Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 28, 2018. Saturday.



I am in an unknown spacecraft in orbit around Earth, but the spacecraft is not implied to be alien.

Fireworks are being shown far below, but eventually, it seems they are in view from the front window of the spacecraft, which is not logical as they would have to be too far up to be appreciated from ground level.

Eventually, some of the small sparks strike the window, some seeming to create a “splash” effect, and I see they appear as glowing mathematics symbols, including pi. Each set fades as more “splash” onto the window. There is a curious sound like two sticks hitting together as well as sizzling. A few sparks come from the control panel as well, but there is no sense of threat or problematic events.

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This is autosymbolism for the usual vestibular system correlation and thinking skills correlation (which the subconscious self does not have while in the non-lucid dream state) to activate the return to consciousness, but unique as always.

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Dream #NYMA54

Morning of January 1, 2018. Monday.

Reading time: 48 sec. Readability score: 63.



The fireworks from last night have left vibrant colors remaining in the clouds at dawn, mostly orange and yellow “embers.” I am wondering how long these residual dynamics will last; perhaps another day.

I approach the sun on the horizon. The “horizon” is suddenly in front of me. It is then not the sun. It is a big yellow sunflower. Its petals feel like the cloth of my pillowcase (lucid awareness of being asleep). (The color yellow correlates with the emerging consciousness process of the dream state. As a result, it can be deliberately used to induce or enhance lucidity.)

I walk on water, of unknown depth, back to our bedroom to wake for the day. The surface of the water replaces the level of the ground in our backyard; there is no implication of a flood. (These two factors have occurred regularly in my dreams for over fifty years. They are a result of being in the dream state. There is no meaning other than reactive representation in the dream state.)

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It is a first-level “return to bed” dream that also includes the daybreak representation, yellow as emerging consciousness, and most of my conscious self identity with no emergent consciousness simulacrum.

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Morning of November 5, 2013. Tuesday.



I am in either St. Martin (relating to the Jimmy Buffet song “The Night I Painted The Sky”) or perhaps Brisbane in South Bank Parklands in another time, in the past, on Cracker Night, but which in real life no longer occurs due to health and safety issue. The first part of the Jimmy Buffet song goes, “I came from the north, Escaping convention, modern invention that won’t let me be, to the shores of St. Martin, with my fiction addiction, to restart the fire, a dreamer’s remedy”.

The fireworks are bright but mostly hues of blue, white, and turquoise. Several times, they form a butterfly pattern, with sparks going out from the center, a pale glow forming the body, and two additional “rockets” streaking upwards near the top. This is apparently also an actual real-life event which I have not ever actually seen anywhere.

I hear, seemingly from distant speakers, the original Bob Lind version of “Elusive Butterfly”, or at least I think I do. The song is a rare treasure in a world of mostly noise and meandering negativity. Even though it seems like a big event, only a few people seem to be in the immediate area, mostly couples. Still - there is loud yelling and cheering that seems to be coming from somewhere else.

A man runs past me to my left, at least one larger spark falling behind him onto the ground. He seems a bit nervous. A mysterious girl, mostly of shadow, is at a fair distance, but still partially discernible. She appears to be near a refreshment stand.

After a time, more sparks are falling, now and then, causing sizzling sounds to occur in a few locations but no impression of danger.

The sparks that are falling are not sparks, but glowing beads. Apparently it is not true fireworks, but someone shooting small glowing beads into the air, seemingly from a boat halfway across the river. They must be magnetic, as they seem to either roll towards each other or move away from each other once they hit the ground. Other people appear and beads hit them now and then, but nothing dramatic happens. Eventually, the girl in shadow comes out and the beads start sticking to her dark blouse, forming a beautiful, glowing mosaic-like image (still of mostly blues, white, and turquoise). It makes a three-dimensional network of circulatory-like light and the wings move. Only one person (another girl in a small group) notices and says “oh, look at that”, pointing, but no one else notices, so they soon all walk off elsewhere. I am still aware of some fireworks in the sky, which is starting to make a buzzing hum rather than a crackling. One man still stands around looking a bit puzzled.

“Oh, that’s my wife,” I say, walking to the “shadow girl”, and it is. Suddenly, a magnetic field visibly forms along the same trajectory as the falling sparks from the fireworks. However, it becomes very difficult to tell the difference between the “butterfly” and the magnetic field, even in what seems to be some sort of growing rhythmic movement that makes me feel very peaceful and comfortable. I sense youthful laughter and cheerfulness from a fair distance.

Morning of November 3, 1974. Sunday.

Dream #: 2,876-07. Reading time: 52 sec.



In my dream, Susan R is sitting outside on a brick fence in Arcadia late at night, and I am standing, facing her. She tells me that something will eventually be happening to take me on a different path, away from her (implying destiny, with a sense of finality and certainty).

On cue, a Catherine wheel detaches, or someone throws it from somewhere unknown in the distance (perhaps three or four blocks away), and it moves high up into the sky. I think of shooting stars (even though the feature is first going upward before arcing downward). I am unsure what could have propelled it like this. Susan tells me that I will hear my name in a song relative to this event. My “dream girl” (Zsuzsanna before we met) connects to my destiny.

Though there is the essence of eeriness, it is not ominous. I watch the small and distant object on an arced curve, soon resembling a glowing pinwheel. (The scenario seems partly influenced by reel three of a “Casper the Friendly Ghost” View-Master pack, titled “The Falling Star,” where an anthropomorphic five-pointed star befriends Casper.)

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The song “Catherine Wheels” (by Crowded House, 1993) uses my first name (Claude). Zsuzsanna and Paul Hester shared a brief correspondence, and he hugged her once in waking life.

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