Morning of February 23, 2018. Friday. In the first part of my dream, I am sitting on the floor of the Gellibrand Street apartment’s porch. (We have not lived there in years.) I am looking through and reading some coupons relating to free offers. By writing down four letters which appear on the coupon, KLRS, and then the next letter after each, underneath, LMST, it somehow causes a package to be immediately sent to our front door, though I do not open it as I focus on the unusual nature of this puzzling technology. I begin to ponder on how the company would know what I wrote in a notebook in my own home. I later write LMPR, and MNQS underneath. (Throughout my dream, I clearly read and write uppercase letters which remain the same, which is atypical of the dream state, as writing typically changes in many dreams when looking back at it again.) A handwritten message appears above the letters relating to the activation of a special offer. Similar events occur a few more times. I begin to wonder more about how this is possible. The setting changes (without my dream self paying much attention) to an unfamiliar location. It is a large room with a table. Dennis (an older half-brother on my mother’s side ) is present. (I have not seen him in real life since 1994.) I tell Dennis about the companies and clubs that somehow cause handwritten messages to appear in my notebook. I look through my notebook and, for a time, cannot find the evidence, though I eventually do and show him. One message is on what looks like black embossing tape with white letters. It easily comes off the page. Dennis is curious, but I consider he may not be convinced of this inexplicable technology. “Watch this,” I tell him. Instead of getting a code from a coupon, I make up a sequence. I write NOPQ, but decide to change it to LMNR, as I consider the code would probably not have four letters in a row in alphabetical order as such, even though they are otherwise in an alphabetical sequence. I then write MNOS underneath. A handwritten message appears out of nowhere that displays something like, “Thank you for activating your membership.” I use NORS, OPST underneath, and a similar message appears. I ask Dennis, “How are they doing this?” He does not reply. I use MNOS a few times (with NOPT), each time on a different page, and the same message appears above what I had written, relating to benefits of membership activation, though I eventually get, “You have already activated your membership. Thanks for your participation.” I start to consider that there may be hidden cameras everywhere. This seems to “explain” it, though I forget about the unlikelihood of writing appearing on paper from no discernible source. I write MNOS again and NOPT underneath. A large moving image of a Doberman Pinscher’s head appears on the wall. It is as if a film is being shown; the aspect ratio is square. The dog is apparently barking, but there is no sound. I perceive this as some sort of function to express a warning about repeatedly using the same code to activate something that had already been activated. There is no sense of threat at any time or any genuine wariness. In fact, I find it somewhat amusing even if it is inexplicable. Again, I ask Dennis, “How are they doing this?” There is now also an unfamiliar male in the room who I do not see as an imposer or related to the inexplicable events. I consider that he may be puzzled as well. Dreams are mainly ascending reticular activating system mediation (and modulation when the dream self by way of subliminal conscious self intent attempts to remain asleep) between transient dream self and whole conscious self identity, primarily being autosymbolism for consciousness reascension while subliminally exploring the dream state. Why so many people completely ignore this truth in favor of asinine pretense (often focusing on negative dynamics even where there are none) has baffled me since childhood. My development since early childhood, in understanding the dream state (and dismissing the tripe of books on the “meanings” of dreams while even marrying my literal “dream girl” in real life), has resulted in an extraordinary virtuous circle effect as seen in this dream, even though my dream self remains puzzled about the communication from my conscious self. Yes, that is what is happening. My conscious self is sending threads of communication (by way of the ECF, emergent consciousness factor, in RAS mediation) to my dream self to enhance skills which typically do not exist in the dream state (though some asinine individuals make the ridiculous claim that one cannot read in the dream state at all). It has nothing to do with “messages from the subconscious”, as my dream self IS the subconscious (and the subconscious is a dynamic band that has no viable temporality or consistent intelligence). Aside from that, only the conscious self has viable reasoning skills, including coherent perception of the written language, and yet here, my dream self maintains (again through the virtuous circle effect of having devoted much of my life to dream state study and enhancement of the dream state) some extent of control and feasible discernment regardless of not being viably lucid. The dog in the final scene represents the obedience factor (as I have explained in my journal many times before) as well as this dream’s WAF (waking alert factor) by way of my subliminal attempt to sustain the dream state. The wall is a liminal space divider between dream self and conscious self identity. The (transpersonal) preconscious personification (the unfamiliar male in the room) remains passive in my dream self’s subliminal activity until I wake.
Updated 02-26-2018 at 08:37 AM by 1390
Morning of May 1, 2015. Friday. Much of this dream was a bit too abstract to describe the first part of correctly. All the members of my family and I are making things to sell. We seem to be at a picnic table outside in our backyard. The most vivid part does not make any sense. I have made a salad with a lot of leafy green vegetables in it as well as other ingredients such as slices of tomatoes. I pick up a short section of a large even branch from the ground which has seemingly been sawed on both ends. It is a little less than the diameter of my arm. (We do have a short log in our yard in reality but it is bigger than the piece in my dream.) I put the salad on the branch (though I think of it as a small log in my dream) and hold it onto the branch piece with the curved piece of wood (which fits halfway around the circumference of the branch) over all of it. I notice that the wood piece has three screws on it which are aligned to three holes in the branch (one near each side and one in the middle). By tightening the screws, the salad will be kept in place on the surface of the branch by the curved piece of wood until it is ready to be eaten. I notice a small jumping spider crawling up the side of the branch and shake it off - as people will probably not buy it if it has a spider on the salad. (I have found that the term “salad log” exists, so maybe there is a vague association, though I do not recall thinking of this term at any previous time.) In another section of possibly a different dream sequence, I am doing something involving the usage of postage stamps while sitting on a bed, which seem to have to be American postage stamps to do what I need to do, but there is one point where I cannot find them again (which does not make much sense as I had just seen them previously, having had at least a couple near me). I seem to be in my sister’s house on Loomis Street and am possibly a teenager again. I am not exactly sure of what I am doing. It may relate to drawing or tracing. At one point, I am standing in a featureless semi-dark room and hug my sister and tell her that I love her even though I am also aware to some extent that she has died in reality. She seems very old and frail. There is some sort of concern about where certain stamps are. I pick various foreign ones off the floor at one point. They seem to be kept in a few different smaller cylindrical containers. My sister talks about them but is not sure of their location. In another part of my dream sequence, I am in a large room with several other people. Many of the people are unknown and of different races. We are all watching “Lost” on a television. However, it is a later version of “Lost”, yet which is a drama concerning earlier situations on the island. Over time, I notice that John Locke is not being played by Terry O'Quinn but a much younger actor. I notice that he has face paint of black and red (and yellow at one point), the black paint being mostly on his forehead and coming down to just below his eyes. He is amusingly dressed and speaking like a stereotypical pirate for some reason and says “Rrrrrr…” at the end of at least one comment he makes. I am a bit annoyed by this version of “Lost” having the same characters but played by different actors, my annoyance growing over time, which I express to the others. I even look it up on the Internet in-dream to see who the actor is that now plays John Locke. However, I cannot remember the original actor’s name and become a bit frustrated over knowing when the different actor took over the role. I see that there is a (fictional) eighth season of “Lost” and possibly more beyond that. In fact, the eighth season seems to have been the last one to star Terry O'Quinn, the plot of the last episode of season eight seeming to relate to Kate and John becoming lost. Finally, I am at my older brother (deceased) Earl’s house. I do not see him, but his wife Cindy is there. There are a lot of other people in the room including their children and unknown younger people. I am annoyed because Cindy is blocking my way to the front door (even though we are more near the center of the living room near a large table) but I do not show my frustration. I had taken a couple vitamins that are more like headache tablets and there is white powder on the table which I am trying to put back into a capsule or at least elsewhere. (I have never been able to willingly swallow pills of any kind in my life, even very small ones, so I crush headache tablets up into white powder and put them in a drink when I need to take them although I more often use a form of special meditation to erase one when I can.) In one final dream event, an unknown male knocks on the door and seems to have something important to tell me. However, it soon turns out to be nonsense (which I cannot remember) and he becomes distracted, going elsewhere. This was slightly precognitive in that we actually did have a rare visitor shortly after but he left fairly quickly after knocking. He went to the next house over and was probably selling pay television subscriptions or possibly Internet-related services.
Morning of October 28, 2014. Tuesday. Dream #: 17,480-02. Reading time: 1 min 20 sec. I am in Cubitis. It seems to be around 1974, and I am about thirteen years old. The chicken shed is still a rabbit shed. We are going to be moving soon. (We did not move to Wisconsin until the last days of June of 1978.) There is a backstory regarding my unwillingness to accept our rabbits being sold (which seems to imply that we cannot move until we sell the business). I am in our rabbit shed and see a man and woman in their thirties. They are possibly going to buy most or all of our rabbits. They are in the west area of our shed (that is bigger in my dream) as if I am on the set of a television studio news broadcast, even though I am only talking to them on the telephone. There is an unseen presence of which I am unsure. It seems to be an older version of me or representing a narrator of my dream. I am told to act as if I am incompetent. As I talk to the buyers, I pretend to stutter and stop in the middle of sentences. I invent false scenarios about our rabbits and our shed. Still, they do not seem to be discouraged from buying. I talk about how mice mix with our rabbits. It seems to be one of the most ridiculous and off-putting things I can say. Eventually (through the uncovered lower area of the shed, between the columns), I notice rabbits hopping around outside and decide to go to the backyard after declaring that all of them are escaping, so there will not be any for them to buy. I see my father, but I do not recall he died years ago. The physical orientation I feel is quite vivid at this point. From here, I enter the typical sensual stage of encountering a younger version of my wife and indulge in an embrace. In a false awakening of lesser vividness, I tell Zsuzsanna about this dream.
Updated 11-09-2019 at 11:13 AM by 1390
Morning of December 2, 1972. Saturday. I am at some sort of business possibly on the second floor, in a large room, which seems like some sort of larger composite that includes my Cubitis bedroom. The orientation seems to be that I am looking south throughout my dream, associating it with my classroom as well (to a lesser extent). Behind an unknown older male in a darker blue business suit who is standing near a large desk (about four times bigger than office desks I have seen in television shows and at school) is a very large wall-spanning map of the world. It looks a bit different at different times. There is also a large globe on the left that reminds me of a recent one I received as a combined birthday and Christmas (December 20th and 25th) package in the mail from my sister Carol. The concept of whatever is going on is not very coherent. It is something to do with the “real” Atlas - the giant man that supposedly holds the planet Earth on his shoulders. I am not sure this is literal or some sort of metaphorical model but what I do know is that there is some sort of potential problem regarding the business (due to not operating twenty-four hours a day or some such) and something related to how the countries are to be displayed. This seems to be in regard to some sort of rental payment required to be displayed or acknowledged on the globe. At one point, the globe seems to be mostly only wire-framed and missing most of the surface detail due to the business doors being closed for Christmas vacation. I am not directly involved in anything. There is a sense of misdirected wariness that this business may be making Atlas irritated so that some countries or regions may experience problems such as earthquakes or floods or that Atlas may become annoyed at having to observe long business meetings from wherever he actually is. Again, I am not sure how literal this association with the “real” Atlas is. However, the main theme seems to be that Atlas was doing fine until certain people “invaded” his day to day duty and turned it into a profiteering venture. There is even a lesser idea that a “rotational tax” has to be paid by everyone to keep the world turning on its axis, since they are the ones that claim they are keeping the world rotating (this seems to be in conflict with the static image of Atlas holding up the world - as such, how would it rotate?).