Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 13, 2020. Saturday.

Dream #: 19,535-03. Reading time: 2 min 56 sec.



Although parts of this dream have influences from coronavirus associations as read in the media in waking life, there is, as usual, no dream self recall or concern about the pandemic, only three compartmentalized threads unlinked in my dreaming experience. The first is a reference to someone having a sore throat, the second relating to the claim I read in an article that bugs in a dream are “symbolic” of COVID-19 (and yet people have always dreamt of bugs long before this), and the third relating to stores being abandoned and boarded up (associated with media reports about rioting and looting as well as COVID-19).

My dream self is a sorcerer in this imaginary scenario. My waking-life identity is absent even though I am in what is possibly a variation of the Hinkler Centre shopping mall though it also has the vague, ambiguous essence of my middle school and a shopping mall in La Crosse. An unfamiliar man and woman approach me. The man claims he got a sore throat from me. I tell him, “I never had a sore throat in my life.” (My dream self has no recall of ever having one, anyway.) I had supposedly been in service to them as a sorcerer, though I am unsure as to what he had wanted from me. He reminds me by giving me a card (about one and a half times bigger than a business card) that supposedly has their requests on it, though I do not read it.

Even so, I am annoyed. I do not want to deal with these people, so I summon scarab beetles in their direction, though only a few crawl towards them. (This event is similar to one in a dream from April 14, 2020, though that was with comedic, sarcastic intent with ants.) I decide to leave the scene, now recalling I should be wearing different clothes (instinctual awareness of being undressed as I sleep).

I walk out to the parking lot (liminality management) and notice most of the windows of the shopping mall are boarded up (another type of dream state liminality management, though with a more defined division between dream space and wakefulness). I want to get something from a store. I eventually find one store at the other end up the shopping mall that is not boarded up and is open. It is a grocery store with many shoppers. After I go in, I look around and realize I am not here to buy anything but to retrieve my clothes. (It makes no sense other than as specific co-occurrence with preparing to wake by being near a checkout with the association of getting dressed after getting out of bed. Once dreams are understood for what they are, there is no doubt as to their translation.)

Instead of waking with this otherwise familiar process, my dream becomes exponentially more vivid. The vestibular-cerebral handshake kicks in to an extreme degree, and I find that I seem to be a young boy scout (and dressed the part, including with khaki shorts) even though I also have the recall I had been a sorcerer in the previous transition. Three men tower over me like giants, though I do not feel threatened or insecure. They are going on a fishing trip and are waiting for the man I wanted to avoid in the first dream segment. He eventually arrives and is huge. However, I summon a fireball and disintegrate him. The other “giants” do not seem to care and behave as if they are glad to be rid of him.

Even so, I decide to instinctually initiate the next process. I turn and walk through the wall of a nearby building into a dark bedroom. However, one of the men from the previous scenario walks in, though he is now normal size, as I am. He is thankful for me getting rid of the other man but patronizes me by giving me a card addressing what he wants from me by way of sorcery. Soon, another man comes in and also gives me a card with his requests.

I am then on the porch of my present home (liminality management) and wonder if I should wait for the third man to approach me in case he also has a card. Even so, I begin to feel that my dream is too ridiculous to continue, so I wake myself.

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Morning of January 30, 2017. Monday.



All the members of the Waltons family each have singular kiosks set up along the roadside in a straight line, adjacent to an old warehouse. It is a back road in an unknown region (but is probably meant to be Walton’s mountain). Each of the Waltons is selling something different. Mother Walton is selling handmade potholders and oven mitts. Grandma Walton is selling preserves in jars. (She is at the last kiosk on the left.) John Boy Walton is apparently attempting to sell the books of his he once had printed from a subsidy publisher he was victimized by. I am not sure what the others are selling (though Jim Bob is seemingly with slingshots).

It is nighttime eventually, and rather dark out. No one else but me (other than the Waltons) had been in the area. A very small meteor comes down and hits mother Walton’s kiosk but does not seem to do much damage. Another one just misses Grandma Walton’s stand.

I tell them that the meteors are coming down in a particular pattern. They do not at all seem to be concerned about the falling meteors even with the two close calls. I predict where the next one will hit and I am correct. I go and put the contents of the small meteorite in a large transparent glass container.

Looking closely into the container, holding it up, I see a few bits of rock. I also see a curious orange glow on the right side of the container. Near the center of the container is an odd structure that looks cylindrical and constructed of green glowing glass shards that are long and thin but also resemble a burning cigarette (other than the embers being green).

After a short time, there are two oversized beetles in the container, bigger than my hands. One is a golden Christmas beetle, the other resembling a green weevil mixed with a rhino beetle. I am thinking of how they came from another planet and somehow survived within the meteor (even though they seemed to rapidly grow from out of the embers), though I consider how there is only one of each (though each is beautiful in its own way). I am also thinking that they are too different to reproduce since they are seemingly different species. No sooner do I hold that thought for a moment when they start to mate. The shiny green beetle climbs atop the golden one and they remain mating until my dream ends.

The Waltons, especially Grandma and John Boy (who are standing the closest to me) stare at the event, not speaking.

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Morning of January 23, 2014. Thursday.



This dream starts out in the small front room (left-side of front door) of my sister’s house on Loomis Street (on a side note, my vivid dream about her health I posted previously - though with no real-life knowledge of such, turned out to have a few layers of precise precognition - unfortunately). I am not fully lucid. I am however, aware that I can manifest things somehow even though I am not aware it is only the “dream world”.

Instead of an additional notes on the layered precognitive dream about Texas, I will include it here. In real life, my sister was just diagnosed with lung cancer and liver cancer - I had known nothing about this until I was contacted just over a week ago. My dream “Texas winter wonderland and ‘dying’ relative” was dated December 29, 2013. This dream had several precise layers of precognition, a couple immediate, the sister issue less than a month. The “wife’s younger step father” actually turned out to be my wife’s younger half-brother (who bears a striking resemblance to a younger version of his father). This represented how he was in a state of “recovery” from his abusive criminally insane mother and I saw him in real life for the first time in years later that same day. In fact, without even thinking about it (since various types of precognition is so normal for me), I had posted an additional entry on one site where I mentioned meeting him after the previous dream (without making the obvious connection). I still have not met my wife’s step father, and her half-brother in real life looked exactly like the younger male in my dream in manner and expression.

My sister, however, was beginning to experience the pain of cancer (she did not know she had it) on that date (and for some reason, did not get it checked out in time - she is in the hospital now). Again, there was the unusual Texas winter in real life that I did not know about. The unknown woman in that dream (who I thought my sister had changed into) was actually someone I did not know who had been helping her. Almost everything in my dream was of composite precognition - which is often the case on a day to day basis, but usually too personally irrelevant or trivial to write about much.

In the first part of this entry’s dream, I want to take a photograph of my “dream” even though I am not lucid. In other words, I am dreaming that I am having a dream while “awake” in my dream. This seems a bit strange, but this is how it is. My sister is there, but appearing to be a bit better after her husband goes and gets her with regards to the camera. (In real life, after I was told of her condition, she did drastically improve according to a message from a friend of hers - so an earlier dream where she was in the hospital but doing a lot better also turned out to be somewhat precognitive - in that dream, my wife and I were there and our youngest daughter was sitting on the bed with her - however, in all honesty, the cancer is pretty bad). At any rate, I deliberately (mentally) create large click beetles that form on the wall. The click beetle represents a person (or “normal” mainstream people in general) “bugging” me with their ideas, since click beetles bite the lip of a sleeping person. However, these click beetles may not be able to be photographed, as they are mental creations of a dream within my dream. There is also an obvious play on the click of the camera as I hear the “click” when I take the pictures. To my surprise, the click beetles show up in the photographs.

A few other people come into my dream and I am in a different (larger) room. An unknown older male tries to do the same thing I had done, but the beetle becomes “too big” and then flies around the room and chases him as he screams.

Later, I am somehow immediately in the backyard of our present home. It seems really late at night. A group of men, about seven or more, are walking in a drunken manner down the street from the north on the opposite side from our house. (This of course, happens fairly often in real life). My youngest son is awake and also in the backyard. The men walk along singing some sort of song as drunks often do in the middle of the night. As they are approaching, I float into the air and somehow “walk” on the thin metal clothesline to get a better look at them (to see past the higher fence-line). I become aware that their walking is somewhat marionette-like, reminding me a little of Pinocchio.

They get closer and closer. I sense they are college students, or more specifically, college (American) football students(?) - not sure from where. As they get closer, crossing the street to our side, I then walk along the fence like a cat would do (of course, which would be physically impossible for a person). They say hello to me and wave and are a bit rowdy and annoying. One starts talking about various things, including feuds with people that are trying to sleep and acting as if the streets are theirs to do whatever they want on - including yelling gibberish and random unrelated names at people they cannot even see. His nose starts to get a bit bigger when he speaks. (This “nose growing” might seem like a phallic symbol to some, but that does not make any sense in light of the events and associations). The others do not seem to notice. In fact, every time one of them speaks, their nose grows a bit. This means that they are not capable of speaking without distorting the truth. One comes closer to the fence, and, while I am hovering slightly above him in midair, I punch him in the face. He starts complaining about me confronting his useless foolishness and begins creating an immediate “revisionist history” of my life’s path. His nose then grows so large, it is at least two feet long and covering his entire face so not even his eyes are visible, the weight actually preventing him from getting up until his friends help him up and then have to guide him, as his nose is so big, he can no longer see where he is going.

They continue southward, but turn down the alleyway near the apartments, and I see lights come on in the apartments from people annoyed by their antics.

Drunkenness in dreams is seemingly my mind’s way of internally showing how such people are in a sort of “limbo” (an intermediate place or state relating to a mismatch of the liminal “gates” and not correctly “phasing” to either one or the other - that is physical reality or deeper, meaningful dreaming) and can neither discern waking reality or dream representations of anything, so are useful at neither.

There was a precognitive layer in this dream as well. Just now (in real life), a young drunk pulled a board off our fence. He mostly was in the middle of the road using it to hit cars. Three others were walking down the street and he threatened them. He was fighting a bit with all three and then he fell backwards. Eventually, two police officers arrived but they just let him yell, dance around, and swing the board at them without doing anything. (They were very cautious in going near him.) I cannot say I have seen police behave that way before. At any rate, a police van came and I guess he went in on his own. Nothing like this has happened before in real life at this address.