Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 24, 2021. Friday.

Dream #: 20,003-02. 2 min 54 sec read.

Late at night, I watch sparkling silver cursive text (as if covered with glitter) move smoothly through the sky from right to left. I am on the front porch of a fictitious version of the Barolin Street house (where we have not lived in years). The text is not on a banner as it seems to be a solid sequence of plastic material shaped like the outer form of the writing, moving like a conveyor belt. I am unsure of the implication. I decide it may be unseen aliens because the text refers to humans collectively, using “you” (not me personally).

I describe it to Zsuzsanna as she approaches. As text often does in dreams, it continuously changes, but with some readable words and phrases forming and morphing here and there. There is a transition to a similar scene, but unresolvable indoor-outdoor ambiguity (impossible with conscious perception) is predominant before the narrative changes again. The entire neighborhood seems to be inside the house. The floating text is unlike silver glitter now and plain, “rotating” across the “ceiling.” (It is a common mistake in my dreams for the sky to become a ceiling or vice versa.)

Now it is daytime. The events are more vivid as I become more physically aware (temporary proprioception correlating with my specific level of REM atonia). Objects are continuously moving from left to right in midair, in front of the eaves of the porch. They first seem like miniature air conditioners. Zsuzsanna is to my left (as with our sleeping position). I know they should keep going, but a few of them fall from the sequence on the porch floor and outside near the porch door.

I pick up one object and throw it into the front yard. I soon throw another one that rapidly slides across the street into someone else’s front yard, though into a culvert drainage ditch (confusion with the Cubitis house in America). There is an unfamiliar dark-haired man who is also moving similar objects out of the way. I apologize to him. He remains cheerful. He tells me that the gadgets might be a type of camera. (This event is my dream’s most vivid part because of vestibular phasing, somatosensory phasing, and increasing, though imaginary, proprioception for eventual emerging from REM atonia.)

It is suddenly night again. I am temporarily concerned that the objects, like empty cardboard boxes at this point, might explode (myoclonic anticipation caused by REM sleep). Our middle son walks out into the front yard (from the porch) just as an explosion occurs (though he is about ten years younger in my dream). The explosion causes him to fly back through the top of the porch’s inner wall (physically impossible but a predictable outcome when remaining in the dream state after a REM myoclonic event). It is as if there was a gap above the window frames. He now stands near us and seems fine. I get the vivid impression of a simulated “war” or events caused by aliens that do not understand that humans can die. (My level of metacognition is low, so this is my mind creatively compensating for the fakeness of the dream state.)

In the next scene, multicolored glowing barrels are “rolling” in midair in the sky and “shooting” rectangular and square pieces of themselves at various buildings and people (though no one seems injured). At this point, there is a vague association with “Pixels” from 2015 (likely an influence for much of the content).

In my dream’s last scene, I walk up to an “alien” who seems to be fixing a public building. I talk to the unfamiliar man (who looks human). I tell him that Earth’s military might destroy their spaceships once they learn what is happening. Protoconsciousness (caused by REM cerebral phasing) initiates as an “alien” who reminds me of Melvin Belli as the Gorgan from the “Star Trek” episode, “And the Children Shall Lead.”

He holds up his hand, addressing the other “alien” and me while cheerfully saying, “Propaganda!” about what I said.

“That’s not what ‘propaganda’ is, you moron,” I shout. I explain what propaganda is to him as I slowly wake, but consider they might not understand other English words. Of course, this was the protoconsciousness catalyst that triggered more realistic emotion (more so than the earlier explosion near my son) as well as cerebral phasing.

---

Morning of January 22, 2019. Tuesday.

Dream #: 19,027-05. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



This entry describes a vivid dream from an early evening nap, which typically renders rapidly processed vestibular system correlation, most often something or someone falling or coming down from above as in this case, though still inherited in some cases and not always with a so-called sleep start.

---

In my dream, I remain aware of being in the dream state, but I do not attempt to mediate any of the processes. It seems to be in the afternoon. I watch a black double-decker bus slowly come down from the sky and land in the middle of the street in an unknown location. (It comes straight down from above. There is no forward movement.) I do not see any wheels, but otherwise, it has no unusual features. However, it is implied to be an alien spacecraft despite the “aliens” appearing as human teenagers that fill the bus. (There are no thoughts about a driver or any defined backstory.)

An unknown girl comes from the back, from the top section, and emerges through the main entrance on the side facing me. A crowd of people slowly approach her. The bus is facing to my right, implying left-hand drive, so it is erroneous if intending a UK or Australian setting.

---

Waking autosymbolism is usually oriented to the right when sleeping on my left side. Bus dreams are usually linear vestibular system correlation and inherited, not transitional and projected as here, though again, this is a nap dream. I am assuming the emergence simulacrum represents Zsuzsanna.

---

Morning of September 12, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,895-02. Optimized 1 min 15 sec read.



I am in the Loomis Street house on the second floor and mentally form a spaceship out of the front area. Several unfamiliar men are with me.

I operate my jerry-built flying saucer, still made of wood from the house. It rises in the air and enters outer space. One unknown male (protoconsciousness emergence caused by my vestibular phasing response to the dream state) is wary.

I go to Mars and enjoy seeing its landscapes. My illusory sensations of movement (imaginary kinesthesia caused by the vestibular phasing dynamics of REM atonia) are vivid.

“I’m going to the third galaxy,” I tell the others (an association with Earth being the third planet from the sun).

With the silly pretense of metacognitive dream shaping, I cheerfully claim every solar system has at least one planet like Earth, many of which have human-like inhabitants.

I create a planet upon which to land. There are many unusual structures. The “aliens” look like people, but they say “arrow” (myoclonus association) instead of “hello.” I mentally try to prevent them from speaking English, but we hear some short phrases. Because of this, one male passenger thinks we might be on Earth.

I see spiral writing and crosshairs on a computer screen. I read “TTYL” (“Talk To You Later”). I consider I should make the text seem more “alien.” I focus, and it soon mainly contains characters like those from the Netflix “Travelers” series. (It is a science-fiction series about human time travelers).

I summon Zsuzsanna into a bedroom for an intimate experience. My somatosensory response (tactility, physical pleasure, and sense of warmth) increases exponentially. I sit on a bed, and Zsuzsanna sits on me, facing me. The protoconsciousness personification and the other passengers are watching us through a window (with no sense of intrusion). (There is a vague association with the last scene of the James Bond movie “Moonraker” from 1979.)

---

Morning of May 2, 2018. Wednesday.



My dream begins with the very common circadian rhythm correlation of the “something wrong with the sun” factor.

In late afternoon, I am in a distortion of my Cubitis home, on the east side of the living room, though it is implied as our present home. I become aware that the sun is becoming too hot for life to continue on Earth. Thus, this is a typical “end of the world” theme (though these are rarely nightmarish for me in the way described by other people), which has occurred on a regular basis for over fifty years. I perceive much of the solar system as being oriented above and beyond the house to the east, with the implication there is no detail rendered elsewhere (such as beyond the other side of the world or to the west). This is surreal, as there are vestibular dynamics where I seem to “fall” into outer space in a dream within a dream and then shift back into my original dream’s setting without waking or with any perceived concurrent threat or concern other than the prospect of the sun eventually becoming too hot. It is as if my dream self is subliminally testing the autosymbolic (vestibular) design of my dream before deciding to continue (even though I am not viably lucid).

I am aware that the sun’s heat will be increasing exponentially, and that in a few hours it will be about 6,400 degrees (or 80^2). A number of unknown people are present. Some of the others talk about surviving for a few additional hours. Apparently, they believe they can live for an extra hour or two, or longer, by staying in a building with an air conditioner that remains on. We all go out to find a safer location.

There is a surreal scene where I am temporarily inside an upright hollow rectangular prism. Someone else is near the top looking down at me, as I am looking up from within it. There is some sort of ambiguous association with it being a vehicle. It seems nighttime at this point, but soon switches back to afternoon.

While in an unfamiliar building on the third floor, I watch equidistant soap bubbles float by outside. I realize that this means aliens are present (subliminally influenced by comic book story I had not thought of at all in years). I consider that the aliens are here to save humanity, even though I only see the spaceship briefly in a dream within a dream. Some of the others suggest that we need to go underground, though we remain on the first floor for a time.

My dream becomes more vivid and I am now in a distortion of the Loomis Street house, near the back door. A doll walks in from outside. It is about a foot high. It does not talk but makes clicking and humming noises as if to analyze a person’s status. A teddy bear also walks in as well as a stuffed elephant (with a floral print) walking on its back legs. They are all the same height.

In the final moments prior to waking, I consider that the friendly and helphful aliens are very shy, so they sent in these devices to make first contact and to study people for a time before taking the human race to another planet to ensure survival.

---

The “alien” association is caused by the transient dream self not being correlated with the conscious self identity while in REM sleep (as the non-lucid dream self has neither viable contact with the unconscious, such as consistent memory of personal history, or the conscious self identity as in waking life, though most people do not have the ability to realize this at all, hence belief in nonsensical forms of “interpretation”). This is not quite as common as more mundane RAS correlation factors. This is resolved by the introduction of the dream state indicators, teddy bear (first-level dream state indicator) and doll (autosymbolism for the physical body being inactive in sleep - more specifically, my subliminal awareness of Zsuzsanna also being asleep). An elephant, the last “toy” to enter the room, is autosymbolism for the waking alert factor in this case, due to how it “trumpets” (initiating the return to waking consciousness). Once my fictitious dream self subliminally accepts the dream state indicators, RAS modulation begins the waking process. Additionally, this is also a form of doorway waking symbolism, as the “toys” walk in through the back door from outside. (There is no personified preconscious factor as the “toys” hold this role.)

---

Morning of March 5, 2014. Wednesday.



The first section of the dream is more vivid and blissful compared to the second half. It starts out with watching the very dark nighttime sky (viewing to the north is implied) and seeing green and orange patterns in various locations, mostly above the twenty degree viewpoint. The patterns are unnatural but beautiful. At first, though, it seems to be the result of natural but amazing rainbow effects (with all the rainbow colors only at first) that somehow scatter over the moon and clouds. Over time though, I notice a Yin and Yang symbol made of evenly divided green and orange light (which I first thought was either a reflection of some kind over the moon, or some sort of “reflection” of the “altered” moon from elsewhere); that is, one section of all green, the other of orange, almost like orange and green commas in the sky (one rotated 180 degrees) and connected to each other. There are a couple more isolated solely green or orange patches that are somewhat rectangular but very irregular otherwise. Other clustered patterns of green and orange (often together in equal proportions) are in the sky. Some are superimposed on clouds, others on their own. This all seems to be evidence for alien activity and using the town as a “landing point” or “beginning location”, but not necessarily with a threatening implication.

Later, I seem to be with a few unknown people at an unknown address which is like our last home in Brisbane but somewhat different. Extended from one side is a larger, longer garage-like structure where the driveway would be. I talk about the activity in the sky but there is a man who denies seeing anything.

Over time, upon several occasions when incidentally looking in a particular direction, I see something almost human-like, but much smaller, running through an area of the garden and behind a corner. A couple of times, I almost think I see wings on the “creature” as well (at this point, likely a real-life reference to a draco/“winged” agamid/flying dragon I had for a brief period when young - though I guess it mostly reminds me of a basilisk lizard), but the figure is very indistinct and always moving at about a forty-five degree angle from my forward view. There also seems to be some possible distortion caused by the outdoor light and the fact that the “creature” is zigzagging to avoid being seen (faulty dream “logic” - zigzagging would not actually prevent someone from being seen). There seems to be some drama associated with the viewing and others taking notice, but in the end, it seems I am the only one who regards the forms as unusual or out of place. I start going off on a rant about how the town is supposedly hiding aliens. I am not angry about the aliens, only about the town hiding them from the world or not admitting to their activities, especially regarding the evidence in the sky. Although there are a couple times when the figures seem fairly large compared to other times (about half the size of an adult human), they seem to be smaller and smaller over time. At one point, it seems they may be only about the size of a larger insect (such as a dragonfly or large grasshopper) or perhaps even are insects mistaken for aliens. There is also the vague awareness of the old comic book scenario where a giant shrinks at the same time he is running to appear to be running away much faster.

Finally, I manage to corner an “alien” in the garden (or so it seems at first) and grab it with my left hand. It is actually a baby blue tongue lizard which does not try to escape. I hold it gently in the palm of my left hand. I do not question how lizards could run around upright on two back legs, but this one is smaller than the first creatures I had seen running around and first assumed were aliens. I inform the man that had been denying everything that I had caught one of the creatures I had been seeing (which everyone else eventually claimed that they did not see or at least see anything unusual about - again, taking into account regarding how a lizard could run on two back legs). I hold the lizard up and it actually speaks quietly into my left ear, saying something about the alien presence in the town. For some reason, I do not question this - I guess because some kinds of birds can talk so why not lizards? The lizard is not an alien yet I am aware he knows all about the aliens and will reveal everything to me even though none of the people will. I ask aloud, but softly, where the aliens came from. The lizard says “B'nishia”.

I tell the man that the aliens came from (planet) B'nishia. He looks astounded. “How did you know about that?” he asks tentatively - not about the concept of actual aliens in the town, but about the name B'nishia. He does not seem to acknowledge the fact that I am holding a lizard at all, let alone possibly communicating with it. Not much happens after this.

Originally, when hearing “B'nishia”, I got a strange association with “beneath ya (you)” and “Malaysia”. In addition, I found this about one type of lizard which seemed to be in this dream: “These ‘Jesus Lizards’ can run across water for short distances.”

More here: http://blue-opossum.tumblr.com/post/...ssing-airplane

Morning of January 27, 2014. Monday.

Dream #: 17,206-03. Reading time (optimized): 3 min.



I am in the distant future and about eighteen years old. I am in a control station where men are performing maintenance. The underground chamber is dark. There are three sets of tracks that interlink, in an arrangement of one above the other in some areas so that a train may be very close when passing in either direction above or below another. It is a bookcase-like framework. Groups of men cooperate to guide a big fire hose and are watering down sections of the track after some trains pass so that they do not overheat. I see steam everywhere. There is noise, and it is hard work. The population is dense, so underground trains must move across a big complex grid of tracks of at least three tiers. (Some of this was influenced by “The Bloodhouse,” a 23-minute documentary, about a week ago, about where my wife was born in Port Kembla, a town of surreal industrialization.)

Trains would crash into each other unless a worker remains vigilant, using a control box on a large column. It is like the duty of an air traffic controller but a faster pace. There are about four pudgy men on a break before checking the condition of some older panels and equipment of lesser use. I wander into the area, saying I am only looking around and enjoy learning from places I have not yet been. I explain myself because an older man (of about sixty), whose name is George, asks me why I am “back with humans” again because he recognizes me from when he was much younger, yet I was of the same appearance then. My presence seems to annoy him. I like George, but I am apologetic that he does not seem to like beings who are “not human.” He was part of a group of adopted children from parents whom aliens had abducted, but the adoption agency never revealed the truth. After their parents were back on Earth, their children never learned of this. (“George” is a play on “György,” my wife’s father’s name).

Over time, I witness a derailing. People talk about how to avoid them (influence from “The Bloodhouse” video). I go to a group who are familiar with adoption coverups. Polish people were also abducted. I want to find out about George’s parents so he might have closure. I use a machine that is reminiscent of an old disused video game kiosk to insert a device that is like a CRT monitor (but lighter) into a hollow section. I enter access codes. The history of the world is available. There are scenes of dinosaurs and flying pterodactyls and later, prehistoric men in a later era. I tell someone about a species of dinosaur that could speak, comparable to parrots. There is an idea, featured as a cartoon of low quality that the first “dragon” was a pterodactyl. I lived during these times and have vague memories of my prehistoric past.

I am now near a frozen lake. Athletic females are ice-skating as part of the “Ice Capades.” There are small groups of spectators, one of old female hippies from Nimbin who have at least two mermaid dolls among them; one with a green scaly tail, the other with a purple scaly tail. A couple seems in a trance as they can barely move. I decide not to approach any of them. I slide around on the ice on my stomach, mentally propelling myself forward at a slow speed at times, enjoying the iciness for several minutes. I eventually conclude that it is not that interesting, so I get up to do something else.

Details about blue and brown eyes become a focus. It allows me to find George’s father, who supposedly had brown eyes. I gather documents to reveal the parents of all the adopted children. Even though the people are all old now, they will have closure. I get the impression that George’s parents are still alive, so he will finally get to know them.

---

Dream signature: Vestibular system adaptation with vestibular cortex activity (railroad tracks above me), melatonin mediation (workers watering railroad tracks), preconscious mediation (talking with George), thinking skills and consciousness emerging (entering access codes), dream state sustained (frozen lake), contemplation of vestibular system correlation to increase awareness of physicality (watching ice skaters), contemplation of water reinduction with awareness the body does not move while sleeping (mermaid dolls), willing vestibular system correlation (sliding on ice), REM recognition (focus on eye dynamics). Waking contemplation (George “returning home”).

---

Morning of August 12, 2013. Monday.



This was another unusual recent dream relating to new technological concepts (gadgets this time - from alien technology) which has been more common in the last few years.

It has never been all that common for me to dream directly about aliens themselves (although UFO-type lights in the sky that turn out to be various things - from secret test planes of the government to undiscovered stellar phenomena - before dawn, are rather common and very peaceful and even nostalgic).

This time, the aliens are very passive and otherwise friendly and helpful towards humans. Some of them are nearly twice as tall as humans, but many are only slightly taller than the average person. They have yellowish skin and mostly wear green, white, or blue coveralls. Their facial characteristics are more angular than a human’s, almost canine, but with human-like skin for the most part. They remind me a little of a Marvel comic Skrull, but are never hostile or what I would call ugly in overall appearance.

During this time earlier in my dream of their more open attitude, and very early in the morning in my dream, an alien girl (walking with at least one other female alien companion) asks me to gather a couple items. One of them is a few grams of the Indian mustard plant (petals and leaves) - which will be precisely measured on an otherwise normal looking small plate (but with some sort of very small, attached computerized tool to complete the dividing and measuring work automatically). The other, I think, is a certain amount of Lapis Lazuli. I do the task, enjoying the time of being outside in the early morning in a sparsely wooded area.

Later, she is in human guise for some reason (although I still see her as partly alien at this time, but she is wearing a shorter pink-gray-yellow plaid skirt and to her left is a different alien than the previous companion) and I ask her (she is northeast from me in a larger building - a cafeteria at a local business?) if I can get her breakfast - but she says she has already eaten, an onion ring (at Dairy Queen or some such) and a slice of tomato, I think. She casually says as I am leaving the area…“love you…” in a similar manner as my wife and by which I nod back in confirmation, echoing her words (and I have a very brief thought of wondering why the aliens care so much about certain humans such as myself - I do not think there is any actual romantic connection though I did not feel certain of that at the time). She seems to be sitting at an indoor picnic table or picnic-table-like cafeteria bench (very common meeting place in my dreams for some reason - above and beyond scenarios with people at normal tables or household furniture of any kind) with white marble-design seats and top (metal frame otherwise).

Later on, I seem to be fairly young and am in school, possibly ninth grade, perhaps - as it reminds me of DHS (but also just a little of DMS). A certain subject comes up - the flow of conversation eventually bringing attention to an alien girl to my left; the common, larger alien presence casually mentioned during some sort of open conversation with the whole class, which for some unremembered reason turns to the subject of the aliens being “everywhere” and relationships that people have with both them and with the culturally different. It turns out, however, that no one (except me) seems to remember the friendly relationship held with aliens for about a year or more. The alien looks human to everyone else and the rest of the people in the room have no belief or memory of the year-long experiences they had lived through recently.

It turns out that the aliens - who have no ballistic weapons of any kind (but had been accused of such) - had sorrowfully erased any memory of themselves from the minds of the majority of humans because of violence and myth-building towards them and their ways. What is interesting is that the aliens now are even more active - and in two “forms”. Either they are in human guise (both for protection and stealthily studying humans, which they had not done when visible to everyone - it was only after a growing conflict/misunderstanding on the part of the humans) or are completely invisible to the majority and go about with experiments and important activities relative to natural resources and natural resource testing. The ones who are invisible are the much taller ones. They do work related to engineering and the natural resource testing.

Near the middle section of my dream, I seem to be someone else, and I am with several other people at someone’s home (seemingly a larger second-floor apartment). I show a friend (Steve J, a male classmate from years ago) an alien “toy”. It is first shown as a large book-like object but with three or four three-dimensional rectangular computer screens that seem to be deeper (in visual orientation) than the “book” itself. Eventually, a few items emerge from out of the “book”/manufacturing device - via the “computer screens”, beginning as holographic patterns - then being physically created by some sort of laser “printing” into stacked layers of the eventual solid, completed form. One of the toys is like a white “moon buggy”, but with four legs instead of wheels (similar to the moon walkers that came free in Quisp cereal boxes years ago in the late 60s but much bigger), that moves forward and falls off the edge of the table after twice turning correctly at the corners. I tell a white lie to Steve claiming that it fell because I had not held the remote control towards it, but the truth was that its edge-and-surface-detecting software was malfunctioning. There are also a few robotic white dogs (one with no head) and some other toys that we watch for several minutes, all of them built by the book-like manufacturing device which was given to me (and certain others) by the aliens, and is also one of the few pieces of alien technology that all humans can see. This is why I use it to convince Steve and others that the aliens exist and are also friendly, even though, for the most part, they believe that the device could have been made by humans - at least to a point - until more complex “toys” are “built in mid-air” by laser printing, and then move about.

Eventually, there are medicinal pills available (the containers given only to the select few that can already see all the aliens and their constructs and for them to choose friends or trusted family to give to) that causes the person that takes one to be cured of their mind’s limitations and which prevents the mental “blocking” of the complex electromagnetic fields or some such, enabling them to see all the aliens and alien utilities (as well as their spacecrafts). There are also a group of about five men from the government (relating to some sort of security or science or both). They are in a jovial mood and do not seem a threat to either the aliens or people. They had not yet taken any of the pills at that point. They are all both sitting and standing near the northern end of a large building.

During the last section of my dream, I go to a small alien spacecraft (which looks a lot like an old-fashioned porcelain juicer) that is “parked” near some trees in a clearing to the north. There are a few wider grassy embankments. It is fairly close to the outskirts of an unknown town. The alien is so tall that I am only as tall as one of his legs. He is wearing vertically-striped gray and green coveralls. He has a deep gravelly voice but is very friendly and seemingly simple-minded. He is doing some sort of work with a rather large tree, the branches being cut off, then somehow restored in cycles, with some sort of complex machine being implemented. There is a very loud, rhythmic sound with very strange overtones. It almost sounds like some sort of giant (or greatly amplified) viola performance. I tell the alien about how mankind cut down too many trees (even in reference to the 1994 movie “Rapa Nui”) and the alien seems very puzzled, as if he does not understand that I mean cutting down a lot of trees can mean most trees in a larger area or region. He asks, “How could one man cut down too many trees in his garden?” as it does not make sense to him that a man (or men) can use a larger amount of human resources in their own business or endeavors. The idea of one man being allowed to own more than only a small area of land seems insane to him and beyond his ability to picture - especially relating to human population and needs - I guess he is not one of the aliens that had been studying humans more, but just a worker. He is then going into a procedure that is somehow causing the tree to become whole again for the final cycle. The sound of the machine becomes even more like a viola as I walk back to the south. The various parts of the tree as they are cut and then joined back as a whole, seems to be like an amazing exotic dance.

I walk back to the other men and notice that someone who is seated (seemingly the oldest of the government-based group) is swaying and pretending to play a small violin (“to accompany the viola” it seems) and is also nodding his head and smiling. It seems they had actually heard the noise later on, as Steve had taken my container and given them the medicinal tablets. They also had some glimpses of the spacecraft and one or two glimpses of the tall alien. I ask the men if they were worried now that they knew the truth. The oldest says (quite vividly and fairly loudly but in a very friendly manner), “Oh, I don’t know, he had a very nice voice”.

Curiously, in the majority of my dreams (but certainly not all) aliens are usually friendly and often even passive, even when rather unusual-looking, while humans are often the “bad guys” so to speak.

Morning of April 19, 2009. Sunday.



I am at Northern Engraving, a factory where I had worked in the 1980s, on the second floor in the lunchroom. I am seated at a wooden picnic table and talking with a coworker about having seen tiny people of about four inches high. No one believes they exist. (My dream seems to have at least one reset after the point where the coworkers leave and the tiny people are seen by me.)

When there are again no coworkers in the lunchroom (which illogically implies that all my coworkers had come back only to all leave again) of which has minimal lighting, I see the tiny people running across the floor near the doorway (from right to left) and they are soon aware that I can see them. They seem like humans at first, only miniature. At this point, my dream becomes extraordinarily vivid.

Over time, there seems to be an area beyond the lunchroom where the doorway connects to the Barolin Street house’s doorway directly into the hallway (from where would have been our oldest son’s bedroom at the time).

There also seems to be areas that lead out from there into WWTI (where I worked in maintenance as well as having taken two courses in machine tool and carpentry). I sit on the floor with my knees up and my back against the hall’s wall and I am very friendly with these apparent aliens that also somehow now seem like fairies relative to the legends. A female sits on the back of my raised hand while a few others are also seated on the floor and we share a few jokes about humans (even though I am human). After being friends with them for awhile, they agree to take me to their planet to explore or perhaps to live for a time. (My conscious self identity is not extant, so I am unaware of my present life status of living in Australia and having a family.)

They eventually lead me into an old abandoned building, though of which they claim is their spaceship disguised as a building and which had been there for a long time. It reminds me of my high school in Florida in some ways. I go into a large old shower room with a concrete floor and with about four adjoining open showers, which is apparently an internal part of the spaceship supposedly near where the engine is. Interestingly, I suddenly and clearly realize that their intent is malicious (and that they are against humanity) and consider that I will probably be killed if I stay here, because I now understand that the building is not a spaceship, and I also realize that it is set to blow up very soon. I manage to escape just in time, feeling very intelligent by intuitively knowing of their deception. I am not sure if they were in the explosion or not, but it seems they might have been. A four-block area is destroyed by the explosion as I wake while on the perimeter of the area, feeling safe.

---

As with most of my non-lucid dreams of this type, this dream is about my lifelong experience of being subliminally aware of being in the dream state even when not lucid and as such, has nothing to do with “interpretation” (especially as usually misused to imply “meaning”) as commonly propagated by the unknowing (including so-called experts and professionals who usually have zero understanding of what a dream is). It is ultimately about my lifelong relationship with RAS (reticular activating system) and its mediation while unconscious. I have the choice of remaining in my fantastic dream or accepting the biological urge to wake and urinate.

The presence of the tiny people vivified my dream but not enough to trigger threads of conscious self identity, though did link me to a later setting (though of which we no longer live) and of which is a subliminal reminder that I am really unconscious and in a bedroom. The combined fantasy of aliens and fairies is obviously unrelated to real life. I deliberately (though again, subliminally, that is, without being aware I am dreaming) use this impossible scenario to sustain my dream. It is purposeful, but ultimately fails, as waking is a biological necessity.

Still, in subliminally avoiding the inevitability of waking, I ultimately end up in a shower room, associated with bathrooms, of course, during which RAS becomes the “enemy” in its role as the waking trigger.

Had I chosen to gone with the aliens in their spaceship (if my dream had taken this route), the vestibular system symbolism would have been utilized. (This is associated with various forms of movement, typically flight symbols such as birds and airplanes, though also the common falling sensation, which is solely biological.)

The explosion simply symbolizes the cessation of the dream state itself and my (subliminal) choice to end it. What could have been typical return flight waking symbolism transmuted to a more defined bathroom wake-up call.

---

Morning of March 7, 1997. Friday.



In my dream, I am apparently part of a science-fiction scenario, though it is not directly evidenced as being a movie in progress. Much of it seems impersonal and inconsequential to me despite the fanciful nature of the events. It is occurring in afternoon. The situation seemingly relates to invisible aliens coming to Earth to invade and conquer. However, the alien activity seems more like magic or perhaps even the work of one entity, though it is possibly just advanced technology that is being utilized. I feel vaguely puzzled about this situation, though I do not feel threatened at any time.

At one point, hot air balloons that first seem normal transform into brontosaurus shapes and eventually come down to land on the ground, becoming more lifelike. (Curiously, I do not make the association with parade balloons even though this was a probable influence.) Some people seem amused, others alarmed. (There is no focus on what may have happened to the people in the hot air balloons.) Some people remain in the area. Others flee. I remain impassive.

Another scene involves finding a business that may have been taken over and which is also corrupt. I burn some curtains by sending white lightning from my fingertips.

Don Knotts, another actor (possibly Andy Griffith), and I ride together in a car. The trip is uneventful.

There is also a scene where an unknown unfamiliar female has several guns in her house in preparation for the supposed increase of alien activity, which may change the nature of society. My dream fades with no dominant RAS mediation and a soft uneventful awakening.

---

Looking at very familiar symbolism in this dream, it is recognized that the depth of my sleep changed a few times, which affected my level of lucidity. The hot air balloons are a combined link to real-time vestibular system dynamics and depth of breathing while sleeping. The balloons coming down to land on the ground signifies sustaining the dream state rather than the waking transition being more imminent. Despite natural vestibular system ambiguity while unconscious, my dream held my focus of imagination with living dinosaurs and aliens, factors not related to waking life.

The main liminal space division (other than the basic implication of ground and sky) features in the scene where I direct lightning at the curtains. The curtains are implied to be over either a window or a door. The liminal space divider is that which keeps the dream self identity as uncoalesced with the conscious self identity (which is why opening a door, normally a dream’s implied exit point or otherwise a shift in the present level of unconsciousness, sometimes serves as apex lucidity induction for me). Additionally, lightning symbolizes neural energy. As my dream self has the ability to produce and direct lightning, I am attempting to bring additional threads of awareness into the dream state, but there is a biological factor that mediates my depth of sleep and level of awareness. My lucidity is only at about fifty percent in this scene where it otherwise remains much less.

Still, the natural RAS mediation never fully dominates. In the final scene, the preconscious takes the role of an unfamiliar female who never uses her guns, which means I allow myself to enter the waking transition without a need for prompting.

My understanding and acceptance of the natural stages of the sleep cycle (and the inevitability of waking) and the dream state in this case prevented a more violent scenario. However, there are many times when I challenge RAS (due to wanting to sleep longer or to hold full control over the dream state) which results in shooting all contents of the waking space (inconsequential of course, other than coloring my mood to seeing my final dream of the sleeping period as frustrating for a short time).

---

Morning of June 1, 1988. Friday.



This dream has very strange imagery and seems of the type where I am both disembodied as well as somehow “outside” my dream. I am apparently looking at a magazine (though it seems like a “real” scene as well, eventually), and focusing more and more on it. I see the “Dennis the Menace” character and he appears to be in a store, perhaps in preparation to look at or buy comic books, though his dog Ruff is also in the store and standing to his left (my right in perspective but a bit more in the foreground). I seem to be looking at a large colorful drawing or perhaps a sketchy oil painting by Hank Ketcham. (It somehow does not seem at all like part of a comic strip or comic book.)

The more closely I look over the scene, the more things seem “off” even though it seems “real”. Dennis the Menace has only one large eye on his forehead, which is somewhat dome-like and a sort of “sickly” brownish green. It may also be implied to be somewhat reflective (or mirror-like, though also “dirty” or murky). There are no other eye-like details, just the oval green “blob” on his forehead. This causes me to feel somewhat strange and out-of-place as if I am almost looking at something “wrongfully” otherworldly. I do not become lucid but begin to “understand” that everything is otherwise “normal” about this character’s drawing at this point in time. Prior to waking, it almost seems like the “real” Dennis may have been “taken over” by an alien threat (or at least as such relevant to semiconscious waking thoughts).

---

Explanations for this dream are not all that diffciult to determine. Firstly, dreams typically have surreal and bizarre imagery, often incidental, so this could just be a “glitch” as such. However, it could also be a play on the “third eye”. Dennis is not a real character, which could reflect the “unreal” dream state. The “eye” could also represent a “portal” (that is, the return to waking reality as my dream “melts” into one color and with less detail). Because of the color it may relate to looking down into the ground.

---

The “Dennis the Menace” comic panel prior to this date was a gag where he said “Guess what, mom! All the mirrors in the house look like ME!” - which may have vaguely influenced my dream on one level (and the one on this date - not yet seen at the time - having him ask Mr. Wilson, who is digging, “Who buries the worms here in the first place?” - nothing I know of relating to any “explanation” for this imagery other than the eye being partly mirror-like relating to a meditation I had been doing). I also had read many of the “Dennis the Menace” digests when younger but this is the only significant dream of this nature ever documented.

---

Update: On this date in 2001 (exactly 13 years after this dream), Hank Ketcham passed away. This makes both my dream and his own comic panel published on this date in 1988 seem a bit eerie (no disrespect intended).

Night of August 6, 1982. Friday.



This was one of those extremely common precognitive and remote viewing hybrids of a rather amusing and peculiar nature and the usual seemingly “pointless” regard that I have come to know so well since earliest memory - although another user on another dream journal site has clarified why this type of dreaming likely happens. Oddly, it is a similar process as to what eventually creates animals with amazing attributes regarding mimicry and camouflage. In other words, the dream state produces unusual mixed (and sometimes fantastically altered) composites of remote viewing, postcognition, and precognition until the consciousness is more defined via exercising the process of elimination (thereby leaving you more and more on your “correct” path by default).

It is seemingly based on the science-fiction short story “Arena” (by Fredric Brown), though I actually never read it even though I had it in a collection at one time. I am wandering around in the dream into an area of French Island that I had never been, which is a cluster of trees and high grasses which eventually leads into a more open area where boathouses can be seen on the other side of the Black River channel.

I hear an electronic (yet still discernible as male) voice that accuses me of “trespassing” and I recognize that it is not in my immediate surroundings. Off to the side, I notice what looks like a part of a “spaceship”. However, even though it looks a lot like a spaceship at first, it turns out to be some sort of set of bleachers for aliens from various planets to come to Earth and watch fights - some sort of gambling or “trade” arrangement.

After a short time, I find myself surrounded by these weird orange “bleachers” on three sides, with a sparse audience of odd-looking characters or the “aliens” aforementioned. I am then confronted by a robotic octopus (though more like a squid) of sorts. It has long tentacles (more like segmented cables) that are somewhat like the hose of a vacuum cleaner but about half the size and shiny and metallic. It spreads them out horizontally and southerly in my direction. I am able to avoid its attempted attacks by deliberately falling backwards and moving to different areas of the “arena”.

I am dressed differently as well, almost caveman-like (or in rags), partially covered in machine oil, and seem to be about ten years older. I seem to win somehow (or perhaps the robot malfunctions) but the dream becomes vague and meandering.

A day later, in real life, I decide to visit the area implied by the dream for the first time. I manage to walk off into a weedy area near the main road and eventually find my way walking through a more open area. Most of the weeds are higher than my head, but there is a clearing where there is less grass. I eventually notice large orange objects (and another structure) sticking out from one weedy area which appear to be man-made. Obviously, the dream comes back to me and for some inexplicable reason, I feel completely terrified and out-of-place. I even get the rather vague impression it could be a “craft” of some kind (even though I do not believe in alien visitations in spaceships).

However, it soon dawns on me, as I “bravely” investigate, that they are some sort of odd unfamiliar construction materials and utility items that I had not seen before (some of it being orange demolition stands/fencing, I think, but in odd uneven piles), and I had not heard anything about building being done in the area. There are about three or four piles of the materials, and farther on, stacks of odd-looking squarish lumber. There was also a broken piece that resembled the “tentacle” from the dream - possibly from an adjustable lamp, as there was a bit of other junk in one area (though it was not meant to be a dump). I still feel extremely strange for a short time (things of this nature had happened before, but this area actually seemed “off” to me for a short time). Realizing that I may be trespassing, I decide to keep going in a direction and area I had also never been in before and end up having to go back the way I came (due to the river disallowing farther travel and too many hazards). This was, in afterthought, a rather hilarious, though slightly unnerving experience.

This was a memorable experience, which shows that remote viewing in-dream sometimes alters an environment you have not been in - in a similar way that words you are not sure of the meaning of are given completely different meanings in-dream (the best example being my “Jacuzzi” dream).

Night of November 20/Morning of November 21, 1976. Sunday.



If you are easily disturbed, this is probably a good entry to give a miss. It is one of only a few of the more vivid nightmares I have had in my life - and probably relates to the physical changes during adolescence. (For example, dreams like “Silver Manta” and the first childhood “Haunted House” dream did not seem like an actual nightmare at all regardless of the scenario and emotions involved, but as inspiring adventures which I still have fond memories of.)

A large spaceship lands in my front yard at Cubitis, near the end of the driveway and a few feet from the highway. I do not actually see any aliens in the dream at any point, though. Actually, the ship seems more like some sort of “factory”, with a maze-like assembly-line (except that it is “dis-assembly”, so to speak.) that goes all about the internal perimeter of the squarish “flying saucer”.

What is vividly implied and shown from several angles (including from the side and from above) is with a first scene of a girl being carried (while lying on her side) down a conveyor belt (which is dotted sparsely with human blood and a few small scraps of clothes) within the spaceship. I am not sure who she is or where she came from. It reminds me of a miniature “car wash” to some extent (the part where she falls next may be vaguely related to the opening of “Land of the Lost”). She moves through a yellowish orange ribbon curtain into what looks like a chamber with an implied shallow well and there are robotic arms and such that seem to hurt her. Eventually I am aware she has been turned into “fuel” for the spacecraft, the body being shredded as through a high-tech food processor of sorts.

This happens with several people, mostly adults. Actually, I am not sure how I am seeing this. It is as if I am there in my “orb” form, but also in my bed at the same time (though not fully lucid, only partially questioning the events). The dream seems to reset several times during the night and very early morning. I am on the belt at some points, trying to work out why my bed is moving, but I usually will myself back to where I had been and never go through any “terror” from my own perspective.

As with most dreams throughout my life, even this dream had a layer of long-term precognition (which was actually the reason I started documenting dreams in the first place to try to work out the layers and “rules” if any, as it was so common). Several years later, I worked in a factory in Wisconsin and for the first time, was close in real life to very similar conveyor belts and (identical to the dream) vinyl (or vinyl-like) ribbon curtains at the end of a chemical wash for the metal parts. Around this same date years later, I took the place of a man (whose job was to simply place the metal sheets on a wooden shelf for a pallet as they came out on the belt) who had cut himself very badly on the hand (supposedly losing a finger from what one worker said though I am not one hundred percent sure now) and the blood (and a couple pieces of his white work glove) was still on the conveyor. I guess they did not want to lose any production time (relative to parts for Ford Taurus cars).

Night of July 29, 1972 to morning of July 30, 1972. Saturday night to Sunday morning (my dream had at least two “resets” and recurrences).



Finding things or validating unfamiliar scenes directly after dreaming specifically of them (typical precognitive and remote viewing hybrid) and with additional meaningful synchronicity:

Additional notes: While doing more research on my important clarifications and revisions (due to it being one of thousands of records that for me validate remote viewing and precognition hybrids - the main governing purpose of dreams), I discovered an additional oddity. This dream was obviously, in part, influenced by “War of the Worlds” (1953), seen earlier this day (July 29), as well as part of the “Miss Universe Beauty Pageant” prior to sleeping. What I found was that “War of the Worlds” originally premiered on July 29, 1953 in Atlantic City, New Jersey. However, my seeming placement in New Jersey at one point in my dream may actually be due to my association with Spooky the Tuff Little Ghost’s supposed “New Joisey” accent, and the television station likely showing it on this date purposely as an anniversary tribute (otherwise the odds are 1 in 365 by chance alone). Even so, it does imply synchronicity for me, albeit, in a more subtle way.

The Pink Machine Gun:

In my dream as a boy (age eleven, and during summer break), I had a toy machine gun that I was somehow able to defend myself with against invading hostile aliens (even though it did not fire “real” ammunition in-dream - it just made that clacking sound) - though the events sometimes seemed to be in the early 1950s (I do note 1953 on one billboard) as if out of a movie - and at times, perceived from a secondary perspective (for example, I watch myself look over a precipice at one point, viewing this from a lower perspective). At one point, the aliens seem to be “invading” a beauty pageant, yet remain mostly unseen. They are more human in appearance than the ones from “War of the Worlds”.

The toy machine gun had that pinkish Pepto-Bismol color like certain other features that were in my dreams at times (often the result of a mild stomachache during sleep), but eventually was a darker green. That (having a toy gun or even a real one and fighting the “enemy”) is probably a fairly common dream theme for a boy (or for that matter, anyone). However, my dream introduced a certain special feeling, an overwhelming curiosity about the real world relative to a certain location and the realization there were areas close-by I had not fully explored. I was also walking through a large round culvert as if going between towns or safer locations (though the one near our house in reality, you could only crawl through with difficulty).

I suppose aliens actually represent everyman from my view - or “normal” people and mainstream consensus. Because of my continuous so-called unusual and unexplainable experiences over every day of my life, even more so due to their continuous additional validations (thus discounting the typical “imagination” or “coincidence” cop outs), it makes sense that I see a greater part of the human race as “alien”.

In real life, solely due to my dream, I was compelled by the dream “residue” to explore our culvert in Cubitis. I had never been down to and certainly not inside the one in the front area of our house but I decided to try it. In the very middle (and I had to crawl in - my mother warned me later not to go in there again due to possible pesticide runoff) and found a section of a toy machine gun; the handle and some other parts that looked fairly old and a larger spring, the remains of which had the “presence” of what I had actually felt in my dream. I kept it for a few weeks out of curiosity but eventually threw it out. How it got in there, especially that far, I have no idea, probably a boy that had lived in the area years prior - an engraved date on one piece was 1953. The concrete block house itself was fairly new, newer than the culvert and highway.

Morning of November 7, 1970. Saturday.



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



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

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

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

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

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

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