Blue_Opossum

Morning of December 20, 2016. Tuesday.



I am at our present address on W Street near the west side of our house on the public footpath. It seems to be morning. There had been signs of a light rain. I notice that the Wicked Witch of the East must have been in a storm (though not in our area, at least with any perceived backstory) and blown our way in that the NBN cabinet near our house had fallen upon her (which is not logical, as the NBN cabinet is set upon concrete and shows no signs of having been removed or damaged). I know this is true because her ruby slippers have been sticking out from under the cabinet for probably a day or two. They stick out from the right side of the NBN cabinet.

It may be important to inform people of this. I look more closely and bravely feel the supposed ruby slippers, which are actually more like red fishing boots. They are of a floppy rubbery material. Perhaps the remains are not actually present.

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This dream presents failed flight waking symbolism, one of my most common forms of waking symbolism since early childhood, which is unrelated to waking life, and as such, does not imply any negative connotations. It establishes a form of “return flight” as related to the hypnopompic stage (which is rendered as such in over twenty percent of my dreams or 1 in 5 in tens of thousands), which sometimes induces a falling sensation (which is biological and unrelated to waking life). It is unreasonable to assume real life associations with such precursory symbolism relative to hypnopompia.

In this case, the position of the implied body (though the body itself is not seen or touched) is in a sleeping position, a real-time dream state indicator. Once again, the waking symbolism is oriented on the right.

The detail of the red fishing boots establishes three well-known dream state indicators simultaneously, red as a known presence of waking priority (especially in dreams which become completely red, which means I have been sleeping too long), boots that are not being worn (as one does not wear shoes when in bed), and residual water induction remnant (in being fishing boots or waders).

Additionally, there is the implication of the NBN cabinet representing technology, communication, and intelligence as symbolizing the conscious self over the fictional dream self or the remnants of the ephemeral dream self at the waking point.

Additionally, it is unreasonable in this case to assume the “witch” is related to waking life by specifics, for three main reasons. One, the “witch” herself does not even appear in this dream. Two, the “witch” is a fictional character from the “Wizard of Oz”, and my association validates this entire dream as primarily a real-time dream state indicator. Remember that “The Wizard of Oz” is about someone being knocked unconscious and having a dream. Three, it is fantasy, and fantasy symbolism is based on creativity, not life-relevant symbolism.

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Morning of July 5, 2016. Tuesday.



This dream starts off with quite honestly the worst visual pun I have seen in ages. I am looking into a parking lot and see that something is not quite right. Instead of the cars having a windshield and upper section, it is a thumb in such a manner as the thumbnail implies the car’s windshield. Still, the scene does not really seem that bizarre to me and in fact, eventually triggers otherwise unrelated sequences.

Next, there is a thumb with windshield wipers moving over the thumbnail. This image is greatly magnified though the closeup perspective is not realistic. The windshield wipers have too much mechanical detail and exaggerated distance from each other (relative to one over the other and seeming farther out than it should). Eventually these “windshield wipers” become more like a minute hand and an hour hand reading fifteen minutes to three (or two forty-five). During this time, there are also glimpses of watching the slightly twitching needle of a pressure gauge. Sometimes when going back to the “fingernail wipers” they seem more like black hairs that just fall off the surface.

The perspective of my dream shifts, similar to when one jumps from visual sequences into a more corporeal state. A car has been abandoned at the top of a hill with all of its doors left open. It is raining. The windshield wipers are the minute hand and hour hand of a clock, again suggesting two forty-five or a quarter to three. They move slightly but fall back, and the position remains at about a quarter to three. It seems at first to be some sort of sign relating to mortality. However, it is more likely a circadian rhythms feature as it relates to the nature of time. I begin to walk towards the car and instead become the car which is also a clock.

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Upon seeing the above image, Zsuzsanna caught the play on “thumb drive” instantly, with no other hint.

Morning of August 8, 2015. Saturday.



In my dream, there is a sense of love and joy even though there seems to be a possibility of a storm approaching from the north. My family and I seem to be living on Stadcor Street in Brisbane again. The layout of the house is different and there almost seems to be a loft in the corner near the front door where I am recording, I believe, a half-hour video that relates to some sort of educational session, though I do not fully recall the content. I am only talking smoothly throughout the video. The precision of what I am saying seems to have flowed smoothly thus far for the most part. However, just within the last five minutes of the otherwise perfect video, my (deceased) mother turns on the television in one of the rooms (she has never been to Australia in real life) and the sound is loud enough to be picked up on the video.

I am somewhat annoyed and illogically believe that I will have to start over from the very beginning (instead of implementing an undetectable edit). I do not show any anger, though. However, for some reason, I now seem to have the need for additional equipment and documents to do what I had just already almost completed.

From here, I go to the back door as a heavy rain has just started. There is also a fresh strong wind bringing the rain from the north. When I go out to the backyard briefly, I see a gray area and implied heavy rain over Halcyon Street, yet still do not panic.

I go back inside and notice that, in my computer room, heavy streams of rain are actually now coming through the boards of the ceiling. My first thought is that the equipment I need will probably be too wet to use for awhile, thus my video will be delayed. I am then concerned about all my documents including my dream journals. This is the only room that is leaking thus far. I almost feel a sense of cheerful amusement even though I am not sure if this indicates an apocalyptic event. I am not quite sure if I am dreaming or not. Obviously, closing the windows will not matter at all, as most of the water is coming in through the ceiling. My dream is most vivid at this point, though I start to wake from here. I have had similar dreams (concerning water coming from the ceiling) since I was very young.

Night of May 3, 2015. Sunday.



I move directly into a very vivid lucid dream while still half-awake as I often do after watching or mentally exploring the hypnagogic visionary realms - and eventually am within my dream body with little effort. The first thing I focus on (for a longer period of time) is the silhouette of an old wagon wheel (probably stuck only about one-third or less into the ground), which had been near the “portal” as some sort of “signpost” of sorts (probably a good lucid dream trigger depending on where you live). Other than that, there is mostly only rain visible. I do eventually see human forms (mostly female, some carrying parcels) moving about now and then, but they are not running or ducking from the rain, yet which is so heavy, it is hard to make out any significant details. I feel very good and very peaceful and relaxed even as I contemplate finding my beautiful wife’s feminine form to indulge in sensuality and love-making with in the middle of the “street”, which is actually much like the main set of “Gunsmoke” (the old long-running television series) from what I can tell. Because my physical form is somewhat ambiguous, I can move in different ways from place to place, sometimes in-body, sometimes disembodied (with far more control than I used to have). The imagery seems to go from grayish to subtle lines of gold at times.

There is eventually what I first very briefly perceive as a very light hypnic jerk in my left leg (though it is more like a wave of extreme pleasure evenly moving through it), that takes me out of my dream body (though the imagery is still there as I am conscious again). This feeling is so ecstatic that I actually sigh “wow” fairly loudly and my wife (in real life) asks me what happened. From there, I mostly fall back into wandering the “Gunsmoke” set in very dense rain, which becomes more and more of a darker yet golden infusion.

Morning of January 20, 2015. Tuesday.



Most of my dreams had a positive focus regardless of the “leaky roof” theme in a couple of them. It had been thundering and raining off and on all morning and that put me into a very deeply relaxed “timeless” state. In one dream, I am simply watching the rain come down between the planks of the wooden ceiling, which is leaking profusely. My wife is with me. The only negative aspect was of telling some unknown people (and I am not sure why they are even in our house - oddly I have no typical perspective that they are not supposed to be there) that they do not know how to build houses in this region, especially roofs.

At one point, I am living in an unfamiliar region that is more of a rural area which has hardly any houses. I seem to be spending a lot of time sleeping on the roof of a shed which is probably not mine. It had been raining for a long time yet this actually seems to be a comfortable and nice setup for me. I also, though, get the impression of it being an odd habit (that no one else has) that I have had for at least a year or two. Someone, a male who is possibly the owner of the property, points out to me that the front part of the roof of the shed is lower than the rest of the roof and even has a partial recess in the shape made by me lying on my back on it over time (which of course is preposterous in a cartoon-like sense). I feel only the vaguest sense of being responsible for the roof needing repair at a later date. Oddly, sleeping on the roof in the rain seems to be the “proper” way to live. However, it is something I have not done in real life since age seventeen.

During the morning, I entered an altered state that seemed somewhat new. I have always had a tendency to enter unusual “cocoon-like” states (sometimes pleasant, sometimes frustrating) that seem to last for days (but of course are actually probably only about an hour or so) and they are always different in one way or another. These unique states often seem to have their own “rules” or “systems” that keep repeating over time and with precise contemplation (though which is distorted and only simulating false critical thinking).

In this case, I am feeling the mild thunder in my body as if I was being “made” by the thunder simultaneously, relative to both my physical position and my enhanced sense of peace that is near ecstatic. The “system” seems to have precise rules of timing and subtle change relative to the sparse rain and next thunder event. It seems this state, as well as the mildly rumbling thunder, will continue forever and I will remain forever (a perception which does not bother me at all) in a “field” of awareness created by the infinitely recurring thunder and light off and on rain, and with only occasional very slight movement on my part. This is a bit different than similar states where I “have” to move into a precise physical position every couple of minutes while sleeping (always switching to either left or right sides each time) so as to form a particular shape to hold for a certain amount of time (as if it is some sort of language or form of communication with an unknown entity), also as if it was sometimes some sort of system required by a physical “law”. There is often also a persistent false memory related to the dynamics of an individual “system” of physical positions or supposedly related environment ambiance while sleeping, again, usually different than any prior experience, sometimes involving mentally calculating waveforms or abstract forms.

Morning of May 15, 2014. Thursday.

Dream #: 17,314-04. Reading time: 2 min 45 sec.



I am riding in a landau with Zsuzsanna either late at night or early in the morning before dawn in Rochester, Minnesota. I get the feeling we are enjoying an expensive tour. The unknown coachman is on our left as I sit in the middle. At one point, we are going down 2nd Street SW so that when we turn right, we will go past the Mayo Clinic Baldwin Building. There are many high buildings adjacent to the streets. There is no other traffic or any other people.

What is surreal about this scene is that the small brown horse pulling the carriage is nearly half a city block ahead of us on a very long lead rein. It seems to be like this so that tourists cannot take control or cause the landau to go in a different direction. Even so, the lead rein seems too slack for feasible control of the horse. I wonder what will happen when we get to an intersection and have to turn the corner.

When the horse reaches the intersection and turns right, we have to stop. We have to get out of the carriage to push and align it to the perpendicular street to continue our journey. I consider we will probably have to do this several times before we get to our destination. Zsuzsanna and I decide to walk.

In a room on the second floor of the hotel, I find a television broadcast annoying, but I am unsure how to turn it off. Zsuzsanna is on the bed, and there is an unusual movement over her skin, like a ripple effect (reminiscent of moderate ocean waves).

Later, I am in a library where there are many other people. I am standing in an area near a long table that is mostly to my right. A young male approaches me and pulls something out of my left plaid shirt pocket with his right hand. It is a Mars candy bar wrapper. He throws it on the table while claiming it is against library policy for anyone to carry a card in their pocket. His activity makes no sense to me, and I decide to punch him and knock him to the floor.

My instinctual awareness of being in the dream state increases to full recognition I am dreaming. I leave the library, though it is now part of a larger building. I follow two people out into the hall as I see it is like a college I went to and later worked at in maintenance in La Crosse.

I walk westerly down the hall. I see through the glass doors that sparse raindrops are falling outside. It now seems to be winter. I feel anticipation because I enjoy walking and flying in the rain in dreams, and I know it will vivify my dreaming experience. When I walk outside, the rain is stopping. I walk down the alley, and my awareness seems to fade only slightly.

I am sitting on the ground. I look out from the end of the alley and notice a pair of feminine legs that shine with a golden light. (It is a pale gold but then closer to canary yellow, but at one point, it looks mottled with white or paler yellow). The unknown girl stands near a parked car. She is briefly talking on a payphone but then on her cell phone. She is wearing a short dark blue skirt and black stilettos. For a time, I can only see her from the waist down due to a low tree branch blocking the rest of the scene. I am intrigued.

Otherwise, she seems to be an ordinary woman engaging in everyday activities. When I get up and go closer, I see her walking a bit north from the car, but she stops and looks at me as if expecting me to say something. My dream fades as her glowing skin dims somewhat.

My liminal awareness arises to full recognition of being in transition in my dream relative to the shifting somatosensory dynamics and my physical orientation in bed (a factor more sustained in childhood).

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Morning of August 25, 1967. Friday.



Location (both in real life and in first versions of dream): Rose Street (and surrounding area), La Crosse, Wisconsin, USA - the apartment building that mostly served as a tavern below (a venue where my father sometimes performed) and apartments above, which was struck by lightning and burned to the ground years later, after I returned to Wisconsin.

Real-life Associations: Wendy the Good Little Witch comic book number 45 as shown here, with, I think, a news agency stamp of August 17th, 1967 (“publish date”, which is sometimes several months ahead the release date, listed as December 1967).

Characters: Me, the young version of Alice Liddell (the real “Alice in Wonderland”, 1852-1934) as Wendy the Good Little Witch in “real” human form (recurring - I cannot presently recall a dream-witch who did not have black hair - she also wore a blue outfit rather than red - sorry Harvey fans, blonde witches just never seemed “right” for some reason), and a few random adults. Interestingly my wife had a very similar haircut around that same age, so that is just another intriguing familiarity, I guess.

This was the first occurrence of the “rain shield”. The first version of the rain shield or “bubble” shield was in the Pepto-Bismol pink I have mentioned in other entries. I could have lived without it, I suppose. I have not had pink as a dominating color in my dreams very often since late childhood. Blue has mostly been the most outstanding. At any rate, it was mostly about being “protected” from the rain in several recurring dreams this way, and it eventually became one of my own recurring dream abilities after moving back to Florida. Sometimes, it was a special wristwatch I wore (when it was not just “mind-power” or magic), which of course was a special variation of the 1967 Omega Seamaster, which could also allow the wearer and anyone he held hands with to walk on the ocean floor (which was less common than the walking and flying in the rain dreams, but to be honest, I actually liked walking and flying in the rain in some other dreams).

The shield was mostly egg-shaped and transparent, extending out about three feet from me and whoever I was with. I still had one dream of it now and then at age twelve. These were some of my more vivid and (lucid) self-reflecting dreams, which were eventually “replaced” by the flying in a cloak in the dead of night dreams - which tended to have the same overall amazing mood and feelings of peace and bliss.

Historically speaking, this was the day (25th) that a certain Nazi Party founder was killed at a laundromat in the US. Not knowing any better, I told an older girl (D. Rockwell) I knew at the time how sorry I was that her father was shot at the laundromat. Obviously, this was no close relation, so she looked at me in a very puzzled manner.

Morning of April 2, 1967. Sunday.



When I was much younger in my dream work (around age nine), I had later tried to recall or determine associations with this recurring one as if it might have been based on an obscure real-life memory (even though only a few years had passed at the time since living in Wisconsin), though that does seem somewhat unlikely.

My parents and I visit, a few times, an old married couple on seemingly the west side of the street, possibly Third Street in La Crosse. They live in what seemingly used to be a large clothing store and the one large room is mostly their living area. The storefront door and windows (and now empty window display area) are mostly always blocked from the inside with multicolored velvety curtains. It is still mostly a commercial area of the city, though.

The old couple typically sit at a smaller dining room table, right next to the wall, man facing west and woman facing east, where there is a small bowl in the middle of the table (though sometimes a plant pot) that catches rainwater from a leak (though it does not have to still be raining at the time). The leak is usually only one drop at a time. For some reason, the whole scene and living area does not seem unusual at all. We usually visit them around nine in the morning or earlier.

It seems possible that my dream was built by associations with the “Jack Sprat” poem (possibly the only association I had at the time with an older couple at a table in this manner), the “Don’t Let the Rain Come Down” song (Serendipity Singers 1964 version), and an actual one-time visit to an older couple in the city. Still, this is one of the mysteries from older dream work as it somehow seems more relative to a real memory and place, which for some reason, is more elusive than much clearer memories from this time period. I usually kept my dream work secret (mostly due to believing that published works about dreams were all completely wrong), so did not ask my parents. It could be a composite memory of two places we frequented in reality.

Morning of April 4, 1976. Sunday.



There is some sort of strange weather in Arcadia which I become aware of while I am on the high school grounds. It is apparently a mysterious rain that changes people in ways that make them more menacing and selfish. People on a school bus that passes me as I walk east, even the driver, have a menacing countenance. (Normally in my dreams, rain is a positive event which I enjoy experiencing. This dream, however, is dark and eerie, though not in a directly threatening sense.) I see my best friend Toby T grinning nastily at me through the window (on the left side from the front view) of a school bus as it is ready to drive from an area that buses are never actually ever parked in real life, on the actual school grounds. It is in the area near the covered sidewalks that run north and south. No confrontations occur; just an unusual mood as I wander around, myself remaining unaffected by the “evil rain” and in fact, seemingly the only one in an outdoor setting. (This fact seems contradictory to the idea that the rain is changing people though only in conscious afterthought, as everyone else is out of the rain for the most part, though again, my dream does imply that the rain is somehow responsible) There is a continuous night-like darkness in my dream even during the supposed daytime.

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There is a possiblity that my dream was influenced by the film title “The Devil’s Rain” (from 1975) though I had only seen a few scenes from it by this date.