Morning of January 13, 2019. Sunday. Dream #: 19,018-02. Reading time: 1 min 35 sec. I am uncertain of the backstory, but I go up in a manned satellite with three unfamiliar men who are all close to twenty years of age. One man is more to my left, one to my right, and one in front of me. All face away from me. We are in orbit around Earth. I have concerns at times, as there does not seem to be a roof above us. The men on the left and right have small shields in front of them, though they do not fully cover the area. The man in front of me sits before a window that also does not encompass the satellite’s walls. I consider that there may be a force field around our craft so that we are not exposed to outer space, though this remains unknown. I also think that the satellite is incomplete but will be complete soon. I notice an irregular hole on the left side of the window. Its shape is like the letter “Z,” though backward and tilted to the left. It is about a foot and a half in height. I can discern the edges of the glass, which seems at least an inch thick. I do not feel much concern about it or make any mention of what would logically be a problem. (A force field, if present, would cover the hole.) My conscious self identity is not extant, and there is no emotion. I wonder if I should give instructions to any of the men, but I do not say anything. Eventually, I notice that we are only a short distance above a forest. I think it is unusual and wonder how we are floating as such and what is going on, though I do not say anything. Outer space dreams are not very common, though this one is a form of [inherited transitional vestibular system correlation]. This imaginary scene is strange on one level because of the three simulacra. I am assuming they correlate with the three sleeping positions I enter, back and left and right sides, though I sleep mostly on my left. Typically there is only one vestibular system simulacrum to represent the return to correlation with legitimate physicality (in contrast to the fictitious body of the dream state), but this heat makes me restless at times. Being closer to Earth is being closer to returning to waking life.
Morning of September 4, 2013. Wednesday. In my dream, I am following a small spacecraft in my incorporeal form in outer space. It is implied that at least two astronauts are coming back to Earth in a somewhat random and unexpected trajectory. The spacecraft looks much like the Apollo 11 lunar module. The main focus seemingly takes place in the asteroid belt. However, instead of asteroids there is somehow a smaller sun in orbit around the main sun. Over time, I watch the spacecraft seem to bump and turn around the smaller sun’s corona in an unusual way. I see the imagery later as if looking at a spectrograph (though at one point looks similar to a Hertzsprung–Russell diagram). The event continues for several minutes. The spacecraft does not seem to have any obvious problems from extreme heat, as it is just slightly out of control, supposedly relative to the pull of gravity. Eventually, the astronauts are back on Earth. I am only aware of this from an unknown perspective and focus, including from what seems to be the news as seen on television. The inability of my non-lucid dream self to viably discern the physical body’s location in unconsciousness is the main foundation of this dream. Outer space is certainly not as common a liminal space setting as other forms of waking transition dynamics. Although it centers upon the RAS waking factor as the sun in its autosymbolism of representing the conscious self identity, the additional smaller sun is curious, but probably represents the conscious identity of Zsuzsanna, as other dreams with two suns have been validated to signify this REM state dynamic. Remember that the dream self is not the conscious self and that autosymbolism and other threads primarily represent the dream state itself and the waking transition as easily discernible here with its literal “return to daylight” theme. Of course, the rest of my dream is the typical equilibrium ambiguity, due to the vestibular system not being viable when unconscious.