• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. Fun with Nitroglycerin

      by , 10-30-2018 at 08:00 AM
      Morning of October 30, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,943-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 71.

      I become aware of being on the Loomis Street house’s porch (liminal space) where I have a galvanized metal washtub full of gray powder with silvery properties. It is supposed to be nitroglycerin. I had supposedly ordered it via mail-order. My brother-in-law Bob (appearing as he was in the 1980s) cautions me that the authorities might find it. I keep the washtub near the northeast corner, not that far from the porch door. I am aware of Zsuzsanna and our children at times. Our youngest son went with our oldest daughter east down Gillette Street (where there were no stores in real life, though my dream implies there were).

      I read a brochure (that seems foreign, possibly from the Philippines) that claims its appearance is like that of soil to anyone who does not look at it closely. (There is no distortion in the text I read, though I do not attempt to read it the second time.) The detail is very realistic and precise, including the silver grains.

      I make it into tiny “snowballs” that I throw to the porch step outside. It makes a loud sound like a big firecracker. I claim that a golf-ball-sized amount would be like a nuclear bomb, though there is no evidence of that and I make no attempt to prove it.

      I have fun with it, and my tangibility is enhanced. At one point, I see what first seems like a detached arm, with a hand, crawling on the branch of a tree, grasping at a small teddy bear. It turns out to be a Halloween toy for a dog (and is mechanical, not organic). An unknown woman is looking for her dog.

      Later, even though I am still on the porch, it also seems I am in an outside area. Flowering plants are present to my left. I toss some of the powder onto the sidewalk, directly in front of me, without pressing it into a small ball. A fire soon covers the area, but I stomp it out with my foot.

      This dream stemmed from an earlier one of watching Dean Norris (as the vestibular system simulacrum) and two unknown people work with nitroglycerin. There was a scene where they were climbing what looked like monkey bars (from my elementary school’s playground) or scaffolding coated in nitroglycerin. It was on a stage (like the one from my high school). A quick small fire moves over all of the structure, immediately going out, and Dean appears to be worried for a short time (as he remains vertically holding onto the bars about halfway up and to the right), but no harm comes to anyone. He talks about how dangerous it is. I am puzzled as to why an actor would seemingly risk his safety for a public service video.

      I believe that the mechanical detached horizontally-oriented arm crawling on a branch to the teddy bear is a literal bed space strand, though seems to be the only first-level one in this dream.

    2. Rocket

      by , 07-20-2018 at 02:28 PM
      Morning of July 20, 2018. Friday.

      Reading time: 2 min 14 sec. Readability score: 66 (8th-grade education and above).

      In my dream, I am at the south end of the hall of the Cubitis house. The time is unknown. I am facing the doorway to the southwest bedroom.

      There is a plastic box of items to the left of the doorway. Another is near the middle of it. Although I cannot discern all of the contents, I see more than a dozen empty toilet paper rolls atop other items in the leftmost box.

      I vaguely recall that Zsuzsanna’s younger sister Judy lives in the room, but I do not see her at any time. (In reality, the bathroom was on the opposite side of the hallway as this room.)

      There is an absentminded transition to a more vivid setting. The implication is that I had walked north to the Cubitis house’s living room from the hallway, yet I am now in what seems like a simultaneous presence of the Loomis Street house’s living room and the lounge room of our present home.

      There is a recall that I had been making small rockets. It is likely that I might have used some of the empty toilet paper rolls in my project. I must have done it during what seems like a missing stage in my dream’s sequence.

      It now seems to be late evening. Mentally, from perhaps outside the house, I launch a small rocket as my experiment as I stand in the middle of the living room, facing the front door. I do not expect much to happen at first, but I begin to feel wary. I am aware of its trajectory in rising up and to the right. I am aware of it, though I do not see it. I hear a slight sizzling.

      I might have made the small rocket too powerful, as I had quickly put it together without any measurements. There are a few moments of silence when I consider what might occur. Suddenly, there is an extraordinarily loud explosion that vividly echoes from everywhere outside the house. It shakes the whole world. I wonder if I will have time to tell Zsuzsanna before our planet disintegrates. I wait for the light and consuming fire. Instead, I awake.

      Dream content and explanatory notes:

      The incorrect representation of our bedroom is a common dream feature occurring a few times through every sleep cycle, typically rendered in the beginning or end of a dream. It is usually only a subliminal factor of being in bed. As they are primarily composed of anticipatory and reactive representation, in subliminal, liminal, and lucid states, dreams neither have symbolism in the conventional sense nor are they a result of memory processing.

      As I was near a doorway into a bedroom, it implies a reactive representation of being near the waking process. The empty toilet paper rolls were a biological prompt, though my need to wake was not intense. The association with cylindrical forms, from the empty toilet paper rolls to launching the small rocket, was intriguingly unique.

      Typical temporal errors are present as is the integration error of the Loomis Street house with the Cubitis house (where I have not lived since June 1978). My dream simultaneously combines our lounge room with the Loomis Street house’s living room (where I have not been since February 1994).

      The representation of the cessation of my dream was more magnificent than usual.

      Tags: explosion, rocket
    3. Saving Someone’s Life; Seemingly Ending Another

      by , 05-13-2017 at 01:59 PM
      Morning of May 13, 2017. Saturday.

      I am sometimes walking, sometimes slowly flying, over an overpass in an unknown region. This of course is typical waking symbolism of the same type I have often had since early childhood but this event includes a subliminal attempt at re-induction.

      An unknown male is present, but only walking to my right. As I hover near the peak of the overpass, a pickup truck approaches with an unknown male driver. I somehow know that he is in danger. (This is actually pretense, as the “danger” equates to waking from my dream and my temporary current dream self no longer existing, even though I am not actively lucid at any point. There is something about the nature of waking symbolism that the dream self somehow indirectly recognizes, but that is likely because of a thread of subliminal conscious self presence, as it is the conscious self that creates many dream events for the otherwise clueless dream self).

      As the truck is close to me, I somehow pull the man out and push the truck over the side of the overpass. It rotates as it falls, lands upside-down, and explodes directly under the overpass (though the explosion is of no threat to us). The man is thankful to me, even though I caused the event, yet stopped the waking prompt by doing this (as technically an explosion often serves as a waking prompt, sometimes caused by a real noise in the environment, but this was out of the range of perceived danger).

      In another scene, my attention shifts to the corruption of government. I am in some sort of large office. There are at least nine unfamiliar people, apparently all corrupt government officials. Still, some of them seem cheerful and not really that threatening. They had been sitting around a large rectangular office table discussing documents from a few different files.

      An unknown male talks to me from my right as we are standing near one end of the table. A couple other people stand, indulging in conversation between themselves. Soon, an unfamiliar female approaches me. She does not really seem aggressive. She talks about a file and a DVD, and starts to hand them to me. Somehow, her arm automatically jumps up so that the DVD cuts halfway through her neck, killing her. No one seems to notice this event at all. The male continues to cheerfully talk. The “dead” female continues to stand, glowing slightly, then fading to gray, eyes remaining open. There is not a single drop of blood. I am not directly responsible, but this may not had happened had I not been standing there. No one notices. They go about their business.

    4. A Place in the Sky

      by , 11-26-2014 at 09:50 AM
      Morning of November 26, 2014. Wednesday.

      This is a dream more-so of a theme from several years back regarding the end of the human race and my family and I “moving on” to a better existence. It is typical to where I eventually have full control over my dream (as a “writer” and “director”) for the most part yet am not remotely lucid or even in a more vivid or defined state.

      In my vaguer dream state, I am unsettled at the severe lack of intelligence on one dream “interpretation” site. I had actually joined the site recently, but do not plan on being much of an active part of it. One main “interpreter” (with about 20,000 posts) and another with 3,000 posts seem to have never correctly remembered any dreams in their lifetime or even know what dreams are. This is actually far worse than what I read when growing up and not wanting to have anything to do with dream dictionaries and such. Even though I am not aware I am dreaming, I ponder the two bizarre characters on that site and my proportional focus of being entirely “alien” by comparison. (This focus is what eventually builds the main dream itself, I think.)

      One of the posters believes that all dreams are functions to wake up a person - sometimes because they are tired (which makes no sense at all - if you are tired you need more sleep or rest not less) - or in many cases, caused by a pain in the neck or arm in a certain position. He continuously claims all dreams are solely for waking you up and never have any meaning at all and that lucid dreaming is not possible. There are around 3,000 posts of this nature - all evidence the “interpreter” has never remembered a dream themselves or know what they are. The posts are so bizarre, I cannot help but have residual “alien” associations. While it is true certain types of dreams are influenced by the environment or physical body or sometimes produce scenarios to deliberately wake someone up, that is certainly not the main cause or purpose of all dreams. The other “interpreter” with the near-20,000 posts interprets almost everything as either “a thief” (and making references to serfs and pages/page boys and many other long-outdated social scenarios as if he is from another century) or “getting a money” - and yet people reference this poster when asking for “interpretations” on that site as if I am still living in the ancient Middle East. It is a strange world still.

      Obviously, there are far worse things than the general lack of intelligence and valid information regarding dream work. The overwhelming corruption of authority comes into focus again.

      At one point, there is a war between two groups of people. Apparently I actually am an “alien” as it is the “only” explanation for my perspective of society as it is. Oddly, though, other (unfamiliar) people that are seemingly average are also “alien”. There does not seem to be different DNA (other than human) to “explain” this. I am the leader of a group that is moving to a planet that is very close to Earth (which of course would not be possible in reality - planets cannot exist within a short distance of each other). However, before we can be fully free, we need to destroy the infrastructure of Earth so the governments will not corrupt the new planet. Mostly, miniature airplanes (about the size of a person with their arms spread out) that look like Fokkers (from World War I) fly around and destroy everything but without killing people. At times, I seem to be flying over various landscapes seeing what needs to be done. I see people running around in chaos and fear, but again, I do not see anyone being killed (unlike similar dreams of the past).

      Over time, I am aware of the American president (Obama) agreeing to meet with two or three people from my group as well as me (it is extremely rare for me to dream of presidents in any context). After this meeting and shaking of hands at a public venue (after most infrastructure has been destroyed), my group and I walk down a sidewalk and begin to prepare to eventually travel to the other planet - and all our clothes change color - for us to elude other people (for example, snipers) who know what we had been wearing at that meeting. Still, I sense betrayal for the most part, and at any rate, we need to “begin again” on the other planet.

      I mentally set off a huge atomic bomb of potentially worldwide destruction, or so it seems at first. It is not even that far away from where we are and I can see it towering into the sky in the distance, reminding me of a sunset in some ways. However, the explosion and mushroom cloud is slightly “frozen” yet moving in extremely slow motion. (This being similar to dreams where I control tsunamis to “freeze” their location or reduce their force or “play with their energies” sometimes experiencing ecstasy.) I casually walk along, and eventually decide to also remove the nuclear fallout potential from the event before I bring the event back to normal speed after we get to the other planet - there will still be all the otherwise healthy humans of Earth but without a means to reach us at this point, until they rebuild, I suppose…
    5. “Domino” Explosions

      by , 07-16-2014 at 12:16 PM
      Morning of July 16, 2014. Wednesday.

      Zsuzsanna and our family and I appear to be living on Barolin Street though it seems more like my Cubitis bedroom inside at one point. There is no fence as on Barolin Street and the house is much closer to the road (Highway Seventeen) than the Cubitis house was, so it is an interesting new composite as is usually the case.

      I have this unusual heightened sense of mortality for some reason, especially at one point where I am lying on the bed near the windows. It seems to relate to our bedroom’s closeness to the main road and the steady traffic. However, it also seems to relate to airplanes that fly over now and then. This dream soon seems to be directly influenced and “scripted” by noises outside, including at least two low-flying airplanes.

      The airplane in my dream is flying south (assuming Cubitis - but north if assuming Barolin Street). It is fairly loud and seems to land in an area of town I cannot fully see as it moves down behind the buildings, though it does not seem to be landing in the right area. I hold the anticipatory impression that there will be a crash landing. Even though it is likely in the distance, perhaps two to four miles away, there is an explosion that affects all of the cars on the road just outside, which are also all going south, the explosion’s repercussions being like some sort of domino effect. It is unusual in that the airplane’s explosion seems to mildly threaten our house with debris or fire even though it is supposedly far away. Not only that, each and every car’s engine explodes very quickly and smoothy in a series (south to north) and yet not a single person is hurt. They just get out of their car and look around. Of course, they cannot drive their car anymore at this point. Only the one part of the front of the car looks a bit damaged or different, in some cases, only larger and more squarish.

      This scene repeats a little later but this time with a little more detail. It is almost as if this happens on a regular basis since we seem to know what to do in going into a different room in the house for a short time. After the explosions, I look outside and see all the people standing near the cars (all on the right side) and very similar minor damage to each front, all cars in an even row, equidistant, and all similar models. After I wake, I hear an airplane flying overhead after a short time in reality, thus there is not much to this dream other than RAS mediation triggered by real low-flying airplanes - even though it would otherwise be typical autosymbolism related to vestibular system ambiguity, which is why I also typically “expect crash landings” in the dream state regarding subliminal associations with the usual waking start or falling sensation as such. Additionally, the people on the right of their car relates to waking symbolism most often being to the right.

    6. The Freakies Brigade (Lucid)

      by , 12-09-2013 at 06:09 PM
      Morning of December 9, 2013. Monday.

      In my dream, it seems to be the last day of middle school, possibly not the last day of the grade but prior to a supposed spring break, involving only sixth to eighth grade classes though I seem to be the oldest and with the highest level of authority in some sort of “commander” role. The part of the “school” we are in (which I perceive as probably being only about a quarter of the size of my real school in conscious afterthought) seems more like a slightly familiar grocery store in some areas, as the larger room is set out with mostly empty aisles similar to a grocery store (and running east to west with us in the west area of the building) but also with sections within the shelf areas that have tables or chairs or openings depending on the section. The northernmost shelf, behind the end section, has a table with my computer set up and with a (fictional) 3-D printer closer to the end section.

      Instead of trying to manipulate my dream in my full lucidity, I feel confident enough to remain mentally passive and see what happens (as I already had full control of my martial arts dream that came before this one). The group of students within my dream, mostly male, seems to be of a pretend paramilitary group involved in war games. However, there are no replica weapons, maps, or other aspects at my dream’s beginning point. Our teachers have apparently already left for the day earlier this morning. I continue to have the most authority though am still just another student it seems.

      A seemingly familiar classmate in shabby greenish-gray loose-fitting clothing and of a dull-witted visage hands me a (I assume) replica Beretta M1934 (very dark matte blue), apparently from the tall narrow locker in a room through a doorway to the northwest corner. The trigger on the Beretta M1934 seems to be facing the wrong way (the crescent shape pointing towards the user), but I am uncertain of the implications - it would probably still work the same way, as everything else seems correct. (This event may have been influenced by thoughts on the new humidifier we bought in real life, in it having two buttons switched around relative to their functions though it still works). In being annoyed that a dream character had the audacity to try to get the “war games” started on terms other than mine, I mentally transform the pistol into a construct of nougat of the exact same shape and immediately proceed to eat the sweet, wonderful-tasting bluish-colored nougat - at least about twenty-five percent of it. I place it on my table and say “irrelevant” and tell him to go home, which he does a bit reluctantly.

      Soon, I start to pull out maps from near the table and place them on the ends of the aisles. The one farthest to the south (all focus here is on the western ends of the aisles and there are at least four) is quite large, with at least six creases and is vertically narrower. It looks the most complex and colorful yet also seems to relate to some sort of Celtic legend or fantasy, possibly relevant to a recently released computer RPG, the implications of which start to bore me. Many of the students (including at least two unknown females) seem more interested in this than the other maps and supposed plans. It seems, though, the majority would still prefer a World War II scenario in the war games, although there are different opinions expressed from time to time, including from a couple students continuously contradicting themselves relative to their interests.

      I try to get things going a little better, as there are only a few hours left on this last day before spring break, yet no one is really in costume yet either, so engaging in war games with only the person (with no uniform) and nothing else seems a bit pointless. I ask one person what they would like and they tell me “a blue machine gun”. I go over to my computer and start to type “blue machine gun” so that my 3-D printer will create one. This seems to be going fine as I type b, l, u - but then the keyboard blows up in my face in flame and smoke. There seems to be a clever but unexpected play on “blew” and “blue”, and I am really annoyed by this pun altering my intent. However, I keep going without wanting any of the other dream characters to notice my frustration. There is not much left of my computer keyboard and most of its keys are now missing (but mostly only as if removed for cleaning as there does not appear to be much fire damage), leaving mostly only a hollow space in its center area. The keys that are still on my keyboard and possibly usable are the ones with the least frequency, such as Z, Q, X, J, K, and a few others. I stoically pretend to type “blue machine gun” on the missing keys and mentally force the 3-D printer to come on and create the blue machine gun anyway. I test it and it is one of those toy machine guns that makes a sort of repetitive clacking sound. As I hand the toy weapon to the student, the barrel support turns black. “No, all blue, you imbecile,” I say to the toy weapon, and it changes back, but only for a few seconds, then returns to being all blue except for the barrel support area. Still, the fellow student seems very happy with it and runs off.

      I go back to make more items that may be put to use but there is a small isolated adapter on the table related to the monitor and which seems to be open and exposing capacitors and wiring. It soon starts to sizzle, catch on fire, and make a lot of black smoke. I unplug everything. A few people notice my mishaps. Still - I mentally will everything to work without being plugged in while not even pretending to use the computer keyboard at that point. No one comments on (or even seems to care or notice much) me using my equipment without electricity.

      I then consider if vehicles will be needed for our war games. I ask another student what sort of vehicle he wants and after seeming to think awhile on it, he says “a road”. I am annoyed and tell him that a road is not a vehicle and am not sure if anything will ever get started before this day ends.

      Soon, many of the other students start singing the old Freakies Cereal song (from 1974), which for some reason, has been stuck in my head lately (relative to research for another dream). Apparently, I am now “Boss Moss”. “Make sure you spell it right!” I yell as the real-life song response phrase as they are all singing and leaving via the eastern doorway and then wandering about on the streets in random pursuit of each other. “Wait!” I yell, “that’s not very bright to say spell it right” (doing a dancing rhyme) “it should be ‘make sure you spell it CORRECTLY!’" No one cares, and most are still using “invisible” (imaginary) weapons - and falling over pretending to die and quickly getting up again and zigzagging north up the streets and sidewalks as my dream begins to break up and lose focus with the song still ringing in my head yet with a sense of the beginning of summer (which contradicts the implied season in the first part of my dream).

      Updated 07-19-2015 at 10:03 AM by 1390

    7. I am ultimately not fooled by little aliens

      by , 04-19-2009 at 10:19 AM
      Morning of April 19, 2009. Sunday.

      I am at Northern Engraving, a factory where I had worked in the 1980s, on the second floor in the lunchroom. I am seated at a wooden picnic table and talking with a coworker about having seen tiny people of about four inches high. No one believes they exist. (My dream seems to have at least one reset after the point where the coworkers leave and the tiny people are seen by me.)

      When there are again no coworkers in the lunchroom (which illogically implies that all my coworkers had come back only to all leave again) of which has minimal lighting, I see the tiny people running across the floor near the doorway (from right to left) and they are soon aware that I can see them. They seem like humans at first, only miniature. At this point, my dream becomes extraordinarily vivid.

      Over time, there seems to be an area beyond the lunchroom where the doorway connects to the Barolin Street house’s doorway directly into the hallway (from where would have been our oldest son’s bedroom at the time).

      There also seems to be areas that lead out from there into WWTI (where I worked in maintenance as well as having taken two courses in machine tool and carpentry). I sit on the floor with my knees up and my back against the hall’s wall and I am very friendly with these apparent aliens that also somehow now seem like fairies relative to the legends. A female sits on the back of my raised hand while a few others are also seated on the floor and we share a few jokes about humans (even though I am human). After being friends with them for awhile, they agree to take me to their planet to explore or perhaps to live for a time. (My conscious self identity is not extant, so I am unaware of my present life status of living in Australia and having a family.)

      They eventually lead me into an old abandoned building, though of which they claim is their spaceship disguised as a building and which had been there for a long time. It reminds me of my high school in Florida in some ways. I go into a large old shower room with a concrete floor and with about four adjoining open showers, which is apparently an internal part of the spaceship supposedly near where the engine is. Interestingly, I suddenly and clearly realize that their intent is malicious (and that they are against humanity) and consider that I will probably be killed if I stay here, because I now understand that the building is not a spaceship, and I also realize that it is set to blow up very soon. I manage to escape just in time, feeling very intelligent by intuitively knowing of their deception. I am not sure if they were in the explosion or not, but it seems they might have been. A four-block area is destroyed by the explosion as I wake while on the perimeter of the area, feeling safe.

      As with most of my non-lucid dreams of this type, this dream is about my lifelong experience of being subliminally aware of being in the dream state even when not lucid and as such, has nothing to do with “interpretation” (especially as usually misused to imply “meaning”) as commonly propagated by the unknowing (including so-called experts and professionals who usually have zero understanding of what a dream is). It is ultimately about my lifelong relationship with RAS (reticular activating system) and its mediation while unconscious. I have the choice of remaining in my fantastic dream or accepting the biological urge to wake and urinate.

      The presence of the tiny people vivified my dream but not enough to trigger threads of conscious self identity, though did link me to a later setting (though of which we no longer live) and of which is a subliminal reminder that I am really unconscious and in a bedroom. The combined fantasy of aliens and fairies is obviously unrelated to real life. I deliberately (though again, subliminally, that is, without being aware I am dreaming) use this impossible scenario to sustain my dream. It is purposeful, but ultimately fails, as waking is a biological necessity.

      Still, in subliminally avoiding the inevitability of waking, I ultimately end up in a shower room, associated with bathrooms, of course, during which RAS becomes the “enemy” in its role as the waking trigger.

      Had I chosen to gone with the aliens in their spaceship (if my dream had taken this route), the vestibular system symbolism would have been utilized. (This is associated with various forms of movement, typically flight symbols such as birds and airplanes, though also the common falling sensation, which is solely biological.)

      The explosion simply symbolizes the cessation of the dream state itself and my (subliminal) choice to end it. What could have been typical return flight waking symbolism transmuted to a more defined bathroom wake-up call.

      Updated 01-03-2018 at 10:00 AM by 1390

      Tags: aliens, explosion
    8. A Very Strange Train

      by , 05-14-1995 at 11:14 AM
      Morning of May 14, 1995. Sunday.

      I seem to be the director of an unusual comedy-drama-science-fiction movie. Prior to the movie-like sections of my dream is a long section about getting friends together and equipment set up. There is no fear at any point and although at times I seem to “direct” my “movie” or dream by mental will, I am not actually lucid at any point.

      The first part of the “movie” is about another world that is like a swamp where a tribe of seemingly African people live. This is connected with yet another world where blue-skinned people live in wealth near a beach. Some of these people have half the side of their body a darker blue. It seems that the people of each world sometimes bring gifts to each other that have religious or social-status-related implications.

      An unknown female from the African tribe somehow enters this world (“my” world where the filming is taking place). A giant alligator also somehow comes through and causes a lot of problems. I get to a roof with several other people but certain other people climb a tree instead, which is pulled down by the alligator, and as a consequence the people are eaten.

      Later, there are both comedic and sensual scenes, including a restaurant where people make love in public on tables but with mosquito nets over them. Supposed comedy involves police attempting to track down the alligator by reading different outdated files rather than where they are actually seeing it.

      Later, there is an oversized man-eating train to have concerns about. It still only travels over some of the normal-sized railroad tracks. This seems to happen after the alligator gets hit by a train and there is an explosion that somehow combines the alligator and train into one living creature. It has a ribbed appearance and looks like an H.R. Giger design.

      Eventually, the train has “babies” that are much smaller than real trains; about one-quarter the size. One person kills one and notices that it looks edible. It seems to have a marshmallow texture and banana flavor as I join the hunting party.

      This dream is quite similar in some ways to another dream; “Alligator Train?” of 1989, which was before my first contact with Zsuzsanna and my move to Australia in 1994. There was a shorter “prototype” of certain aspects of this dream (including a sort of “origin story” involving an African priest) on May 12th (1995). I find it curious that H.R. Giger died on May 12th, 2014.

      Updated 09-11-2016 at 01:01 PM by 1390