Blue_Opossum

Night of September 2, 2018. Sunday.

Reading time: 2 min 28 sec. Readability score: 64.



I decide to create an earth-like planet (a typical exercise) and, within my implied position in outer space, pull it towards me and push it away from my view several times. It relates to a specific type of dream state perception where passive observation and creation are ambiguously the same. For example, I may “pull” the background closer to me rather than enter into it.

In an undefined but “patchy” unlit space, I practice rotating the view to the right about 45 degrees, then to the left. I shake it side to side rather than attempt to move my head. I push and pull the “patchy” undefined space towards me and push it back as I did with the planet exercise. I create a solid green square and make it go side to side (leftmost and rightmost) with little effort. I mentally shake it until it breaks up into smaller squares. There is the usual segment where diamonds rapidly flip over each other.

I create a castle. I open an outer brick wall about two storeys up to practice the manipulation of liminal space division. The hole in the outer wall is diamond-shaped. I mentally pull out the bricks and put them back into the wall several times, with no effort, only expectation of what I want. I spin individual ones in midair while turning all of them in rotation like a tank tread before they uniformly join into a solid wall again. While the hole is there, an unidentifiable female avatar remains motionless inside that room.

I create a rainy alley scene, like out of a 1940s gangster movie. A black 1947 Cadillac Fleetwood pulls up. Three unfamiliar men get out. I decide to make the scenario into something different. Now, three young girls in 1970s jumpsuits approach. The one in the middle ahead of the other two pauses and turns around. I notice her hair moves in the wind like a fire. The imagery begins to spin and shine, the helicopter rotor effect, and turns into a stained-glass spinning kaleidoscopic view, expanding into a different state of awareness, though is three-dimensional rather than a flat field. I joyfully watch this surreal imagery for several minutes.

I hover and fly over beautiful rocky landscapes with rivers of mist.

I start playing around with a four-feet-high egg in the same way I did with the brick wall earlier. Similarly shaped pieces of the eggshell break out and move about in the air in a circular pattern, reminiscent of a mosaic taking itself apart and rebuilding itself, but I will them back into place several times as if the egg had never started to hatch. Each time, only a pair of human eyes is visible from inside the egg, though different each time. (This stage of dreaming has occurred on a regular basis for over fifty years. Eyes are usually the most realistically defined imagery.) I then start to realize that an egg, at least in some manifestations, is the same type of perceptual liminal space division as is a brick wall; pieces of the egg, bricks of the wall, break out, reconstruct.

Eventually, a young version of Medusa is present upon my summoning. I focus on the intricacy of her hair. Hundreds of tiny snakes move about atop her head. There is no fear or concern. I marvel at the detail of her costume and headband. Eventually, the snakes are intricate braids of human hair. A turquoise stone is in her headband. I deliberately suck in and inhale its essence as a mist that has healing properties.

I create another earth-like planet. It cracks into smaller pieces at the top, and I pull cotton out of it.

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Morning of August 17, 2015. Monday.



This is my first stable dream of this time period on this date, a type which is always lucid - every first dream I have had since early childhood has been of this nature, every single night, with no attempt to make it so, and always in the first stage of light sleep paralysis which I enjoy - I do not attempt to control it in anyway during the first stage - I just flow with it and enjoy it even if the imagery should be grotesque beyond imagination. The imagery, I suppose, this time, is somewhat nightmarish (in regards to how others might see it), but not a nightmare at all to me. There is no emotion other than a sense of peace and acceptance. In this state, even being fully in-body, there is no way a lucid dream could integrate or interfere with my real-life state. I mostly just watch. I am not even regarded by the entity that is “making” this domain - even though I sense and know that he is not “of” me in any way.

Some sort of larger-than-life human-like form, fairly pale, somewhat sickly looking (yet still seemingly stronger than any human form), holds an egg. It looks like a typical white chicken egg, though perhaps bigger. Over time, thorns (of about three different sizes) sprout from all areas of its surface, though leaving the egg’s surface fully intact otherwise. At times, the implications “reset”. The being stands as, slightly hunched over, at one point, the thorns growing from the egg seem to become endless briars in a large ominous but colorful landscape of mostly greens, oranges, yellows, and browns. Certainly this place is not for human beings, though I have certainly seen far worse realms. The thorny briars are in various patterns and sizes that sometimes cross over each other and form “gates” and purely organic trellises. Everything is made of briars, including possibly “nests” assuming there are creatures or human-like forms that live here. I realize this realm is probably a human world that relates to frustration or possibly a lack of focus. It is beautiful, but not a place I particularly would want to spend much time in.

I do not challenge the being with the egg (which sits on the palm of his right hand), even though he seems puzzled that nothing emerges from the egg (upon each “reset”) but thorns. If he wants to keep creating infinite briars into his world from it, who am I to stop him. This is his world, not mine.

Morning of March 12, 1978. Sunday.



Perhaps one of the strangest dreams relating to our chicken farm in Cubitis related to my father getting a very old rooster (I believe from the Hearns farm, possibly by Tony N due to fear of it) that was so old, he was different to other chickens in that his comb - four rows wide - went all the way down and along his back from his head (and actually seemed to be growing from his back like a sort of avian stegosaurus). There were also lizard-like attributes relative to his eyes and feet, his feet being of a more diverse scaly structure, more like a lizard’s than a chicken’s. Over time, though, his comb gets smaller (and of two rows instead of four), and he appears to somehow grow younger over time. We notice that our other chickens seem to be getting older (or aging too quickly) and becoming ill at times, a few dying. My dream continues until the rooster’s comb is only a single one on his head. We later see him as a chick, and finally…he turns into an egg, absorbing too much energy from the other chickens with his “special ability” that he had somehow attained from growing so old. He does not seem to be able to affect humans or other animals in this way, though. My father hides the egg somewhere, away from the other chickens. Nothing happens after that. I wonder if the process will begin again when he hatches, but I also wonder if there will still be people later on (when he becomes very old again). At one point, a private detective from another state (Kentucky, I think) investigates.

I think any “meaning” in this dream, if any, may relate to the approaching event of moving back to Wisconsin (though I was still in Florida at this time) and sort of wishing I had more control over time (as I was beginning to see much less of my friends, as more people were moving from the area and I had also left school).

As with much of my online dream journal, this is the original dream journal title from this time period even concerning the misnomer - as the word “psychic” is not the correct description, perhaps more along the lines of “psychic vampire” at best. I think I mainly used it for a tentative comedic mood or association even though the dream itself was very eerie and not really relevant to the typical usage of the word “psychic”.