Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 23, 1987. Tuesday.



I am in a completely unfamiliar region in late afternoon. I am exploring an area that seems to be somewhat like an airport, though quite strange in design. There is a high scallop-shaped platform (with primarily black, silver, and red decor, including a black carpet or softly textured floor) that people have to climb, fairly steep, but somewhat miniature steps to get up to, seemingly a bit inconvenient - and it seems people have to take all of their own luggage up to the high platform. It is probably about two stories as I believe there is at least one landing above ground-level. The steps go up from the side opposite the fan-shaped expanse. There also seems to be a semicircular railing on the highest part of the structure; the side opposite where people are mostly sitting at ground-level below. After time passes, I start to think that the airplanes are probably more like hovercrafts or flying saucers (though of entirely human design and origin), as I do not quite understand how the system works, as I reason that airplanes cannot really stop in midair at any time, which is what the scallop-shaped platform seems to indicate (that is, for flying craft to stop or hover right near or above it). I get the impression that one flight of steps may be an escalator but I am not certain. I am also considering whether or not I really need to be here, though it seemingly relates to my “mystery girl” at one point.

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Vestibular system correlation happens continuously throughout REM sleep and has been the primary cause of autosymbolism in my dreams since earliest memory. This is mainly influenced by the dream self unable to viably perceive the status of the physical body, especially in regard to the dream self discerning itself as vertical when the physical body is horizontal. The design of the platform validates this, as a seashell is associated with inner ear dynamics (balance) and holding it up to one’s ear to supposedly “hear the ocean”. The common “staircase as consciousness shift” autosymbolism also occurs here.

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Morning of January 16, 2017. Monday.



There is some sort of conspiracy related to a hospital serving as an “airport” for certain flights, this being unknown to the passengers. Apparently, they experiment on the passengers or harvest their organs.

There is a scene where I seem to be on an airplane, though I also see an unrealistic degree of additional details outside the airplane. The airplane lands on a boulevard near the hospital (in an unknown location), seemingly without any traffic mishaps. It even taxis into a special hangar inside the hospital.

I somehow phase through the airplane even though I am aware that everyone else on it has gone into some sort of suspended animation (obvious autosymbolism for being asleep and dreaming). I am in the hangar and see several other people who work at the hospital approaching the airplane. They seem happy that a lot of passengers are in it. They do not even notice me at first and by the time they do, I am almost out into the hall. They start to chase me but I close the door and lock it behind me, the act of which immediately makes my dream much more vivid. (This is called “doorway reinduction”, as doors are usually autosymbolic of the implied exit point of a dream, though I have used this knowledge all my life to sustain and reinduce my dream state awareness.) The lock is a rectangular part that extends only a short way out from the face of the doorknob (by almost its full diameter), which I rotate to the left as I close the door (dream state reinduction orientation as I sleep on my left side). They cannot continue to follow me.

Later, I notice unfamiliar patients in beds in the halls. Some of them join me as I then decide to leave the hospital rather than create any confrontations. I see doctors talking in the hall. I see at least one police officer, but I am not sure if he is corrupt and working with the hospital. Rather than going down one hall where we could get caught, I take one on the left of two choices, where there are no people who would question us or follow us. It seems to be a very simple evasion. We all get to the end of the hall and are able to escape.

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This is a very basic “return flight” type dream with the same overall patterns as always; the subliminal anticipation of the waking shift (which sometimes includes a falling sensation and which creates precursors that include a number of different flight symbols, though which also include elevators and staircases), the liminal space of the hall, liminal awareness of being asleep (a bed as a dream state indicator), and a doorway at the end of the hall to exit my dream though after having sustained its length a little bit by locking the first door. There is no direct preconscious factor here though it is a rather sustained unusual dream just for being based on vestibular system correlation. The organ harvesting was related to a movie we saw recently (“Inhale” from 2010). Still, it seems to imply that the collective unconscious is “experimenting” on the collective conscious, the logic being that the sleeping passengers would represent conscious selves sleeping and the hospital staff being minds active within the dream state, though I suppose it could also just be a simple metaphor for lucidity and how I am often lucid in dreams while many others are not (though I myself am not viably lucid at any point in this dream other than having a degree of the typical liminal dream control, that is, control of the dream state without in-dream awareness that I am dreaming, though my second attempt to reinduce and sustain my dream instead results in slowly waking by way of doorway waking autosymbolism, which has happened in childhood even when choosing the left door).

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Night of October 23, 1974. Wednesday.



I am in my middle school library, in eighth grade, the middle area of the first aisle, and it seems an atypical time for being there, perhaps even at night. There are two girls together at another large table, south of me, facing me (though I originally seemed to be seated facing north; my dream apparently “jumping” into a different orientation). I ignore their presence for a time (one being Patty A, which is not feasible, as she would have been in high school this year). I get the strong impression that the very large boa constrictor (which was killed in real life during a break-in with much other damage to my school, by continuously being struck against the wall) is in a vivarium about halfway up on a long bookcase, between rows of books. There is a sort of vague dream within a dream (more like a daydream within my dream) that I somehow indirectly protect the girls from the escaped snake and also an impression that it crawled near their feet without them realizing it. This also seems like some sort of brief “reset” in a typical dream “replay” at one level. (Regarding the antique car in the next paragraph - “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” - there is an odd association with Patty’s friend Olga, regarding the sound of the name being similar to the car horn sound “ooga”.) Nevertheless, I could not imagine what kind of person or persons would indulge in such activity regarding the real-life events concerning the break-in, especially in thoughtlessly killing the pet snake. There were also bomb scares in real life (especially in May of 1974), and evacuations that year.

From to my left on the shelf, midway up, I pull out a very large, heavily annotated edition of “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” which also oddly seems to be Bible-like (possibly because of the serpent association). I get the impression that the library is also an airport - in that there is a larger airport within the library rather than the other way around. I contemplate the possible likelihood of “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” actually being one of the vehicles used in flight to and form the supposed airport. Not much else happens, although I sense I am supposed to be in a classroom at the time but am not due to stubbornness and disinterest (and I am also somewhat concerned about not being dressed appropriately and seemingly wearing light blue and white vertically striped pajamas at one point).

There seems to be a lot of strange criticism of the book in the annotations (with various notes on how unlikely or ambiguous each paragraph’s events are), and implying the author (Ian Fleming) was in a psychiatric hospital at the time he wrote it as well as unable to walk or move much. I also wonder if any of the airplanes from this place would be safe to travel on, also contemplating my leave of school with no plan to come back because of the possible lack of safety, as I falsely recall that flying in a poorly maintained aircraft is how I get to and from school. I do not question any of the various errors in my dream scene perspective (such as school-library-airport composites). Supposedly “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” in-dream is considered the worst book ever written according to critics, also wrongfully implying it being solely for ages four and under. In reality, I really liked the movie (and the book was not bad in my opinion, either) though never took critics seriously in any way as it is, though as can be expected the name “Chitty” was altered to its expletive form by classmates and even kids from the elementary school.

Morning of January 2, 1972. Sunday.



I am apparently a member of a group of detectives. I seem much older and I do not seem implied to be my conscious self. I am riding in the front seat on the right and I am not the driver. The driver is an unknown male with a celebrity essence, though unfamiliar. We are in what may be a police car, but from the 1920s or 1930s.

We are supposed to prevent a biplane from taking off from the runway of a small airport. Soon, it is headed right for us. Oddly, we are also copied into a scene in front of us at somewhat of a distance. That is, we are watching “our” car on the runway ahead, with another us (yet somehow still us). I am thinking “we” might be struck by the biplane if we keep going but it is not that fearful. (The sense of anticipation is not that vivid.) The biplane lifts from the runway a few times, but only just a little, and is back down.

Eventually stopping, and the other us no longer present, it turns out that the biplane is only a painted mural (or perhaps a low-set billboard) so it was never really a threat. We get out of the car. The biplane is now facing the left side of the car and it seems we may be on a normal city street. I feel like saying something but I do not.

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