Blue_Opossum

Afternoon of August 4, 2015. Tuesday.



I will open this entry with a recent very vivid and somewhat disturbing dream (on some levels).

“Spaghetti Brain”

Morning of August 2, 2015. Sunday.

I am in my present home on W Street and I notice my youngest son sleeping on his left side on the floor. His head is encased in a glass aquarium filled with water. As I look more closely, I notice that the area where his hair would normally be is fleshy (though somewhat hollow) and that there are strands of (cooked) “living spaghetti” moving about in the water (somewhat worm-like) as if related to some sort of breathing function. At times, though, the “spaghetti” is much sparser and this seems cause for concern. I also see a small piece of macaroni at times (mostly above where his ears would otherwise be), which vaguely reminds me of some sort of tiny worm. He does not seem to be in distress though I still worry about whether or not this is normal. I seem more concerned when there is the least spaghetti “swimming” about and moving down and through some sort of organic structure near his neck. As vivid and surreal (and bizarre) this imagery is, I do not become lucid at any point. I continue to have deep concern about his well-being, but there does not seem to actually be anything wrong. I get the impression that there is not as much active “spaghetti” because he is in a deep sleep.

My above dream probably relates to seeing myself in the form of my son and puzzling about the nature of consciousness and still not becoming lucid in this case. It also correctly shows the nature of my consciousness in sleep (spaghetti becoming sparser in there being less critical thinking on hand).

“‘Eat me…eat me…’ and animated birds” (July 6, 1985) caught me in sleep paralysis which is normally pleasant, though this was not. A box of Kraft macaroni and cheese “dances” and rattles in the air near my head and screams “eat me eat me eat me” as I try to cover my head with my pillow. I have updated this entry with my interpretation, so am linking this particular one in this entry.

“Tornado Encounter” (November 24, 2014) has the tornado turning my old neighborhood in La Crosse into large strands of cooked spaghetti (rather than the expected debris of wood and glass and such). It also replaces the one block of Loomis Street with a bridge (not that elevated), the only time a dream has created this alteration of the setting. There is an additional concept that ties in with the Disney animated movie “Lady and the Tramp”. Even though I had updated “Tornado Encounter” fairly recently, there is still more in the decoding. The scene causes me to think of when the two dogs end up kissing accidentally due to both picking up and sucking in the same strand of spaghetti (a scene I saw numerous times as a child in television commercials). So, in knowing that a tornado is the bottom half of the Merkaba and that spaghetti is related to extensions of mental energies, this dream is showing me that I need to “pick up the strand of spaghetti” and wake up to be with my soulmate (as the “old neighborhood” is gone) so I can kiss her and not wander about in dreams so much other than when becoming lucid and seeking higher states and real knowledge (rather than conjecture). Now that I know what spaghetti lying about anywhere means, I am thus prepared.

“The Legend of Tony Karoni” (June 27, 1976), though not related to a pasta theme, does include the surname “Karoni”, naturally causing me to think of macaroni (as well as “mac” being another word for a man whose name is unknown). There also seems to be some sort of play on the idea of a “spaghetti western” (though in fact, it is supposedly called a “macaroni western” primarily in Japan). “Needle’s cell” in fact, may be a deliberate play on brain cells, this dream being about a month before my surgery on my right thumb and wrist, which is related to much of how I interpreted it at the time.

“As the Worm Turns” (May 17, 2014), which was “dream of the day” on one site on Monday, August 3, 2015, also had implications of macaroni being close to the head (and even inside the brain - taking me back to someone who was making jokes about “brain worms” regarding raisins in muffins at my father’s wake and where I just sat gasping and giggling foolishly at his audacity). In this case, the supposed “killer worms”, in dying, fall out of my hair as seemingly uncooked elbow macaroni (in a very vivid perspective). This also relates to my own conscious energy not being in my dream as I am not lucid. The potential though unacknowledged and uncontrolled “mental energies” are the worms in this case and become macaroni prior to my waking since I had not used the energies for apex lucidity. The likely play on “showing your feathers” in this dream is probably sarcasm from the Source (or a wayward orphaned tulpa) based on the line "stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni”.

Additionally, the “Tornadopillar” dream (April 3, 1982) brings to mind a dream, “The Great 'God’ Worm” (April 4, 1992) where the Merkaba is huge (appearing, in fact, as the total essence of god) and appears as a giant albino glass-like earthworm, “spinning” into my forehead like a tornado force after spending time with my wife-to-be at the top of a truncated staircase (which also seemed to be in a “divine” portmanteau setting including restaurant and observatory).

In conclusion, macaroni and spaghetti represent the energies of the human brain. The link to caterpillars and earthworms is also relevant due to their visual similarities. The difference is that caterpillars “ascend” in becoming butterflies (“lower” mental energies into ascension with soulmate union) and in contrast, the earthworm can be either microcosm or macrocosm (in either digging deep or “digging as high as possible” in the “god-like” Palouse earthworm form - or great white worm, which unfortunately is associated with the devil in some schools of thought).

There. I am glad I got this all sorted out. Thank you for reading.

Morning of May 22, 2015. Friday.



There are a number of (seemingly) random facets to this dream. The first event relates to hearing about a comet on a collision course with Earth (the name of the comet not being known or mentioned) and to strike somewhere in New England (America); either Maine or Vermont. I heard the name of the city as well at one point, but do not recall it - or there could have been a “reset” to explain the Maine and Vermont confusion as I seem to recall both conflicting elements. The unusual detail is that it will supposedly not cause that much widespread destruction even though it is indeed an entire comet that had apparently passed by the Earth before. I am not that concerned as I am on the other side of the planet anyway. However, my (deceased) sister Marilyn is also an in-dream character, and she has never been outside the United States. I do seem to be living amidst some of my present real-life features and circumstances, though the setting is ambiguous.

The next part of my dream seems set in possibly our Stadcor Street home in Brisbane (though it does have a few elements reminiscent of our present house’s kitchen). It involves an unknown family cooking an elephant bird (extinct birds from Madagascar - formally known as Aepyornithidae) as some sort of taste test or trial. It is not fully known of how ordinary citizens in a family got the body of an elephant bird, though there is a mention of someone having cloned one. There are only two smaller cooked pieces on the plate (which resemble distorted parts of normal-sized chicken legs with about half the skin removed - which unrealistically represents a part of the otherwise huge bird), but oddly, my dream “resets” twice - where I eat the two pieces as three different people in a sequence; a black female of about thirty, one of her sons of about thirteen (who I believe cooked the meal), and as myself as I am now. I do not question this strange transition and impossible series of events of the changing in-body perspectives - it is like spiritually “jumping” from body to body for a very short time to experience the essence of how the person is moving and what they are tasting. The female gets annoyed by a single small red ant crawling on the edge of the plate at one point and says loudly to “get that animal out of the house” and it seems to foretell failed cooking endeavors in the future until it is removed. This part is a bit unusual in that the two pieces of meat are “still” on the plate as if they had not already been eaten three times over in the few “resets”.

After this is another somewhat confusing event involving my sister (appearing as she was in about 1980) chiding me (but without that much emotion) relating to having broken a CD case holder, which is somewhat drawer-like (so that it would fit in a larger cabinet in the kitchen). There is a part near the front on one side that is broken off, which is a cylindrical piece of plastic, which makes it difficult to keep the cases uniform. I explain how it had happened due to it being difficult to get the case back in, being slightly wider than what the holder seemed designed for. As I look around, I notice a couple dish racks which look very similar to the CD case holders (and almost the same size - but for smaller plates) and notice that there had been a breakage in the same area along the top runner of the “drawer” in at least two of the racks. I then say how I am not the one who had broken the other items, reflecting that my sister had probably done it, making the act of me having broken the other item seem less eventful and me less deficient. There are about a dozen holders for either CDs or small plates in the kitchen, all on the same side of the room. At this point, I am also still aware of the comet approaching the other side of the planet (but again, supposedly not to be a catastrophe even though I am somewhat wary of the idea).

Finally, I notice that I have an open cut near the middle of my right middle finger, which seems infected. Green jelly is showing, which somehow seems to be coagulated blood. I start to reflect on the idea, as I pull out what seems like an entire “vein” that resembles a green-apple strand of toothpaste but more viscous, that I probably should have gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics before it progressed this far. Still, I am somewhat relieved that I am able to pull out most of this green “vein” (all the way down to my wrist) before it infects more of my body, but as I do, I am aware that it will make my hand somewhat hollow and eventually useless. There is one area above the knuckle that seems more problematic and “lumpy” as a result of the infection and needs to all come out. In fact, as I mention it to my sister, my hand is already weakened and “hollow” near the wrist where it will probably just flop around unable to be used to pick things up. Most of the muscle seems to somehow be gone shortly after my act of pulling out the green “Gummy Worm”, even though it was only the one strand that I pulled out.

Morning of June 19, 1976. Saturday.



I am in the southwest bedroom of the Cubitis house where my father is present. We are in the southeast area of the room, near the doorway. I am facing the south windows as he is sitting on a chair facing me. He has taken a very rare species of (assumed as fictional) phosphorescent earthworm and is holding it by one end, saying that it has the ability to communicate with people. After a few minutes, the worm curls to form actual vertical handwriting with its entire body, first spelling the word “loam”, then the word “vex”. This is all that it does before my dream fades. (I consider that it is a glow worm, as one of the many songs my father sang publicly was called “Glow Worm”, though that is not actually what it is.) I sense that the worm is annoyed by people trying to get messages from it, when it probably wants to sleep.

The earthworm is a real-time dream state symbol. Attempting to read it as it is spelling words is the emergent consciousness factor, as thinking skills for sustained reading are only viable when conscious. As such, it seems that a part of me does not want to get up for the day yet. Additionally, trying to get feasible “messages” from the unconscious is sometimes futile, as it is just that…unconscious. (I suspect that this dream may have also been influenced by the “Sesame Street” short “Mary Sunshine”, though related to counting, with the lyric, “I head eleven worms yawning”.)

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