Blue_Opossum

Morning of July 23, 2018. Monday.

Dream #: 18,844-06. Reading time: 26 sec.



I talk with our oldest son about audio recordings.

Zsuzsanna had some of her cassettes and 45 rpm records out.

Much of what I say is nonsensical, and although I am unsure of how correct it is, I continue to try to resolve what I am saying. My idea is that music is magnetic and sticks to the nearest objects, which is supposedly a factor in the production of records and cassettes.

Although cassette recordings near magnets can lose their content, I am unable to explain that. Our son appears to be puzzled as I talk about how sound remains on records because of a magnetic field. He does not debate.

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Morning of November 2, 2016. Wednesday.



In my dream, I find myself in an unfamiliar room in an unknown setting that has the appearance of an efficiency apartment (though my dream self does not perceive it as unfamiliar). Dennis (older half-brother on my mother’s side, of whom I have not seen in real life since 1994) is present but appears as he did in the 1970s. There is also an unknown and unfamiliar male present of about Dennis’s age, presumed (by my dream self) to be either his visiting friend or flatmate. However, it remains uncertain if my dream is otherwise implying the apartment to be mine.

Dennis and I enter into an argument when I play “Nights in White Satin” (a song by the Moody Blues) on a cassette player that sits atop a low-set chest of drawers that faces the foot of the bed, though more to the right. Dennis says it is not the original version. I tell him and the other male that they must have only heard later shortened versions. One point made is that Dennis says there are no helicopter sounds in the original version. I tell him that he is wrong. (However, I am thinking of the movie “Apocalypse Now” and the “Ride of the Valkyries” score and somehow confusing it with “Nights in White Satin”, though the similarity between these two recordings is otherwise minimal.)

I am able to sarcastically, with amusement, vocalize the background motif in inverse (that is, with the staff flipped upside-down so that any sequence of increasingly higher notes go down in pitch and decreasing notes go higher in pitch). I am fully aware of how it would sound as such. The other two look on, seeming annoyed, as I repeat that this is the correct version while implying they may have heard the inverted one. I awake with a sense of joy and an instant recognition of my dream’s meaning.

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Decoding template follows:

• Dream type and explanation: This dream uses “return flight waking symbolism”, which is created when the physicality of the conscious self identity is ambiguously perceived prior to the RAS (reticular activating system) neural gating that regulates the sleep-wake transition. Consequently, the dream self identity subliminally anticipates falling, rising, sustained flight, or other illusory movement based on the misperception of the vestibular system’s equilibrium dynamics.
• Dream state induction type: Transmutation of our bed as a subliminal dream state indicator, created as a result of the subliminal memory of being asleep.
• Dream state indicators: The bed and the song “Nights in White Satin”.
• Liminal space symbol: The beach (unseen yet implied), which represents the neural space between sleeping and waking. The relationship to the flight symbol is that the helicopters (in the movie) fly towards the beach and over land from the water (water of which symbolizes sleep and the circadian rhythms dynamics of the dream state and the glymphatic system).
• Preconscious factor: My dream self is already in the emergent consciousness role, which is validated by my subliminal recognition of both dream state indicators. It is otherwise the preconscious that is dominant over the dream self to initiate waking.
• Interconsciousness factor: The unknown male in the background of whose presence does not otherwise trigger a known dream state component.
• Liminal space cessation trigger: The line “Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore” from “Nights in White Satin”. The liminal space cessation trigger is that which begins to break the illusion of the dream state, sometimes symbolized by a jigsaw puzzle or a breaking window.
• Flight symbol to dream exit point (symbolic waking transition): The (unseen) helicopter as “returning” me to my bed, symbolized in my dream by the unfamiliar bed of the efficiency apartment. (Note that I sit on the foot of the bed, right side, just as I do with my real bed in waking life.) The helicopter rotor system symbolizes kinocilia in the same way as a tornado in the dream state. (However, at a spiritual level, for those who follow the path, it also represents the Merkaba as a tornado also does.)
• Waking symbolism is typically oriented to the right, which is the location of the cassette player as perceived from the bed.

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Morning of October 23, 2013. Wednesday.



In a dream that seems somewhat age-angst-relevant (concerned about getting older I suppose, not “old”, just older), I am back in school, but it is not any school I ever went to and my classmates are all unfamiliar. There are about seven or eight students (at least three females and a few males) and my mother (who died years ago) is also there. It almost seems to be a music studio in my home in Cubitis as well as my mother’s last room in Wisconsin at a sister’s house before moving into the Manor. A taller dark-haired female (completely unfamiliar in all ways) who seems to be someone important to me talks with me. Later, just as the school day is an hour from ending, I start to get annoyed for some reason, wondering what I am doing there. My mother asks a different taller dark-haired girl (who has her back to me and looking at a computer, as are most of the others - with about five or six computers in the room, which I never saw growing up in reality) about something in a way that seems to imply she is trying to be a “matchmaker” somehow and mistaking her for the other girl - asking her something about an e-mail address or something, I think. I am rather annoyed and shaking my head and trying to get her attention away from her and make subtle hints about it being the other girl (which really makes no sense at all from my perspective) without anyone knowing the person has (or could have) a connection to me.

I get more and more annoyed, the most annoyed being from a cassette tape that I had recorded a lot of music on and it (the tape itself) turns into tangled yellow felt inside the cassette case (which makes no sense - I have had brand new “dud” tapes in real life but not like this - I also have had tapes get “eaten” in real life years ago, but it has not been a concern for about fifteen years or so - and why would I try to record on felt anyway - I have worked with felt and wonder why people ever bother to use it - it is extremely fragile and very short-lasting). I get the feeling, that, even though it seems I have two or three years of school left that I am “never going back” (which I say in my dream) and am “done with it all” as well as the seeming two weeks for the particular “class” I am in at the time. It seems rather final and even positive in some ways (but considering it also seems to be at my own house, it makes no sense). After a time, as I am waking, I realize I am not a young teenager, but am fairly “old” and feel quite strange as if I had moved briskly through time. Not really a regret, just wondering what had happened.

“Red tape” is the idiom that refers to excessive regulation or rigid conformity to formal rules considered redundant or bureaucratic though there may be a subtle association with the “yellow tape” - possibly also a subtle relevance to “yellow pages” and communication. Felt may relate to feeling as in human feeling or feeling healing (though again, I see it as fragile and very short-lasting).

Morning of May 21, 1997. Wednesday.

There is an unknown music store I go into that does not sell cassette tapes anymore. Cassettes seem to be obsolete, perhaps even for recording. They seem so much out of use that it is possible I am in a futuristic setting.

At one point, I go over an underground bridge that is a part of the music store. The owner is an unfamiliar black male. There are a lot of different kinds of music.

One unknown male has found his first CD, it seems. It is one that he had apparently not found or seen anywhere else. Certain other people seem to think the CDs are also to become obsolete. I wander around but do not purchase anything.

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