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Afternoon of November 25, 2017. Saturday.



My beautiful wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are living in a trailer in a trailer park in an unknown location. It is mostly in a field of low grass and not many land features, not even a discernible city in any direction, though there does seem to be a road in the distance. Thus, the only extant conscious self threads are of my present marriage status and nothing else, not even a focus on what country I am in, yet with my dream self (personified subconscious) ridiculously accepting the setting as legitimate (even though our large family could certainly not fit in a trailer).

After some brief generic activities with my family, I step outside the trailer and notice a Belize guerrilla grinning at me and holding a rifle diagonally across his chest. He is standing about ten feet away from the trailer’s entrance.

While all the other members of my family are still in the trailer, I lift my hands into the air while I am standing just outside the doorway, indicating my submission but only mild surprise.

However, the guerrilla, an unfamiliar male of about thirty, points down at an area of ground with his rifle. I notice no less than twenty dead kraits in a cluster, the outer perimeter of the cluster being less dense with krait bodies in various curvy positions.

Apparently, he has done us a big favor in having killed the surprising number of snakes, now strewn about lifeless on the ground near an isolated cluster of rocks to his left (my right). Lucidity comes in at only the last second prior to waking and I immediately recognize this common component and its core meaning.

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In approaching this dream with truth and understanding over superstition and the fallacy of “interpretation”, it is seen to be very basic. Some very basic knowledge about dreams is required; one, that this is an isolated dream during an afternoon nap, of which has entirely different symbolism than dreams of other time periods or during longer sleeping periods (due to the nature of circadian rhythms having the strongest influence over the dream state); two, that it was during a very light sleep with minimal REM; three, that this dream type is basically of waking symbolism only, with no relationship to real life.

The personified preconscious (the Belize guerrilla - based on an unconscious confusion of Punta Gorda, Belize with my birthplace of Punta Gorda, Florida), typically linked to the reticular activating system (RAS) actually subdued it rather than augmented its dynamics. This is because RAS symbolism is only needed in extended sleep. My brief thread of lucidity is all it took to transmute the preconscious into the emergent consciousness. When one is ready to wake (especially during a lighter and shorter sleep), there is no need for aggressive preconscious mediation.

A snake is the very epitome of RAS due to its “primal fear” status in the majority and bound to be the most inherent waking alert in many imaginary dream environments, yet many people persist in pointlessly bumbling along with imaginary “interpretations”. Being the oldest waking mechanism (other than the falling sensation linked to inner ear dynamics based on the shift in unconsciousness to consciousness), it is apparently even the origin of the Christian myth with the serpent (RAS) in the Tree of Knowledge (human brain in unconsciousness).

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15.01.2012

The Dream of the Mall Shoot-Out (DILD)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I went to the bigger island next to mine to meet a local woman whose young daughter was in the hospital. I decided to accompany her to the hospital. We drove there. The hospital was in a giant mall which was partly underground.
Once there, we got separated because I went to buy a magazine for the little girl. I was in the shopping part of the mall, outside the checkout lanes, when people started firing. It was a small squad, about a dozen people. I ducked being a checkout counter. I could only hear them, so I had to guess what they were doing. They were coming from my left and getting closer, shooting people as they went. I heard the victims scream.
There was a dead female cashier close to me so I crawled there, put some of her blood on my shirt and played dead when the squad passed by.
When I was alone, I tried to think about what to do. Other gunmen joined the first squad, it was a little army and they were obviously professionals. They occupied the whole mall, stoping the country's forces from liberating it.
I met other survivors in the mall and we started a resistance. We gathered a few weapons, for instance I had my commando knife with me. Some of the men were older men whom I met in real life about a week before. There was also a man about my age which seemed to have war experience. We fought the invaders, it was a real mall guerilla, hiding in boutiques and between shopshelves. Many people died on our side. Everybody fought, mothers, children, old people.
There were also a few conflicts within our group. I had misunderstanding with the man of my age when I thought he'd stolen my knife, but it was a close-looking one.
In the end, after a few days, the country's army managed to get in the mall but they realized we'd done most of the work. We were tired, dirty and hungry, so we roamed the mall for food, and the police had the nerve to tell us to stop stealing!
Flash forward a few months: the mall has been abandonned following the blood shed. The state has decided to convert the office buildings into nice flats, and me and some of the other survivors are imagining our future life there, the landscaping, etc. As for the shopping part of the mall, it will be turned into a giant market like Rungis for the whole south of France.
End: I'm at home when I receive a phone call from a British woman. She says she wants to meet me to make a film about the attack. For some reason I can't make out a third of what she's saying, but in the end I understand that she wants to make a film and not a documentary, and would like me to star as myself.