Blue_Opossum

Morning of July 19, 2018. Thursday.



In my dream, there is the usual snake scenario, though there are different factors as is typically the case. Our two youngest sons are present in the unfamiliar room. The setting is meant to be the house we are now living, but it is not familiar.

There is a small snake that does not seem much of a threat. It slithers off into an area of miscellaneous items; mostly toys.

We see a big green snake. As it slithers out, I swing at it with a sword, though I miss the first time. I chop off its head in my next attempt.

The nature of my dream changes. Some unknown people are present, but I do not see them as intruders. The setting now seems to be a discernible variation of the Loomis Street house. They are going somewhere. An unknown female is leaving her daughter behind in the back of her car. That seems a bit unusual to me, but I think I will check up on her later.

Later, the setting changes into what seems to be a variation of the Barolin Street house. I hear a noise on the porch, and I go to check. I consider it might be one of our children, though it now seems late at night. After I open the front door, I see an unknown boy on the porch in the semidarkness. He seems to be an East Indian of about fourteen years old. He is standing in the center of the porch, which is larger than it was in real life.

“What do you want?” I ask him. He does not move, and I become slightly annoyed. Perhaps he is a neighbor’s son wanting to sell me something, though I remain unsure. I consider that he might be intruding deliberately. I do not know his motive.

“Suzi, could you get my gun?” I call out to my left. The boy looks concerned and turns to leave.

"I was just kidding,” I say as he is exiting the porch.

After this, there is awareness of the world soon coming to an end. I sit on a couch across from Zsuzsanna, and she seems concerned. It is now morning in an unfamiliar lounge room. (It is still implied to be our home.) My dream self does not register the sudden change in time as is almost always the case.

The world is going to end today. I am not sure how I know. I feel wary of this idea. I think back and understand it somehow relates to an encounter I had with someone. I am in an anomalous state that I cannot resolve consciously. I know it is from a previous dream encounter, presumed to be from before the snake event. Although I know I am dreaming I do not know I am dreaming.

I soon wake with the full realization that I had been dreaming, feeling relieved. Still, I cannot resolve the enigma of knowing I was dreaming, yet not knowing. It was as if my dream self knew I was dreaming without my conscious identity knowing. Although this has happened on other levels repeatedly since childhood (especially in non-lucid dream control), it has never been expressed in this specific way before.

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The porch showdown with the preconscious avatar (a common form of RAS mediation since early childhood) had different dynamics than usual. The mood was different and seemed more like an interconsciousness avatar. It was even more like an external entity, though this might have been illusory.

The “end of the world” scenario has occurred regularly since childhood. I rarely have anxiety in dreams, but in this one I did. I think it might have been heavily influenced by “Dream Replicants and the Emergence of Simulacra” by Richard Catlett Wilkerson, as I had also been writing a series of pages about emerging consciousness simulacra. For example, one part in Richard’s text read, “More currently, Carl Jung, and then James Hillman have suggested that even the ego in the dream, who I think of as me in the dream, may also not be me. Linda Magallón has also suggested we give the dream a higher existential reality and address the dream and dreamer and dreaming process as a kind of entity.” Ultimately, it represents my subliminal knowledge of my dream ending.

The snake scenario, in this case, is typical RAS modulation (which is very common in most people, yet somehow no one ever catches on even with some websites featuring a few dreams a day with the same content). Here, it only served to shift my level of consciousness rather than wake me. Cutting off the snake’s head was autosymbolism for subliminally separating from my conscious self’s identity for a time, as in other dreams. (Snakes otherwise signify different aspects in other dream types when not a segment of the RAS factor, often human intestine, umbilical cord, or electrical cord warnings.) Green shows up more in a particular band of awareness, midway through the dreaming process (also signifying peace and balance depending on the hue), followed by yellow (unification stage of the dream self and conscious self), orange, and red. Red, however, usually only dominates when I have slept too long in the last dream of a sleep cycle.

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Morning of August 9, 2017. Wednesday.



I become aware that I am babysitting an unfamiliar boy of about four years of age in the northeast area of the Cubitis living room. I perceive myself as being about twenty-five years old. It feels like it might be late morning. I have no associations with whomever the boy’s parents might be.

The dreamer does not realize that he has not lived in Cubitis since 1978, leaving when he was seventeen. He also does not recall that he lived in Wisconsin when he was twenty-five, not Florida. The memory of his three sons (and two daughters) does not seem extant, though the presence of the unfamiliar boy, who does not resemble any of his sons, may be a subliminal clue, though he otherwise has no memory of who he presently really is.

There is a huge Raggedy Ann doll sitting against the north wall near the northeast corner of the living room. I have a notion that the giant stuffed doll is somehow a mother figure for the boy. It almost reaches the ceiling. The head is unrealistically large in proportion to the rest of the doll. Time passes, and the head seems flatter (front to back) than it should be. The doll begins to sag and lean forward and the boy and I are annoyed that this oversized pie-like head may cover us. I have to push it back a few times, but when I do, the whole doll, especially the head, seems slightly thinner.

The dreamer still does not have viable memory. He does not question why a giant doll would be perceived as a “real” mother by the boy or comfort him as such. He does not even consider simply moving out of the way of the doll when it leans forward at times. He does not consider why the doll’s head gets vertically flatter when there is no discernible reason for the change. Perhaps he is subliminally aware of the weight of the blanket on his real physical body as he sleeps, and perhaps through the veil of sleep, he indirectly recalls that his youngest daughter has stuffed toys near her as she sleeps. Could this hodgepodge of current neural energy while sleeping be why such a scene is rendered? He also did have concern that his youngest son had enough blankets prior to sleeping. As a doll symbolizes the physical inactivity of someone while in the dream state, it likely is a very distorted thread of memory of his beautiful wife Zsuzsanna, combined with thoughts of his pillow that sometimes seems too flat.

Eventually, I notice that much of the oversized ragdoll is now more like a collection of blankets that fall forward at times, a couple that cover me, though I think the doll is still sitting there. It seems ambiguous, and the round face itself seems more and more like a large flat pillow I push back several times. It does not seem cold. I do not think that the boy will be harmed, only perhaps annoyed by being covered like this. After a few minutes, I am aware that Dennis (half-brother on my mother’s side) is coming into the house. He seems about thirty years old and is dressed like a biker. He wants to show me something. It seems the boy will be okay on his own, though I somehow perceive that Dennis has no interest in the boy’s well-being. I go with him for a short distance after leaving the house. I then decide to fly. Coming out from the house, it is now the King Street boarding house. I effortlessness fly north over Tenth Street South, leaving Dennis behind for now.

The dreamer’s brother had not been to Florida since 1970. Like every other dream feature, it is erroneous, completely removed from any correct timeline. Even more curiously, he walked out from the north end of the open carport in Florida yet simultaneously from the closed porch of the King Street boarding house, not regarded in real life much since 1990 and over 1,500 miles away from the original setting. There is no measure of distance in thought, but that is moot, as the two buildings were somehow perceived as being the same. The dreamer often flies in his dreams as if it was a perfectly natural thing to do. To take to the air to get somewhere else is what he has done often for many years in both lucid and non-lucid dreams, without considering physics or gravity. There is no doubt, but the dream self is not the conscious self, and the rules that dictate that flying cannot be as such do not apply, even if there was some subliminal memory that it was not possible.

I end up in some sort of forest on the other side of La Crosse, which I perceive may be several blocks west of Loomis Street. After walking around and entering a denser area of forest by way of a footpath, I notice that Dennis is already here. He talks to a seemingly homeless person in dark apparel. The unfamiliar scruffy male is sitting at the side of the path, facing outwards from the dense trees. Dennis seems annoyed and may be impatient about something. It has something to do with the other male not owning a motorcycle as he is expected to. There is no fighting, just a conversation. It seems the other male may have sold or lost his motorcycle and is now living in the woods. I walk around and see another clear footpath that leads straight through the densest part of the forest. It seems to be afternoon and the imagery is very clear and beautiful. The path leads east and seems to continue for quite a distance. I can see an open area at the very end that indicates an urban area. Still, after walking around, I decide to fly again.

The dreamer does not question this fictional area of land. The area in real life would be within the same area as the Northside Elementary School (though the area looks much different now than when he last lived there in February 1994). He does not ask himself how Dennis apparently walked there and got there before him.

As I am flying, my focus changes somewhat. I see below me, something that is almost like a life-sized map, showing how the area originally appeared. It was mostly a marshy expanse with no trees for a long time. This changes, as Dennis had planted a number of saplings over time, until it was a dense forest. Curiously, I am aware that no one else, including members of the city council, ever noticed this change other than Dennis and a few biker friends of his. I watch the changes in the map as I turn and fly south.

Looking down on a slowly animated life-sized map superimposed over the bird’s-eye view of the land below does not seem unusual to the dreamer. It is like a visual historical view displaying the changes over time, not following the rules of real-life perception. He does not fly back down to investigate or consider that if he did, he might be in the original treeless marsh as it supposedly was years previously.

I am now aware that it is nighttime even though it had been afternoon moments before. I do not find the change unusual. I am aware of a missile lighting up a small area of the sky to the north, over what I perceive may be a small island, but I still consider it as a threat even though it seems far away. My wife Zsuzsanna now joins me as we run southward. The buildings around us start to shake. They seem to wobble and waver unrealistically, somewhat like exaggerated jelly motions. I think we can escape. We run over the tops of buildings, over the roofs of commercial buildings of various heights, no attention to how tall they are. It seems effortless but annoying. I get the idea to take cover in a boiler room of a commercial building. I sense the ceiling may collapse, but it does not, though there is still shaking. We end up near a breaker panel. I have a fading idea about possibly resetting the main breaker, as if that might somehow make the building more suitable to hide in.

The dreamer’s memory seems more viable now as he recalls Zsuzsanna. There is even a thread of recent memory about North Korea’s missile launches, but little else. His focus on the breaker panel reveals a subliminal awareness of the neural energy within his mind, yet not fully realizing why this thought emerges in the last seconds of his dream or whether it symbolizes “deactivating” his dream, increasing his neural energy and expansion into whole consciousness, or both.

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Morning of January 14, 2014. Tuesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are back at the house in Wavell Heights in Brisbane where our two oldest also lived when growing up. The house is similar to the real one when we lived there, but with several minor differences. Most of my dream takes place in the kitchen. Zsuzsanna seems to be making a salad with carrots and lettuce.

We are babysitting the girl of a single mother, although I am unsure if it is “our” house in my dream or if we are supposedly at her house (even though it was ours in reality years ago). After a time, it seems that there is concern about where the girl is that we are supposed to be babysitting and she is nowhere to be seen; nowhere in the house or yard. I think about what we should do, as it seems to be problematic to be babysitting a child who is not even present.

Soon though, the dark-haired girl makes an appearance in the kitchen. When questioned, she says that she had been down by the riverbank with her boyfriend, having taken her bicycle to the location. This seems a bit disrespectful in taking off without saying where she is going. I tell her that if she had vanished, no one would know where to look. I ask her if her mother just lets her go off at random times without any clue as to where she is going and it seems the answer is yes.

“Your mother is a nut job!” I add dramatically. She goes and sits in the corner in the kitchen, to the right of the doorway, to brood. I soon notice that she has numerous tiny white spots on her shirt, seemingly caused by the ever-amusing “healing powder” (over “healing power”) mix-up. Apparently, a packet of maize flour had been thrown at her. The “healing powder” vs. “healing power” blunder always amuses me when it occurs in my dreams (though this only happens when I use “healing power” in lucid auto-scripting and it carries over in a distorted form in non-lucid dreams such as this one).

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It is of no consequence, really. Whether it is “powder” or “power” the overall results are similar enough. It is always maize flour. Even so, there is probably also a “flour girl” and “flower girl” mix-up at some levels.

“It may look like an antibiotic but inside it you have chalk, powder or if you are lucky, you get maize flour or whatever is inside there, decried Prof Rogo.” Sudan: Outdated legislation hindering health programs in Africa by Mena Report.

“I love the flower girl”; a relevant Cowsills lyric. (Zsuzsanna was the flower girl as a child in hippie Nimbin during the Mardi Grass/Aquarius festival, one of hundreds of precise dream clues that led to my real-life discovery of her as my soulmate).

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Aside from the subliminal auto-scripting in this dream that yet again confused “power” with “powder”, the young girl being down by the river with her bicycle is an autosymbolic play on dream state induction itself (as well as a childhood reference to the Dickey Lee song “Patches”). The river signifies spiritual communication as well as dream state initiation, with a younger version of Zsuzsanna, and the bicycle as an element of the physical body, signifying vague awareness of the hypnopompic kick that only truncates some dreams in the first stage of the sleep cycle.

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