Blue_Opossum

Morning of December 3, 2019. Tuesday.

Dream #: 19,342-02. Reading time: 1 min 40 sec.



My dream begins with the instinctual anticipation of wall mediation, the usual maneuvering between dream space and waking space. There is no imaginary proprioception as cognitive arousal dominates my transition in this case. I sit on a bed in an unknown location without my waking-life identity. I read details in a newspaper for two television shows. I am to participate in the filming of a new series that involves a casual conversation with a celebrity. The “gatekeeper” (personified preconscious) between dream space and waking space is an unfamiliar Australian actor.

I stand up when I see the word “EXCITE” flashing in midair (an instinctual association with cortical arousal). Even though I am in an indoor setting, the whole wall is open directly to the street, and an oncoming jeep is carrying the actor to my location. The preconscious simulacrum is a passive rendering. He sits on the bed as we talk about the conditions of his environment. “What is it like to live in such a hot, dry climate,” I ask him - as if I live in a different region. He talks about himself and his status. At this point, I notice a big cardboard box near the bed (compartmentalization of the process) that contains outdoor features such as grass, rocks, and small shrubs. There is also a seemingly tame Australian possum running around in the box. This feature is meant to induce recall of my waking life, as Zsuzsanna had a pet possum while we were writing to each other, but the heat (in real life) makes cortical arousal sluggish. Instead, I ask the man if all possums are as tame as this one. He answers in the negative. He seems slightly impatient.

The processing changes back to cognitive. The simulacrum subsides for a time. I read about the actor in his fictitious television series from years previously, though the preconscious process heightens to the imaginary inference of intrusion. I read the name of the show as “Bryant’s Bandits” (typical redundant dream state phonetics like “Tony Karoni” from years ago).

I instinctually try to reinduce my dream with water reinduction as virtual melatonin mediation. I teleport to a big lake. The actor is seemingly filming a new episode of “Bryant’s Bandits,” which is about men on a submarine with him as the captain, though they are not criminals but military. He stands atop the submarine while his men stand on the shore. The sleep-wake mediation becomes preconsciously authoritative, so I let myself wake into another hot day.

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Night of August 29, 2017. Tuesday.



As a very young child, an intriguing recurring dream, some of which versions were lucid, involved walking down a zigzagging path. It usually seemed to be late at night or very early in the morning before dawn. I would notice a splendorous tree. I would also notice, within the foliage of that tree, eerie glowing eyes.

The eyes did not seem threatening, though I was aware they were watching me. These states were very vivid. These animals were eventually revealed to be opossums.

In this new dream, I “return” to this tree and some sort of analogy begins. The tree is shown to represent the human brain, while the glowing eyes represent the energy of neurons presumably while in the dream state. For some reason, it seems a perfect analogy.

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One of the several reasons why “opossum” became a part of my dream-self identity, tribal name, and online dream journalist name, was because of these vivid childhood dreams and the fact that an opossum is a perfect symbol for being in the dream state (as an opossum “plays dead” as an analogy of being asleep - not meant in a negative context).

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Zsuzsanna had a pet Australian opossum when I first made contact with her. This was one of thousands of details that validated our inherent connections to each other long before we met. (She also drew an opossum in a tree as a child with an airplane flying over it, and of course, I flew in an airplane to Australia.) My life has remained miraculous and Zsuzsanna is the only person near my age I can sense as being “there” at all (through the blue flame or Blue Pearl “telepathy”, for lack of a better word).

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Morning of October 25, 2004. Monday.



I am on some sort of outing that may relate to shopping but it is a bit uncertain. A couple of the buildings are too narrow to be significant of very much realism though I do not become lucid at any point, and there actually are buildings this narrow, apparently (though I have never seen such in real life). This may be a play on my association with dealing with “narrow-minded” people throughout most of my life.

The only other features in my dream are related to clocks and pianos, with the emphasis on pianos. There is something “wrong” about the mostly upright pianos in the three buildings I explore though I cannot determine what it is. I am not sure if I am actually going to buy one (and I am not sure how I would get it home either, or even if I have any money - I may have only about twenty dollars in my wallet). It may be that the pianos do not have “guts” (all the internal parts as in real life) so thus are mostly hollow. This is possibly related to “fake” electronic organs where instead of a larger amplifier at the front, it is a rather small cheap speaker hidden behind the cloth covering the larger stand where there would otherwise be a bigger speaker and more circuits. (At one time, in the mid-1970s, these were about one-tenth the price of a real electronic chord organ - or about a hundred dollars in comparison to a thousand or more).



Some of the upright pianos (there are no electric pianos in the stores) seem more like an atypical hybrid and resemble a miniature version of a grand piano but not as long front to back. The thing is to find the type that opossums live in rather than rats. A single opossum (usually just lounging in one) would be in a good one (to buy) though four rats (running around randomly inside as a person plays) would live in ones that do not play so well (going out-of-tune more quickly as well as having “loose” keys). This could be a play on “rat race” or even the “rat race being out of tune”. Then again, the whole region seems empty of both people and animals, even birds. I am not even sure why the clocks are necessary, especially more than one, or perhaps each piano comes with a “matching” wall clock. As no one else is around, it dawns on me that there is not much point in even shopping there. The entire business district seems closed.