Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 10, 2015. Thursday.



Last updated Sunday, 27 September 2015: I added a rough map with textual corrections, as past online versions of this entry did not describe the correct directional orientation. I offer my apologies and I thank you for your interest in my extensive and meticulous dream work.

The outdoor setting in my dream is of a fictional layout (though with known familiar features in the wrong place), and yet, it is somehow the “same” area I supposedly lived on King Street in the 1980s. The King Street boarding house, rather than being on the corner, is moved in my dream about one large lot westerly from the corner. This alteration, to my knowledge, has never occurred as such in any dream. That is, to my knowledge (and extensive dream records), I have never dreamt about (or ever imagined while awake as far as I recall) the King Street boarding house being anywhere but on a corner of an intersection (and usually in the correct location except for a few dreams where it seemed more westward relative to the rest of La Crosse).

I am with Leonard S, the Polish pinhead (and unlike Schlitzie, who was also male, Leonard always dressed in men’s clothing). Usually when he appears in a dream (at least over the past twenty years), it is an ordinary conversation or experience somewhat enhanced with a cheerful mood. This time, I am reminiscing over when I first met him, though there does not seem to be a back story regarding my implied age as he himself looks as he did around 1980, perhaps even a few years younger (possibly looking as he did before I met him in real life). However, the “memory” is entirely fictional. I talk to him about when I supposedly found a toy soldier buried in the ground in the empty lot to the left of the boarding house when looking southward (and as already stated, this layout did not exist in reality), near the southwest corner of the lot, just before I met him. I apparently soon gave it “back” to him (assuming he had lost it, though perhaps he deliberately buried it - this is not certain). He does not seem confused or annoyed over this faux memory and my telling of it. Most of what I relate seems fairly “realistic” until I wake.

I visualize the empty lot, which seems to be at night. Much of the front of the boarding house itself looks similar otherwise. In the majority of dreams concerning Leonard, he often seemed of near-average intelligence. In real life, though, he would do a lot of unusual things, such as, upon seeing a girl, shout “Puddytat! Foooooos!” and would paw the air. Still, he was friendlier, more outgoing, and more generous than a lot of normal people.

Morning of June 25, 2015. Thursday.



I am once again at the King Street boarding house in La Crosse, Wisconsin where I have not lived since the late 1980s, though this is also an atypical in-dream location in the backyard near the southwest corner. I find a yellow plastic bucket (probably about a three-gallon size) full of paper scraps, about three-quarters full. All of the paper scraps have either one of two shapes. Either they are square and have some writing on them in typed print or they are shaped like corner-to-corner adjacent longer rectangles and without writing (similar to one of the Tetris shapes, and indeed, this dream may actually be based on my interest in the so-called Tetris effect, though not relevant to the Tetris game itself as I do not play it). I find the rectangular pieces (about four inches in length) quite intriguing in shape for some reason and first consider that they might be worth more than the other scraps even though the square pieces have a written claim that they can be reimbursed for a certain amount of cash, possibly around five or more dollars though I am not certain of the amount.

Still, I begin to sort them out, and eventually realize that the curious connected rectangle shapes (many of which are slightly curled) may not be worth anything after all as they do not have writing on them. This makes me a bit annoyed as there seem to be slightly more linked rectangular scraps than the square ones, which I realize are probably some sort of mail-order coupon and perhaps worth three dollars each at this point. Thus I become more interested in holding onto the “coupons” to mail them in for cash. I am not even sure who the bucket belongs to, or of any in-dream back story to the scene.

Eventually, my pinhead friend from years ago (who also lived at King Street), Leonard S, comes out and informs me that none of the paper scraps are worth anything and that the square “coupons” are related to some sort of mail-order scam. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I already knew this and ponder why I even bothered sorting them in the first place.

This dream seems to be an odd composite of two fairly clear associations from over twenty years apart. The paper scraps remind me of a science activity I taught recently (grades six to eight and of a McGraw-Hill manual) whereby you “classify” different shapes of small paper cutouts into different groups to learn about how scientific classification works - even though the activity did not include the rather peculiar joined rectangles shape (which I still find a bit intriguing to appear as such so consistently in a dream, especially a fair number of the exact same size). The other aspect reminds me of years ago when Leonard kept sending money to the same company each time he supposedly won a “prize” which always turned out to be a tiny black stone glued to a piece of cardboard, which he apparently enjoyed getting (although his mood was quite erratic at times - he looked like a more developed version of the more well-known Schlitzie, and was also more intelligent and mentally competent in most ways though his mother did not want him and he grew up in St. Michael’s Orphanage in La Crosse).