Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 28, 2018. Monday.



I am in a setting that seems partly modeled after the Cubitis living room (last seen in real life in 1978). There is a computer set up in the southwest corner. It seems to be late morning. I am looking at pages in a newspaper. There is a short article (on the upper right of a page) of about three paragraphs written by someone with my surname. Their first name is Aueda (which is unfamiliar, though which is actually a distortion of my last name, with an extra “A” and no “L”, though my dream self does not realize this). I notice the name Tecumseh written a few times throughout the article. The person lives in New York. I tell Zsuzsanna that I am surprised Aueda is still alive, though this is by way of false memory, as I have no relative by this name as far as I know. In fact, I am uncertain of whether the person is male or female. Zsuzsanna seems to know it is a female even though she had not known of her previously.

“I did not know they were still alive,” I say, followed by, “They were born in the 1800s”. (This turns out to actually be 1907, but only assuming my dream self is aware it is 2018, though that is unlikely, as my non-lucid dream self typically has no idea what year it is or any viable temporality.) I use the computer for an Internet search. It turns out there is a very large and detailed photograph of her at her rural home in New York. I read that she is 111 years old. In the photograph, presumably recent, she is standing and facing the foreground. I report her age several times to a few different people who show up. I am amazed by her age. The photograph seems like it might be of Grace McDaniels (the “Mule-Faced Woman”), though my dream self does not consider this. Additionally, the surreal nature of her face is far more extreme than Grace’s. She appears to have a large pointed chin covered with small bumps as well as an additional section below her mouth of a different rough texture. She also seems to have large elk antlers growing from her head. (This was likely influenced by a strange movie called “Marker” that Zsuzsanna and I saw the other night, though also seems influenced by the character of Hela from “Thor: Ragnarok”, which we also saw recently, though again, the horns were like elk antlers.)

I look to the left and see a man, who I first think is her husband, lying on a couch inside their house. (This is illogical, as the main image of Aueda was taken outside, but the photograph implies the walls closest the camera are not present in the image, but are in “reality”.) Looking around, I see more detail, including a barn and a woodpile to the right.

An unknown male is suddenly standing behind me on my left asking me if he can use my computer to look up a different name, which is Helen Crowley. I do not feel comfortable with him using my computer, as the keyboard is difficult to use. (It is smaller than a real one, but my dream self does not consider this.) I consider that some of the keys can easily fall out or get jammed. I try to tell him about the difficulty of use (though I also tell him how I am familiar with how it us used as such) and that I do not want him using it, but he gets annoyed and walks away for a short time. Finally, I let him use it, though after typing in the name myself, while I get up and walk away from the area. (Helen is Zsuzsanna’s mother’s name as on at least one official document, though she uses Helene but pronounces it as Helena. Additionally, Crowley was a “King of Hell” character from “Supernatural”, so my dream is illogically mixing a lot of random details together, which is what dreams often do.) Before I get up, I notice all the people in the photograph are now walking toward a storm cellar while looking back at the viewer now and then (Aueda being the last one in the line). The image is now actually moving like a film.

Looking at the floor a little later, I see otherwise clear water with pink areas, much of it flowing out from under a table, and I wonder if someone had been ill, possibly bleeding, or had just spilled something. Marilyn (older deceased half-sister on my mother’s side) is present, though seems as she was in the 1960s. She says she had contacted someone about fixing the leak. She is standing against a table with her arms folded, firstly facing me, though I walk about looking at the pink water. As I look at her in profile as she faces left, I notice how her body and posture is impossibly distorted but I do not catch on that I am dreaming.

I go into other rooms (which are unfamiliar). I see and clearly hear water flowing everywhere, most of it clear and no longer with pink areas. I see a large laundry basket full of clothes somehow filling up with water nearly to the top (which is impossible as it would just flow out through the large square holes in reality). I also see that the otherwise shallow flooding is going into a room where I supposedly have a number of my books and journals. I walk back where Marilyn is and loudly say, “Everything I have is being destroyed. Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” Soon however, I realize I am dreaming and that I was liminally trying to return to deeper sleep (as water is my most common autosymbolism of dream state induction and reinduction, partly based, biologically, on the first months of life spent in the waters of the womb - in fact, I had been reading a comic book yesterday where a woman is pregnant and her waters break). I feel relief in waking up (though in reality, we did have a flood and rain inside the house when the roof was torn off last November and a lot of books were ruined, though not any of our journals).

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Morning of June 16, 2014. Monday.



This is one of those dreams that seems somewhat lucid in a tentative experimental sense; vivid and with an energy that seems close to “purifying”, and yet not fully lucid where total conscious control is utilized - thus I remain mostly a witness.

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It starts out at a level where I feel energetic and very well, almost with a sense of ongoing “completion” and "perfection” regarding my life’s path. I am not sure of the location. It is probably a more integrated composite of several houses including our present home, sister Marilyn’s older house, and Cubitis, as is sometimes the case, yet such composites always vary from dream to dream including in directional orientation. The overall layout is most similar to Cubitis, yet the essence is more like our last home on Barolin Street. My wife Zsuzsanna and I are involved in some sort of educational work, but my sister Marilyn appears and so does brother Jim. Even though both relatives (from my mother’s side) have passed away, Marilyn makes an unusual comment about Jim being there and points it out in a way that she “knows” something is not quite right. It does not even seem unusual to me that someone who had died is now at the house pointing out how somehow else had died. It seems to be about midday.

Jim seems very cheerful but soon starts talking about a tidal wave approaching, excitedly pointing in its direction and talking about its force and size. I am able to see the large wave coming from about two blocks away but it does not seem to be a major destructive force. This one is only slightly above rooftop level as it approaches. I am somewhat annoyed by the idea of having some of our belongings damaged by water, but it is not a dominant thought. I get a clear feeling that I will just have to deal with it and am I neutral in the implications after a short time. The wave hits and water rushes through the house in a somewhat exhilarating sense (as if it was almost an enriching event). I notice other people outside yelling about it, but not in terror; more like mild surprise.

A little later, I go outside to the direction where the wave had approached from and the scene and landscape changes dramatically and it is also now late in the evening. I am in a state of lucidity but witness-only awe relative to the various types of ways the world can end, all occurring at the same time (which seems very amusing to me for some reason, almost like some sort of unlikely gag). I have no fear or worry at all and feel a positive energy; almost enthralled to near physical pleasure. Jim is now very happily swimming in the ocean to my left (apparently much of the world has been flooded). Zsuzsanna and I are standing on a balcony-like area or more like an elevated area of a Medieval castle.

As in many past dreams of semi-lucidity relative to ocean scenes, I imagine the creation of a plesiosaurus-like sea serpent which materializes in a fairly short time and rises from the water. Above us, but towards the horizon - at about a seventy-degree inclination (common for viewing in-dream events in the sky) there are odd events occurring near and on the visible but dim sun even though it is fully nighttime. The sun, though, seems to be behind some sort of odd "filter” or unusual static (unmoving) squarish gray cloud. Slightly to its right are several small meteors moving horizontally to my right in sparse clusters, all different colors (red, green, purple, blue, etc.), seemingly fizzing across the sky almost like the appearance of sparklers (perhaps to also aid in the end of the world along with other events I seem to be aware of, such as earthquakes, Earth going out of orbit, volcanoes, etc.), but I am not sure if they are close or farther out in space.

I call happily out to Jim about the sea serpent behind him. He cheerfully turns and swims in the opposite direction, directly towards it, and deliberately swims into its open mouth as if that were the best thing he could do with his life. He even makes an extra attempt to make sure he is aligned properly to the jawline to get eaten as quickly as possible. This strange behavior seemed expected in the back of my mind. Meanwhile, meteors are hitting in the distance.

Later, my dream seems to shift and I am with some unknown people (or composite variations of male classmates from high school) in a casual street scene. One asks me if I had been “damaged”, referring to my childhood and relationship with my brother Earl (died November 29, 2007 at only 67), and my response is a cheerful confirmation that I had not been. He was not mean-spirited or abusive in any way, even though he did steal from family members at times.

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Morning of August 26, 2007. Sunday.



In my dream, my family and I go to a public event that is similar to a carnival but mostly held inside. There is an older man of about fifty years of age doing a comedy routine, and he mentions how, if what he is saying sounds familiar to the audience, that he did the same comedy act (saying the exact same things) in the 1940s - which of course would not really fit with his apparent age if true. There is a very large rhinoceros on display, with a monkey in a small hanging cage nearby. This part is actually similar to a dream that I had years ago - “Hotel Future” (link).

The rhinoceros is not caged but is on a stage and there are clips or clothespins (tied to fishing line) attached to his skin along his back, supposedly to keep him from getting away. A couple people who work there are kicked against the monkey cage by the rhinoceros and one gets seriously hurt. The rhinoceros escapes, but I sense no danger to my family or myself, as water is rising from a sprinkler system because of a fire caused by the rhinoceros kicking a burning barrel over - probably used by a person that “swallows fire” in their performance - and this rhinoceros for some reason cannot seem to move when in the water, which is only about knee-deep at first.

Later, as it continues to “rain” inside the building, I am in a car (no connection to real life) with a few members of my family, including my wife. Several mischievous teenagers are playing around with the fire alarm and sprinkler system settings, and an unknown man (possibly maintenance personnel) hollers at them. The water is slowly still rising, and since the fire is out, I wonder why no one stops the “rain” (and the inside flooding) in the building as I wake.

Morning of October 4, 1982. Monday.



I am seemingly traveling on my own, heading south to an uncertain destination. There are a lot of isolated areas with a lot of shrubs, mostly. There are some back roads I follow here and there. Vaguely, I am trying to remember if I should be getting to work and what day it is.

I discover an unusual farmhouse behind a cluster of higher shrubs. It looks abandoned. Just south of that are a few more houses, but more modern-looking. They still seem a bit unmaintained in some ways or perhaps not yet completed. A man of about forty is on a smaller tractor mower in the backyard of one larger property. I ignore him at first.

I investigate the farmhouse, going inside through a door hanging from one hinge at an angle. There are also piles of wood blocking some other areas. There is sort of a damp smell and a desolate mood at first. Not much happens. I look around and notice that the decor is fairly unusual, but I am not sure why.

Finally, I go into a room that has a book on a desk but the paper is unusual, somewhat felt-like, and the ink is a bit fuzzy. There is an old photograph of a beautiful girl that lived in the house (late 1940s?) before it was abandoned due to a “natural disaster”. Looking around, it is possible that the disaster was a flood, as some features seem to relate to water somehow, as perhaps reminiscent of something you would see on an old ship. There is some sort of lantern or old-fashioned kerosene lamp but it has a different design somehow.

Looking at the book, which seems to be a diary, I discover, through images and seemingly discerning some of the writing, that the girl had a pet otter that she really cared for. I do not think that she had it in a cage. I sense a strange sadness at the idea of someone leaving their home after a seeming longer history in the region and wonder what had happened to them.

Later, a couple other people are in their yard. One may be the man I saw on the lawn mower. He tells me that the whole area had been under water until fairly recently. He mentions that the farmhouse was there long before the new houses were built south of it.

It dawns on me that the girl and her parents were some sort of aquatic human-like creatures (but mostly human in appearance) and that the “natural disaster” was not a flood, but the waters receding so that they had to leave their home to go to a river or lake somewhere to get away from land-dwelling humans, especially. Thus it turns out that this was one of those intriguing endings (and a very similar mood and awareness) that seemed to have intense sarcasm for “every man” along similar lines as “I’m Eager Beaver” and “The Four-Fanged Snake of Swamp Garden”, two of which I have already posted.