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    1. The “Patches” Odyssey, Part Two

      by , 11-02-2018 at 05:02 PM
      Morning of May 24, 1970. Sunday.

      Dream #: 1,252-01. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 73.

      In Part One of “The ‘Patches’ Odyssey,” I described the beginning of my dream, of which was like watching the opening credits of the animated musical “Gay Purr-ee” (1962). “Opening credits” had been a part of many other dream state beginnings in my childhood, but this was clearer and brighter than usual. There were several different versions of the “Patches” dreams (later ones by intent), though with the same main segments.

      After the alligators had flipped our canoe, they drag Brenda to the opposite side of the river from where Toby and I had been in the cypress trees. In addition to the “alligator king” character being influenced by “Turok Son of Stone,” the scenario itself was from an influence of the cover of the January 1968 issue.

      Toby and I are later on the opposite bank of the river. We discover that Brenda is on her back, presumably having drowned, draped over a tree stump, with water dripping from her shoes (which are dark blue with silver buckles). I am kneeling before the dramatic scene on one knee. There is no blood or gore. Eventually, three bats fly around and seem to mourn the scene. I am also aware that they are fairies which may be able to heal her at a later date. (This stems from earlier dream segments about three fairies changing into different forms, including bats, birds, butterflies, and moths.) They sing the Dickey Lee song “Patches” with different lyrics, which oddly distort to “down by the sea” (instead of “down by the river,” even though the setting is near the river and not the ocean). Her resurrection is a result of otherworldly magic.

      In another dream segment, Brenda is missing. She had been kidnapped by a man who sells Holy Bibles from a small market stall. I follow the three entities (that are now butterflies that become moths as evening approaches). I discover that Brenda has been tied up and gagged and kept behind the market stall on the lowest shelf facing the inside. The unfamiliar man (who presents a mean visage) is selling small King James Bibles with both black and white simulated leather covers. I untie and rescue her when he is elsewhere. Red silk bookmarks of the type sewn into the Holy Bibles were sewn together and had been used to tie her up. (There may be an association with snakes, as such bookmarks are narrow and red as well as forked on the outside end.)

      In an offset segment, a literal bed space strand occurs. I see myself as sleeping in the southwest bedroom (my parents’ bedroom that my father later used for music). The head of the bed was against the west wall, where there was a row of three big jalousie windows in reality. In my dream, however, there was only one sash window in the middle of the west wall. It has twelve small panes. The top three are missing.

      End of Part Two. There will be one more main part.

    2. Rescue in the Philippines

      by , 06-08-2018 at 10:20 AM
      Morning of June 8, 2018. Friday.

      I am uncertain of the foundation of my dream, as I become aware at the beginning of a scenario that takes place in the Philippines. (My brother’s Filipino wife-to-be and daughter are presently in the Philippines.) It begins as the common water induction (which is autosymbolic induction into awareness of sleep dynamics and the internal body clock as analogous to tidal factors of Earth), but I originally start out walking from a featureless small dark room that directly leads to a small beach with a small wooden dock, the following scenario of which seems to be taking place in early afternoon. (Of course, the small dark room is autosymbolism for the state of unconsciousness. As dreams come by way of the dynamic preconscious; which is one level above the subconscious self; I only become subconsciously aware when it is precursory to potential consciousness modelling in REM sleep. It is also precursory of the emergent consciousness factor, as precursory at one level down.)

      An unknown female (though of whom is a subliminal thread of Zsuzsanna without my conscious self identity being extant) is sitting on the dock (which validates it is Zsuzsanna on this side of liminal space, as the subconscious self has no viable memory and what memory there is is mediated by the preconscious, unique each time). An unknown Filipino male (of about twenty) is sitting on the right side of the dock, his legs over the edge. Apparently, a young boy has been kidnapped and the female is trying to reason with one of the men involved in the kidnapping, which seems politically motivated.

      I walk onto the dock, my dream self’s awareness increasing as a result. The other male looks at me as I sit down. “What are you supposed to be, a medicine man?” he asks me sarcastically. He seems to think the female hired me to rescue the boy. I am aware that I am now wearing a Native American breastplate and tribal regalia. He talks about the kidnapping of the boy as if the act was justified. He takes out an AK-47 from underneath the dock that had somehow been attached to its underside. I have a vivid awareness. On one level, I feel as if he might shoot me, yet on another level I feel something in my mind that is not lucidity, but some other form of augmented self-awareness (of which allows me to non-lucidly alter and sustain my dream). Additionally, the gun seems to have an unlikely hollow essence, somewhat like several pieces of hollow plastic loosely fitted together, though I still decide to perceive it as “real”. (This unfamiliar male is the preconscious, but I non-lucidly modulate my dream back into the water induction stage in the next scene. Typically, the preconscious modulates the subconscous self, but that depends on the level and degree of waking process priority.)

      Another one of the kidnappers, also male, is now present on the dock. I decide to go and find the boy, as these people are starting to annoy me. The female is no longer present. I wave the dock away but I am still standing on the surface of the water as the others fall in and seem to have difficulty swimming. I am barefoot (subliminal awareness of not wearing shoes while in bed). I enjoy splashing around on the water’s surface without sinking. I walk on the water for several minutes, vividly feeling the essence and movement of the wonderful water beneath me. One of the kidnappers agrees to show me where the boy is being held. Although he cannot walk on water as I can, he is able to swim for a distance until I decide to fly and carry him.

      We reach a room where several males are sitting at a wooden table. One of them is the boy. His face is full of bruises and spots of blood. I lightly touch his face and he is then seemingly unhurt and in a better state of health and clarity of mind. I think of doing this to the kidnappers, but when I touch two of them, they fall over, possibly dead. (This is because the boy is the emergent consciousness personified while the others are preconscious minions or virtual “echoes” that become sublimated in my liminal choice to correlate with the waking process.) I get into one conversation about Jesus. I am supposedly a descendant of Jesus (ironic as I am not a Christian). Something in my blood supposedly gives me divine abilities.

      I decide to fly the boy back to the previous location. On the way, we fly through a large hall that seems to be outside and inside at the same time, but is still supposedly part of the ocean. (This is typical water lowering waking symbolism, as I am aware the hall’s water is of a much lower depth than the rest of the ocean.)

    3. From a Boat Trip to an Unsolved Kidnapping

      by , 05-27-2018 at 09:47 AM
      Morning of May 27, 2018. Sunday.

      Typical RAS modulation autosymbolism was going strong in this non-lucid dream but still did not activate the waking process, so I slept a couple hours longer than I usually do (even though Zsuzsanna and our children were up and in the lounge room with the television on at one point). If I cannot rely on RAS to wake me at a certain time with unique dream content (which is what a dream’s autosymbolism is inherently for) at the top of an ultradian rhythm, then I consider that very unusual.

      In the first part of my dream, the setting is a unique new variation of the King Street mansion, the second-floor apartment in the middle of the east side of the house. My non-lucid dream self does not care that it is an impossible setting. I happily sit around on the floor for awhile listening to bizarre fictitious music (on a record player yet) where the lyrics make no sense at all. The “music” seems to have rock elements, but the male vocals are mostly randomly spoken phrases. I hear the audience cheering, so it must be a live recording. At one point, he chants slowly but loudly and clearly, “Yellow bathroom”. (This is a biological hint to my dream self, but I do not feel the need to use the bathroom in my dream.)

      I notice my curtains are open, and I see an unfamiliar male lying on his left side on a ledge, in his underwear, enjoying the wind and smiling. It seems to be late morning. Apparently, he is enjoying the music I am playing. (Of course, this is a liminal projection of how my real physical body is as I sleep.) I am annoyed that neighbors can see in, so I attempt to close the curtain. (In reality, this scene could not be possible either, as the windows had only a view of the front of the house across the street, so there was no side of a house right near the King Street house, though what does my non-lucid dream self care, from a lack of any viable connection with either the unconscious mind or my conscious self.)

      I hear an unfamiliar girl’s voice yelling about my music, and their music is turned on more loudly, even though the male was enjoying my music. (I did not think my music was loud at all.) A different male argues with her and there is yelling for a short time. I go into a different room and I am now in the lounge room of the Stadcor Street house (which only has the first floor) with Zsuzsanna. Now, the events are shifted to the first floor in the house next door as well (and as usual my dream self does not notice the impossible change). I mention something to Zsuzsanna about the music and an unfamiliar male, who can see into our house through our window from his window, loudly says, “You think you can beat me?” I reply by yelling, “Why don’t you leave us alone?” I then yell at no one in particular, “I’m tired of crazy people always living next door to us!”

      I go out to the front yard and bash several unfamiliar males on the head with my Olympic barbel (no weights) and swing it around like a baseball bat until no one else is standing or moving. My dream shifts into reinduction rather than the waking process during the RAS modulation event and I now find myself riding in a skiff tied to the back of a small motor yacht. Curiously, I do not recognize this scene for what it is and no lucidity is triggered, only an elevated vividness. I am now a female (of about twenty-five), though not a female I have any conscious knowledge of. A man tells me to tie an additional length of rope from my boat to the back of his motor yacht (as the previous one had apparently came off and I am now drifting over the ocean). I somehow do this even though the distance would not logically allow it. I throw the rope and pull it lightly, but a large knot seems to make itself with no effort on my part (to my left; reinduction orientation and stabilizing). “That’s a good knot,” says the unfamiliar captain from the other boat. A few other unfamiliar people look on.

      After a time, I am “myself” (though only about twenty-five) and another (unfamiliar) male is sitting to my right. We are still on a skiff on the ocean, but there is no other boat now. We go through an ambiguous area where it seems I am inside a house for a short distance even though we are also on the ocean. I notice many large sharks swimming below us. The water is unrealistically clear. I am wondering if there is any danger, though I do not feel concerned. The other male denies there is any danger and tells me how sharks only eat things that are at its own level in the water. I do not feel any fear, more like cheerfulness (almost comedic) even though there seem to be hundreds of sharks below us.

      Soon, the scene shifts and I am walking with the same male and an unfamiliar female. We are in an unfamiliar town near mostly commercial buildings. After we walk a short distance, the male vanishes. We look back to see someone running in the distance. Suddenly, I am aware that we will be blamed for the kidnapping of the male that vanished. We are carrying small plastic bags. We stop to look inside them. The girl’s bag has the ID of the male that vanished. I know that the police will be here soon and that we are being framed by an unknown person. I take the ID and throw it behind a soda vending machine thinking it will not be found and that I am being careful and intelligent in my action.

      The police arrive and I am still holding one of the small plastic bags. The scene somehow shifts to where I am in a police station (though of more of a restaurant appearance). The police officer is looking at the supposedly kidnapped man’s credit card (made of cardboard), a large sparse clump of hair, and some other items. The officers do not seem to think I had anything to do with anything, but I still tell them we were framed. (The girl is soon no longer present.) “Can you take fingerprints from plastic bags?” I ask. I say, “I know my fingerprints are on them, but they will probably also have the fingerprints of the kidnapper.”

      “Can you take fingerprints from hair,” I ask. “Can you take prints from paper?” A police officer at a counter looks at me as if he is wondering why I am still here. Two other officers look at me annoyingly as well. They are not interested in me at all. I decide to finally leave my dream (in a liminal state, as I am not viably lucid until the last moments) and finally wake as I step through the door. (This last part is quite odd. I am liminally trying to force RAS modulation by way of my conscious self, but nothing happens, probably because the process is often transpersonal in origin in its natural form. On one level, something similar occurred recently, where I learned I was not in trouble for “killing” an unknown male, though my dream self had the opposite focus as to this one and I did not seem to be as fully modulating it myself.)

    4. Rescuing the Taken

      by , 10-16-2014 at 04:16 PM
      Morning of October 16, 2014. Thursday.

      I have had kidnapping dreams since early childhood from various perspectives, including the rescue of Brenda W (as the precognitive wife-to-be “stand-in”) in the recurring “Patches” dream as well as escaping from a villainous Ricardo Montalbán by phasing and flying through the roof of a taxi in “My Little Cane”, but this one is atypical and quite vivid. In my dream, there is recent news of a child having vanished from her parents’ apartment on the third floor. Her name is Elly. (The name is seemingly unrelated to any real-life character though may possibly be a play on my wife’s middle name of Gabrielle or of our youngest daughter’s first name Isabelle.)

      This is also one of the only dreams in my lifetime (especially in recent years) where I seemed to have a more discernible stronger fear to a point where it “reset” and had a replay. (Not only that, I woke up with my eyelids inside-out, which made my wife ask if I was okay. Of all the bizarre events I have lived through, that has not happened before to my knowledge.) This is not like the purposely instigated dinosaur-chase dreams (which I no longer have) but something quite different. I seem to be some sort of “medium” where I can pick up on someone else’s state of emotion. I “become” the apparently kidnapped girl at least in a sort of remote-viewing awareness. I strongly sense her feeling of being lost and away from her home. I clearly feel her vulnerability (as I believe she is only about three years old). It causes me to scream twice yet this is not “me”, it is the other entity within me and someone I may be able to help. The scream mostly comes from seemingly having my arm twisted too far around (when walking in a particular direction), which seems to be a fairly common fear of someone this age. (Most people seem to completely forget what it was like as a child, which seems odd to me, as I still am able to clearly remember the quite different size orientation and unusual perspective (compared to now) as well as how imposing, cruel, and obnoxious older people seem even when they do not mean to be.) I “recover” from that state and go for a walk. The scenario seems fairly convenient. I already see her older brother and an older sister in the area. (Her parents have a total of three children.) The area seems like a typical composite, seemingly with features of La Crosse and Brisbane mashed together ambiguously.

      I go to the apartment to check out the location. I apparently have some sense of “detection” relative to the previous in-dream event, sort of like X-ray vision via my hands as I hold them up and about to use this ability. I can still “hear” her mood at times, but I think she is sleeping presently. I end up going about two blocks past the parents’ apartment into a different apartment building. On the second floor, I sense a presence. The environment itself seems to react to my intent. Oddly, a wheelbarrow is in the hall. The wheelbarrow actually stands upright on its handles, using its handles to walk about somewhat mechanically. It knocks against the door, seemingly “communicating” with me that this is where the girl is.

      I go in without fear and notice a clutter near the door but am still able to get through. A Caucasian male is watching television. He is probably about forty, quite chubby and mostly balding, wearing a white tank top. I ask him where Elly is and he does not seem surprised. I also tell him that he would not believe the nature of how I found her, that is, until the wheelbarrow “walks” into the room on its handles. I am not sure of what sort of character this is and am not sure if the wheelbarrow will somehow “eat” him. It seems possible that the girl just wandered off, but I am ready to take her home at any rate. She does not seem hurt; just a bit frail and weak, sleeping. She has dark curly hair (similar to my wife’s).

      I pick her up and when I go outside, carrying her, it begins to rain fairly heavily as I am walking, but the heavy, cold drops are rather sparse. The external walls of various buildings are to my left, but there are no awnings or extended roofs to take cover under. A few drops of cool rain fall on her face and start to revive her and she moans and blinks at the raindrops falling on her face. Her eyes are green and catlike (also like my wife’s). This part; imagery, orientation, movement, augmented touch; all extremely vivid as life. It is quite amazing.

      I get to the other apartment and although it is difficult to balance and climb the steps while carrying her, I get to the next landing. A (unknown) male asks me if it is Elly and I say yes and he says that it is the first good news he has heard all day, seemingly in contrast to some sort of business franchise not working out as well as general world news in the media. My dream fades as I reach the door of her apartment, after going into low-flying mode to avoid the step-by-step “problematic” staircase.

      Updated 08-13-2015 at 07:11 PM by 1390