Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 23, 2018. Tuesday.

Dream #: 18,936-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 69.



I am at the Concordia Ballroom in La Crosse. (My father often performed publicly here when I was very young.) There is a service counter at the east end of the hall (a fictitious orientation, as it was on the north end). My father is sitting behind it. (I do not recall that he had died in 1979). His father is standing to his right but appears as being much younger than my father. (I do not focus on the absurdity of the scenario.)

My grandfather is talking about the history of our family. During this time, I am trying to connect wires so that both speakers will play music. The one on the far left is working, but the far right one is not. I hear sound only in my left ear. I wrap the clusters of wire around each other. There are many that stick out from different areas of the plastic coating. My father looks on as I do this. I am wary of touching certain ones together, but in reality, it would not matter, as there is no electrical current. I spend several minutes doing this, starting over a few times.

I sincerely tell my father how much I enjoyed singing with him when I was a boy.

My grandfather speaks of a fictitious family history meant to be the truth. I remain puzzled about the details, but I do not say anything. Supposedly, my father’s mother’s name was Boyat (unfamiliar to me). She was famous and had an artificial knee. (In reality, the name was Ruland and appears in a book about Tecumseh.)

Eventually, the right speaker starts working. When this happens, I absentmindedly but dramatically run off to the far end of the hall. I enter a bedroom where Zsuzsanna is sleeping. I leap into the air and fly a short distance. I try to wake her, as it is supposedly late in the afternoon. (In reality, she is awake, and I am asleep in my dream.)

---

There have been numerous dreams of connecting wires. It seems to indicate a subliminal attempt to become lucid or connect with my current conscious self identity. I hear the sound in my left ear, which is dream state orientation, as I sleep on my left side with my right exposed to the real environment, so having the full connection would initiate conscious awareness within my dream.

In this dream, I become more subliminally aware of being in the dream state, but I do not achieve a viable liminal or lucid understanding that I am dreaming. Still, I automatically enter the usual vestibular system correlation stage by leaping and flying in dream state indicator space; the bedroom where Zsuzsanna is sleeping. Up until then, I had no recall of my current conscious self identity. I wake shortly after this. Before I am awake, I see patterns of an offset dream forming to my left, which mostly shows laundry, and I consider it is “correct” in being down to the left.

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Morning of September 5, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,888-02/03 (two dreams). Optimized 2 min 15 sec read.



In the first part of my dream, I get out of bed to go into a different room. (My dreaming experience lacks the dynamics of a false awakening). I am aware of Zsuzsanna, but there are also a few unknown people sleeping in the immediate area, yet I do not perceive them as intruders.

My dream self perceives the unfamiliar setting as our present home. I look at a different bed in a well-lit room. Two Ragdoll cats are sleeping near its corner where the walls meet. One is ours; the other belongs to Zsuzsanna's sister. I think the cats are finally used to each other. The darker one gets up and moves to the opposite end of the bed.

I notice my youngest daughter on the floor. She is only about one year old. At first, I am concerned. I go to her, but she seems okay. I notice blue veins on her face, but she is cheerful. I ask the cats if she had fallen off the bed, anticipating a spoken answer, but there is no reply.

My dream fades, though I eventually enter another one. This time I am in the Cubitis house's living room. I do not recall that I had not lived there since 1978. It seems to be morning now.

I go to a fictitious entrance in the middle of the east living room wall. Farther to the east, from the doorway, I see that clouds are close to the ground, creating a virtual horizon at about where the railroad tracks would have been. I consider this incredibly strange. My youngest daughter is present again, though now about three years old. I tell her, "Look, the sky has fallen." I do not believe that the sky has "fallen." I only say this to pique her curiosity. She seems cheerful and wants to see. Still, I think something inexplicable is going on.

I am aware of my father being in the southwest bedroom. (I do not recall he had died when I was in my teens, long before I came to Australia to marry. I have no recall of my mother.) Suddenly, through the curtains, I see that the area where the clouds had been is blue sky. It is suddenly brighter, like a curtain rising from the false horizon. However, I am aware it means all the clouds in the region had suddenly come together to go higher in the sky to form a tornado. It will likely come straight toward our home.

Something unusual happens, as a thread of metacognitive awareness of recently working on a compilation of January 1970 dreams becomes the focus. It changes the outcome of this dream that otherwise anticipates a vestibular phasing response.

It causes my dream to model my experience from January 1970. Instead of a threat, the scenario resets to where I am looking at the "same" clouds near the ground. An angel with large white wings appears in the distance, hovering in the air in a standing position. She is wearing white and will probably give me a gift.

A dove flies into my hands, giving me the strong impression that the angel had transformed into it (somatosensory phasing). As I look down, as it settles into the palms of my hands while facing right, it is almost like a fuzzy pastel painting expressing peace and beauty as I slowly wake.

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Morning of April 19, 2018. Thursday.



In my dream, I find myself standing near the center of the southwest bedroom of the Loomis Street house, facing north (toward the kitchen). It seems to be morning. My father, appearing as he was in the 1960s, comes into the room. I seem to be in the process of moving a few things around. I am also facing “my” bed, which is oriented along the north wall, west (head) to east. His presence annoys me, so I rudely ask, “What do you want?” He does not become angry or visibly annoyed but walks off into another room. I eventually see that he is going down the hallway into the bathroom.

It turns out that he had wanted to know where a band-aid was, as his right upper lip was injured. However, when I see him walking around in the kitchen, I do not discern any blood. It seems my mother might know where a band-aid is (though I do not see her at any point), so I go back to “my” room. My dream fades without incident.

---

Rule: Beds and other obvious first-level dream state indicators occur in at least one dream per sleep cycle. I do not technically typify this as autosymbolism, as it is a literal subliminal awareness of being asleep.

Detail: I find myself standing on the right side of a single bed in a fictitious location at the beginning of my dream.

Rule: A dream’s setting, either lucid or non-lucid, cannot match a real setting. The obvious neurological reason is to prevent false memories and erroneous associations with current waking life.

Detail: The main setting of this dream is the Loomis Street southwest bedroom (Wisconsin), where I have not lived since February 1994. The secondary setting, rendered in my dream as southeast of the main setting, is an erroneous link to the Cubitis house’s hallway and bathroom at the end of the hallway (Florida), where I have not lived since the summer of 1978. The final location is the kitchen of our present home (Australia) rather than the Loomis Street kitchen that would otherwise be immediately north and adjacent to the main setting. This is a new unique composite, continuing the rule of no two settings ever being the same in my dreams. My subconscious self does not notice this error at all.

Rule: A non-lucid dream cannot correctly model the current conscious self for a number of reasons. One reason is to prevent false memories and erroneous associations with current waking life. Autosymbolism that represents liminal space (the dream state and precursory waking space itself) and more so, liminal space dividers (the metaphorical barrier between fictitious dream self and current conscious self identity), confirms this factor. Preconscious access to threads of the unconscious mind is not of the nature most people claim. My dream self (subconscious self) is without viable memory of either the unconscious or the conscious self, and additionally, has no viable discernment of time, space, or sustained coherency in language. Otherwise, synaptic gating would build false memories and false associations.

Detail: My (non-lucid) subconscious self (which is always unique in each dream, just as settings are) has no memory that my father died in 1979. It has no realization of the erroneous setting or its typical hodgepodge nature. There are no threads of my current conscious self status. My perceived age in my dream seems around thirty years younger than I am. Additionally, there was never a bed in the southwest Loomis Street bedroom.

Rule: The main event in a dream is the waking alert factor (WAF), autosymbolism based on RAS mediation (or modulation depending on the dream state depth), a biological factor of the dream state itself. This is for reestablishing conscious self identity in the waking transition. RAS mediation will utilize everything from a present association or conflict to features or events long since forgotten and irrelevant, and the dynamic‘s foundation is always literal despite being borrowed as waking alert factor autosymbolism.

Detail: My father in present dreams is typically an emergent consciousness factor that represents my conscious self identity. One, I have mild soreness in the upper right area of my mouth from the loss of a tooth (though with no bleeding). However, there is also a very old association utilized as the waking alert autosymbolism. Many years ago, when I was twelve years old, this was the only occasion when I felt annoyed by my father’s presence. He was grinning and looking through my open jalousie windows into my room. I walked over and was ready to pull the curtains down (without saying anything) when I realized there were two very large new illustrated dictionaries on my desk, which he had bought for me and placed in my room earlier that morning.

So how does this relate to RAS mediation borrowing the event? Books and reading are a conscious self factor, as only the conscious self in waking life is intelligent enough to sustain reading while understanding written language (as text in dreams typically changes when looking back at it and often becomes gibberish), thus this was a trigger to begin consciousness activation despite the association being from childhood.

Rule: Typically, there is at least one thread in a dream in each sleep cycle that originates in Zsuzsanna’s mind, but most often based on thoughts she had elsewhere, not when at home. (Do not ask me how this is possible, it just is.)

Detail: While out shopping, Zsuzsanna was thinking of buying band-aids yesterday, but she did not (and she did not tell me about it, either).

Rule: Waking autosymbolism usually initiates on my dream self’s right (when I sleep on my left side, which is less exposed to my real environment).

Detail: In this dream, my father approaches me on my right and later goes into the kitchen, which relays subliminal awareness of mild hunger. Additionally, my dream begins with me standing near the right side of the bed (the side I sleep on in reality), although this dream is certainly not a false awakening.

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Morning of March 9 2018. Friday.



My father is alive and appears as he was in the 1960s. I do not remember that he died in 1979. I am also not at all aware of my current conscious self identity. My age may be implied to be about thirty. I ride around in a car with him in late morning. The driver’s side is on the left, implying America.

There are a few repeated scenes. We mostly visit apartment buildings where gangsters supposedly live. No one is around but us until the last scene.

My father punches a wall and creates the impression of dampness and marks like small squid tentacles instead of fingers.

At one point, I watch a waterbed wiggle. A large squid apparently lives inside the mattress and the movement of the mattress’s surface is caused by this otherwise unseen squid. I am briefly, though not viably aware that I am dreaming, and I consider if this scene is autosymbolism as relating, as a precursor, to hypnopompic kicks (as did my donkey inside a mattress dream from Christmas of 2016, which crosses my mind as such very vaguely and briefly).

In the last scene, my father and I are standing in a hallway where a curtain is drawn across one area. An unfamiliar male moves the curtains aside and says my father has a doctor’s appointment.

---

Water usually represents, as autosymbolism, the essence of sleep, dream state induction (in fact, my most common form of induction since early childhood, occurring at least once every sleeping period), and the absence of emotion in unconsciousness. I suspect, curiously enough (from personal evidence), at least on one level, that a squid has something to do with augmented sexuality, however, as related to dream state reinduction (as a subliminal directive) rather than waking life. The problem with pretending that dreams are symbolically about waking life is in ignoring how the fictitious non-lucid dream self (personified subconscious, which lacks temporality and intelligence) is not the conscious self and that, even when non-lucid, I typically seek the understanding of the dream state rather than waking life, to develop clarity of mind. Plus, dreams are primarily autosymbolic in symbolizing the nature of biology, vestibular system ambiguity, transitions in unconsciousness, and consciousness reascension, so how could they viably relate to waking life in the way many people seem to believe (other than when additionally prescient or as literal carryovers)?

Other than being autosymbolic of the usual RAS mediation and the emergent consciousness factor (by way of preconscious personification), the last part of my dream regarding the doctor (looking into my dream self’s essence through the curtains, which is autosymbolism for the liminal space of the waking transition) is possibly literal and reflects my occasional focus on mortality, though hopefully not literally prescient yet. From experience, I know that my father now often represents my current conscious self identity even if it is otherwise not extant in the dream state. Still, I really had to go upon waking, and as a waterbed mattress is called a “bladder”, there may be a connection, though I had a dream about a squid on a mattress in 2015, and although there were pools of water on the bed, it was not a waterbed. Incidental associations are probably enough to trigger such a dream, though, especially in punching a wall (vaguely influenced by the 1980s movie “Altered States”), with a wall representing the autosymbolic barrier between fictitious dream self identity and conscious self identity.

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Morning of January 26, 2018. Friday.



I become aware of being in the living room of the Cubitis house. (No threads of my present conscious self identity are extant at this time.)

My father is alive and as he was in the 1960s. I have no recall of his death in 1979. He is standing near the north end of the living room. I am sitting closer to the kitchenette.

A television is on for a short time. It shows a group of teenagers yelling and going into a school building. “I never really liked school,” I tell my father, “I would have rather gone to a labor camp, chopping wood or laying bricks.” My father seems passive but expresses mild interest in what I am saying. Eventually, I decide that this is not entirely true, as I did not mind elementary school so much. (This is mainly a result of the typical failure of viable memories in the dream state. I did not really dislike school as much as my fictional dream self implies here. It seems to be a reference to when I actually did chop wood, use a fence pole digger, and help build a fence instead of going to middle school for a short time, when the “outdoor classroom” was first being designed and built in Florida.)

Eventually, I get the impression that I can influence the movement of the curtain on the east window, closest to the kitchenette. Although I am not lucid, I start to notice that the curtain responds directly to what I say aloud (similar to how a real-time scripted dream works, and yet, again, there is no lucidity at any point). My father goes to the southwest bedroom as I remain in the living room. After I am sure I am controlling the curtain, I call to him to show him what I can do, but I do not see him. The situation is interesting but somewhat eerie. “Up to the ceiling,” I say, and the curtain obeys, swaying and moving to become flat against the ceiling. “Twist around,” I say, and the curtain twists itself around. “To the right,” I say, and the curtain slowly moves toward the kitchenette. I do this about twenty times, with at least five different instructions, and they always work.

I become distracted by a noise in the backyard. Looking out, I notice a tidal wave, all along the eastern horizon, approaching from a distance. It seems to be nighttime, but I can see the whiteness of the high foamy wave.

“Tidal wave, there is a tidal wave coming,” I yell. I do not see my father come out, but I am trying to warn him. Soon, the tidal wave hits the house. I can feel the house shake. I see and feel water coming in through the east windows. It flows quickly throughout the living room and my bedroom, and yet there is no direct impact of water on my body, only some cool refreshing splashes. Still, I yell, seeing that several high stacks of paper with documented dreams, under my bed, are apparently soaked, and I slowly recall Zsuzsanna’s dream journals as well. There is wetness, but no indication of flooding over the floor at this point.

I yell in annoyance just as I hear Zsuzsanna and our children on the carport. I get the impression that they had just returned from shopping or the library. Zsuzsanna calls out to me, wondering what is going on. There is no indication that the tidal wave had affected their approach to the house, or that they had even seen it (which of course is ludicrous if one wants to force logic on dreams where none exists).

She and our children walk through the front door. “Everything is wet,” I say loudly. “Not everything?” Zsuzsanna asks hopefully. “Everything,” I confirm. I wake at this point, with Zsuzsanna standing near our bed in reality and our youngest daughter nearby. I am somewhat confused as to whether our oldest daughter is in the area since she had been in my dream, though I do not see her.

---

This dream is partly a beautiful connection to a fully lucid childhood dream, “The Staged Bull” from 1971 (as well as several other dreams). Both dreams use curtains as the division between the dream self and the conscious self and the perceived danger of RAS (as the waking alert factor), familiar autosymbolism for the waking transition. In this dream, my subliminal focus on reinduction brings a tidal wave (also a circadian rhythms factor) rather than the usual passive connection to water rising at the beginning of most sleeps. (This is also an association with the indoor rain we had in real life after our roof was torn off, though in reality, our dream journals did not get wet.) The typical doorway waking symbolism is utilized by RAS here, with no recall that Zsuzsanna had never been to America, let alone Cubitis (and as I have written before, I believe this is to prevent dream memories from being mistaken as having real-life meaning other than when prescient). My father wanders off to a bedroom (dream state indicator) and my control of the curtains seems like an amazing breakthrough in adding one more thread of dream knowledge in validating the autosymbolic meaning they entail. (Both autosymbolism for liminal space division and an association with control of the dream state as an implied stage, which also has curtains, yet also has the association with stage of sleep.) In previous dreams, I had chosen to “freeze” tidal waves and nuclear explosions in order to sustain the dream state and make it last for ten to fifteen additional minutes.

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Morning of November 2, 2016. Wednesday.



I am in the semidarkness of an unknown bedroom but I am able to see clearly in my immediate area. I have my dream journal open in front of me as I am lying on my stomach on the floor. I perceive that I am only about twelve years old. My single bed is next to me to my left, closer to the doorway than another single bed and closer to the center of the room, though my head is presently nearest the foot of my bed and my feet are closest to the doorway. My father’s bed is closer to the corner of the room, his head near the wall where the doorway is. He is lying on his back with his head opposite mine. Our beds are about two feet apart. My father (April 26, 1901-February 14, 1979) begins to cough. His coughing intensifies after a short time.

I sense something is wrong as an unknown male (about twenty-five) comes into the room and helps my father get out of bed as he is coughing, apparently to get him ready for an ambulance. As he coughs when walking past me to my right, a large drop of blood suddenly flies from his mouth and lands on the lower right of the right page of my open dream journal. A smaller drop hits the back of my right hand near my fingers. I have concern for my father and a lesser concern about the page’s status, though I get the impression that the blood spot might eventually fade. I remain where I am, slightly puzzled. I start to think of how my father is old and his organs are not functioning like they used to. I wake shortly after he had left the room with the unknown male. I vaguely sense my mother is present but I do not see her.

---

Inexplicable threads: Zsuzsanna had seen an event in a movie related to someone dreaming about blood coming from their mouth prior to my sleep. (I had not known of this prior to my dream.) Additionally, I developed a bad cough shortly after this dream, the worse cough I have had in my life so far (though there was no blood, only mucus). As a result, I consider this dream as both prescient and influenced by Zsuzsanna’s thoughts, with three layers of synchronicity (as I had also recently reflected on a dream from March 1975 relating to watermelon as blood and flesh and coming out between pages of my dream journal).

Biological prescience relating to my health validates that my father represented me in this dream. It is additionally validated by the doorway waking symbolism, as I am usually the one to exit a dream as my emergent consciousness.

RAS mediation was atypical. Instead of the personified preconscious directing attention at my dream self, he escorted my father from my dream (additionally validating that my father represented my conscious self identity in a prescient sense, even though I was completely unaware of my current real life in my dream).

This dream’s waking symbolism is oriented to my dream self’s right as it most often is. (This may be the result of sleeping on my left side.)

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Morning of January 12, 2018. Friday.



Zsuzsanna and I watched “Let Me In” (from 2010) last night and I considered that it would be an intriguing idea to structure as a dream state fantasy. Still, I did not put any actual effort into the idea, though it still influenced a small part of my dream.

At any rate, my dream has an unfamiliar setting. It reminds me of the King Street mansion in some ways, though the tower feature is duplicated to the opposite side of the house. My father is walking on a narrow wooden plank that is apparently supported by the windowsill of each tower from both sides. My mother is also present, but remains standing on the ground near the residence, at the front of the house.

A couple different times, I am somewhat wary about my father walking back and forth on this thin plank so high up. It seems precarious and although he seems confident and balanced, I have a vague anticipation that he might fall, though he never does.

There is only one scene that reflects a part of the movie, and that does not directly trigger any recall related to my current conscious self identity. As I walk into a different area in a house near the first house (where my parents and I are apparently implied to be living), which is somewhat like a large open featureless porch (though more like a park shelter integrated into a house), a young female is present who says, “Just so you know, I can’t be your friend”, just as in the first part of the movie. This frustrates me somewhat, though I do not recall what the actual influence is related to. (I get the impression that the girl is a young version of Zsuzsanna, though this is only later, as my memory is not extant.) Later, the girl’s mother talks to me about what she (the girl) wants, though she seems to be the actress who played the boy’s mother in the movie (though this does not trigger any recall either).

My dream mainly becomes a generic and typical waking transition. There are two ladders against the porch, one on each side at the front. I feel the need to adjust them, though when I move the ladder on the right (waking orientation symbol) only a little, after climbing up and down on them, the entire house shakes and vibrates. This causes me to stop out of concern of causing my father to fall from the plank. My dream fades after this, with no vestibular system activity (that is, no typical waking jolt based on perceived flight, rising, or any falling sensation or typical spontaneous muscle movement).

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Morning of December 3, 2017. Sunday.



This is a set of two dreams of the same sleeping period that need to be approached and studied as a pair, yet where my dream self in the second dream recalls and designates the first as a dream while supposedly being in a real scenario. My first dream is of my current conscious self identity while the second dream is not, which is very strange unless one fully realizes that the personified subconscious (dream self) has no intelligence or viable memory or awareness of time or space. There were other dreams that occurred between these two without any in-dream recall of either of the other two.

In my first dream, it seems to be late at night. I am in the front room (where my computer is set up in real life), though I am sitting beyond the right end of the desk where I have never sat in reality. My wife Zsuzsanna is also in the room (facing east towards our oldest daughter’s door), closer to the door to our porch. Despite the late time, our youngest son seems to be present as well.

In a short time, our oldest daughter enters the room through her room’s door. She says there is someone (an intruder) in our house who is following her. In the semidarkness, to my left, I vaguely discern a tall male figure also coming through her doorway. I consider that I must act to prevent him from doing any harm (though I do not know his intentions and he does not speak). I lift up my left leg, swinging it to the left as he continues into the room, which causes him to trip over it. This is a very strange event, because I perceive my leg as being almost as long as the width of the room (though my dream self perceives this as normal). Additionally, my sense of touch and momentum greatly increases as I feel the unfamiliar male trip over my elongated leg to fall to the floor. I soon awake with a distorted but vivid awareness of my physical body, with a soft hypnopompic kick.

In my second dream, I am in the back seat of a car, possibly also late at night. I am sitting next to the right window. My father (April 26, 1901-February 14, 1979) is to my immediate left and my mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is to his immediate left. They appear as they did in the late 1970s. No one else is in the car. I have no recall that they had died and I seem to be about thirty or younger (though I am fifty-six in reality). I am not sure whose car it is. There is a lot of activity to my right. Across the street is a large two-storey house on the corner. The car is facing the intersection that the house is near, though is across the street from the house. I have a false memory that one of my older half-sisters on my father’s side lives there and that my father’s half-brother (Marvin P) is there with my half-brothers (on my father’s side) as well. (Marvin died in July 1965.) There are about a dozen people in the yard and it seems they are visiting my half-sister.

I talk about my first dream to my father and he nods, saying, “I have those dreams, too”. He goes on to talk about stopping intruders (in his dreams) with his left arm as they come through the doorway and making them fall down. My mother nods and indicates that she has also always had such dreams on a regular basis. My parents seem to have a genuine respect for my interest in dreams.

My parents get out of the car (from the left side) and go around the front of the car to cross the street to visit my father’s relatives. My father seems to want me to go but I decide to stay in the car. I soon wake.

---

My first dream is simply a preconscious event with increased RAS dynamics. This means that my dream was rendered solely to create a spontaneous muscle reaction for biological purposes, at least partly to cause partial waking to change my sleeping position. Most of my current conscious self identity is intact here and my physical nature is greatly enhanced in the waking transition. Still, this dream has a real-life source based on an event of years ago when it was our oldest daughter who alerted me to someone “trying to break in”, though that was not actually the case, only that a large rock was thrown at our southwest window.

In my second dream, I am passive and in the back seat of a car, which means I am passive to the preconscious, which is not directly rendered let alone with any conflict. I am on the right, thus I am passively within waking orientation (and in fact, I subliminally choose to wake rather than remain within my dream, which could also relate to a need to change my sleeping position), which explains the passive nature of my dream. Talking with my deceased parents (unremembered as being deceased by my ephemeral dream self) about how they have the same recurring dream factors, while in a non-lucid dream, is intriguing, though without any real relevance. The dynamics of this dream relate to events from when I was only three years old despite the mix of erroneous ages of my parents and me.

---

This pair of dreams is just a tiny example of how erroneous and skewed memory is in the dream state to the point of being an unexplainable enigma. In my first dream, I am of my present life in a well-rendered realistic sense. In my second dream, even in treating the first dream as a fully recalled non-lucid dream scenario, especially without realizing I am dreaming in the second, I inexplicably have no recall of my present life in the second dream. (My parents being present do not even trigger any sense of reflecting on my personal status). Yet, how could this really be the case if my first dream was fully of my present life and recalled in my second dream? It is a paradox. Since childhood, I have been trying to work out how such common dream state paradoxes are possible. It simply cannot be resolved in conscious afterthought.

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Morning of November 30, 2017. Thursday.



My dream occurs in two main parts. It has the usual distortions and absence of viable conscious self identity. The only conscious self threads relate to knowing I am married to Zsuzsanna. The rest of my dream self identity ambiguously perceives itself as a teenager, and my parents are still alive.

In the first part of my dream, I am in the kitchen of our present address (erroneously perceived as of Cubitis, where I have not lived since 1978). The layout of the house is different. Zsuzsanna is present and we are rearranging everything (which we had been doing a lot in real life lately after the storm tore the roof from our house, though that memory is not extant in my dream). There are two special pictures that present a three-dimensional impression. One is very large and displays a two-storey house. The other is similar to the pattern of our present bedroom curtain but features only one cheetah.

I marvel at the large image of the house and its three-dimensionality. (It faces north when aligned to our present home’s layout.) As I change my position in the room and move my head, there is vivid imagery that looks as if the Venetian blinds in the house are closing and opening, depending on where I stand, though this relates to the angle I am viewing the house from, not the blinds actually moving. At least one bright light is on inside the second floor of the residence where this intriguing Venetian blinds effect is seen, which involves at least three windows. There is a sense of both pleasure and awe. (The windows are about five inches high.) The joy I feel is probably based on liminal realization of modulating my dream with threads of my conscious self, yet my dream self not actively comprehending this factor.

I am then looking at the image of a cheetah (about eight inches in length to start with). I am able to manipulate the image by moving parts of it with my fingers, to make it smaller or larger or change the proportions. It does not become distorted no matter how I move different points of the image. Its three-dimensionality is similar to one of those toddler’s board books with the additional features implied to be fur or other textures (such as “Touch and Feel Wild Animals”). The clusters of fur on the cheetah image growing and shrinking depending on how I alter the image with my fingers fascinates me.

Later, I notice my father standing by the doorway of our shed (our present shed, not the one in Cubitis). He is dressed in an unusual colorful outfit and has a large white beard. I go out and see that he is trying to move several large parts of machinery, one that looks like a small motor. Not being lucid, I still use a type of telekinesis. I am aware that the combined weight of the objects is quite heavy, yet I touch one (the smallest object) and all the other objects connect to it as if magnetic. I effortlessly lift everything and my father seems grateful. I realize that this means I am a witch. I place them out in the backyard through a fictional doorway on the east end of our shed.

From here, there is an incorporeal and unseen male character that is somehow only partially present. There is brief talk with him about a fairy being a great wizard. My father walks to the west end of our shed (where the main door pulls up in reality). It is open to the street. There are at least two black horses facing north that I lightly pet. My father expresses no distrust or wariness of me being a witch.

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A shed or warehouse represents liminal space during the waking transition in a specific part of the sleeping period and is a factor of memory recall and storage. Horses as this dream’s end marker represent my “return” to my physical body in waking. The health or condition of a horse often relates to the health of one’s physical body or recent mental states (or that of someone known). (For example, after a classmate died, I had a terrifying dream of a horse falling down and suffocating in front of me, after it came through the doorway of our homeroom classroom, both a result of his death, and the unsteady state of my emotions at the time.)

In one of my dreams of yesterday, I was a guardian angel “from the future”, helping a fictional character rendered as the actor Jonathan LaPaglia to fulfill his supposed destiny with his future wife. Then, in this one, I am a powerful witch helping my father. I manipulate imagery (though that was implied to be the nature of whatever technology was present) and effortlessly lift heavy objects by mental will (and not only do I lift them, they stick together magnetically in a very long cluster nearly as wide as the shed). There seems to be no difference between a powerful witch and an angel in some cases, at least from my dream self’s viewpoint. (My wife Zsuzsanna has appeared as both an angel and a witch in my dreams, including prescient dreams from before we met.)

The Venetian blinds represent the virtual division between the dream self identity and the conscious self identity. The fact that I am not surprised by my telekinetic abilities validates liminal dream state awareness and liminal dream control (that is, with no realization it is a dream, yet having endless powers to create and control my dream state experiences). I certainly would not have this expectation or act as such when conscious.

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Morning of August 7, 2017. Monday.

Dream #: 18,494-02. Reading time: 2 min 40 sec.



I am sitting on the floor near the southeast corner of the living room in the Cubitis house. The layout is different. My attention is on the front door and a fictitious area north of the kitchenette.

I am aware of my father on the carport (though I do not see him). (My dream self does not remember he died in 1979.) He does not enter the house. He slides several objects under the door (which would have been impossible in reality). I see them as well as hear their movement. There are at least three open-end wrenches, presumably different sizes from a set. There are other items, like a couple of flat pieces of metal. I think he wants me to put them in the hallway closet, as he no longer has space for them in the shed.

I have two irregular stones that seem more like crystals at times. Although mostly opaque, they sometimes seem transparent, becoming glassy when I tap them together. Some facets are reflective and shiny. They have a bluish tint for the most part, though I notice that one looks gold at a later point.

I think I can make a fire. I strike one stone against the other, sometimes doing this when one is on the floor, other times while holding them. They sparkle, and some areas catch fire.

Light gray tendrils of smoke and small flames are the results at least four times. I get a folded piece of notebook paper and hold it near one stone as I hit it with the other, and they burn for a time. The paper catches fire.

An orange tabby cat no longer than my hand rests on my right near a burnt area of the floor. It moves a short distance from the smoke and flames. The small fire is close to it but does not hurt it. Its tail traverses an area of the floor that had burnt moments before. It does not show signs of fear or injury.

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Dreams are mainly a result of co-occurrence with the status of being in the dream state, resulting from subliminal environmental monitoring, enigmatic space, and autosymbolic waking processes.

My dream self sometimes instinctually starts a fire to activate consciousness, a goal stemming from the status of being in the dream state (and being instinctually aware of being asleep), NOT a factor from waking life. My extent of dream control has no association with being “lucid.” My brief dream self identity is not a model of waking life identity. In this case, there is no recall my father had died. There is in other dreams, a factor unrelated to the implied time or any recent thoughts I may have held in waking life. It is because, in subliminal space, my dream self does not have practical access to either my unconscious mind (or its legitimate memories) or my real identity.

This dream also includes wall mediation (another regular event of being in the dream state, NOT a cause from waking life status). A wall (and related features like doors, windows, and fences) is a concurrent virtual division of various levels of liminal space and enigmatic space, though is more likely with an environmental factor like less intrusive noise. The tools from under the door are another association with achieving consciousness, of which the preconscious (reticular activating system) is the foremost dynamic.

The stones become transparent when closer to initiating consciousness (starting the fire) to remind me my dream is an illusion but still controllable by instinct.

Cats sometimes appear with wall mediation (with many specific examples of this in my dream journal), as a virtual anchor in liminal space; and in childhood, a summoned virtual witness to the dream state when lucid. In this instance, the cat is a tiny version of Tiger (a cat from my childhood when I lived on 611 North Monroe Street in 1967). One of the photographs from this time features me sitting in front of the front door, holding him.

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Morning of May 8, 2017. Monday.



Once again, my life status changes upon becoming unconscious and I am perhaps implied to be around fourteen years of age. The dynamics of my memory are different as always. This combination of dream state amnesia and the total loss of critical thinking skills and any hint of intellect is typical of non-lucid dreams.

I am in the Cubitis living room and I believe it is nighttime. My mother (deceased in 2002) is alive and well. My father (deceased in 1979) is also alive but not present at first. Over time, I hear what may be shotgun blasts in the distance, perhaps somewhere in the cow pasture to the east. There are additional similar sounds, not quite identifiable. I do not have that much concern. (I was not able to validate if real sounds in the environment, such as car doors slamming, were responsible for this segment, but it seems likely.)

I grasp the doorknob of the front door. My sense of touch is greatly enhanced. I twist it to make sure it is locked. Later however, I realize that my father is coming home at some point, so I unlock the door, making sure the doorknob turns all the way around. I even open the door slightly and close it again.

I go into my room and look out the north windows. My father is sleeping in the back seat of a car, his head to the north. I am somewhat puzzled and I do not know how long the car had been there. (As my father represents my conscious self identity in certain cases now that I am older, this simply represents the fact that I am actually asleep.)

I go through the back door and into the area of what would be the square concrete platform and the side yard at the south (and the utility room to the east), except that it seems like some sort of open porch with a lot of random furniture stored. It seems morning now even though it was night just moments before.

A neighbor drives into their driveway. Only Don M is present. He gets out of his car and comes over, saying, “My man!” as a friendly gesture. However, he then gives me an odd look and starts to move a desk out of my family’s fictional storage area as if we are not supposed to have it. For a time, he drags it upside-down from one end. I help him for a short time. (In reality, they had given us some furniture in 1973, including a pale teal-colored desk that I kept the largest dream work notebook binder volumes in, as it had a bookcase on the left side. Apparently, perfume had spilled all over it and they no longer wanted it, plus the drawer was missing. The smell did not wear off for a long time.)

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This dream type is in great contrast to other dream types (and as such, has its own associated mood), mainly being a subliminal reminder that I am sleeping as well as being a “denial review”. That is, my dreams often reveal what I am not (when awake as my conscious self) rather than what I am. (For example, when awake I am…not asleep, not in the “back seat”, not living in Cubitis, not with my parents, not involved with Don M’s daughter, not having furniture taken from me, not a teenager, and so on.) All the characters here (other then my dream self) are deceased in reality.

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Morning of September 17, 1978. Sunday.

Dream #: 4,290-02. Reading time: 55 sec.



It seems to be late at night or very early in the morning before sunrise. I see the front of my Cubitis home (though I am living in La Crosse at the time in real life) from near the highway. My father is near the southwest corner of the house. After a short time, I see a navy jet (possibly an A-5 Vigilante, though only about half the size or smaller) has somehow stopped in midair so it appears “frozen” at about a forty-five degree (diagonal) angle about eight feet from the ground, close to where my father is standing, though to his left by a few feet. The unfamiliar male pilot starts talking to my father, and they cheerfully converse. The jet hanging in midair does not cause incredulity, but there is a vague, indirect thought of whether there is something wrong about the scene. There is a vague wariness about the jet dropping a bomb, but not in our immediate vicinity. Overall, the scene maintains a positive essence. I get the impression the pilot is asking my father for directions (as people sometimes do from a car) so he may continue his mission. I do not consider how it is going to move from its compromising position near the ground. (I wake while it is still motionless though I get the impression it will return to its usual flight path.)

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Morning of June 19, 1976. Saturday.



I am in the southwest bedroom of the Cubitis house where my father is present. We are in the southeast area of the room, near the doorway. I am facing the south windows as he is sitting on a chair facing me. He has taken a very rare species of (assumed as fictional) phosphorescent earthworm and is holding it by one end, saying that it has the ability to communicate with people. After a few minutes, the worm curls to form actual vertical handwriting with its entire body, first spelling the word “loam”, then the word “vex”. This is all that it does before my dream fades. (I consider that it is a glow worm, as one of the many songs my father sang publicly was called “Glow Worm”, though that is not actually what it is.) I sense that the worm is annoyed by people trying to get messages from it, when it probably wants to sleep.

The earthworm is a real-time dream state symbol. Attempting to read it as it is spelling words is the emergent consciousness factor, as thinking skills for sustained reading are only viable when conscious. As such, it seems that a part of me does not want to get up for the day yet. Additionally, trying to get feasible “messages” from the unconscious is sometimes futile, as it is just that…unconscious. (I suspect that this dream may have also been influenced by the “Sesame Street” short “Mary Sunshine”, though related to counting, with the lyric, “I head eleven worms yawning”.)

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Morning of July 19, 1975. Saturday.

Dream #: 3,134-02. Reading time: 50 sec.



My imaginary dream self becomes aware of being in an alternate (erroneously detailed) version of our backyard in Cubitis. It seems to be in the late morning. I am aware of my father standing near the back of our chicken shed and digging, but this is not a defined focus.

My attention is mainly on a giant onion that is growing in our garden in the area west of the railroad tracks. The top part of it that is exposed is about three feet in diameter. I do not consider its presence unusual.

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How to understand dreams in my online dream journal: This dream is mainly a result of instinctual sleep-wake mediation and inherently unrelated to my waking-life status other than with partial literal threads (for example, we had a garden in this location in real life but did not grow giant onions).

A feature coming out of the ground is instinctual autosymbolism for emergence from slow-wave sleep. Dreams exhibit co-occurrence with the waking transition as a preparatory function of achieving consciousness.

The top part of the onion in this dreaming experience, being above ground, confirms to me that accessible layers of memory only exist with the emergence of cognizance and consciousness during the beginning of liminality (increasing lucidity) to viable wakefulness.

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Morning of September 15, 1973. Saturday.

Dream #: 2,462-02. Reading time: 40 sec.



I am in the living room in Cubitis, at the table in the center of the room. My mother is sitting on the north end, typing a letter to an older relative. My father is working on wall paneling.

A bowl of cereal (with milk) somehow quickly comes down from the ceiling (or through it somehow, although there is no sign of a hole or “portal”). It falls and spills over the tiled floor. My mother expresses annoyance over the disruption of her writing by the inexplicable event. She seems to momentarily but silently blame me. I am also surprised and cannot understand how it happened. It appeared to be falling “from nowhere,” as if in mid-fall just below the ceiling.

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Following are scenes (where I am incorporeal) of moving through several doorways in the ceiling of our house. It seems mazelike. (This is imaginary, as our real ceiling space was not high enough to stand upright. There were no doorways, either.)

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dream type: something coming down

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