Blue_Opossum

Morning of November 10, 2018. Saturday.

Dream #: 18,954-02. Reading time: 2 min 26 sec. Readability score: 66.



I am looking at a map of the island of Sulawesi (Celebes) with its very unusual shape. I notice an isolated fictitious town with the name of “Core” that is otherwise where Central, West, and South Sulawesi meet. There are mostly only native inhabitants there. I project my dream self into the map to create the foundation of my dream. I decide I will play the role of introducing new opportunities and resources to the region.

At one point, I mentally create diced pineapples in a bowl and the tribal leader enjoys them. I reassure him that I will only allow a few tourists to come to the area only during certain time periods and that I will have my team clean the region on a regular basis.

At another point, several soldiers, all in black, come to occupy the area. I mentally create an army that comes in from a ship and wipes them all out.

I decide to go on a journey to Los Angeles. An unfamiliar backpacker asks if he can go with us, and I say yes. I enjoy the idea of a random dream denizen (almost as if I see him as “real” or having perception) being on my ship in my dream. Although the trip is supposed to last several days, we arrive there within minutes. I try to make the ocean waves more interesting. In the distance, there seem to be huge “curtains.”

I alter the nature and progression of my dream with the intent of increasing my dream state awareness. I create rain to sustain and vivify my dream to astounding levels (as water and its specific dynamics has always been a natural melatonin factor of the dream state). The weight and coolness of the water is incredibly realistic. I slowly fly in standing position above an unknown town in semidarkness. I marvel at the pleasurable sensations of the rain that falls upon my skin and the realistic, vivid sound of rain all around me. I fly slowly over a small canal with culverts on each end.

I eventually land and bring out the sun. I walk down a wooden sidewalk and notice the nexus simulacrum (personified preconscious) going through a doorway built adjacent to the building on my right but of which goes to the intersection, but I mentally force him to turn around. I ask him, “What is your name?” He looks puzzled and in a hurry. “What is your name?” I ask him two more times, in case there is an interconsciousness thread present.

I maintain the expectation that the nexus simulacrum may have a level of transpersonal intelligence that may not originate from my dream self.

He answers with “Dennis Sunimun.” I let him leave, as he seems late for a business meeting. Still, “Dennis” is the name of my brother and “Sunimun” is an obvious distortion of “sunny man.” I was hoping for something more, evidence of intelligence beyond my own, which has been present in certain previous dreams.

I reset my dream, with the possibility I will wake myself, but I end up in an offset dream of lesser vividness. Still, I make my way to a library to write down the event. I walk through midair, about ten feet above the street, with a few random people.

In the library, I read handwritten details in a notebook. I write “Dennis Sunimun” several times, but when I look each time, I am not sure if it is clear enough to carry over into my conscious memory and I try writing it again. Finally, I go into another area of the library and walk out with my family.

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Morning of January 1, 2002. Tuesday.

Dream #: 12,797-05. Reading time: 48 sec.



I am in the northeast corner of the Cubitis living room listening to records on a gramophone of surreal appearance. The scene does not trigger any sense of wrongness. I see it as “mine.”

I am later looking at a map of the Aleutian Islands, though I am unsure of what I am doing. I know what I am looking at has significance. The region is incorrectly above the northwest area of Australia, though I do not see it as incorrect. The world does not have much land. Most of the eastern hemisphere seems mainly small islands. (The scenario has occurred in other dreams.)

While outside, I see an unusual light in the sky. It is eventually clearer. It is a piece of the moon, shaped like a jigsaw puzzle piece. It is returning to the moon like a “spaceship.” I see cracks on the moon’s surface that define the shapes of standard jigsaw puzzle pieces. There is a sense of both peace and puzzlement.

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The main dream state indicator was “The Aleutian Islands,” “Aleutian” sounding somewhat like “illusion” (as a dream state reference). Jigsaw puzzle patterns occur when a dream causes puzzlement in ambiguous liminal space between dreaming and waking.

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Morning of December 14, 1979. Friday.



I perceive myself as being someone else; an unknown male of about forty. I seem to be planning where soldiers will go by using a large map that covers a table, and I point out locations as other males stand around watching. The country that the war is against is unknown, but is possibly China (though it may also be somewhere in Africa, though that seems illogical in conscious afterthought).

Over time, it becomes obvious that I have made a mistake, in that a large yellow butterfly has landed on the map, by which I am then incorrectly designating features of the butterfly’s wings as being rivers, rivulets, and locations of possible villages. The people observing and listening to my instructions do not seem that concerned or amused, but I notice a few walking away.

The butterfly has landed so that its head is over a delta and its superimposition also creates the illusion that its bottom half is over the ocean or other body of water. At one point, I am trying to work out where the perimeter of the butterfly ends and the map details begin.

When I look up, many people have gone to a different table, where at least three unfamiliar males, possibly astronauts in blue coveralls, are looking at a larger map on a table, one male pointing at it with a pointing stick. (This scene was directly influenced by a View-Master “Project Apollo” frame, which I gazed at many times as a boy.)

I am somewhat puzzled. The butterfly has made my presentation problematic but now I am vaguely unsure if the meeting was about going to war, or returning to Earth. Somehow, “returning to Earth” does not seem quite right as it would entail that we are not on Earth presently (though this is not certain either).

Explanation:

Over twenty percent of my dreams since early childhood have rendered return-to-consciousness symbolism as related to flight, though always unique, with positive, negative, or neutral imagery which often seems unrelated to waking life (though is sometimes validated as prescience). This is obviously based on subliminally anticipated hypnopompic effects, mainly including the feeling of falling (which is spontaneous and biological, without the pretense of “interpretation”).

The concept of war in this case is related to the “struggle” of the fictional dream self, the transient identity and neural patterns changing via the dynamics of emergent consciousness and beginning wakefulness, which is sometimes represented by the color yellow (though red when I have been sleeping too long). It is also seen as a “journey”. In this case, it is even more obvious by the questioning of whether we are on Earth. Technically, we are not, as it is the dream state and I am not walking around on the real Earth.

There are some curious layers here including “delta” as an association with sleep as well as ocean waves, a play on “delta waves” (relating to deeper sleep rather than REM). It is also associated with the song “Delta Dawn” (sunrise). Water is my most common association with being in the dream state (and its sound has been used in virtually endless commercial relaxation recordings to bring about sleep). The butterfly creates an illusion of “returning to land”, which is akin to returning to the real world from the dream state (as thousands of my dreams have been proven to contain this same type of waking symbolism, though always unique).

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Morning of December 2, 1972. Saturday.



I am at some sort of business possibly on the second floor, in a large room, which seems like some sort of larger composite that includes my Cubitis bedroom. The orientation seems to be that I am looking south throughout my dream, associating it with my classroom as well (to a lesser extent).

Behind an unknown older male in a darker blue business suit who is standing near a large desk (about four times bigger than office desks I have seen in television shows and at school) is a very large wall-spanning map of the world. It looks a bit different at different times. There is also a large globe on the left that reminds me of a recent one I received as a combined birthday and Christmas (December 20th and 25th) package in the mail from my sister Carol.

The concept of whatever is going on is not very coherent. It is something to do with the “real” Atlas - the giant man that supposedly holds the planet Earth on his shoulders. I am not sure this is literal or some sort of metaphorical model but what I do know is that there is some sort of potential problem regarding the business (due to not operating twenty-four hours a day or some such) and something related to how the countries are to be displayed. This seems to be in regard to some sort of rental payment required to be displayed or acknowledged on the globe. At one point, the globe seems to be mostly only wire-framed and missing most of the surface detail due to the business doors being closed for Christmas vacation. I am not directly involved in anything.

There is a sense of misdirected wariness that this business may be making Atlas irritated so that some countries or regions may experience problems such as earthquakes or floods or that Atlas may become annoyed at having to observe long business meetings from wherever he actually is. Again, I am not sure how literal this association with the “real” Atlas is. However, the main theme seems to be that Atlas was doing fine until certain people “invaded” his day to day duty and turned it into a profiteering venture. There is even a lesser idea that a “rotational tax” has to be paid by everyone to keep the world turning on its axis, since they are the ones that claim they are keeping the world rotating (this seems to be in conflict with the static image of Atlas holding up the world - as such, how would it rotate?).