Morning of October 6, 2017. Friday. Something has happened to my physical form, but possibly only as I am “sleeping”. I think of myself as a paragraph of writing, in the form of a hazy cloud of about four feet long, hovering a few inches above our bed. Being a paragraph incarnate makes me feel somewhat vulnerable. I am aware of Zsuzsanna sleeping om my left, but my viewpoint is curiously from somewhere in the center of our bed at times. Other than being only a hazy cluster of “words” hovering a short distance above our bed, there is a perception of having an additional “shell” at times, or some sort of armor, but which comes and goes. There is no viable perception of having a physical body. I vaguely remember an affirmation (“I am of the healing powers of Universal Mind”) but I do not fully grasp or sustain it. I turn in my “sleep”. It is like a twisting that “rolls” from “head” to “foot” when I do. It occurs about four times. I am aware that having transformed into the form of a paragraph relates to my illness (food poisoning). I only feel slightly ill in the dream state. Before I am fully awake, I start to realize aspects of this abstract dream’s source. It is quite old and it has been years since this memory was more present. Years ago, in an animated version (shown on television a few times) of “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court”, there was a scene where a boy informed the main character that he was a page. The Connecticut Yankee responded by saying something like “A page? You’re no more than a paragraph.” Additionally, having the “armor” around my cloudy form relates to the (King Arthur) knight association with the story. The perceived “suit of armor” is obviously a biological symbol of wishing to be protected from the norovirus. The rest, including “being a paragraph”, is incidental to this association with the Mark Twain story, which I had not thought about for a long time. Since early childhood, my non-lucid dreams, other than prescient or precognitive threads, have often resolved themselves in meaning in a form of light hypnopompic thinking (as well as reveal source patterns that created my dream in the first place), which is often carried directly into conscious afterthought (although this process is occasionally “replaced” by a false awakening where I am writing down my dream or talking about it with someone else). In a way, this has always been like having two dreams in succession, the original dream (often surreal or at least unusual and illogical) and the decoding of its meaning while waking or in a different (much lighter) level of unconsciousness. (It was not until I was about seventeen years old that I started to come to terms with the fact that most people were apparently not like this.)
Morning of July 27, 2016. Wednesday. Even though I am fully lucid, I had entered a very skewed version of “When Wakes the Dreamer!” (first read around age twelve in 1973 in Eerie Magazine). My wife Zsuzsanna is outside talking with an unknown female. They are looking at the horizon at what are apparently unusual events related to the supposed HAARP (apparently closed in 2014) conspiracy. It also seems there may be some sort of military action but not as an imminent threat. San Francisco, as in the story, is “gone”. Misty “tendrils” of either smoke or cloud rise in the distance, some tongue-like. As I am listening to Zsuzsanna and this unknown female speak, I look up at the nighttime sky and see a huge cloud. It looks much like a human face, mostly like Doug in a particular panel of “When Wakes the Dreamer!” though oddly in the negative (even though I do not recall seeing it in photographic negative at any time in my past). (The word balloon with the image had read “Just moments ago you said that I was aware of things that the mass media would never realize existed! Perhaps!”) Still, Doug’s huge visage almost seems like pareidolia in the back of my mind (especially as seeing a face in the clouds is a common form of pareidolia - and even though it is a dream, I do not want to embarrass myself). I mostly stare in awe at the sky. I am not that concerned about the female of whom Zsuzsanna is talking to regarding the so-called HAARP weapon. I never draw their attention to this weird cloud at any point even though I consider doing so. His “tongue” seems to extend and go up along the left side of his face almost to his “forehead” - which is almost like a separate vertical cylindrical cloud formation, not quite like a tornado, but becoming more like a giant pale vertical tomato worm cocoon (distorted by elongation and being rendered in photographic negative). Still, the more closely I stare at it, the more eerie (no pun intended) it appears. If Doug is the dreamer of my dream, where does that leave me? Certainly it is not my face in the clouds. I find myself wandering through an alley and “returning” to our home, though it is a mostly unfamiliar residence still deemed to be ours. I discover a package that looks much like a miniature pillow (obvious dream sign) which seems to be on our bed (another obvious dream sign). I am aware it contains a small amount of various organic herbs and seeds that we had ordered, which were quite expensive. However, when I go closer, everything starts popping out of the package, though each at a different time, such as maize flour (the first to somehow “jump” through the unwrapped package), sunflower seeds, fennel seeds, and seemingly thistle seeds as one of the last features (the kind you “make a wish” on). I do not want all of this wasted, so I eat the small amount of maize flour as well as some of the sunflower seeds and fennel seeds that later emerge. (I believe this segment was caused by sounds in my real environment at the time and my dream trying to resolve these sounds by including both dream signs and very slight “nourishment” and an analogy to increasing awareness of physicality.)
Updated 07-13-2018 at 04:46 PM by 1390
Morning of July 3, 1974. Wednesday. Dream #: 2,753-03. Reading time: 32 sec. I had a shorter than usual dream of a “flying elephant’s head” that is a sentient cloud that is also like a living creature at times. It chases a small airplane (probably a Cessna) across the blue sky. I seem to be flying alongside the plane in an incorporeal form. The pilot can get to freedom, as small parts of the cloud (almost like smoke puffs) come off in the pursuit until it begins to break up to the point that it is nearly nonexistent. The cloud creature is seemingly named “Gumbo,” which is likely a play on “Dumbo,” the animated flying elephant from the Disney movie. A Harvey comic book story about a big cloud “bully” partly influenced this dream. It began to break up when trying to maintain the form of a human.
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