Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 13, 2020. Saturday.

Dream #: 19,535-07. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



My dream self maintains the instinctual awareness I am dreaming (after dropping back from post-liminal mode to pre-liminal) by becoming more aware while sitting in a bed near the ocean (potential reinduction). There is the typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity, with my bed in this instance being near a harbor in Antissa, Lesbos, though the setting does not have a more discernible definition.

My waking-life identity is absent. I am listening to an operatic aria (fictitious, I assume) sung by Luciano Pavarotti about Antissa. (I do not listen to opera in waking life.) I am unsure of the source of the music, but it is probably from a cassette (as my dream self has no recall of what a CD is).

The sleep-wake manager eventually appears as an unknown male, but he is in passive mode (non-RAS; non-cerebral.) I sit down and watch him create a painting. It features a black oval as a scene of outer space. (This feature represents a higher level of sleep atonia, which may be why somatosensory kicks in as the trigger in the last scene rather than a vestibular event.) There are sparse red and blue ovular arcs around the “egg.” I absentmindedly add a blue ovular arc to the image’s right side with a felt-tip pen. Almost immediately, I feel as if I may have been intrusive in doing this. I start praising his art, focusing the most on the outer space rendering within the oval. He does not seem angry or annoyed.

A reporter approaches and wants to interview the unknown artist. There is still indoor-outdoor ambiguity, though the setting has more outside dynamics at this point. The two men stand and face each other, about ten feet away from me. The reporter says he is interviewing “the aggressor.” I am puzzled by this and state that he is not an “aggressor,” though I do not know his history. I hope I did not embarrass him by saying this.

Soon, a sun spider (camel spider), as long as the reporter’s head, crawls around from behind his head and covers his right ear. I am amused, as neither man seems to know it is there. Another sun spider of about the same size as the first crawls from behind the reporter’s head but goes around to the other man’s right ear. The man ignores it despite being aware of it. There is no sense of a threat, as my dream self considers them harmless. I wake at this point with a sense of great amusement.

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A vestibular-cerebral handshake did not occur as the waking process in this instance (as the result of greater sleep atonia but with a directive toward hand myoclonus), so it was somatosensory in this case. In other words, I sleep on my left side, with my right ear more exposed to my waking-life environment. The somatosensory focus was liminally drawn to that factor, especially as a spider often represents the human hand and its somatosensory arousal (though a sun spider is not a true spider).

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Morning of October 17, 2016. Monday.



The time seems to be early afternoon in all the outdoor scenes. In the first scene I am in our residence but I am not sure where it is implied to be. Our youngest son Oliver has a large terrarium that extends from floor to ceiling though it looks like an aviary. It is directly in the corner of the left side of the room, about two and a half feet square. He seems cheerful. Zsuzsanna is concerned about him seeing the turtle he had brought home the day before. I look in and notice that the turtle seems propped against the back of the cage on the right. It is on its right side and a bite had seemingly been taken out of it, shell and all, probably by another animal in the cage. I am not sure what to do with it but Oliver does not notice.

My attention falls on weird animals in the cage. There are a few spiders with black disk-like bodies, the bodies of which are almost as big as my fist, though their legs are nearly three feet long. The legs are thin and closely paired so that it looks like they have four legs instead of eight. One seems positioned head down, its legs on two different large branches so that I mostly view it from the top of its body. I look to the right side and notice that the cage, at least on that side, is designed more like the front of a jail cell with the bars sparse enough for any of the animals to easily leave the cage. The side facing me does not seem of this appearance. I comment on how they could get out, but it does not bother me that much.

In the second scene, the personified preconscious appears as an unknown male of about my age and is presently sitting in another area of the room, though does not yet attain a more dominant presence. I watch three mole crickets crawling about on a pillow. Two are their natural color but the smallest of the three, in the middle, is pure white. I reflect on the idea of them possibly crawling on a person in their sleep, but there is not that much concern. A mole cricket is a tertiary dream sign that symbolizes going deeper into sleep in real-time, two of them symbolizing Zsuzsanna and I but the white one in the middle representing moon induction (circadian rhythms factor) and shared dreaming on the spiritual level as analogous to the Blue Pearl event (inviolable telepathy between soulmates, specifically twin flames as Zsuzsanna and I are).

The personified preconscious points to an unrealistically large detached crab spider head facing us from the right side of a pillow across the room on a bed perpendicular to the bed I had been looking at near the center of the room. “Something should be done about that head on the pillow,” he says. Despite this incredibly obvious dream sign of him directly exposing his role as the personified preconscious, my dream self remains completely clueless and no lucidity is triggered.

In the next scene, we end up in a small dimly lit room which has the essence of liminal space (even though I am not near waking yet). He sits on a wooden chair while I seem to sit cross-legged on the floor. I am facing him as he talks about money but he seems sarcastic about a certain business I do not know the name of (although he had apparently said it a few times but my dream self remains unaware of some of what he says). He seems to mimic advertisements and promotional gimmicks. “Make lots of money,” he says, mocking the original supposed speaker and waving his arms around seemingly in frustration. “Have you heard of Amway?” I ask him after watching and listening to his routine for several minutes. He glares at me as if I am unbelievably stupid and had not heard a word he had said, as Amway is apparently what he had been talking about all that time. I feel embarrassed but try to explain that I had heard him, though my pretense is not very convincing.

In the next scene I find myself near an intersection having apparently mowed our front lawn recently. My (fictional) house is on the street that is perpendicular from where I am standing near a bus stop. I contemplate how I have to mow this whole area, but after a short time, I realize that it is not my responsibility and the city council will do it at a later date. Despite being near the bus stop, I am not interested in (subliminally) shifting consciousness. However, five young people get off. They do not regard me at this time.

Despite my cursory faux memory and brief acknowledgement of my dream house (which seems vaguely based on the Loomis Street house though the rest of the area is not as such), I soon go into the backyard of our present house, though the gate is on the wrong side; at the north end of the fence near the southwest corner of our house instead of the south end near the northwest corner of our shed. A young unfamiliar black woman, who seems to be a teacher, is there with Zsuzsanna. Zsuzsanna has seemingly been given something that was stealthily taken from the personified preconscious. It seems conspiratorial. There are apparently two batches of mail-order pills. I take the two packages from Zsuzsanna’s left hand. One of them is a C4 manila envelope (yellow) padded with bubble-wrap and the other is a white C8 envelope with lesser bubble wrap. I open the larger package to find that it contains several cylindrical prescription bottles of pills of some kind. (None of us take prescription pills in real life.) There is also a receipt. I look at it and read it closely. “These pills cost eighty-six dollars a fortnight,” I say, seeing the total price listed as $86.00 under $79.95 and the shipping and handling fee of $6.05. “It's eighty-six.”

I fail to recall that eighty-six is the number implemented when the personified preconscious gives up on my non-lucid dream self (having “eighty-sixed me”), thus no coalescence, implicit or not, at the waking stage. This is validated by the fact it comes in the mail, which represents communication between dream self and whole conscious self identity.

The preconscious essence flows into the five children (and I do not focus on the fact that we have five children although these children are unfamiliar) who had gotten off the bus earlier and so naturally they approach our home to impose upon us to try to get me to either wake or become lucid. Zsuzsanna and I are sitting on chairs outside of our fence, our backs to it, our youngest daughter and youngest son sitting between us (which is not something we had ever actually done). A boy somehow throws a large mattress fairly high into the air above our heads (probably subliminally associated with our youngest son now sleeping on the top bunk of a bunk bed), but it misses us in coming down, landing immediately to Zsuzsanna’s right. I get the impression that he had been trying to throw the mattress over our fence (beyond liminal space and out of the immediate level of consciousness). I still do not grasp such an obvious dream sign. “Are you trying to kill someone…such as a baby?” I yell angrily at the boy.

The entire orientation soon changes without a clue on my part. We are now all in our backyard on our side of the fence yet the five children (who must have teleported with us) are now leaving through the gate, the boy somehow carrying the mattress again (which does not at all resolve logically from a conscious viewpoint since he is seemingly carrying it on his right side as he would a textbook). I am so angry that I decide to follow them. As soon as I step outside of the gate, my consciousness shifts into the waking stage and I realize I had been had.

Morning of February 14, 2016. Sunday.

Dream #: 17,954-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and I are in a shed that may be a distorted version of our present home’s shed. There is also an unknown male character.

A trapdoor spider about four times bigger than a real one is near the doorway. It bites Zsuzsanna on her right knee, but she is soon a young version of the Erin Walton character (played years ago by Mary Beth McDonough), which puzzles my dream self in a way that alters my level of awareness.

The man holds her as she cries and sits down and he gives her an injection near her right knee with a hypodermic needle (a very rare dream prop for me), which contains the cure. It seems she will recover. I look in the doorway, and there stands the four-times-bigger trapdoor spider. I eventually understand that the spider is Kali. “She is the mighty aspect of the goddess Durga. The name of Kali means black one and force of time. She is therefore called the Goddess of Time, Change, Power, Creation, Preservation, and Destruction.” (Kali often has four arms and two legs, which makes her an “insect,” not a “spider.”)

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Zsuzsanna used to play with trapdoor spiders without knowing they were venomous (yet luckily was never bitten). Secondly, I associate Erin Walton with the petting of a deer (relating to a documentary feature about her that I saw years ago as well as the Waltons episode “The Fawn”), which was like a very similar image in a photograph Zsuzsanna sent me before we met of her feeding a deer.

Zsuzsanna’s right knee was miraculously healed (even though doctors said it could never be) when we first met and shared meditations. Although there are other layers, two are interesting and fit perfectly. One is a ghost story related to Kali as a demonic living statue (though I no longer have that comic book). On Thursday, February 14th, 1974, I saw “The Waltons” episode “The Ghost Story.” “Strange things are occurring at the Walton home. The family uses a Ouija board to ask questions about the happenings. A small boy staying at the home is to leave to meet his father. Things happen to prevent this.” The original newspaper summary: “John-Boy obtains a ‘spirit board’ which is reputed to foretell the future and to put its interrogators in touch with the psychic world. When the board appears to be delivering mysterious messages, Grandma and Olivia insist that the children stop playing with it.”

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The trapdoor spider in my dream seems associated with a Ouija board (which is dependent on the use of hands and which is what a spider also represents in some dreams in a negative context), also representing Kali, also representing “messages” in the liminal stages of sleep which have various transpersonal sources. Because my 1971 dream features doorway waking symbolism using Kali, it seems a relevant marker. On one level, it serves as a personal confirmation against so-called psychics, “dream interpreters,” or ideas from questionable sources.

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Morning of August 18, 2015. Tuesday.



This was after my most interesting dream of this date. In this case, it seems Zsuzsanna and I are within an “invisible” geodesic dome (one of the main settings for higher levels of communication, it seems) which is quite large. It would have to be to contain an entire carnival within. The carnival is apparently “closed”. It is late at night. There are blue lights here and there that provide minimal illumination.

My wife and I walk along, half walking, half dancing, so cheerful, not caring that no one is operating this rather odd carnival. At one point, I see a “roller coaster” moving about (though eventually actually more like a monorail) that is actually seemingly alive, glowing a sort of lighter green in contrast to the lights. A giant robotic spider “ride” walks around on its own for a short time, but is no threat in any way. (I even think I hear a human-like groan from it.) Still, there are no signs of any other people (yet).

The fortune-teller booth (from “Batman Forever”) sits in one area. We acknowledge it humorously but minimally as we go around in a somewhat circular path. We puzzle at it as being everyman. It cannot seem to make up its mind about where it wants to “go”. It laughs eerily and artificially but cannot move out of the booth as only its fake arm sways back and forth randomly. It seems “stuck” in its one sad little “role”.

The song “Bad Days” (by the Flaming Lips) plays over and over eventually and our dance-walk seems even more cheerful.

“You’re sorta stuck where you are, But in your dreams you can buy expensive cars, Or live on Mars, And have it your way…”

The watermelon scene in the music video reminds me so much of home…

“In your dreams, Show no mercy…”

Oh sure, it is an awful, terrible song, with awful, terrible music, but it is such a charming novelty and reminds me of the first couple of years I spent with Zsuzsanna.

The “fortune teller” comes out of the booth, now a real man for the first time ever, somewhat chubby and gray-haired, it seems, and dressed normally, informally. He snaps his fingers, kicks his heels, and walks up an elevated path over a hill (seemingly westward). I know that we will never see him again and I never see his face, and he never turns to look back at us.

“And all your bad days will end, You have to sleep late when you can, And all your bad days will end”…

Someone is knocking on 104. Knocking. Knocking. Knocking on the door (just like in the music video at that part of the song). Someone is knocking on our door at 104. (In real life, same number, exact time - synchronized with my dream’s residual rhythm.) It is a parcel delivery for our oldest daughter, which she soon gets.

I have slept later than usual as the real knocking on 104 wakes me.

Oh, Source, you so funny.

Morning of December 30, 2014. Tuesday.



My family and I, as well as my (deceased) sister Marilyn (who appears only about thirty in-dream) are in an unfamiliar residence. On the other side of the large room and partly blocked by the fact the room is L-shaped as well as us (sister, son, myself) being in an alcove (the rest of my family in another part of the residence), is a television showing, it seems, an old black-and-white Bela Lugosi movie (though not like any real one) and the audio is oddly of what seems like a rude sonnet by a narrator rather than actor dialog. The sonnet is at least partly about manually pleasuring oneself, but there are other aspects.

There is an alcove (to my right) where a larger table extends outward from it and about halfway out from the alcove. My oldest son, his back to the television, is somehow “on” the inner wall of the alcove closest to the television, possibly somehow sitting on the upper left corner of a cloth wall calendar. It does not make much sense how this could be and something so absurd does not trigger even the slightest lucidity. My sister is the only one facing the television across the table from me, though I sometimes turn around to look at it. The sonnet contains crude adult humor though I am not sure my son understands it as his face remains without emotion. There is a line about someone having their hands in their pants (for self-gratification).

The volume is low and I notice earlier on that my sister is leaning forward a bit as if in attempt to hear it better. I turn the audio up with a remote control and ask her if she can hear it better and she nods.

I then look at the beige cloth wall calendar. It is possible that my son is actually “sitting on the wall” like Spider-Man rather than his weight being on the left edge of the top of the calendar. I notice a rather large spider crawling on the lower left corner of the calendar. I tell my son to look (as he has always had a real-life interest in arachnids) and he tries to capture it. He tells me that it is not venomous when I ask him about it.

The spider’s abdomen is quite strange and strongly resembles a darker beige pair of bowlegged corduroy pants (though the “legs of the pants” are not actually spider legs, just the odd abdomen shape).

Because a spider typically represents hands, this echoes the earlier line about “hands in pants” and the fact that it is not venomous reflects that self-gratification is not “bad” as spiders in dreams sometimes represent metaphorically (although spiders sometimes have other hand-related meanings, such as a fear of being punished - this I learned from my childhood spider dreams).

Morning of May 9, 2014. Friday.



In my dream, I am living in Cubitis with my wife (who has never been to America at this point). On the west wall of my old bedroom (where the three jalousie windows would otherwise be though now there is only one twelve-paned sash window in the middle - this being of a long-term precognitive change with no former knowledge) is a large but narrow shelf, about two feet across and about six feet up, almost as long as the room but stopping about two feet from the southwest corner. It is almost like the implied top of a bunk bed, I think.

There is no terror or distress as one might expect from the following sight (at least in the real word). There is a “five-foot spider” on the shelf, its legs hanging lazily over the edge of the shelf above our bed. It is black and “furry”. I am not even sure it is alive though, as it never moves the whole time. Perhaps it is even a large stuffed animal, as I do notice a small stuffed animal near the middle of the shelf which I think is a pale blue elephant with white triangles on its body. I am not sure what we will do. I visit the scene at least twice in at least one dream “reset”.

As spiders often represent the human hand in dreams (visually), this may relate to negative associations with typing my dreams from this time period with a much larger focus than when younger as well as placing them “on the web”, though because the giant spider is on my shelf, it may be associated with the vast dream journal material I have not yet posted and implying I am putting a lot of manual work in it all.

Morning of July 20, 1974. Saturday.

Dream #: 2,770-01. Optimized 1 min 15 sec read.




In the late morning, I develop a growing concern about a brown recluse spider being in my room in the Cubitis house.

I go to the carport, intending to go into the backyard, considering it might be safer outside. As I walk, I look down and see the brown recluse "spider" embedded in the back of my right hand with minimal blood (eight small red spots in two clusters of four).

My dream self sees it as a "spider" even though it is a capacitor with eight wire "legs" (four jutting from each end). I can vaguely make out random letters and numbers on the side of the "spider's" cylindrical body (but I do not recall the sequence). My sense of awe feels artificial: as if I am creating a scene for a movie. I sense its milky "venom" is not yet in my bloodstream. My dream fades before I go beyond the east end of the carport (that would otherwise lead to our backyard).

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Causation and Influences:

Second-hand "dream interpretation" is impracticable. There are many reasons why. As a metacognitive dreamer, my dreams predominantly respond to my navigation of the dream state while in it. Here, there is a specific amalgam of two literal influences. They are both tied to somatosensory phasing from sleeping on my hand and the "buzzing" effect from lack of blood flow in this position. The first was my concern about a brown recluse spider being in my room in waking life. The second was minimally injuring my hand while tampering with the inside of a radio. The screwdriver also slipped, and capacitor gel squirted into my eye, creating my dream's illusory implication of a capacitor as a "spider" with "venom." There are additional influences, one relating to the "buzzing" (or tingling) from lack of blood flow as correlating with electricity and associations with neural energy (in navigating the dream state).

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Morning of November 7, 1970. Saturday.



Although this was one of my favorite dreams of this time period, I guess I really was not very good at coming up with more precise titles (or even interesting ones) in many cases (the original title, here, had never been changed to any other title in other transcriptions to sometimes allow for more detail with similar dreams). The song from my dream, which I actually recorded a few times when younger (unfortunately, without any sense of musical taste) - brings fond memories of hilarious incompetence. Then again, this was a “movie soundtrack” in a sense (or more of a “dream soundtrack”). It opens with a showing of not-very-realistic stars as if the camera is moving through space at a fairly slow speed. The higher mid-range male voice moans somewhat slowly and sadly, “Thi-yi-yi-yi-yings…from outer spay-yay-yay-yay-yace…may bring truh-uh-uh-ooh-ble…for the human ray-yay-yay-yee-yace…”



June 2015 UPDATE: After all these years, I have decided upon an interesting viable association with the human hand. Apparently, it was a giant land-going cuttlefish.

The main first scene is a “giant human hand” (the right hand - with bulging but human-like eyes and a crown placed on its “knuckles” with special effects of some kind) that moves from right to left, spider-like (as I have decoded spiders to often represent negative associations with human hands due to their visual matching as even the “Alien” movie did with the “facehugger”, though in a few dreams they had a positive association with human hands in connection with “The Eensy Weensy Spider”), with an eerie stop-motion-like effect on the sand in the area it is “walking” but not quite as much with the “alien monster” itself. The imagery seems to have the same overall mood as the scene from “Dinosaurus” from 1960, where in-dream, I reflect on the sand moving in a similar way as the dinosaur’s body is dragged along the beach (which may be an augmented sense, “amplified” in-dream). The fact that I know this “alien monster” is actually a human hand (moving through a model of the school grounds?) seems to remove all sense of any possible threat from my dream. I find it intriguing how some of my dreams were able to “amplify” the very clear but somewhat artificial feeling of some of these movies from the early 1960s, especially the stop-motion ones like “Mysterious Island” (1961) and “Jason and the Argonauts” (1963), two of my favorites.

Later, however, I am in the high school building where I and other West Elementary students sometimes went to the auditorium in real life to see various shows and such. I am trying to “hide” from a large orange “octopus man” (also with a crown) who is mostly moving around in the dark because of a teacher having sent me to turn the power off to possibly “trap” him due to his supposed poor vision. I am doing this by staying to the right outer side of the doorway as a tentacle moves out from the doorway now and then, moving near me but not touching me. I suppose that I could move to the left and leave the area, but for some reason, I remain near the doorway.

The crowns were quite plain and similar to crowns in several other dreams. Mostly orange-tinted and with a seemingly engraved triangle waveform on the band, similar to the zigzag pattern on Charlie Brown’s shirt, but not quite as thick. Sometimes, I get the sense of two short antennas on either end of the crown, with a lightning bolt moving between them. I had drawn pictures with this feature during this time period.

There are a few other scenes involving Toby T and the fact that we will probably still be going to school even with all these strange creatures moving around town. There are also parts of music playing, from the song “Aquarius” from “Hair” - and I get the sense it is related to “this movie” in-dream. At one point, there is a giant bat and human composite, which was not mentioned in all documentation instances.

New research implies that “Zontar: The Thing from Venus” was also possibly an influence. It had aired after “Dinosaurus” on the previous evening on “Shock Theatre”.

Morning of October 11, 1970. Sunday.

Dream #: 1,392-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



“The Visitor” is my original dream journal title from childhood.

There is a house with a supposedly haunted kitchen. I am unsure whose house it is or where it is, though it could be a sister’s house even though there is a commercial venue association at one point, vaguely causing me to think of the Coney Island restaurant in La Crosse where I had not been since 1967, though the rest of the house seems residential. (Houses with commercial features are not uncommon in my dreams.)

People believe in the haunting due to reports of a ghost drinking a glass of root beer from a straw. No one saw a ghost, but other people and I saw root beer lower in a glass until it was gone.

I eventually see that the “haunting” is the result of a daddy-long-legs spider at the top of a drinking straw. It is somehow drinking a full glass of root beer but never grows bigger. Seeing this amusing event creates a cheerful mood. There were resets of my dream, but this final scene was silly. (At one point, the spider seems to have a cartoon face.)

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My dream has subliminal associations with perseverance (as with the “Eensy Weensy Spider” song and fingerplay, the drinking straw being analogous to a water spout). I was unafraid of looking more closely at the presumed haunting. “Out came the sun and dried up all the rain” is another association with water (melatonin) lowering over time (though root beer in this case).

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