Blue_Opossum

Optimized 1 minute 45 second read.

Thursday morning, 2 October 2014.

A Big Fly Crawls From a Small Pipe and Bites Me

Dream # 17,454-02.

I am in the bathroom of my current real-life home. I recall I need to replace a tap spindle because the shower’s hot water does not turn off completely. (In reality, the spindle threads had worn; the handle turned without tightening.)

I focus on an area near the ceiling where a small pipe capped with a bolt juts diagonally downward. (The feature does not exist in reality.)

Something undetermined inside the pipe, seemingly alive, is slowly pushing out the bolt. It turns out to be an unnaturally big green bottle fly doing this. It emerges after it pushes the bolt out. (There is no backstory implying how it got inside the pipe.)

The fly painfully bites the middle of my right forearm, which I assume may be fatal. Without emotion (because of dream state intuition), I sit at the foot of our bed to wait for Zsuzsanna.

An unfamiliar man of about 40 (this dream’s protoconsciousness) sits in our lounge room. I do not perceive him as an intruder. I think he might be here to help me with either the plumbing or my presumed medical emergency (even though such an immediate response would be impossible in reality), but he does not react.

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Upon waking, I realized my dream’s pain was an exaggeration of “pins and needles” caused by uncomfortably sleeping on my right arm. (I often sleep on my left side, unlike here.)

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A life form emerging from somewhere, especially an enclosed area, correlates with my anticipation of exiting the dream state. It is as simple as that.

The fly (somatosensory anticipation from neuronal energies increasing) emerges from the pipe (REM atonia decreasing through spinal neurons).

There is an additional association with achieving arm and hand mobility and strength because I swat at annoying flies in real life. My dream’s beginning exemplifies REM atonia by focusing on a tap handle unresponsive to a hand tightening it.

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If you still do not understand dream content causality, review the following:

I am uncomfortably sleeping on my right arm. REM atonia (natural immobility while sleeping) is also a factor here.

The dream state responds to this by presenting a situation where using my right arm (to tighten a tap) is infeasible.

Spinal (to the upper end of the “pipe”) motor neurons (“buzzing fly”) increase my awareness of my wrongful sleeping position until pain (“fatal” fly bite) becomes the predominant focus.

Sitting at the foot of our bed in the last scene demonstrates metacognition as a precursor to wakefulness.

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Morning of November 23, 2013. Saturday.

Dream #: 17,141-02. Reading time: 2 min 42 sec.



I am in the Stadcor Street house, though unaware it is a place where we had lived. The house has boxes and furniture in all the rooms, but there is water everywhere that covers much of it. It seems as if there a river within the house. I try to get through one area from the lounge room to the kitchen and sometimes go lower or under the shoulder-high water to pull myself back up while using boxes or furniture to stabilize my position. An old unknown male on a raft drifts by, seemingly annoyed by my presence.

Later, I am outside with Zsuzsanna near a big (fictitious) garage. The area is inhabited by people who are like composites of pilgrims and hillbillies with a colonial mentality. They are xenophobes. A man who reminds me of VonHelton, a conspiracy theorist on YouTube, is present. I was supposed to give him something from the house, but I had forgotten what it was.

“What does an injun and a gypsy hope to find here?” he loudly inquires, waving his arms around. He has a long white scraggly beard and reminds me of the personas from “Bugs Bunny: Hillbilly Hare.” There is a big table where there are old one-of-a-kind books. One of the people near the table seems friendly. Another man looks at me and tells me to be careful with the “one-of-a-kind” books, and I stare him down while telling him that I am “one-of-a-kind.” However, it also seems that similar “one-of-a-kind” books are underwater back in the house.

Time passes, and I seem to be Zsuzsanna, but my voice seems to be mine. No one notices. I am looking through books on family names. There is an ancestor on Zsuzsanna’s mother’s side named either Mark Davids or David Marks, but it seems unlikely in my dream (in real life, it is “Marks,” anglicized from the original name). The book I am looking through as Zsuzsanna while speaking to other people at the table has the names in proximity. One features in a comic-strip-like section (though with real photographs) as a Czechoslovakian pirate chasing another man who ends up neck-high in a river near mossy rocks. (There is a “Czech Pirate Party” - “Pirate Parties were established in many European countries as a protest against the restriction of the civil rights by lobby groups.” There may be influence from the news “Hundreds of rampaging neo-Nazis attempt pogrom against Romani people in Ostrava.”)

I continue to read (as Zsuzsanna) information on her father’s people and the genocide that is still an issue. (In real life, he had escaped to Australia). There is a connection to the word “pogrom” and the name “Ostrava” and other terms, some fictitious, the main word being “Sym,” which supposedly means a pogrom against the “gypsies” (Romani). It could be a play on “Sim.” It seems to be “Sxm” at times. (There was a “precognitive” thread here, though likely telepathic for lack of a better word. Toby had posted “Sxm” on Facebook right after I started writing this entry - his own new shortened form of the name of a radio station he had never posted about before.)

I become aware my youngest son is here. I open a book and in the back, between the back cover and the last page, is a big praying mantis preserved much like a leaf, its wings (somewhat semi-circular) spread out. It is nearly the size of the page. It floats in the air for a short time before drifting back down onto the page, as if from a subtle life-force, perhaps from suspended animation. It is the most vivid part of my dream. My son watches with mild interest but does not speak. I am thinking, as Zsuzsanna, that I should “find my husband.”

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I have added another “precognitive” facet even though the matching dream content of another poster had an older date. It was posted right after mine (so I am adding the “dream journal synchronicity” tag). Ashzepplin’s online dream journal (dream id 189743) no longer exists.

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Morning of June 23, 1981. Tuesday.

Dream #: 5,300-02. Reading time: 50 sec.



I am in the Chipmunk Coulee region in Wisconsin, where I have not lived since I was about five years of age. I am in a clearing just outside a wooded area on a hill. It seems isolated, peaceful, and beautiful. I am unaware of anyone else.

Eventually, it is nighttime. I see a big bright greenish-yellow light that I cannot identify. At first, I think it may be a spacecraft. As it comes closer, I see it is a giant firefly, about the size of a small airplane. It does not seem to be a threat, though there is a sense of puzzlement and wonder.

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[projected transitional vestibular system correlation]

This event type, though always different in each sleep cycle, is a result of projected anticipation of the waking process itself and stems from the correlation of the imaginary physicality of the dream state with my legitimate physicality and orientation.

Yellow (especially as light) is a factor of emerging consciousness associated with sunrise, often only discernible in the final stage of a dream.

I anticipate the dream state as being unlike waking life. The result of my thought creates a UFO, but it resolves as the increasing mental energy of my emerging consciousness. The result is a positive and wondrous association.

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