Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday. Subliminal awareness of the autosymbolic nature of the waking process begins. My unconscious mind is personified as an unknown female despite the fact my non-lucid dream self does not possess viable access to my unconscious mind at this level of REM sleep. Errors and distortions abound. She is a subliminal thread of my wife Zsuzsanna, of which my non-lucid dream self does not yet possess viable memory of or contact with my current conscious self identity. She has a daughter who literally but subliminally represents our oldest daughter at a younger age. I am sitting on the floor in a unique erroneous version of the King Street mansion. The house is mirror imaged to its real-life layout, flipped east to west. I am in the downstairs antechamber while the female mostly remains in the living room on the other side of the doorway. She seems annoyed in building a small structure on the floor in about the middle of the living room, mainly from a set of small blocks of different solid colors, mostly blue, yellow, red, and green. They are about the size of baby blocks, but with a feature on all six sides that is like the knobs of a Lego brick, though there are four knobs on each side of each cube in a two by two pattern. A couple times, as the blocks do not fit into each other, stacks of about seven high topple over. There is a row of about eight stacks at various heights. (This is autosymbolism for failure to initiate viable conscious awareness.) I am puzzled and somewhat annoyed, though not angry, in trying to rebuild the staircase that goes to the second floor (where I had lived in real life though not been since 1990), which supposedly is to be the real staircase. This is an extreme failure of thinking skills as I am solely working with small triangular pieces of wood. The pieces are only about two inches thick. The two stacks I had made this far are only about six inches high in two rows of about eight pieces each. I cannot seem to arrange the pieces in the correct orientation regarding which edge should face upward. I have several together, but they do not display the form of a set of steps. This indicates that my subconscious self is having difficulty in reaching my conscious self identity during the waking process. Subliminal anticipation of the waking process continues but increases. This is after the subliminal recognition of a staircase being autosymbolism for the waking process despite its miniaturization in a setting that represents the liminal space of the process, the antechamber (what my landlady called a “vestibule” in real life). Vestibular system correlation personifies, which causes my dream to jump to a new setting, though in the same King Street mansion, still mirrored east to west. I find myself on the second floor. I develop an ambiguous awareness where I start to become partly aware of my married status and erroneously perceive the house, though vaguely, as the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (where we have not lived in years), though that was only a one-storey house and was nothing like the King Street house. Vestibular system correlation personifies as Glenn, one of our landlords from Stadcor Street. He has never lived in America, but my dream self does not consider this error. I have a vague awareness he is married to my landlady (only vaguely recalled as Zsuzsanna at this point, but this does not trigger the realization of my erroneous associations) even though in reality he had a male partner. A vague thread of dream state awareness is present at this point, though no threads of viable lucidity. Because of vestibular system correlation personifying as Glenn, who seems very cheerful, I walk through the doorway of the upstairs kitchen, which opens to the porch’s roof. This is from vague recall that a porch can be used to vivify a dream, as it is autosymbolic of a specific level of dream state consciousness of which I had used many times in the past, since early childhood, to vivify my dream or “step into” a more vivid offset dream. This process developed from walking outside by way of the porch’s doorway. Here though, I am somewhat puzzled from being on the roof of the porch, as there is no additional doorway to intensify my dream or trigger viable lucidity (as the option to jump off the roof to fly does not occur to me). Glenn looks up at me from the public sidewalk in front of the house. “You’ll have to use the catwalk,” he says happily. I get the impression he had used the so-called catwalk and jumped to the ground from the outer edge of the roof. I study the roof and see a precarious narrow section of wood that is separate from the rest of the roof, which puzzles me. I stand on it, but consider that I cannot get to the rest of the roof (which has some building materials and tools sitting about) even though all I would have to do is step onto it from this supposed catwalk. Even after fifty years, my dream self fails to remember the dream sign of a cat being a “witness” to liminal space and typically near doorways (for the purpose of inducing lucidity in some cases), though the association had been distorted into the word “catwalk” in this case. (No cat is present and my dream self does not think about cats even upon hearing “cat” as part of “catwalk”.) The association with a “cat always landing on its feet” is not present (regarding the vestibular system dynamics of the waking process, which is often a falling sensation, based solely on biology, not “meaning” as “interpreters” falsely propagate). My dream shifts into a different scenario as a result of considering the nature of the King Street roof (still erroneously associated with the Stadcor Street house) and subliminal anticipation of the falling sensation of the waking process, which does not occur as a result of this shift. Now it is a typical non-lucidly forced “haunting” scenario. I am downstairs again, but this time the setting is an ambiguous composite of the Stadcor Street house and the Cubitis house. I am now more aware of Zsuzsanna as my wife, though it is still not a complete recognition. She still seems to serve the role as landlady. “How long has…it…been in this house?” I ask her this dramatically, speaking of the haunting, which is mainly nonthreatening. We talk briefly, but I become distracted. I find myself in a dark room with an unknown female. There is talk about ghosts and seeing physical evidence of ghosts in this house. I tell her, “This is the only house I have ever lived in where there is the physical presence of ghosts.” On one level, I know ghosts are not real, but on another level, I have achieved non-lucid dream control and revivification at this point to entertain myself. The old writing desk that Zsuzsanna used to have is present, which results in an increase of thinking skills correlation. Near the opposite side of the desk from where the unknown female is standing, another female slowly appears. It is a ghost. “Can you see her?” I ask the female. She tells me that she cannot see anyone there. The ghost is a realistic version, as a “real” human, of Velma Dinkley (of the Scooby-Doo franchise), though about twelve years of age. She seems puzzled and very shy and uncertain. “Who are you?” I ask her. “I’m a goddess,” she whispers. I am puzzled and ask her again about five times. Each time, she softly says, “I’m a goddess”. I want to help her come to terms with her death. (This is a vague influence of “Show Yourself” from 2016, seen just prior to sleep, where I expected Travis to hug the ghost of Paul near the end, though he did not). I hug her, place my right hand on the small of her back, and move it up to the middle of her back. As a result, the palm of my hand begins to glow with white light, rays shining into other areas of the room. (I do not recall the association with Zsuzsanna having been born on September 13, though this was exactly one year before “Scooby-Doo” first aired, therefore Velma in this case is a subliminal representation of Zsuzsanna.) The palm of my right hand continues to glow as I find myself walking south through the Cubitis hallway. I stand in the doorway of the Cubitis southwest bedroom looking into the semidarkness. Several unfamiliar people, both men and women, are sitting on couches that are against the west and north walls. (This is an erroneous setup, as the north wall held the sliding doors of a large closet in reality.) I hold up my right hand and the light spreads into the room somewhat. The others are puzzled. I step through the doorway and wake. (This is a vague association with a security system reading a handprint to allow entry, or, in this case, to exit the dream state.) With this entry, I have attempted to explain the dreaming and waking process as best I could for this dream. (This is difficult in a society where most people have no viable understanding of dreams, many still believing in “interpretation” and “symbolism” in the popular sense, neither of which is real.) The bedroom is a literal thread of final recognition that I am dreaming, and so I choose to wake. The light represents attaining consciousness as a willingness to accept daybreak and intelligence of which only the conscious self possesses in waking life.
Morning of September 6, 2017. Wednesday. I am with my wife Zsuzsanna as we are living in our present home as it is now. Our landlord, whom we have rarely ever seen in real life, somehow managed to have had his grayish blue pickup truck parked in our lounge room (yet there was no backstory to how this could have happened). It faces east, oriented left to right when looking towards our front door. My dream self does not consider the impossibility of this situation. I am somewhat annoyed. Apparently our landlord had parked it here to work on for a time, to fully repair it. In the bed of the pickup truck are a number of small parts. There is also a blue tarpaulin covering the bed. I make a sarcastic comment that our landlord will probably take months to fix up his pickup truck. (This is based on the real-life association of how he takes a year or more to fix up houses he owns.) I am not really looking forward to our landlord spending so much time in our lounge room working on his pickup truck over the coming months. Meanwhile, I had been looking at a dream-related website that I had posted on in real life (though not as often as my main sites). I look over the posts I had made one by one, though at times, it is more as if I am looking at entries in an actual dream journal of the style of when I was a teenager. Still, there is a heart symbol indicating how many people had liked a dream post. I clearly notice that the number 45 appears to the left of one red heart symbol. (This is in error, as the heart symbol on the website in real life is blue. However, the heart symbol on another site, tumblr, becomes red when clicking on it.) It surprises me that 45 people took the time to click to “like”, especially as the majority of people, as to be expected, seem to have no interest in my personal truths regarding over fifty years of dream study and personal validation. I also notice other numbers such as 23 (for older posts). The numbers seem to increase with later posts. The pickup truck in my dream was validated in very early childhood to have two primary meanings, though which is more of a synthesis of parallel symbolism. One, a pickup truck has a “bed”, and is thus a distorted dream state indicator. In this case, there is even a tarpaulin over the bed, which represents a blanket on a bed (and being in the dream state). More so, the pickup truck is in our lounge room, where I have sometimes fallen asleep in the same area (while watching television), though with my head westerly, not easterly as with the front of the pickup truck - though I suspect this relates to my general dislike of commercial television. Two, a vehicle as such (including cars, boats, and airplanes), in addition to being related to a distortion of a bed after entering sleep, is also directly analogous to the human body. The truck is parked, relating to the fact that I am in a certain level of consciousness, that is, not yet in the waking transition. The repair work associated with the personified preconscious (in this case, our landlord) relates to the preconscious as a biological necessity which assists in both waking as well as linking to other levels of the mind for cellular repair. There have been numerous dreams since childhood with this same basic symbolism, though rendered uniquely each time. There is no intelligent reason to pretend the truck is something else other than the parallel symbolism of my physical body, and my body as it is in bed, especially as it is indoors in our house (not on a street outside) and a direct factor of the preconscious. Despite me being typically annoyed by the preconscious and its imposition into the environments of my dreams, it is a biological necessity. It ultimately has nothing to do with waking life personas in this case. Additionally, consider the heart symbol. This relates to the physical body as well; the human heart. The number I notice is 45, which I assume is an age reference, especially as the numbers are seen to increment over time. It may relate to a particular instance when I was 45 in contrast to how my heart is now, though I have not looked fully into it yet. Of course, the last, but not least, obvious dream state indicator is the dream-related website. Still, this did not trigger full lucidity, mainly due to having used the site in real life. Computer technology as somehow rendered into paper and notebooks is a commonly recurring feature, likely a carryover from having kept dream journals from early childhood on, long before computer technology was viable for storing dream data.
I have a lot to do for the day and I'm just about to get out of the house when I get a call from my landlord. She is complaining about all of these things that I've done wrong and I don't understand her on the phone so I ask to meet her. She comes down with the neighbor and they are friendly but they start listing their complaints. One is that the house is not clean. The other I don't remember. Between their complaints they start talking about how they were doing drugs the night before. I say, "I'm sorry, but I have a busy day and I'd like to get this all done as soon as possible." They say okay and then tell me about the bed that I gave to them. It is damaged and they think it is my fault. I don't understand them at first. The wall in my room is falling down and it is because of the bed falling through. Many people are in my room and we are all arguing. The landlord's foul son is there, the man landlord is there, and Jul and Ore are there. I notice it's raining and rain is coming through the window. I close it but make a mistake in doing so. Immediately everyone gives me suggestions and then applaud me when I get it right. I get nasty and say sarcastically "Thanks everyone." Ore has a window open and a fan in the window blowing rain onto my bed. I say WTF? I'm walking in a familiar scene. I've been there before in dreams. There is a river and mountains in the distance. I was bored with the landscape but then I thought that later I'll be climbing the mountains. I wanted to call my old friends Kyl. I couldn't find his phone number on my phone. I looked for him on facebook but he was not to be found. This dream sequence made me think of other dream sequences within my dream that had to do with Kyl. I meet Kur my zen teacher in the bathroom of my work. I tell him something about my zen practice and he is happy and encouraging. It has to do with me and my fear of death. In my dream there is a sense that I will die soon. I think I have cancer. There are many people peeing in the bathroom. There are three urinals where usually there are two. There are some grapefruits on the ground right by the urinal and I'm concerned about my pee splashing out of the urinal and onto the grapefruits. I pee there anyway.
Morning of June 23, 1998. Tuesday. I am not sure of the time but the front door to our apartment is rattling as if someone is trying to come in. I carefully check it out and open our front door. Our (real-life) landlord is there doing something with a ladder in the hallway of the apartment house. I say, “Oh, it’s you. I thought someone was trying to break in here.” A ladder usually represents an autosymbolic precursor for the return to full consciousness, which is something I clearly understood even at four years of age. The hallway setting is mostly incidental but still represents a “conduit” associated with the waking process in a similar manner as an alley. Either our landlord or an unknown intruder would still represent RAS personification, which represents the preconscious state. Still, as our landlord, it would suggest that I perceive my emergent consciousness as the “owner” of the dream state (at least to some degree) whereas burglars (or unexpected or unwanted intruders) suggest that I am not non-lucidly controlling my dream to the extent as in this scenario. However, in non-lucid dreams, intruders or imposers are sometimes more assertive and knowledgeable than my temporary dream self, which confirms the (precursory) essence of the conscious mind my dream self lacks and of which the preconscious only has to a limited degree. Being near a doorway also represents being closer to the waking point in many cases (though can also serve as induction into apex lucidity and full awareness and control in the dream state). Checking a door to see if it is locked in a dream (or an event that implies potential intrusion) is usually RAS (reticular activating system) mediation, sometimes caused by a real environmental noise at the time of the dream and sometimes with preconscious concern over whether it is locked - as I once discovered that our door was indeed unlocked after getting up after a waking start from a similar dream as this one. This is otherwise a common type of waking process autosymbolism, which I label “doorway waking symbolism” (though remember that dreams are not symbolic in the way of popular misconception, and that this refers to the dream state, not waking life, and my dream’s dynamics in real-life context are literal here).
Updated 11-18-2019 at 09:06 AM by 1390
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