Blue_Opossum

Morning of July 21, 2015. Tuesday.



I am semi-lucid but do not rise to full lucidity and just let my dream render the settings and circumstances automatically (without any previous scripting). I first find myself with my wife and three youngest children, as they seem to be ready to go to a park, though I falsely “know” it is south of our home rather than north (something dreams do a lot). I am deciding if I should go with them, as it seems to keep “resetting” over time, even though, at one level, I know that there is no park south of us. (The orientation is mirrored rather than rotated, as the front door seems to the south instead of north as well, yet immediate surroundings are otherwise mostly correct.)

In the next scene, I examine a very old large hardcover book (which is somewhat worn) which I was apparently sent in the mail recently. It is based somewhat on the concept of friendship books (FBs) from years ago that many people send on as they are supposed to, though there are always those who do not “get it” and keep them. The book seems to contain ghost stories and mysteries of perhaps a few pages each, and over many years from different amateur writers. I, as well, have a thought in my mind that I could keep the book, though I am not sure if that would be fair or right. Upon looking more closely, I see that several pages from a modern notebook (including the notebook’s cover) had been stapled on as the front cover (the real front cover seemingly missing), though it is partly coming off. I am trying to decide if it is just the notebook pages I should fill out (with my name and address) and send on after detaching the already loose staples, or the old book as well. Obviously, if each person is to add a story to the book, it needs to be sent on, yet the scene is somewhat ambiguous, especially as only the last few pages are blank. I already have the book, yet there is a statement on one of the first notebook pages expressing that you should write why you think your story should be included in the book, which contradicts why I received it in the first place.

The first page of the book has about a hundred small signatures in various styles of handwriting going back to the late 1700s. I see the names “James” and “John” (though do not recall the last names) but do not attempt to focus on the entire long list. Each one had been an author of a story in the book. I remain perplexed and my dream shifts.

I am then with my (deceased) sister on Loomis and Gillette and asking her about the changes that have occurred. I notice the area on the east side of Loomis looks very different. Instead of the neighbor’s house that was there on the corner, it appears to be an old church with all the windows sealed up with concrete blocks and the entire building painted over - which is actually like a real building across from my childhood (short-term) home on North Monroe in Florida, where people went a bit “off” and sealed the church possibly due to belief in “evil spirits”. (I am not sure of this, but I know that some people actually believe in such things, though I cannot imagine why.) She talks to me about it though it takes a little time to dawn on me that the whole area is not of the original buildings. There is also a strange “sign” made of three-dimensional letters (though I do not know the phrase as I am mostly perpendicular to it) that runs north to south along the east side of Loomis, that is, just the phrase sitting upright (vertically) over the lawns, somewhat like a miniature (but longer) version of the “Hollywood” sign, about chest-high. I do not bother to walk over and read it. Our conversation is not that vivid though my sister seems to be expressing puzzlement about my not knowing of the (fictional) changes, and my dream shifts again.

Finally, I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in a mostly undefined setting. I notice that her face is glowing in a similar manner as when someone shines a flashlight from under their chin in a dark room, though in photographic negative, though with correct colors, so that the light both appears to come from inside as well as the colors rendered correctly (instead of with blue skin as would otherwise be the case). She is smiling intensely. “That’s sexy,” I say, though I am not sure of the dynamics of the setting (which seems indoors and outdoors at the same time) and my dream finally fades.