Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 1, 2018. Wednesday.

Reading time: 48 sec. Readability score: 76.



I am in a setting that is reminiscent of the “Gunsmoke” (television series) set, outside of the Long Branch Saloon. It seems to be morning.

A rendering of the interconsciousness is present. It is an unknown male of about twenty years old who is standing in the street as I sit on the curb. The man does not seem familiar in any way.

He is talking to me about another unknown male who had left the area. I have no focus or recall of a backstory. I have to ask him to repeat certain words and information several times. (This is typical of this stage of the dreaming process. In many cases, I perceive it as gibberish.)

He tells me that the other male had gone to Perth. He has gone to see a band called “Sister Cities.” (I do not know of any group with this name.)

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I am going to assume this is a random thread from the interconsciousness, that may or may not have anything to do with me. It is a different process than when I force a preconscious avatar to respond in a certain way or when I use my mental voice to speak through my emerging consciousness.

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Morning of June 22, 2016. Wednesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and family and I as we are now are at a large unfamiliar park, though perhaps implied to be in Brisbane. It is somewhat like a composite of the South Bank and Nundah parks. After a time, a group of unknown people start to gather under a shelter. This seems to be related to the beginning of a concert.

It seems to be nighttime at first, perhaps around nine o'clock. We listen to the music for a time. Our children stand to our right. We are not actually under the shelter at this point but just on the outer perimeter of it.

Burl Ives, or someone much like him in this case, eventually shows up and there is the option to go with him on some sort of tour of the area. Zsuzsanna and I and a number of other people join the group. At this point, our children apparently remain behind, although our two oldest are with the younger ones.

We are eventually on a bus going up a hill. Somehow, the time is now late morning or afternoon since it is now daylight. After a time, the bus transforms into a jeep and Zsuzsanna and I are sitting in the front to the right of the driver (which is the wrong orientation if assuming an Australia vehicle). The jeep goes over a narrow road and into a fissure; between two high rock faces (which almost come up to the sides of the jeep), right to the edge of a cliff - and I almost think we are going over and that it is meant to be the purpose and climax of the supposed tour. I see the view far below, mostly of forests and ravines. Soon though, the jeep backs up and I hear an unknown voice behind me say, “Oh, we are backing up now” as if they are relieved our tour did not include going over the cliff. “This is a really stupid way to make a road,” I say assertively.

However, the jeep, after backing out from the fissure, is then driven in a perpendicular direction and comes to a stop just before going off another part of the cliff. Again, I contemplate if we are going over but instead the driver backs up a bit and turns and goes down the road and back into town. Having had enough of this “tour”, I leave the jeep as it is still going down the street and somehow end up on my own in an unusual fancy building, which is apparently closed at the time. I try to find a door out of the building to go home (as I am also concerned about where our children are) but I end up only going into what seem like business offices. One room has a male and female who do not regard me. I then turn and go down a hall and somehow (by force of will even though I am not at all lucid) create a door into a portico which leads into a parking lot. It is now nighttime again (and thus Ed Wood must be directing this dream as often seems the case with illogical sudden switches from night to day and back again during the same shorter time period).

As I walk through the parking lot, Zsuzsanna is walking to my right as if she had been there all along. I am still concerned about our children’s safety, particularly our youngest daughter. As I continue to walk I realize that Zsuzsanna is still speaking to me even though she is now a mostly yellow (emergent consciousness color) cylindrical music box of the windup type that holds and rotates a baby cot mobile. I accidentally drop her on a parking block as I am stepping over it. I feel bad and hope she still works. I hear her musical whirring and realize she may recover.

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Firstly, a parking lot represents the liminal space between dreaming and waking and is always an element of the waking precursor for me. Many of my dreams end in a parking lot setting because of the symbolic association between being “elsewhere” (in the dream state) and from there will go “home” (real physical body) even though there is no car association here (and I am inclined to now believe that a parking block may be analogous to a pillow as a dream sign in at least some cases). This last part was also indirectly precognitive as our youngest daughter was slightly injured by falling on a music box (though was not hurt that much). The loose patterns included the music box, the association with a baby or young child, and being hurt in a fall. My dream however, though it foreshadowed the event correctly on one level, used completely different connections.

What I find very curious here is how the typical falling start (waking point) was “stopped” twice before I took action to go into a different level of consciousness (though I sometimes deliberately jump from cliffs to enter an enhanced flying mode), which then foreshadowed an event from today. I was unable to prevent it, but I still find it very interesting and typical of the unexplainable facets that occur in some dream types.

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Morning of May 12, 2015. Tuesday.



I had a very peaceful and enjoyable long dream considering the recent NBN fiasco just outside our window where there was also a long loud argument later today between a young female and a lineman about why the telephones were not back on after a day.

In my dream, I am in Tel Aviv, Israel with my wife and several people I knew more about in my school days, ready to become involved in a long music concert as the main performer (and I switch instruments at times). Some first members of the audience (mostly female in traditional Persian dress for some reason) stand on a mezzanine viewing us getting together on the first floor stage (though there are eventually more people on the first floor prior to the concert beginning). This makes me slightly wary at first, though I feel very assertive and confident throughout the rest of my dream even though things seem weird on a secondary level at times (like a wavering dream within a dream that is somewhat like having two or more dreams at the same time; fairly rare, but experienced enough to know the phenomenon in a familiar sense).

My dream concert follows the general pattern of a recurring song set which varies in some versions of the scenario. Before we start, I notice two (unfamiliar) dark-haired girls, seated on the floor and leaning against the wall, who seem to be faithful fans of my group, though the group does not even seem to have a name (at least not one I can remember in this case). Oddly, one of the girls is wearing sunglasses, which takes me a moment to perceive as such - because the sunglasses have painted-on human eyes, a bit larger than normal, so that her appearance is somewhat eerie. The other girl is missing her left eye, which instead, is a mostly featureless area with barely discernible wrinkles. I do not comment on either oddity. There is also a light-haired girl who seems a bit too pale and I ask her where she is from. She comments that she does not actually live in Israel but that her family is on a vacation.

I notice a male seated at a picnic table and facing me (though talking to others on his right about technical details of our upcoming show) at the second picnic table back on the opposite side from me. He is seemingly a member of my music group and I contemplate whether or not he is Orlando Jones (the actor from “Sleepy Hollow”; the television series) or my friend from middle school days who is now a well-known singer in Germany in real life. I conclude that he is my old friend Roosevelt and it is very good to see him here.

When we are ready, we seem to go into ad-lib or practice modes now and then, making the songs quite a bit longer and more interesting, with many dynamics that are not in the original recordings. These new versions of the songs (via my imagination) have gradually built up over the years, becoming more and more theatrical and intriguing in their fullness. At one point, an unknown older male with a harmonica infuses some additional nice-sounding impromptu bars. In the offset (dream within a dream) there is the focus on at least two members playing cereal boxes like guitars, held at an angle. Guitar-like music can still be heard in this case.

The first song performed is “Speak to the Sky” (originally done by Rick Springfield), which typically starts out with me playing the opening on a banjo and soon joined in crescendo (in the next verse) by drums, keyboards, and other vocalists (doing occasional intense harmonics that repeat part of a phrase I sing now and then, such as “I am blind” just after my phrasing, or fuller phrases such as “seems awful hard to find” at the same time as my phrasing). The audio of my voice seems amazingly well-rendered in my dream but does not sound like my real voice and also has an unidentifiable accent (almost like a composite of French and Romanian) - and there are also a few unusual “glitches” here and there (typical of dreams). However, in this particular dream, instead of a banjo, it seems I am actually playing the opening on a ukelele with somewhat of an odd muted sound at one point (though there are a few “resets” and offset “dream within a dream” sections). (“Doesn’t always rhyme” is usually done with more of a longer pentuplet feel, requiring a brief change in the otherwise 4/4 timing.)

The second song we perform is “Dear Prudence” (originally a Beatles song), where I start out playing something that sounds a bit like the style of Jeff Lang (the best slide guitarist I have ever heard) but then I quickly switch to an electric bass by grabbing it from the person on my left when the song changes from the sustained beginning bass notes to the intimate, almost overwhelming bass riff (possibly one of the best bass lines I have ever heard, the second being from Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sheriff”).

After the first two songs (and in one “reset” there are also unusual-sounding horn sections - almost cinematic in style), my dream begins to decay into unusual “resets” and repeating patterns and becoming somewhat abstract, but remains a very positive dream experience until I wake.