Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 24, 2018. Wednesday.



I find myself in an extremely vivid lucid dream. I am in a large unfamiliar enclosed porch, mostly empty other than a big table I am sitting at, where my computer is. My computer keyboard has several inches of space in front of it (whereas in real life, my computer keyboard’s closest side to me is right at the edge of my desk). I am aware of Zsuzsanna in a room to my right, though I do not see her. I see the doorway, but I mostly sit in semidarkness. (Of course, a porch is autosymbolism for liminal space, my most common setting of this nature since childhood, occurring in at least one dream per several days for over fifty years.)

I marvel at the level of realistic detail. I think about typing on my computer’s keyboard, but unusual features come into play. Firstly, I have an association with the Caps Lock to my left. After a short time, there are two small padlocks, more like holographic images, appearing on the two lowest left keys. They are on their sides with the shackles facing me. I find this curious and puzzling.

Although doorway waking symbolism is implied as a precursor, and being to my right (typical waking symbolism orientation), I start to focus on my left side. I eventually see my detached fingers moving over the keyboard, though more as a semitransparent hologram of which is additionally implied to be some sort of optical illusion. I am in awe over this imagery. My detached glowing ghostly fingers float closer to my “real” (dream self’s) hand (where I also see that I have normal fingers, so the detached ones are indeed implied to be some sort of optical illusion). I try to make the connection to real life, failing to understand this type of imagery is only possible in the dream state.

I slowly begin to become more baffled by the vividness of my dream. It seems to surpass many previous levels of lucidity (though not with certain dreams, such as the quetzal and rooster one from March 1986, which had several astounding prescient threads in one dream). More so, I actually start to focus on the orientation of my real physical body and can even seem to “feel” (or sense) the real left side of my face. However, instead of the occasional absentminded folly of wondering if my physical body is somehow walking around in traffic as I am in my dream, I vividly remain aware of the left side of my face being on my pillow. I become focused on trying to make sure my dream self remains in a “safe” position, with a slight concern about the pillow cover being closer to my mouth. However, there is no actual feature or direct tactile impression or more vivid tangibility as such, as it seems to be on a different inexplicable level of awareness. This has no effect on the level of vividness. It is odd (and eventually distracting) trying to associate the essence of my dream self’s left side of my face (which I can feel and am fully aware of) with my real physical body’s left side of my face. I am so amazed by my situation, I do not think of inducing a new scenario or going through the doorway, which in some cases intensifies my level of lucidity rather than causing me to wake (though apex lucidity is typically only triggered if there is an actual door to open). I am also puzzled by why I am not hearing the hammering next door (as they are putting a new roof on that house, which was damaged when our roof was torn off and part of it went through theirs). However, when I wake, they had been taking a break. (They started about six in the morning.)

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Morning of October 10, 2015. Saturday.



This is a set of three shorter dreams in which one shifted into the other with only partial wakefulness.

The first involves being at an unknown location near a river bank. My wife Zsuzsanna and I are watching alligators swim through the water every now and then, just under the surface. A few other people are walking around. The alligators do not really seem threatening. Eventually I notice how a few of them look very different from normal alligators, though mostly around the head. I point out that it seems someone is apparently doing strange experiments with dinosaur DNA or possibly even living dinosaurs and alligators, as each alligator seems to have minor features from a known dinosaur, one having a head somewhat like a Tyrannosaurus, the other like a Styracosaurus, though flatter and more alligator-like. I even manage to pull the Styracosaurus alligator out of the water and partly onto the bank so that I can show people what I mean.

After a partial awakening and back into sleep, my wife and children and I are back on Barolin Street, except that all of the houses north of ours (as in reality) are gone and the area is replaced by a large field of mostly short grass and which is bordered by a fence adjacent to the sidewalk. Only a few other people are around farther to the north.

An unnaturally large Tyrannosaurus, probably about twice as large as any real one ever was, is walking about in the field as if being kept there by the small fence, which is only about the height of an average human waist. I see another Tyrannosaurus nearby, about three lots beyond the first one. In the back of my mind, I sense a part of myself contemplating how I will change my dream from an uneventful one into one where we are chased by the dinosaurs. (This vague awareness of making my dream in real time which also occurs with clearer awareness in indescribable abstract dreams has occurred since early childhood, though there is no hint of lucidity otherwise.)

The Tyrannosaurus moves his head down, leaning forward, and smashes down the tiny fence with his head, as if the tiny fence was somehow keeping him in the field when all he needed to do was just step over it without even noticing. I find this scene somewhat comedic, pondering the seeming low intelligence of the creature. I tell everyone that we need to go back to our house, as the dinosaur is now loose. It is soon moving very fast in our direction though the other one seems to be considering which direction to go (as there are more unknown people to the north). We go onto our porch, though the door to the main entrance and hallway is locked. From here, I non-lucidly manipulate my dream by rewinding it, pausing it, and jumping about in terms of sections of previous events.

In my next dream, we are inside the Barolin Street house, in the living room, I think. I am near the center of the room sitting on the floor. For some reason, I am practicing my firing of projectiles, which are actually finger bones from my hand. I somehow pop them out from my skeletal hand and fire them across the room (with a force that carries them to the wall, a few hitting a desk). I do this at least twelve times with all twelve of the phalanges of my right hand (not counting my thumb). I somehow continue with my left hand (not realizing it would not be possible as my right fingers are all gone). Looking down at my own skeleton, I see that I must have also already used some of my ribs at an earlier date. It is no problem, as I will eventually probably snap all my bones back into place later on.

(This may have something to do with the difficulty we had in snapping together the life-sized Billy Bones model kit a few months ago.)

Morning of May 27, 2007. Sunday.

This was a very weird and vivid (but not what you would call lucid) dream about primarily my right hand being continuously injured and each finger almost coming off at different times during the dream.

My fingers (all four, but not including my thumb, which remains okay in the dream) somehow get cut by paper I am reading from, I believe - to where it causes all of their flesh to detach from the rest of my hand near the middle of the joints.

(I need to point out that the bone is never damaged or detached, just the fleshy areas, although it does seem at times like the entire finger may come off, but that does not actually happen.)

The sensations are extremely vivid and realistic in every sense of the word. There is not as much blood as one would expect and a couple times, I think of wrapping bandages around them. I even try to manually push the severed flesh back around the finger bone and it actually works for the most part.

It is very weird as the dream draws to a close; somehow my fingers (their flesh) perfectly reunite with the flesh they had somehow torn from, almost like a strong magnetic pull that “melts” the flesh back together and at the same time, having a sort of flowing effect (hard to explain), almost like pouring a glass of water into another but more of a sort of jelly-like rejoining.

Just prior to fully waking, my hand is perfectly whole again (better than ever) although it is very cold (and slowly coming back to life) and with a chalky powder around the fingers where the worst damage was. Of course, no scars will result, since the flesh flawlessly “melted” back together again.