• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. Hopefully Leaving the Moon Soon

      by , 08-19-2018 at 06:09 AM
      Morning of August 19, 2018. Sunday.

      Reading time: 49 sec. Readability score: 67.

      In my dream, I am on the moon with at least two other astronauts. (I do not interact with them, at least to the point of recall.) I do not question the situation at all.

      Over time, there is wariness about the air becoming thinner. (Curiously, it is otherwise fully breathable.) There is also the idea it may become too hot to survive. A NASA team is scheduled to come and get us before it is too late, but I am wondering if it will be in time. There is a vague concern, but no emotional state.

      The area of the moon I remain in has an essence of bilocation with the backyard of Cubitis, in this case, where the shed was. That had happened in previous dreams, but mostly in childhood.

      My dream was mainly caused by having too many blankets on me as I slept and I got overheated. There was no evidence of infra-mediation (or non-lucid dream control - for example, I did not non-lucidly summon the appearance of the NASA extraction team before I woke), and my infra-awareness was less than usual, which it would have to be to non-lucidly dream about being on the moon with a subliminally bilocated Earth location.

      Tags: heat, moon, thin air
    2. The Moon Gun

      by , 02-02-2018 at 08:02 AM
      Morning of February 2, 2018. Friday.

      I find myself in an unknown and unfamiliar location, though as my dream self, I do not think of it as such. Zsuzsanna is present in the majority of scenes, which involve my usage of a raygun in an unusual activity.

      At first, only sparks come out. I find myself in an unfamiliar room where an unknown female (of about thirty) sits near a desk. As I aim it upwards at nothing in particular, sparks fly out and one lands on the female’s knee, which apparently hurts. I apologize for this, but when the sparks land on me, they create a pleasant sensation.

      In most other scenes, I am outside, though under some sort of shelter with industrial implications of which include a convergence of many different horizontal and vertical pipes. There is a square opening through the ceiling and roof of no more than one foot by one foot. I have an unusual false memory that the moon powers the gun, but I only use it to fire upward. I stand in one area, aiming it through the opening in the ceiling. Over time, the miniature radar dish at the front of the gun starts shining when I hold it upward in a certain position that apparently reflects the moon’s light. I do not actually see the moon at any point.

      I perform this act a number of times. It seems to make my dream more vivid each time. I go to a different area that has a smaller opening, hold my gun upward, and move it about until I see the moon shine on the miniature radar dish in a circular fullness and then I pull the trigger. The beam of light that emerges is about an inch in diameter.

      There eventually seems to be a vague backstory, based on an emergent false memory, relating to a recent alien invasion, though there is no hint of any impending threat. I aim the gun at another part of the ceiling in the realization that it will destroy the structure. I wake with the perception that I had accomplished the defeat of a supposed alien threat.

      Explanatory supplement (Saturday, 3 February 2018): This dream occurs by way of liminal dream control, which means that my dream self is habitually acting out the dynamics of oneironautics (which represents the nature of the dream state, not waking life) without being actively aware that the environment and situation is of the dream state as with conscious-self-based lucidity. This is based on autosymbolic cues from subliminal threads of the conscious self identity. This should be obvious from how my dream self’s actions vivified the dream state even though my dream self’s motive from the outset was not clear. My dream self eventually focused on destroying the alien building. This was the liminal space barrier between my dream self identity and my conscious self identity, the opening in the ceiling being autosymbolism for my dream’s potential exit point back into viable consciousness. (It was somewhat small, which is moot, as the entire building was apparently gone at the waking point.) The miniature radar dish, glowing more over time and producing more energy and a wider beam of light, signified the increase in neural activity as the emergent consciousness implementation.

      This invalidates the asinine belief that the conscious self experiences something that must be “interpreted” solely in conscious self terms, incorrectly assumed as “from the subconscious” (rather than correctly understood as RAS mediation between the transient dream self identity and the conscious self identity). It is the dream self that is the subconscious, which is coalesced by way of RAS (Reticular Activating System) into consciousness through the waking transition, which is what a dream is (which most people have no understanding of).

      Additionally, Zsuzsanna’s dream showed threads of associations with my dream in the very common but inexplicable (by society’s beliefs) patterns. This is evidence that RAS mediation is transpersonal, and distance does not seem to matter (as this was occurring before I even met Zsuzsanna, and we had grown up on opposite sides of the world).

      Tags: beam, gun, moon, moonlight
    3. Total Freedom in Lucid Dreaming

      by , 09-19-2017 at 03:19 PM
      Morning of September 19, 2017. Tuesday.

      In the first part of my dream, in the first non-lucid segment, I am in a typical scenario where I am in a bookstore (or what is firstly perceived as one) and looking at various comic books and graphic novels. This goes on for a long time as I gather a stack together to keep. The books are unfamiliar, thus new to me, though some are implied to be older (as far back as the 1970s).

      At this stage, the personified preconscious is present as a younger unfamiliar male. Curiously, he is painting, as if there was also an art studio here. It is not much bigger than A4 size and lying on the table that I am sitting at eventually. It seems to be a landscape with flowers in the foreground.

      I tell him how I had painted, with a paint-by-number kit when I was a boy, two skulls. I explain how they were two singular portraits of skeletal pirates, shown from about the chest up. (This is based on a real-life event and thus atypically, is a real memory.) He said he had never heard of them. “Oh, they were quite popular,” I reply. I then go on to describe how my older brother Earl had started a very large paint-by-number of the Mona Lisa, but had never finished. (This was also a real event, from the early 1970s.)

      Eventually, I decide to walk out of what now seems like a second-hand store. I have a stack of graphic novels and comic books at least a foot high. However, it seems confused with the free bookstore, where (in real life) there is no one present other than the patrons and one is trusted to trade books of equal value on their own. A cashier, an older unfamiliar female, stops me by asking what I am doing. She is at a counter to my right. Apparently, I have to pay for the books, possibly a lot of money, which I do not have on me, which I tell her. I also protest in that I tell her I had left food on a previous visit. It does not seem to matter to her. I still apparently have to pay for these books now.

      I take out my wallet and the contents of my right pants pocket and see that I have only coins, which I place on the counter, which has now suddenly shifted to the opposite side of the room and farther back from the entrance of the store - a subliminally willed (non-lucid dream control) attempt at reinduction, that is, I had consciously but subliminally willed the counter back from my dream’s implied exit point as well as shifting it from the right to the left, as right is more typical of waking symbolism orientation. (The checkout of a store symbolizes a specific level of emergent consciousness as a common liminal space end marker in my dreams, fully understood as such since I was very young. This does not mean every dream ends shortly after a checkout is rendered, but it does indicate a precursor to an expected shift in consciousness, not necessarily full wakefulness, though that is often the case).

      The preconscious factors had transmuted from the artist (which symbolizes potential lucidity, though my non-lucid dream self does not realize this) to the elderly female cashier, though an unfamiliar male with a beard joins her on her right (the same orientation Zsuzsanna and I are presently sleeping in). The other male looks at my coins. Three of them are unusual in that they are mostly featureless other than having an embossed circle on them. “These are tally-hoes,” he says. This seems to mean that they may not be coins for buying something but possibly for use with public transport, or perhaps of little value. (Of course, “Tally-ho”, here an absentminded association with tallying up the total price as in “tally whole cost”, is here also a codeword for the waking transition analogous as the dream self hunting for the fox, which represents the precursor to coalescence back into conscious self identity and critical thinking skills or cleverness which the dream self does not typically possess.)

      From here, my mode of non-lucid dream control increments. I decide to leave the store with the books anyway, by teleporting and phasing through the entrance door without opening it (another form of subliminal reinduction, that is, even though I do not know I am dreaming, I deliberately manipulate it, a very common state of in-dream awareness for me).

      Still, they are heavy to carry, but I do not mind that much. It seems to be late at night. I notice that the moon is of an unusual appearance as a number of unusual clouds encircle it. The moon imagery is within the blue sky even though the rest of the sky is dark. Understanding that this image of the nighttime sky is absurd, I now become fully lucid and I decide to actively change and sustain my dream.

      The first act I perform is to joyfully throw my books onto the ground, as there is no sense in carrying them (or to be weighed down by them) in the dream state. I feel physically lighter and very happy to realize I am dreaming due to lifelong understanding of taking full conscious self advantage of this state. I enter apex lucidity and decide to create a park and have a sustained and augmented sexual encounter with Zsuzsanna. After this, I will it again. Parts of my body are “buzzing” with pleasure and our climaxes are extended (probably due to the Tetris effect from so many real-life events). However, I eventually shift into a different form of lucidity, where my dream is so realistic, that my dream self starts to question if my real physical body is somehow walking around (which of course is a ridiculous thought, but this has happened in past lucid dreams of a higher and sustained form), so I decide to initiate waking to find that I (that is, my sleeping physical body) had not moved at all. Still, there is something about the bliss, freedom, and even perceived safety of apex lucidity that is hard to describe.

      Updated 06-09-2018 at 06:31 AM by 1390

    4. Villiaphim and the End of the World

      by , 05-05-2017 at 11:05 AM
      Morning of May 5, 2017. Friday.

      This is a very long dream (with only some scenes posted in the online version), but the basic scenario relates to a typical “end of the world” situation which often simply symbolizes dream cessation as a circadian rhythms factor, especially as many of mine relate to the sun. Still, “end of the world” dreams additionally seem to have a factor that is more long-term, which I suspect is also of additional biological symbolism.

      The main scene is viewed in the nighttime sky, seemingly to the west (as my dream’s setting seems to be a distorted composite of Loomis Street and our present address, though with the emphasis on Loomis Street in America in the last scene). There is a beautiful coin-like disk hovering in the sky which is just above the moon. The moon and this disk are both about the same size, the moon probably about twice as large as presently viewed in reality. (In my dream, it is a full moon, though in reality, it apparently is moving past the first quarter at 65% visible.)

      The face of the coppery disk seems to have a mix of Orion and Sagittarius as one character. It is directly above the moon. Bright beautiful rays of light are flowing out from each feature, mostly upwards. I am somewhat wary, as I consider the disk will probably alter the moon’s orbit. The rays are a mix of gold and blue. The imagery amazes me for what seems like at least fifteen minutes.

      This turns out to be real-time symbolism for shared dreaming between Zsuzsanna and I, Zsuzsanna being the moon and the Orion/Sagittarius composite being my dream self level of consciousness. Even though the moon and the disk do not make contact, the thin rays (which actually appear as separated dashes and hyphens at times, in a perfect circumferential span) cross over each other. The moon seems to be pulling the disk into Earth’s orbit.

      Next comes waking precursor symbolism and typical dream signs. I go up to the top of a hill (real-time conscious identity symbol) and there is a tomb that has been revealed due to the celestial events. The temple around it is fairly small, part of it serving more as a solid base that is only about the size of our bed. A group of unfamiliar people gather. I look closely at the tomb. It is of a young girl who is also an angel, with the name of Villiaphim. (This is a dream-generated name I have never heard before.) Curiously, there is a modern silver latch attached to the closed coffin at somewhat of an angle. I reason that this was added the last time the temple rose. I am thinking that I will now open the coffin but end up talking about the overall setting.

      As I am talking about the details of the tomb that I recognize (such as the number two, in pairs of various orientations, forming the different symbols that Zsuzsanna and I had matched over the years, including the two facing another mirrored two as the “heart on the horizon” symbol), the personified preconscious shows up to become the usual nuisance it often is when I do not recognize my level of consciousness as a vivid dream. This time, he is an unfamiliar male teenager who makes fun of my inability to see the coffin as real-time bed symbolism.

      The question mark sequence (in a set of four steps) appears engraved in a short squarish column to the left of the tomb. I am about to explain how the question mark was created by the collective unconscious to be found and used by Yang incarnate in his quest for Yin incarnate when he (the personified preconscious) starts mimicking me about my fallacy to not realize I am simply dreaming about the bed my physical body is in rather than an ancient coffin. He traces his finger over the engraving of one of the twos, copying what I am saying in an annoying cartoon voice. I am annoyed and start chasing him in a circle around the tomb. (This is subliminal coalescence recognition, stage one.)

      As I am doing this, I shift to being with Zsuzsanna in the backyard of Loomis Street. I expect the sun to explode on the horizon (and it seems afternoon now) and it does. I know it is the end of the world, but I do not feel any fear. Zsuzsanna and I hold each other. Curiously, the sun had been just below the northern horizon, which of course is not possible. Still, the fire comes from the north as Earth burns. Just as the typical waking coalescence begins (while hugging Zsuzsanna), there is no mild abdominal jolt or other biological waking dynamic yet. Instead, I look around and see the fire only a few feet away, wondering what had happened, and why I (as my dream self) am still aware and in my dream. The ground is covered with what looks like runny egg yolk as well as egg white. Zsuzsanna and I are lying on the ground at this point. I reach over and pull the oversized “egg” from the ground (some of the “yolk” running out over the grass) and consider that about half the surface of the planet will now have to have this stuff peeled off as the “egg white and yolk” solidify a little more. Humanity will survive. I wake up to find that Zsuzsanna and I are in the same positions in bed in reality as we were in the waking symbolism (though this is not always the case).

      As I have written often before (but certainly not every time it happens), at least one dream per day (of the six to twelve I more clearly recall, not including all dream types) apparently comes from Zsuzsanna’s mind rather than mine, which are always thoughts she has that I could not possibly have known about, and it often follows a specific pattern. (This general rule occurred long before we met and has been validated virtually countless times.) It is also usually one of her more sustained thoughts relating to something that is different than usual. In this case, it related to her thoughts about runny egg yolks when she was frying an egg for herself (which is not a regular activity - and I have rarely had fried eggs in my lifetime).

      Updated 05-14-2017 at 09:56 AM by 1390

    5. Return of the Crow

      by , 05-02-2017 at 10:28 AM
      Morning of May 2, 2017. Tuesday.

      I am in an unfamiliar classroom (or perhaps at a seminar), where the students are mostly adults in their thirties. (In real life, I still have a cold, so my sleep cycle is apart from the usual.) I am the speaker. The subject is a childhood dream that I had originally titled “When the Moon is in the Seventh House” to poke fun at astrology. It was about the moon changing into a giant crow and falling through the roof of my Cubitis home into the large closet, becoming somewhat cartoon-like in appearance. (I had gone over the full decoding of this dream a few times when much younger.)

      Over time, I explain how my dream (from February 4, 1972) was designed and rendered. Originally, there were about five notebook pages regarding this somewhat short dream that I wrote at age eleven. (I never post the full text of my dream data online as it would be far too long and the format is not possible to post online other than in a large image which is not really feasible.) I explain that it was partly influenced by hearing about the January 30, 1972 lunar eclipse.

      I explain how many dreams are premonitory of biological waking mechanism factors and that a crow is such a symbol as the emergent consciousness event, especially as the same event has occurred many times in different ways since early childhood. (Also, since very early childhood, a bird’s beak was sometimes such a factor, but only in dreams relating to the lower back spasm waking event such as “The Buzzard’s Beak” from October 4,1969, though which the factor was proven to have some suggested level of control as in dreams such as “The Elongated Beak” from from September 8, 1968. These days, now that I am much older, there does seem to be an unexplainable liminal space in half-sleep where the back and shoulder spasm events can be lessened to an extent as well as somehow subliminally activated.)

      I explain that the falling giant crow additionally is a staging phrase of “night is falling” (since a crow is black and is also a specific circadian rhythms symbol for me, though I have not captured or recorded all the specific clock times it is rendered as such as I have with cats in some cases, though date markers are more obvious).

      I explain that the “failed flight waking transition”, one of my most common dream sequences since early childhood, is not necessarily of negative implications. It simply describes the type of dream that renders a falling event that is biologically linked to the natural consciousness shift that occurs upon waking.

      I explain how the actual meaning of my dream’s outcome, is that the emergent consciousness factor lands in the closet due to it being the first place I go to to get my clothes to get dressed for school after waking up. The moon had been the induction factor, which transmutes into the waking transition during my dream’s natural ending. The moon becoming the giant crow represents the unconscious (moon, or “night self” as akin to “dream self”) becoming the conscious self waking precursor. I add how “When the Moon is in the Seventh House” is especially fitting as a title, as ours was the seventh house along our stretch of highway. My dream amused me and colored my mood in a very cheerful way concerning my otherwise tedious task of getting ready for school, so thus my dream was useful in that way. (A specific dream often serves more than one purpose.)

      In the last scene, I actually “play” my childhood dream (as if it was a holographic movie over my dream’s main environment), as it originally occurred, although there are differences. The ceiling of the classroom disappears and the moon is present overhead. The full moon (though in reality was waning gibbous and only 85% visible in regard to the original dream) changes into a giant crow and begins falling toward the building.

      Soon, I “become” the giant crow as I am also my dream self’s human body (though at this point, the giant crow is only about three feet from the floor) as it coalesces into my dream self as the emergent consciousness factor. I bend one knee down with my arms up and out at this moment in a sort of dramatic presentation. I awake with the soft abdominal jolt (with a slight kick), which is not unpleasant (rather than the natural falling sensation), as the giant crow’s belly is touching the floor, and I am very surprised that I had not been lucid at any point.

      This is the second time I have recently non-lucidly dreamt of explaining the meaning of a childhood dream in front of an audience (the other being about “The Tadpole’s Ghost” from December 21, 1970). It is probably due to my lifelong study of my own dreams while realizing that much of what is published about dreams is a sham (especially the irritating myths that dominate dream lore).

      My dream also related to thinking about mapping more dreams more specifically, though only on the two main sites I post where the present count is about 3,500 (which is less than one-tenth of my total number of records and study data - though I do hope to have about 10,000 in a few years at least on tumblr if it is still there).

      Tags: crow, moon, teaching
    6. Seeking to Recognize and Know the Dream

      by , 01-01-2002 at 07:01 AM
      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.

      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.

      Updated 10-14-2019 at 04:58 AM by 1390

    7. When the Moon is in the Seventh House… (Personal Version)

      by , 02-04-1972 at 08:04 AM
      Morning of February 4, 1972. Friday. (Original version, fully explained.)

      Message: “Let the sunshine in” / “Wake up and enjoy the day and don’t dawdle in the dream state even if you can fly while sleeping”

      My dream starts out with a partial focus on last Sunday’s total lunar eclipse of January 30, 1972. I am firstly outside in the front yard in Cubitis, but as my dream ends, it seems like I teleport into the southwest bedroom. (I am also not as aware of my physical body as in other dreams.)

      Prior to my dream’s sudden outdoors to indoors scene shift, the moon, which is in the northwest area of the sky (the same location the sun was in my dream “The Day There Was No Sun”), becomes sort of dark. I am not sure if there is going to be another eclipse or not. Eventually, the moon somehow seems to become a giant crow or blackbird.

      This giant crow crashes through our roof, directly into our large sliding-door closet in the southwest bedroom (where my school clothes are kept in real life). The giant crow has somewhat of a cartoon-like appearance. He seems to have an expression of puzzlement and frustration and I get the vague impression he is now “too fat to fly” as relating to the “moon being full”. He fills our entire closet with his bulky body, which is several times the area and volume of our hall closet. I am aware that this event means “when the moon is in the seventh house”, seemingly meant to mean that our house is the seventh from an implied starting point, though I am also aware it is the first line from the song “Age of Aquarius” (which ends with “let the sunshine in” continuously repeating).

      The moon represents the dream state (as well as circadian rhythms in relationship to night and sleeping) and the link to the unconscious self. It flies but “falls” and becomes a part of my day to day waking reality by reminding me I have to get up and go to the closet to get dressed for school.

      The “silly” giant crow is a projection of my dream self as simultaneously both an upsized and downgraded flight symbol (flight being the dream itself, the fall being the natural waking mechanism), cartoon-like to represent the "unreal” nature of some dream types and giant because of trying to focus more on my dream, frustrated and puzzled because my dream is over (waking transition).

      Updated 01-13-2017 at 05:23 AM by 1390

      Tags: closet, crow, moon
      non-lucid , memorable
    8. Wed-Nez-Day

      by , 04-07-1971 at 10:43 AM
      Morning of April 7, 1971. Wednesday.

      In real life I had shown a young female teacher, after class, my “How and Why Wonder Book of the Moon”. When she asked “Can I have this?” I thought she meant that she wanted to borrow it for a short time for another class so I said “yes”. Unfortunately, I never saw the book again (so I guess she thought it was a gift). I did not ask her about it and I did not tell either of my parents about the event. (I did have most of the “How and Why Wonder Books” of the time period). I was not angry. I just felt rather strange about the situation. I thought perhaps that I would get it back at the end of the school year but did not. I was always quite passive in the presence of public authority, not because I liked, “appreciated”, or trusted authority in any way - in fact, it was the opposite and I was passive because I saw most such people as unpredictable, unintelligent, and unaware (and likely dangerous at the drop of a hat) except for perhaps a few teachers during my school years, but even then, I strongly sensed their shortcomings and overall incompetence given the circumstances, which often frustrated me but I remained quiet.

      During this time, I thought of the book being returned on “Moon Day”. I had “worked out” that this was the day relating to the moon and had a false memory that the moon was always full on a Monday.

      The main in-dream theme that recurred here for a few weeks was the idea that people only got married on Wednesdays. It became “Wedding Day”, the “long form” of “Wed Day”. In reality, I never did learn how to “mentally say” Wednesday. If I do attempt to actually think of Wednesday as Wednesday, it comes out wrong due to the bizarre and atypical spelling of the word. This stems from earlier years where I never once said (mentally) anything other than WED NEZ DAY. This is why I so quickly learned to spell it (even over incorrectly spelling “what” as “hwat”, “when” as “hwen”, and so on when four years old). To this day, I mentally think “Wed nez day” when I want to write it, knowing the “z” is actually an “s” and then write Wednesday…I wonder if other people do this.
    9. A Trip to the Moon

      by , 03-27-1971 at 03:07 PM
      Morning of March 27, 1971. Saturday.

      A large unknown family (with at least a son and a daughter both around my age) and a lot of items (too many, it seems, as the car seems too weighted down at times) mostly tied over the roof of their pale green station wagon, makes a wrong turn near our house in Cubitis (heading south) and they end up going through our neighbor’s orange grove and then everything (including my home) is somehow on the moon. However, my “home on the moon” is a bit different, though still seems a partial duplicate of my home on Earth. There are no lunar surface features on the in-dream moon except those featured on a small framed picture hanging from the wall in the room with the gorilla later on.

      There is a giant earwig under a large tarpaulin near the entrance to the shed, though the shed seems in a different area of the backyard. It looks out from underneath but does not come out. Its yellow eyes, which are glowing, are the only thing visible in the darkness under the tarpaulin. The appearance and nature of the eyes is actually much like a scene from “Gay Purr-ee” (but with cat’s eyes in the movie scene), thus it is not at all like the eyes of an insect (though which I illogically reason is as such because of its giant size). I believe it came from the scene where the eyes (from the “Money Cat” scenes) are glowing from a storm drain (or at least from a chimney scene if the storm drain idea is a false memory).

      The family walks around, not knowing they are actually on the moon, it seems. They appear to be looking for a hotel or motel on their itinerary.

      A tiny flat plastic figure of a monochrome red “Martian” (I had in real life; a toy figure from a box of cereal, Quisp, I think) moves about as if alive, somewhat insect-like at first, but it is soon actually “full size” in my dream (about two-thirds as tall as I am). However, it later seems to be revealed only as a stage prop, where a couple (unknown) men are pushing it along on small wheels. There is also a vague impression that it is part of a carnival duck shoot.

      I climb up a ladder and look through a glass transom above a locked door, similar to the Rose Street apartment area (but more like a place I lived in years later on King Street). A large gorilla is sleeping on his back on a couch with a Cracked Magazine open over his chest. A longer series of the letter “Z” (of about three different sizes) is actually floating over his head, moving from right to left. For a short time, I also see a floating animated image of a hand saw sawing a small log. He soon wakes and seems annoyed by the noise as well as the sawdust falling on him from his own comic-strip-like sleep balloon. I am not sure if it is a real gorilla seen as is or a gorilla in a costume (odd reasoning). He is aware that other people are trespassing in his home, so we (the family and I) leave the area. We are not threatened or seemingly that endangered and do not see the gorilla again.

      Eventually, we come back to Earth in the car just by driving around the “cow pasture” on the moon (“twin” to the real one, beyond the back of my home). The family never seemed to know or acknowledge that they were actually on the moon, just commenting on some strange areas near my home. They do not believe me when I tell them we had been on the moon, so I show them around and show how things are different (for example, no large gorilla on a couch). They probably are not convinced.
      Tags: earwig, gorilla, moon