I was embarrassed when I realized how quickly I had lost that awareness. Of course, the fascinating thing about these memories is that I have no way of knowing if they are real. I'm more than half inclined to think that they are false memories, the kind of deja vu that is so common in the dream state. Then again, I still forget such a great portion of a full night's dreaming, even now, that the possibility remains that these incidents actually occurred. There's no way of knowing for sure, which is interesting in itself. It is the perfect epistemological quandary. Now aware that I was dreaming, I continued walking through the institutional corridor, and felt that I had been walking through similar corridors in my just-remembered lucid episodes earlier tonight. If the memories are not false, there is nothing surprising about the coincidence: for some reason bland institutional corridors seem to be my default dream space. I wandered aimlessly for a bit—I think I passed a cafeteria—until I realized that if I wanted to stay lucid this time I would need to perform some deliberate action. During my WBTB I had not felt motivated to attempt any DV tasks, so that is probably why none occurred to me now. As I continued walking and wondering what to do I noticed a familiar sensation, and realized that I was wearing my backpack. Since 2001 I have been using the same leather backpack, seemingly indesctructible, every day at school and on every journey I travel. I was amused that it was with me even here in a dream, and surprised by how distinctly I could feel the impression of weight on my back. Wondering what might be in it, I realized that this could be a fun spontaneous task. I passed from the corridor into a very large rectangular room with walls tiled in squares of light blue glazed ceramic. The room was completely empty, with no features or furniture or people. I walked to the very center and announced loudly, even though no one was in sight: "Okay, everybody! I'm going to play the game of 'Let's See What's in My Backpack!'" I unslung the backpack from my shoulders and held it upside down, dumping its contents into a pile on the floor. The first thing I pulled off the pile was a winter jacket, made of smooth synthetic cloth with a quilted core. The inside was a rich royal blue, and the outside was bright red with black highlights. It was very clean and new, and resembled no jacket I have ever owned, nor would be likely to purchase. The second thing I picked up was a clear plastic bag with a zip lock, one of the medium-sized ones that is deeper than it is wide. It was full of coins. I looked more closely at the coins and it was clear that they were all Thai, though they resembled no WL Thai currency. "I wonder if I just got back from Thailand," I mused—meaning within the context of the dream. The next thing I grabbed was a plastic bag of similar shape and size, and this one also contained flat pieces of metal, but instead of being round like coins, these were engraved rectangular strips. I decided that they must be some decorative pieces I had picked up in Thailand. This idea had evidently taken hold, because the next few items in the pile were cheap Thai souvenir gifts, like decorative little pouches and other small assorted knickknacks. I set these aside impatiently. Next was a book, evidently a journal, titled A Wonderful Compendium of Lessons of Life Learned. I regret now that I was not inspired to open and read it! I must have figured that if the lessons were already learned, I wouldn't get anything new out of it. It did not occur to me that my waking mind might be really interested in what my dreaming mind might think to put in such a book. After this I pulled four different water bottles off the pile, one after another. One was a hot water bottle like you use in bed. One was military style canteen that I thought I recognized as one I used to own. Another was a flat drinking flask, fairly large in size. I think the last one was just an ordinary plastic bottle of water. My impression was that I needed all four bottles because they each served a different purpose: hot water for warming, cold water for drinking, warm water for drinking, and flask for drinking. But I realized that it was terribly inefficient to carry four separate water bottles, and I wondered if I could consolidate them down to just two, so I would have less to carry around. I decided to worry about that later. The last thing I pulled from the pile was a very large duffel bag, the size of the one I use to carry my HEMA gear. In WL my bag is plain black canvas, but this one was (not inappropriately) emblazoned with the Tournament of the Phoenix logo. It occurred to me that given how much stuff had been in my backpack, perhaps I should be using this duffel bag to carry it instead—but I remembered what a pain it was to lug around a huge unwieldy duffel bag, and decided to stick with the backpack. At this point a huge crowd of people suddenly thronged the room, all seemingly in a hurry to go somewhere, and they were sidestepping me and my stuff with annoyed expressions like I was in their way. "Hey! I claimed this space first," I protested. One DC paused to look at my Tournament of the Phoenix duffel bag and asked another DC standing across from me something about martial arts training in the area, talking right over my head (I was still sitting on the floor with my stuff). "You'd think you'd be asking the person with the duffel bag," I muttered, slightly miffed. I noticed that whereas I had initially occupied the very center of the room and had not moved, now I was all the way over near a side wall, and yes, right in the path that everyone was trying to walk through. I had time enough to wonder if I should wake and write or dream on a little. I decided the latter—I usually do—but found myself waking up anyway.
Last night bed around 9pm coz early shift. I switched to sofa for better recall at 11 pm. DR: I'm on a shore of an ocean. Can't see the water well, because it's at night. Standing on some walkway few feet above the sand, looking down. Me and others from my group of safety guards/lifeguards are looking for some coins/tokens and other things that someone left in many places on the beach. They have some significance. I open my hand and show others what we are looking for. I see some coins on the sand but when I zoom my vision in, it's just an american quarter. I find this a productive task. Change of scenery I'm walking on a sidewalk with a chainlink fence on my left side that has branches of a bush growing on it. I spot a huge tank on the grassy lawn behind the fence. I quickly duck, but it's too late. They saw me and a skinny, long cannon on this rust-red, 2 story high tank which is long and wide as 4 normal tanks, starts turning towards me. It looks like a tank from star wars. I stay hunched over and I ran alongside this fence. I stop in the middle, where I see another military vehicle, that is like made of some see-through plastic. Somebody catches up with me and in effort to see over the fence, he kinda pulls it down a bit. I fall down on my back because the enemy saw me and eagle like tallons couple of feet long are grabbing at my legs. Someone either lobbs a granade at it or something similar, but I'm able to pull away.
Morning of September 23, 2016. Friday. I am in the Loomis Street house in the living room. It seems to be late morning (as the room has a natural light source coming in through the east and south windows). Zsuzsanna and our youngest son are also in the room. There is a bed that extends out from the south wall of the living room (where there never was such a feature in real life). Oddly however, it is meant to be the holographic projection of a television show. I approach the bed from the left (west) side. In it, on her back, head oriented south, is an unfamiliar female with a matte gold face. I get the impression that it is a hospital bed, though I am uncertain of the situation or the status of the female’s health. I am unsure of what genre this “movie” is. I absentmindedly find myself reaching out to touch the left side of her face even though I firstly see it as an intangible hologram. It is as if I am testing an expectation to “make something real” or to “bring something out of a projected image or picture” (which has occurred in numerous dreams since early childhood). Some of her “skin” moves out from her face to wrap around my hand with a feeling much like bread dough that moves under its own will. This “dough” moves around through my fingers with no sense of wetness or stickiness; just a smooth, soft feeling as it slides comfortably over my skin. I find it fascinating and talk about this with Zsuzsanna and Oliver. Oliver finds it somewhat amusing. Upon looking at her face, I notice that it unrealistically sags so that her mouth is much lower than it should be. Her eyelids also appear to have expanded to flow down over the rest of her face so that there are no discernible eyes. Perhaps this is a science-fiction “movie” we are watching on “television”. I touch the left side of her face again (the previous “skin” seeming to have become a part of my own hand) and a larger piece of “dough” wraps around my hand, almost snakelike (though not disturbing or annoying in any way, just a bit curious). It again smoothly crawls between my fingers, around my wrist, and about my forearm. I place it in a heap on the floor next to a plastic container. I explain how I am able to take things out of pictures, even though I have no lucidity. I say how I can take money out of a picture or television broadcast, though this comes with a recurring dream backstory related to how I do not want to create duplicates of bills (which are numerically unique), though coin duplication does not have this concern. I have a small plastic container with compartments. I find myself sitting on the floor with Zsuzsanna and Oliver, moving two-dollar Australian coins from one compartment to another, some compartments seeming to be “in another world” and resulting in my moving them into “this world” even though there is no indication of either a picture or an implied “portal” or which compartments are implied to be in which “world”. It simply appears as a plastic box with coins in different compartments. There are also very small Lego pieces mixed in with the gold coins, including miniature swords. This last part was visually precognitive. Oliver was actually working with Lego pieces (including small swords) in a plastic container with compartments soon after without any way of me knowing that this is what he would be doing at this time. The bed is a dream state indicator (the most obvious one possible) and my waking transition is sustained. Other than the typical short-term prescience, there seems to be a link to Zsuzsanna related to sharing sentience within the dream state (as otherwise unknown females in some dreams have an autosymbolic connection to Zsuzsanna, especially in regarding the bed DSI as here). It also seems influenced by a movie we had seen prior to sleep, where a female expected to die becomes conscious (without a medical explanation) and seemingly healthy after a group of people pray for her (“The Genesis Code” from 2010). Variations of yellow and gold typically symbolize sentience, intellect, and instinct as analogous to sunrise and dawning conscious awareness. Coins in a dream as a collective rendering relate to three main concepts; coalescence (dream self flowing back into whole self), a play on “cents” (sense), and a play on “change” (which may be a play on the waking precursor in “changing” from the skewed dream self viewpoint and identity to the whole conscious self viewpoint and identity).
Updated 01-28-2018 at 07:55 AM by 1390
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