Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 3, 2017. Monday.



My dream begins with the usual water induction (which at least one lucid or semi-lucid dream of every night since early childhood begins with). A group of about seven unidentifiable female forms (though typically variations of Zsuzsanna) appears reflected in silhouette on the surface of the slowly rising water, but rather than any type of cheerful ritual (including healing affirmations or those of several other types), my dream shifts into where they are eventually on a boat. There is some sort of backstory regarding the journey but it is not clear. I “remember” that they are from the 1920s.

My dream shifts into a (false) waking stage (which includes minor physical anticipation of the falling sensation) though my lucidity becomes more instinctual (and shifts into non-lucid dream control after the next scene) even though my dream remains vivid. The liminal waking expectation fades and I shift back into my dream (without a false awakening - only the continuation of the original ocean theme).

I then see a few men from the 1920s on some sort of unlikely open train in the distance. I seem to be hovering above the ocean in an incorporeal state. The rickety train is carrying livestock and supplies. They are going up a very steep railway bridge but which is actually a rollercoaster rising up from the ocean. The top is incredibly steep, but the train somehow makes it over the peak safely and begins to slowly go down the other side. (I do not recognize that it is a rollercoaster and continue to associate it as a railway bridge.) This event is metaphorical for the false waking expectation - that is, going up a slope but then going over the other side with no mishap, fall, or collapse. As a result, I focus on the boat of girls again (of whom I now associate with relatives or ancestors), but soon realize that their boat is not present. I notice a number of other boats. I wonder if they have become lost (which of course is analogous of losing my lucidity).

I am then on a couch in a very distorted version of the Loomis Street house. For example, a bathroom replaces the small northeast bedroom and the couch is near the center of the living room facing south. The large television is against the south wall (though in reality it was always out from the east wall with the couch’s back against the south wall). Zsuzsanna is on my left as well as our two youngest children on her left. Very curiously, my brother Leonard (half-brother on my father’s side), of whom I have rarely dreamt of in my lifetime, is on my right. There is a very unusual loud squawking noise. It turns out to be a brownish pterodactyl crawling on a cliff made up of clusters of smooth boulders (though which looks more like boulders near the ocean shore). I am trying to work out if I am seeing this on the television or if we are somehow looking through a hole in the wall into the past. I contemplate whether or not the pterodactyl will fall off the cliff, as it is getting closer and closer to the edge. Something within my mind makes me realize that this is a waking prompt symbol (just as with the rollercoaster railway bridge in the previous scene) and my dream shifts without me being lucid for the second time (though this is likely because there is an ocean association, which can cause reinduction).

Soon, there is a scene of Egyptian “gladiators”. I think it odd that a sticker book Zsuzsanna and our children are looking at has images that exactly match the design of what the “gladiators” are wearing on the television. Leonard points out the advertising on the armor that a few of the Egyptians are wearing. I do not consider how ludicrous it is that ancient warriors would have modern commercial symbols and English writing on their armor. One of the symbols is the McDonald’s logo engraved on the armor just above the warrior’s waist. This is curious as it is made up of two upward and downward slopes so could be seen as a waking precursor symbol just as the earlier rollercoaster railway bridge of the similar shape. The phrase “phone home” is also engraved lower down on the armor. (This is hilarious as it symbolizes communication between dream self and subliminal threads of conscious self identity, yet once again, I do not catch the dream dynamic).

My dream then shifts into vivid liminal space. I find myself walking out onto the porch (most common liminal space setting and often the last setting in a dream due to its nature). A group of unfamiliar people wearing fancy clothes from the 1920s are seated in at least three locations. Still, one male closest to the open living room door (on the right of it) seems to be dressed more as if from the late 1700s. I decide to ask what year it is. The unfamiliar male near the doorway starts reciting curious (but unremembered) poetry, with something like “three years beyond 1921”, soon informing me clearly that it is 1924. Looking out at the street (through the porch windows), I notice a number of cars from the 1920s, yet I do not see the car that the girls are supposed to be arriving in.

The other male gets up and needs to use the bathroom. He seems very cheerful and friendly. Because the porch is a “different space” apart from the main dream setting, he seems very much in awe when going into the living room and to the bathroom door since that part of the house is “my time” (as in contrast to this dream’s personified emergent consciousness), though I remain on the porch, watching him through the doorway. However, the bathroom door is locked from the outside and he does not know how to use a knob lock. He returns to the porch, still in awe yet seeming very happy. I tell him that I am from 2016 (not remembering it is actually 2017). I tell him that I will unlock the bathroom door for him. Instead, he starts touching my face, hands, shoulders, wrists, and arms, pressing his fingers against me as if he thinks I am not quite human, me “being from the future”. I tell him (at least twice) that I am a “hologram”. (This is technically correct. The personified subconscious, always the dream self in first person when not lucid, as it certainly is not the conscious self identity, is technically a type of hologram, especially as the dream self certainly does not have a real physical body either.)

He continues to push his fingers against my face and begins to smell me, while remaining very cheerful. The sense of touch is extremely enhanced and “accelerated” here. Coalescence (dream self unity of all other dream characters - where all the dream characters quickly merge into the dreamer like blobs of pale light into a swimming pool) soon occurs and of course it is me who has to actually wake up to use the bathroom.

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Understanding dreams and dream dynamics:

• Water remains my most common form of induction (and real-time symbol for sleep) and this is apparently true for the whole of society, as the majority of commercial relaxation, meditation, and self-hypnosis tapes have included the sound of the ocean, a river, or a waterfall.
• The metaphorical waking precursors (especially the rollercoaster railway bridge where I actually felt a slight physical shift into liminal space even though I was nowhere near it) not completing and instead bringing me back into the dream state is not that common (especially when I have to wake to use the bathroom). Instead, it took my personified emergent consciousness to bring me out directly (though still oddly sustained). (I assume he was not my personified preconscious even considering the porch setting as he was not aggressive or confrontational in any way and there was no additional shift other than last-stage coalescence.)
• I presently associate my brother Leonard with fake news (which he is continuously posting on Facebook). This is likely to be a dream sign here, “fake news” being analogous to being in a (non-lucid or subliminally lucid) dream. Also, he is on my right, and the emergent consciousness precursor often has its event horizon on the right. (This is developed out of reading from left to right and a number line being oriented left to right, not on the disproved concept of left-brain and right-brain.)
• The seeming contradiction of the waking precursors not completing is likely biological and based on circadian rhythms. Even with a need to use the bathroom, the body still requires a certain amount of rest. (It is also possible that the anticipatory muscle states being mixed, that is - both whole body and bladder pressure - were responsible for the atypical dynamics and truncated symbolism.)
• This dream utilizes an altered setting based solely on dream state and waking dynamics, where the emergent consciousness goes towards the bathroom, which replaces the real bedroom. This is directly symbolic of me needing to leave my bed and go to the bathroom. The door is locked, so I still need to physically wake to use it (though often dreams render peculiar bathrooms or annoying situations as a trigger to deliberately bring the dreamer out of sleep).

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Morning of November 10, 2016. Thursday.



I am in a van being driven by my brother-in-law Bob. Most of my family members are with me in the back except for Lorenzo (middle son). Looking to my left, I see that an unfamiliar female passenger in another vehicle (probably a van as a car would be lower) somehow holds onto the top of the driver’s side window of Bob’s van, which I think is a very foolish thing to do. (This seems to be a preconscious factor, at least potentially, but the situation eventually fades.) The vehicle has four chubby and aggressive females, probably in their late thirties. My brother-in-law does not respond. I eventually yell at them. They soon drive on ahead.

We eventually arrive at an unfamiliar shopping mall near a mountainous area. It now suddenly shifts to nighttime, around eight o'clock. I suddenly feel concerned that Lorenzo is not with us, as I feel he should not be left alone (at our house) for the two or so hours we will probably be here (seemingly for shopping and a movie). I decide to quickly fly back to make sure he is okay, though on one level, I feel silly about flying all the way back after just arriving here, as it apparently took a long time for Bob to drive out here. However, because a parking lot symbolizes liminal space (a higher state between dreaming and waking), I somehow get “stuck” right on the perimeter. I am flying but not making much forward progress (a very rare event for me, but I have rarely attempted flight over a parking lot in dreams). I almost manage to fly above the roof of a nearby house. Instead, I decide to teleport to my bed (false awakening) and I am glad I am now able to check on Lorenzo.

Almost immediately, I am with Lorenzo and the rest of our family in the front yard in Cubitis. It now seems early afternoon. It seems there are several people trespassing, close to the bedroom windows. I get angry but my family and I end up leaving, walking southward (with no destination in mind). I shout several rude remarks back at them as well as making rude gestures. They do not seem intimidated. Curiously, they are mostly all seated on the ground in formal meditation positions, including an unknown toddler (male). I get the impression that the oldest male (about sixty), who is thin and wearing coveralls, had been working on a car, but I do not see a car anywhere.

Soon, I am walking with Zsuzsanna and an unknown female with dark short hair. As we walk along, there is mention of the van event that occurred in the first part of my dream (as this female apparently had trouble with the four from the vehicle as well). I eventually enter a very subtle lucidity, but not active lucidity. This is where I am not lucid but manifest, mostly through pretense at first, the idea of a secret area to explore (commonly recurring since early childhood).

Even though it is mostly an outside area, we come to floor-length curtains (subtle lucidity sign, akin to going onto a stage). Going through the beige curtains, we enter some sort of secret abandoned park with a zoo theme. I am at first somewhat startled by a male and female lion (just to my left and past a doorway we come out from), and I am concerned for a short time that they may jump over the fence. However I soon realize that they are animatronic animals that have not been maintained for a long time as some of the sections of fur are missing and metal and plastic can be seen through certain areas. We continue along a beautiful garden path. The sidewalk, always with a continuous hedge on each side, turns at ninety degree offsets fairly often, but is not really maze-like. Although I am aware of several other animatronic animals, I do not see them due to dense shrubbery. I feel very happy and relaxed.

We somehow end up in a kitchen, which is a little like the one on Stadcor Street. I am, for a short time, aware of a group of people walking by outside the large windows, but I do not actually see them through the curtains. I only hear them and they seem cheerful. There are soon unusual implications in the immediate setting. I see the year 2002 on a small calendar magnet on the refrigerator as well as seeing it on a couple documents. Zsuzsanna and the other female do not seem to “realize” the implications. To me, based on seeing “2002”, it seems like we are in the present. I feel that there is a pretense that the park had been closed for many years even though the date (false assumption) reflects the present (and even though by dream implications we are fourteen years in the past). Still, I feel a sense of harmony and peace.

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Being in the kitchen in the last scene represents light hunger during sleep. A lion is often the coalescence factor (return to consciousness) as it can swallow the imaginary dream self (and is an association with “The Sleeping Gypsy” 1897 oil painting). The curtains were the same color as the lions, so this was a type of subliminal expectation, though the lions turned out to be mechanical (and not any sort of threat) in this case. My puzzling over the date and not knowing the present year is quite common in my dreams. The personified subconscious (dream self) has no concept or understanding of time in the majority of my non-lucid dreams. For example, I am often much younger or in a different or mixed up time period that combines different time periods. I do not like conflicts or conflict-related challenges in dreams, though the preconscious biologically needs to be aggressive to push the dreamer to activate waking (via RAS) even though coalescence consent (such as hugging a dream character as also has recurred since childhood) would be much better, though the personified subconscious (dream self) typically sees the preconscious state as a threat (especially when there is a subliminal desire to sleep longer), both with negative daybreak types (or end of the world events) and various forms that chase the dreamer, rather than allowing time to indulge in sustained dream exploration as here.

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Morning of July 4, 2016. Monday.



At first, I am wandering about in what I first think is a business building though there are not that many people around. There had been a slight focus on catching a bus (from the La Crosse post office area - even though I now live in Australia), but my attention shifts. I see an unknown male walking towards me in the dimly lit hall. I notice in one large office I glance into that Terry O'Quinn is standing in semidarkness near a desk as if ready to go home. I say “Hello Anthony” and wave and he seems slightly startled and annoyed by my presence and simply responds with “Huh?” I keep walking thinking that I should have called him Mister Quinn. I do not catch that I had called him by the wrong name (and although he has a brother named Thomas Anthony Quinn, I got the name mixed up with the other Anthony Quinn, the Mexican-born American actor who died in 2001).

I am now a young female flying in a loose-fitting superhero costume. My very large cape has narrow vertical red and white stripes (which is an obvious association with the American flag and its waving though I do not perceive this as such while in my dream, although a cape itself is a dream sign that represents being under a bedsheet or blanket). I feel good as I fly through an area between tall buildings. A young male approaches me from the opposite direction and he is wearing the same costume as I am. We end up on the ground where there are several other people, which seems somewhat of a family reunion in a metropolitan park. After a time, he seems in awe that I am flying without aid. It turns out that he had been held up by wires (I assume, linked to all the buildings). I can see a number of wires that are attached to him from different directions (which is an obvious play on the dream self as being a “marionette” of the unconscious state in non-lucid dreams), almost as complex as a spiderweb. Eventually, he seems angry that I can really fly and he cannot. Suddenly, I am a different character, myself as I am now. I am now apparently the father of the previous female character who is still with us. I tell him that I had flown all my life and he seems surprised and annoyed. I tell him that I had flown a lot in Wisconsin when it was too cold for others to be out, though it also seems that my family is the only one with members who can fly. Eventually, my female character is now me again, but later becomes a male flying character (though not the other male who “flew” with wires).

In the next scene, I am going to Terry O'Quinn’s house (its location of which I somehow know though none of this dream’s settings are familiar in any way) to, I think, as a courier, get some documents relative to a business venture. It still seems to be in the afternoon. A group of about ten or more males are standing in a sparse arrangement (somewhat equidistant) in his front yard. They seem to not like my special abilities, including my flying ability, and start to approach me aggressively. I blow lightly in their direction as I am going onto the porch and somehow they are all knocked down by an invisible force and do not get up.

I look into Terry’s bedroom (obvious dream sign; the dream self reflecting on the conscious self still being in bed), and see that he had been sleeping, and as such, he again makes a sort of frustrated “Huh?” sound. Deciding not to annoy him any further, I walk back out onto the porch, which is now perpendicular to where it had just been seconds before (that is, rotated ninety degrees to the right - and this is a long-recurring sudden illogical setting change) and facing the street instead of the large yard at the side of the house. Soon, a male in a business suit comes out to talk to me. I try to discern if this is Terry, though I ask him if he is Tony, but it is someone else. He is a younger male (perhaps about twenty) wearing horn-rimmed glasses. He is talking to me about Terry and his tax forms (relative to business) but I do not quite understand the last sentence. He says something with a very strange playful tone (though as if also being sarcastic towards me) that sounds like gibberish. I ask him to repeat what he had said and he repeats it more loudly than before. I still cannot make out what it is as it sounds more like just a fast “nyah nyah nyah” noise. I tell him in a playful though assertive manner, almost as if talking to a child, “I can’t understand you and I don’t think I ever will” and then begin to hear lightly dramatic music playing in the background as if my dream has an overhead “soundtrack”. He just sits on the wall of the porch grinning sheepishly.

As I am walking down the street, other people are looking at the sky and something seems wrong with the sun. It is supposed to be afternoon but is slightly darker than it should be. After a short time, the sun appears as a goldfish drawing etched into the sky in bright orange strips of fire (which almost seems natural and normal). A circle of fire is around it. However, this fire seems to hit an invisible spherical barrier a short distance out from the sun. “There is a barrier around the sun,” several people begin to note and say as a small crowd gathers around near one intersection. Everyone seems concerned. I am not that concerned considering that if this were real, it would be the end of the world.

Time passes, and eventually there are images in the sky of witches in a circle, from about the waist up, holding their hands out vertically and trying to match the fire shooting out of the now crystal ball sun by sending their own fire (from the palms of their hands) back into the “sun”, which seems to “explain”. the supposed barrier There is a loud sizzling sound that also seems to have elements of hissing, breathing, and snoring.

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What a long bizarre and surreal mixed-up dream. What is unusual is the goldfish, as a fish is typically an induction symbol (which directly represents the dreamer in the dream state), though here is the waking precursor and light-of-day symbol (dawning consciousness as sunrise and circadian rhythms metaphor). I guess this is because gold represents conscious activity in the dream state, so the goldfish oddly serves as this dream’s flight symbol (that is, the main consciousness displacement representation that occurs in the majority of my dreams). Fire represents emerging conscious awareness within the dream state and as such, sometimes causes the dream’s dissolution (unless lucid).

Morning of March 4, 2016. Friday.

Dream #: 17,973-02. Reading Time: 2 min 33 sec.



This dream is long and about flying, with the theme a comic-book-like adventure with meetings with supervillains. In the beginning, I am the only mutant in the world. After a lengthy meandering segment with me flying around using the term “human” somewhat disparagingly, with increasing emotion, I begin to understand that there are others like me, though this is mostly a farce at first.

I find it amusing that people, mostly in their twenties, are joining a group of supervillains even though they are thus far not only not mutants but have no special abilities. None of them can fly as I can. Still, they seem happy when I meet them.

A young man who is short and oddly dressed cheerfully shakes hands with me and claims he is Mole Man (a Marvel Comics villain). I am his inspiration. Other people will soon follow him but symbolically remain under my command. I acknowledge him out of mock respect (with subliminal dream state awareness) though I do not patronize him, as he is taking it seriously even though, again, he is not a mutant. The situation is inviting and interesting.

Later, I see a young male who is having trouble walking because of a physical impairment of one leg being longer than the other. People are making fun of him. He eventually seems to be spitting small balls of fire a distance from the sidewalk into a little cylindrical rubbish bin behind a business building. Although most of the other supervillains I meet have already chosen their name, I call him “Pyro,” which relates to fire as well as the Marvel character. He asks me, “What about Pyro-Gomdulla?” Curiously, I recall a dream from 1971 and the Gomdulla character (from a comic book), yet do not fully realize I am dreaming. I consider he could become a giant mummy with telekinetic abilities (as in the comic book story) if he chooses that name, so I tell him that Gomdulla is an unsuitable phrase in a different language. He decides to keep “Pyro.”

I eventually fly around with a younger version of Zsuzsanna, carrying her on my left side. (She sleeps on my left in reality.) I start to think others are developing the ability to fly, but this proves to be incorrect. I meet an unknown girl with no pupils or irises. She seems to be like the Scarlet Witch in abilities though with Storm’s overall appearance.

Eventually, it starts to dawn on me that, because supervillains exist, a superhero or two could come into the picture and prove to be problematic (though this thought does not concern me). I assume much of that would be pretense as well. However, there are eventually additional “real” mutants who have unique powers and can fly. I also meet up with Captain Marvel, portrayed as an otherwise normal male in an elaborate white and purplish-blue costume that features various symbols. He cannot seem to fly and is not exceptionally strong. I throw him around, his cape sometimes going over his head, making it difficult for him to see or fight, and I am asking him why he does not fly. Presently, there are two superheroes on Earth, Captain Marvel and one I do not recall, who mostly sit in restaurants and converse in costume.

From here, the differences between heroes and villains seem superficial, as I remain only subliminally (not actively) aware of being in the dream state.

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The presence of Mole Man relates to subliminally perceiving being asleep as “being underground” while, in contrast, Pyro represents the potential for consciousness reinitiation (waking from the dream state). The “living mummy” reference (Gomdulla) relates to being asleep as well (covered by a blanket). The girl villainess with no pupil or iris mostly signifies that my real eyes cannot see while I am asleep.

Morning of January 31, 2016. Sunday.

Dream #: 17,940-03. Reading time: 1 min 10 sec. Readability score: 70.



This dream branched off into today’s volcano and “circling the globe” dream (without any apparent waking transition or consciousness shift other than the second dream situation becoming more vivid over time).

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My wife Zsuzsanna, our children, and I are going to a public Halloween celebration. My dream self does not perceive the presumed October date as incorrect.

I will be wearing a hooded cloak, though I perceive it as light-colored at one point rather than black (of which seems more suitable to my implied character as the Grim Reaper). There is minor difficulty getting it to fit.

My only other costume feature is a silver skull ring which goes on the middle finger of my left hand. The skull is upright when viewed by others when my arm is naturally at my side. There is a slide switch in the back of it that makes its eye sockets shine with brilliant light, so bright that it would light up the street. I see the two beams, but they are not overwhelmingly bright.

As with many of my dreams, I take to the air in flight without thinking much about it. I notice an unknown young girl also flying to the party, ahead of me by about half a block. In these types of dreams, I decide to fly while considering it a completely natural event.

My dream changes into the type where I need to push through barriers at times due to the unusual maze-like layout of various unfamiliar buildings. At one point, there is a very thick window on a high floor of a commercial building. I attempt to push through it and eventually succeed. I walk or fly through walls, with slight difficulty at times. Mostly, I fly around enjoying the view.

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Morning of January 3, 2016. Sunday.



I am flying throughout my dream (with no backstory in mind) yet I do not recognize that I am dreaming at any point, which is curious.

Mostly, my actions are illogical since I probably could just fly off to my right at any time, to find another location or region to land in, but I do not want to land in any area directly below me yet (or off to the left where there seem to be more forests being cut down), where my attention is mostly held. I do not want to land because the area is a very large lumber camp, which seems to go in a continuous arc, though it is not clear what is off to my right from this arc - probably the ocean or possibly an undefined and unrendered area where I cannot “really” go or an implied barrier (divided by liminal space, though I am not lucid enough to consider this possibility as dream-based) which I cannot go past.

It seems that the lumber camp is very active in most sections and for whatever reason, I sense the workers are very hostile to intruders of any kind, including wayward flying people. After all, they are destroying the landscape, so probably would destroy anything (including people) in their path (as I do not reason they are doing it to provide for people as they likely may be). In one way, it seems like a miniature landscape (of about one-quarter scale), but this seems a possible distortion of my perspective. I do not fly close enough to the ground at any point to see that much.

There is another distortion, something almost abstract but related to having to write something in a journal or notepad (while flying?) while just outside the perimeter of this range though which causes additional frustration. My flight path is continuously aligned to the semicircular lumber camp, which seems to go on like this for a considerable distance. This of course makes no sense, as if such was the case, I would be flying in a circle yet I seem to be going in only one direction in my dream and the land features below are consistently different as well.

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There may be some sort of association with circumventing and circumference, as this was one of those dreams that seemed to “self-title” itself after waking, something I have experienced fairly often since around the age of eight.

Morning of December 3, 2015. Thursday.



This dream is of a fairly common focus where I can hover and float about vertically (as if standing though completely relaxed physically). This is sometimes a secondary awareness to other dream events (such as ones with some semblance of plot or circumstance, surreal or mundane, including shopping or just previously walking around). Interestingly, over time, it becomes known that hovering or flying is not legal (though I am not lucid at any point). I get a feeling that I am possibly in the UK (though this is not certain).

Throughout my dream, I mostly fly vertically (upright), about a foot above the ground, though sometimes lean forward to fly in a diagonal position for shorter periods. Some people seem appreciative of me doing this even though it is not lawful. They find satisfaction in my “rebelliousness” of oppressive authority I suppose. I evade the authorities several times by flying (as they are not allowed to fly even if they have the ability, apparently). It seems odd to me that flying is illegal but then I sense that it probably relates to the prevention of getting in the way of aircraft and drones and such. In fact, I get the impression (though this is not certain) that flying may be legal in some areas if it is authorized and supervised by the government, though that does not seem a common situation.

I am shot at, but either they always miss or I am somehow bulletproof. At one point, near an odd composite of my past middle school and a shopping mall, I am shot at and a grenade is also thrown at me. I throw it back and watch the colorful “realistic” explosion near the outer wall of the building. Eventually, I join a couple, a young male and female. The male is apparently not fully human; possibly some sort of animal (such as a lemur) and human hybrid, though he looks mostly human. The girl sings to him at one point. They are like me in that they evade authority and “do what comes naturally”.

From here, I mostly just play around, not causing any fatalities even though I cause explosions and do not like being pursued (though the pursuit has mostly stopped by this point). I watch a “large” silver bus, which seems to be a Greyhound from the 1950s. It moves through an underpass though oddly (based on my full-body presence and perspective) seems only half the size of a real one (though is still fully three-dimensional and with “realistic” movement and momentum otherwise). This is actually typical of my dreams since childhood, where vehicles often seem miniature even though it is otherwise perceived as “normal” (and without me presumed as being a giant). I throw some grenades, which are somewhat like (toy) jacks and are supposedly harmless even though they cause a lot of noise and fire. The bus squeaks to a stop. I am aware that no one is injured but they are probably baffled.

After this, a similar bus approaches, though this one is about three-quarters the size of a real one. I throw more “grenades”, which make more popping noises and fire, but not as large in contrast to the other smaller bus. The three-quarter-sized people do not seem as much in awe as the other (half-sized people) group. (Jacks as small grenades is somewhat of an unusual idea.)

Morning of November 6, 2015. Friday.

Dream #: 17,854-02. Reading time: 52 sec.



I am walking with Zsuzsanna and our three youngest children. Our middle son is younger in my dream. We walk east on the south side of a street in an unknown area near a field that is implied to be in Northside La Crosse, several blocks west of Loomis Street. Zsuzsanna is pushing our youngest daughter in a baby pram. Our two youngest sons are in pedal cars. We eventually arrive at an intersection.

Our sons ride down the sidewalk ramp into the street, potentially into oncoming traffic, though the cars are moving slowly and have not reached the intersection. I pull them back and advise them not to cross on their own. Eventually, we all rise into the air and slowly fly over the perpendicular street of the intersection, our sons still in their pedal cars.

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In this dream, I use emerging semi-lucid vestibular system correlation to rise into the air to go above the perpendicular street of the intersection to avoid its oncoming traffic. Zsuzsanna and our three youngest children, ahead of me, also cross in this way (under my liminal intent), our sons in pedal cars, our daughter in a baby pram that Zsuzsanna is pushing. I have often used vestibular system correlation to deliberately initiate the waking process and rise out of my dream.

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Morning of October 25, 2015. Sunday.



I am looking down into the throat of an extinct volcano. This will be fun to jump into in my lucid awareness. I cannot see that far down, but do not expect to be harmed in any way. (It is fairly common for me to deliberately jump from a higher place to then soar about in my dreams. It is often very exhilarating, especially when there is such realistic momentum.)

I jump, falling stomach down, arms out, though now see a giant spiderweb across the whole cylindrical area below. My dream goes into an odd state where I am somehow vaguely aware of my real physical body. I am not interested in any giant spider shenanigans.

After a short time, the giant spiderweb I land on, on my stomach, turns out to be a thin sheet of glass that is somehow stopping my fall. It is full of spider-web-like cracks. There is a jagged hole where my legs are dangling down just a bit. I then consider that it may actually be ice, not glass. Eventually, I get a subtle impression that it is cellophane, but that would seem unlikely regarding the fact I remain suspended on whatever I am on for a time.

The scene shifts to where I am crawling through a horizontal cylindrical tunnel that is getting smaller and smaller. Some sort of “living rock salt” feature (as perhaps of an actual surreal “throat” of a larger creature) around the whole tunnel may digest me at one point. Obviously I do not want this. I emerge near the top of a high hill but am “stuck” inside the outer area of the tunnel to just below my chest. Perhaps I will just remain here staring out over a small isolated town for however many years or centuries. I do not feel in danger, just mildly annoyed that I cannot move. I will not call for help; just wait until I am fully “back” in my real body. I rest my chin in my hand, trying to hold back my aggravation and very minor embarrassment (though no other person had been around at any point).

Morning of September 9, 2015. Wednesday.



In the first part of my dream, which does not flow directly into the next scenes, I am on stage playing a flute for a seemingly long time; a very long version of “For My Lady” (from Seventh Sojourn from 1972, which I had on cassette for a number of years) and I seem to actually be performing with The Moody Blues. From here, I eventually fly from the stage into an (at first) unknown region.

I decide to walk for awhile. Eventually, I seem to be in an undesirable part of town. For some reason, an unknown male approaches me. I first think that his intent is to rob me, so I say how I know (I think) someone named Tony, who apparently leads a group of gangsters. I had never met this person, but the other male walks back to his apartment building, taking me along in a friendly manner.

When we reach the building and the small room which is somewhat kitchen-like, there is a young gangster in a T-shirt who is smoking and who is apparently the leader. He is seated on a small wooden chair. A burly male stands by another door. Oddly, the leader seems to acknowledge me as “David”, which the other male calls me as if that is my actual name (though I can tell he does not remember me - though also can sense he accepts me as someone he knew years ago). I get a vague impression that David was the human name of the Incredible Hulk, but it is not pertinent to any aspect of my dream. I really do not want to hang around these people so I make the excuse that I will leave and do a “hit” for them, as the leader seems to be broke and the idea of a “hit” is supposedly to get money (rather than just kill someone) and not necessarily kill the person you are robbing.

I leave and eventually reach the front of the building. Unexpectedly, the “staircase” is made of old pieces of railroad ties that were split in half and are arranged downward like a diagonal crooked ladder rather than steps. I have to climb down, which is somewhat annoying, trying on both my stomach and in crab position. Two very happy young Jamaican boys (probably only about three years old) are also playing on the diagonal ladder on my left and climbing down. I have a bit of concern for them, as the structure eventually goes down into seemingly deep water. An immensely overweight Jamaican woman is on my right and has to climb over me to get to her children but it is not that problematic and there is no drama. Humorously, now is the time I pick to fly up and away, rather than having done it from the top of the problematic faux staircase.

From here, I fly north down Tenth Street, past the King Street boarding house on the corner and to my left, flying about five feet from the ground. Someone shouts as if annoyed, so I fly much higher, but then fly back down to about ten feet from the street. Eventually, I think about visiting relatives, but soon realize that most of my relatives in this region have died. I fly past an unfamiliar bakery (which is on my right) where there is a red-haired girl visible through the large front windows and seemingly taking something out of a large oven, possibly muffins or cookies. I wave absentmindedly and she waves back but does not seem that friendly. I somehow think it is Anita (who never had red hair) but then I realize it is my wife’s younger half-sister Leila, who we have not seen in years (and she has never been to America as far as I know). I continue to fly on and upward and then decide that I should fly back home so I can “finally” wake up (even though I had not been actively lucid at any point). I am glad to wake up and be “back” with my wife and family.

Morning of August 26, 2015. Wednesday.



Dreaming of walking on the surface of the ocean (or in some cases a lake or river), in both lucid and non-lucid dream segments, was more common when I was much younger.

In the first part of this dream, my family and I (as we are now) seem to be living in a large apartment building. It seems to be a very old building which has not been maintained by the owner and is seemingly in a larger city (possibly in America though this is not certain). There are a few other tenants but not any I recognize to any extent, other than getting an impression that Leonard S lives there, perhaps across the hall. I eventually falsely “remember” that we are also renting a small house somewhere in a less urban area (reason unknown - it may relate to either place being randomly problematic at certain times). There is a vague concern about having enough money to keep renting both places (in real life we have only done that in the process of moving and perhaps that is implied in my dream, though the back story is vague).

I am walking through the long hallway at one point and keep noticing, here and there, old hair ties of various darker and lighter colors; some thicker, some thinner and in various stages of wear; that had been dropped. (My hair is presently short so I do not use them for a ponytail, though my hair has usually been very long throughout my life.) The hallway also has a lot of dust and looks like it has not been swept for a long time. I decide to pick up some of the hair ties and also think about sweeping the area as there are also small bits of paper and other debris. When I am in the apartment though, I hear someone else sweeping and get the impression of an older lady starting to maintain some of her building for the first time in years for whatever reason. I also get the impression of dust somehow coming through the mopboard (skirting) area into our apartment though this does not concern me, especially as I vaguely realize that it would not be possible (ironic since I am flying after this).

Later on, I start flying around over various buildings with no particular destination in mind at first. Eventually, I come to the ocean. A huge creature that looks like an orca whale though much bigger emerges vertically from the water and remains upright and mostly unmoving (and is no threat). It does not seem to have any eyes or other features, only the smooth cylindrical body (slightly too long for a real whale). I cannot decide what it is. I still fly around in the area. I eventually walk around on the water near a large dock that borders a building. (I get a vague idea that I created the “unfinished” creature as well as bringing up small islands in the distance beyond, but these vague impressions are not reconciled, including with a subtle secondary unseen presence I am not sure about though I seem to be communicating with “her” somehow as I am flying around - though “she” seems to be everywhere and much larger than me somehow.)

In the last segment of my dream, I remember that many of my relatives have died, including Carol and Marilyn. However, I find myself with an unopened thick small plain envelope that was apparently sent to us by Marilyn just prior to her death. It dawns on me that (due to its atypical thickness for an otherwise ordinary letter) it may contain money, though that is not what I notice when I open it. I take out a large Japanese fan (that is then too large to have fit in the envelope though I do not consider this distortion) that is mostly white. At one point I get an impression that I can talk to her but only because time is quite distorted (and I am not sure where I am in time). It seems extraordinarily odd that people can cease to exist. It does not seem to make any sense of how this is possible, though vaguely, I am also aware of time being in “layers” where people still exist in certain layers and scenarios and I am trying to remember what “time layer” I am in and whether or not I can talk to or visit certain people.

Morning of August 14, 2015. Friday.



My dream starts in an unknown building which seems to be a two-storey halfway house for both troubled and homeless youths and adult recovering alcoholics. Richard B (have not seen him in over twenty years) is leaning out a window on the second floor and hammering nails into the outside of that window frame for weatherization and is being filmed for some sort of instructional video. (I am not sure why he is doing it from the inside rather than having a ladder set up on the outside; it would be more feasible, and in fact, to complete the job would be impossible from the inside.) I clean up a room fairly quickly and there is also some painting of at least one room going on.

At one point, I am lying on a mattress in a large room. I get the impression that my mother (deceased) has kept me awake all night from moving potted plants around and doing other things (such as preparing business letters), which is problematic, as I am too tired to get up and go to some sort of school event or other scheduled meeting (though I am aware it is near the last day of school). However, I am also aware that my going to this event is not necessary or I may be wrong with what I am thinking as I may not have to go after all.

Later, I seem to be about twenty years old or younger and am in a room where the house mother (a male that seems to be my foreman from my old Ford Taurus manufacturing job) is writing on a chalkboard. (A “house mother” is typically a strong stocky male that oversees a halfway house.) He has written on the chalkboard (in cursive handwriting) a message concerning about seven or eight new tenants. I read the writing and note that it starts with “Let us all welcome the new tenants, two of whom are from the Karaoke and Lansing tribes” and this is followed by about seven or eight surnames including mine being about the fourth one. I do not sharpen my focus to read all of it, so it is probably not relevant to remote viewing (although the term “Karaoke tribe” actually does exist, oddly enough - which is apparently a group of people who go around singing in various venues and based in La Mirada, California, which I had not known of previously).

Later, I am in the same room, but only one other tenant is present other than the house mother. I say fairly loudly and clearly, “I am going to test if this is a dream.” The two others do not seem to mind. I focus and, while standing, lift both my knees up and hover in the air, rising to the ceiling in eventually a standing position. “Well, it looks like this is a dream,” I say casually, and the two others nod, smile, and agree.

From here, we all fly out from the building through a window on the second floor. However, I fly too close to the building and bang the right side of my head on the eaves. It does not hurt that much, but I feel a strange vibration, like my head is a bell and has just been rung. I note that the others have flown off elsewhere.

When I fly around, I am astounded by the beauty and clear detail of the fictional setting. I then start to think, well, it is time for an outdoor romantic interlude. I fly down near an area where I notice a younger version of my wife in a turquoise bikini, though there are two young males around that may be her younger brothers, though they do not seem familiar otherwise (in other words, not resembling any of her real brothers). An older chubby lady keeps coming out of the house and going back in (and Zsuzsanna does a couple times as well). I am not sure why my wife is seemingly living here at the time. The lady reminds me of a young version of Clara Peller (from the “where’s the beef?” commercials). Eventually, I take my wife behind a shoulder-high hedge that runs parallel to the house’s property line on the right side of it, but annoyingly, the other three people keep coming out and randomly walking around the hedge. I try to shoo them away, but eventually give up and just do what I had intended. Briefly, my wife seems to transform into a part of the hedge and back again which seems a bit strange, but I do not focus on it, and I fly off again shortly after fulfillment (which is quite visual).

From here, I explore another building with amazing clear details, seemingly on the second floor again. I walk by a room that has a low table (about knee-high) that has an image with a teddy bear on it (and there are many other clear details). It looks painted or like a very large decal. The image is quite complex and I am almost certain in afterthought that it is the print of a postage stamp (though I could not find any image close to it anywhere). The teddy bear is in a sailor suit (blue with thinner white stripes) and there is a lot of blue and beige in the image including a beige border. It is sitting near other toys, including a pull-toy of a duck. Exploring other rooms, the visual clarity is almost overwhelming. (My wife reminded me of a cross-stitch design she did similar to the image that was on the table.)

After all of this vivid imagery and flying around and sensual movement and sharpening my focus at least four times throughout my longer dream (with a strange concern about my in-dream breathing at one point, where I have to stop and catch my breath a couple times), I decide to let it go, as my head is starting to feel a bit in “overdrive” and I wake immediately.

Morning of July 9, 2015. Thursday.



I sometimes find it somewhat peculiar how a shorter look at a dream from as far back as 1965 (without even putting that much attention on the new online summary) can somehow trigger a similar focus in a new dream. Certainly there is probably no meaning or symbolic association as such, but perhaps partially relevant to the work I am doing now regarding all April 9th dreams that seem to show extensive foreshadowing or precognitive elements in ways that seem by lifelong design. I suppose in that case, even considering that television broadcasts had certain strong influences, what determines which facets of such influences are the ones to seemingly create strong personal meaning even in a long-term precognitive sense? This may also be relevant to some extent with reviewing very old dreams, although the mood is sometimes different.

The concept that reminds me of my 1965 dream (“Frankenstein Closes the World”) is the opening of various small doors partly into what seems like a vertically “flat” (and inaccessible) version of part of the world at times. The idea of needing to go beyond a certain point seems like some sort of in-dream waking metaphor as with many in-dream events that some people try to claim as life-relevant events. For example, there has been a recurring situation in some dream types of going through a building and coming to a “dead-end” such as a window overlooking a city at night. A “dead-end” as such is almost always within a commercial building, though on a couple occasions related to trying to get out the hallway door on the south end of my Cubitis home during the time when it was not used in reality and was padded around the frame with pieces of blanket. A “dead-end” in a dream is likely some sort of impediment to the waking process and little else. You are in a dream and ready to wake, but perhaps not quite in the correct physical orientation to comfortably do so (for example, your arm being in an uncomfortable position).

In this dream, I mostly fly around and evade unknown people in mostly a cheerful manner. The scenario is not that clear, though the situation is quite common in dreams. It seems to relate in part to people not liking my flying ability, or me in general - though in this case it is likely that they view me as tresspassing. I fly about and land on roofs and walk on them a short time before flying elsewhere. There are a few scenes where I have to maneuver through very small openings in the middle of cluttered halls (which would otherwise be impossible to even squeeze through in reality) which seem somewhat related to industrial buildings. Some of these maneuvers seem to automatically trigger “resets” to where the setting changes dramatically. There are still seemingly annoyed people following me inside buildings as I fly around, though. One blocked area is made up of randomly stacked and partly fallen over boxes with at least one loose pipe diagonally across the top part of the small opening. I somehow still get through easily.

There is a scene where I am sitting at a table with another (unknown) male in the hall in the King Street boarding house (where there was not really enough room to do so in reality). The room I thought I had been stealthily residing in rent-free (where I never lived in in reality) turns out to be in use by a second unknown male, probably a college student, and I apologize for any intrusion I and the other male may have created when he opens his door. There is no conflict, however. From here, I go to the front of the house (though still upstairs) and into the kitchen. At this point, a third unknown person (female) is following me as if to ask me a question or at least say something. I am not interested and walk out onto the roof. Even though I am not lucid in any way, I know I can fly (typical in many dream types). I leap from the edge of the roof and the enjoyable and expected slight feeling of falling followed by rising up in flight occurs as usual. The other person seems somewhat surprised I did this. I fly fairly close to the ground near a group of unknown people before rising higher into the air again, effortlessly.

There is a shorter scenario after I land where I somehow cause money to come out of a machine of some sort (directly influenced by having seen the first episode of “Continuum” from 2012 on DVD). There is at least one American fifty-dollar bill for myself (along with what looks like a few different types of bills from Canada and Australia), yet I give my (deceased in real life) sister Marilyn a hundred-dollar bill for her husband for some reason. After a short time in a shift to a distorted version of her house, she is very angry about this act. She seems to believe that the gift of a hundred dollar bill somehow makes the time they spent saving money seem meaningless and she seems not to want it as such (which of course makes no sense at all other than perhaps for someone of an untimely poverty mentality which my sister certainly never had in life).

From here, I am watching a scene where my family is watching a very large flat-screen television, though I view the setting from the side of the television. The setting seems to take on an unusual vertically “flat” perspective that is hard to describe. I see my youngest son but not that clearly. It seems to be part of some sort of new television show about families watching television shows but mostly only filming their feet (yet I do not even reflect upon “Gogglebox Australia”, though which Zsuzsanna and I could only watch a few minutes of one episode of weeks ago). From here, I seem to be looking down at my own body in bed but from an unlikely angle though still from somewhere near my shoulders. There is some sort of abstract thought reflecting a potential of watching myself while watching myself; that is, a third but unseen “me”.

Morning of June 9, 2015. Tuesday.



I have had more vampire-related dreams in the past month than I have had in my lifetime, which is hardly any as stated several times before. In this one, which is fairly vivid though not lucid, I am also a young female, which I suppose sounds unusual to the inexperienced. Then again, considering I dream fairly often of being a letter of the alphabet or a rune (as well as having been vehicles, including a bus - and even a building), the situation is moot.

In this dream I mostly fly around showing my fangs to anyone who annoys me and sometimes creating lightning from my fingertips. My flying position is typically upright, though sometimes diagonal. There is a scene where I take the heads off of several males and roll them across an area in a parking lot near a storefront, like a bowling ball. I am not exactly sure what I look like, though after a time, my dream takes on a new theme.

The only familiar characters at any point are my best friend from school days (Toby T) and my wife’s mother. There is a strange changeover in emotion. I “know” I am female, though there is a point where doubt begins to grow. I am at a movie theater (prior to seeing any known characters) where everyone else is nude, and I feel very embarrassed about wearing clothes (recurring in-dream situation), especially such a large fancy outfit, so much so, I begin to move away, closer to the theater wall so people will not know I am dressed. I contemplate removing everything I am wearing, but my dream shifts to a different setting and situation.

Somehow, someone “knows” who I am, though the setup makes no sense. I am recognized as an actress by at least two people at some sort of public venue, though apparently actually a male, yet still a female in the movies. As I am standing, even though I get a vague impression I may be male (I feel a small movement which creates the impression of a small animal crawling under my clothes - and seems rather unfamiliar yet somehow “right” and some sort of “evidence” that I may be male), I decide I will be nude from then on to prove my status as a “real” female vampire witch. (This is completely different from the first scenes of my dream in my character focus and overall mood.) I “know” that I will excel in exposing these other people as just gossipers. (Besides, the mouse will probably escape and not be seen anyway - in-dream “logic” - imagine a male part being able to come and go like a small animal with a mind of its own.) My total certainty about this aspect of my dream is a very familiar but ambiguous presence of somehow knowing I am the dream-maker, yet not at all lucid.

In another scene, which seems to be a different dream, I seem to be a male (though still associated with magic and vampirism). I am in some sort of friendly meeting with three unknown females with darker skin, in an undefined building (in a mostly featureless rectangular room and sitting on the floor). Although they seem to like and care about me in what seems an augmented empathic setting, I feel a bit strange (but do not express how I feel) in putting on a pair of pants that are over-sized, the crotch and back area almost bowl-like and almost going up to my chest when pulled fully up against my body. I will certainly need a belt, but at the time, I do not have one. It is difficult to imagine going out in public like this with any sense of dignity. One of the females leaves to go to a public venue. Once again, I feel embarrassed upon wearing clothes in-dream (a lifelong recurring theme, often associated with realizing my pants are an ugly or weird style, sometimes clown-like) even though the three females are dressed informally for the most part and do not appear out-of-place.

Morning of April 25, 2015. Saturday.



This is mostly a typical “being hunted” dream of the recurring type since childhood but it ends in a mostly comedic farce. This dream type, though slightly stressful during some scenarios, does not really have that much emotion at most points. I eventually have and maintain the typical three abilities in such dreams: Being able to fly whenever I want to, becoming and staying invisible, and intangibility (including the ability to travel through any wall or even person). These special in-dream abilities often create the impression of moving almost outside of my dream state at times even though I am still technically dreaming and fully in-body in most perspectives.

My dream starts with me being on a familiar city bus and looking at something on a notebook computer on the left side of the aisle, about the sixth seat back. When the bus stops, or is almost stopped at one point and I decide to get off, I hover, while in standing position, about two inches from the floor of the bus. When the bus does completely stop, I move backwards (while floating) and bump into some people seated in the back. I turn around and apologize and then leave the bus, still floating upright and not walking at any point.

From here, people are looking for me - possibly due to my special abilities (or even as a result of my bumping the people on the bus). In dreams like this, most people looking for me are not necessarily law enforcement (or dangerous criminals) but most often related to some sort of industrial business or paramilitary group. I fly for a time, and land on a few different roofs of mostly warehouses and industrial buildings. When I am lying on a roof on my side but with my head elevated and when a female is looking my way to point out where I am to the others, I decide to fly from that area and then land in an alleyway. At that point, I become invisible and eventually intangible. After this, I actually walk through someone (who is walking in my direction); an elderly businesswoman. They are not aware of me at all or that I had passed through them and they do not react in any way.

I walk through walls of some of the warehouses while there are people inside, but because I am invisible, I am not that concerned. Still, they do usually seem to have a special method for finding my general location (within about a two block range).

A Doberman (Doberman Pinscher) appears, running out from a building about half a block away, and knows where I am due to his sense of smell (even though I am still invisible). He begins barking a bit and indicating his awareness of where I am standing at this time. Not quite certain of what to do, as a few of the people will likely soon come to this area, I bend down and bite his nose off, which immediately seems quite disgusting to have to do this. The dog does not even seem that injured, though, but then randomly runs around barking in different areas and seems confused. (This is probably an incidental association with a line from “My Kingdom” by Echo and the Bunnymen, which has both “bite the nose off” and “climb the roof top” - as I had enhanced an old entry about my precognitive “Kingdom” novella though which has nothing to do with the song at all. Over the many years, I have learned that many dreams have associations with no meaning at all other than inconsequential or otherwise unrelated word associations and purely accidental puns.)

I then keep moving until I reach a stream about the same distance wide as railroad tracks and the immediate usual area around them, which is between a mostly featureless field and a higher embankment on the other side (though there are still a few old wooden buildings off to my left). The Doberman is off to my left, not knowing where I am anymore. Across the stream, the area seems far more rural, with a bit of tall grass here and there and a few trees. (Even though it is quite different, especially regarding the stream and higher embankment, it has a similar layout and essence as the area beyond the backyard in Cubitis and thus seems very loosely modeled on the area, as is the case with many other dreams that do not actually imply the area - this not being due to a particular memory but the brain simply using it for a “new” setting - I have seen this continuously throughout my life including with composite locations and bilocated features.)

Soon, about a hundred or more Irish Setters appear by approaching the edge of the embankment across the river. They are all of several different mostly solid colors in no particular order: Mostly black, darker brown, lighter rust-colored, and white. They start barking in large groups while sitting and pointing their noses upward, almost like an implied chorus, creating such a cacophony, it becomes ridiculous, and they are not necessarily barking at or sensing me, because the lines are long and they are all looking in one straight direction rather than arced around my general location. They are mostly in about three or four even suggested lines, but not fully together in any line other than in groups of about five or six. One male comes out from near where they are to see what is going on as he seems to be one of the owners or trainers. The loud sound becomes like a continuous “Ru-ru-ru-ru-ru-ru” - very realistic in the impression even though I have never heard that many dogs barking at once in real life.

These dogs on the other side of the stream are creating so much distraction and noise (as well as confusing the Doberman even more) that I know I will easily be able to move out of the range of my “hunters” from here by flying over the stream and moving on into what is probably a peaceful forest beyond. One of the males who was trying to locate me is about half a block away to my left, distracted by the dogs, some of which seem to be barking at him.