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    1. Flying Around and Bribing the Preconscious

      by , 09-07-2018 at 12:07 PM
      Morning of September 7, 2018. Friday.

      Reading time: 3 min 5 sec. Readability score: 69.



      My dream is a meandering adventure and threads of my conscious self identity typically come and go in different scenes. Various time periods are erroneously combined and skewed as is often the case.

      In one scene, I am “sleeping” while sitting on a couch in an unknown dark location. Tony, a classmate from middle school, is sitting on my left. I seem to be an adult, but I have had no contact with him since my teenage years other than on Facebook.

      I am later in a big classroom that has no student desks. Everyone is watching a male classmate (unknown) who is performing a strange dance and transforming into various small objects and animals. He also mentions something about not using chlorine in a swimming pool.

      Although I had been in Florida, I am now suddenly in Wisconsin. Tony is now sitting on the curb near an intersection. I fly high into the air to look down to see him looking curiously up at me. Later, I am walking with several schoolmates. I have a false memory that Karen and Kenny lived next door to the King Street mansion and have no recall that I once lived on the street. Kenny turns to go into the yard even though I thought we were all walking a distance yet.

      Soon, I am in the northeast room of the King Street house. I now remember I have a young son, though that is the only thread of my conscious self identity at this point (and he had never been to America let alone to King Street). There are a lot of miscellaneous items all over the floor. I realize that I need to feed our cats. My son has a dish of cat food. One of the white cats had eaten, but the other had not. I have a false memory that we have two white long-haired cats, male and female. I soon realize we only have one and deliberately change my dream without lucidity. However, that is wrong as well. We do not have any solely white long-haired cats in reality. I become puzzled but not lucid and my dream shifts again.

      Later, I dive into the Black River while flying, though with the false association it is the ocean. I vividly feel myself move through the water back to shore. I am enjoying myself. Though I am not lucid, I understand the association between water and melatonin (as water is autosymbolism for sleep), thus diving into the water keeps me in my dream.

      I fly around until I hear people talking in a building. It is a miniature version of the La Crosse post office, though is associated with the Arcadia one. Female schoolmates and one male schoolmate are inside. He faces the entrance, sitting on a chair. His presence is this dream’s preconscious avatar.

      A young version of Zsuzsanna is my schoolmate. We all sit talking for a time. I am going to fly home with Zsuzsanna even though it is erroneously La Crosse. The preconscious is somewhat of a bully (which it has to be to trigger waking in some cases), but it does not bother me. He asks me to give him a dollar.

      I hold out my right hand, palm down, and singular thrice-folded dollar bills come out of nowhere to fall to the floor in front of the RAS avatar. I non-lucidly create many of them, and they scatter over the floor. The avatar seems somewhat annoyed and is only holding on to one of them, making no effort to pick any of the others up. Even though I am consciously unaware I am dreaming, I am well aware of the factors and dynamics. I consider this somewhat of an RAS mediation bribe to allow my dream to continue and vivify, which it does for a time.

      I hold Zsuzsanna to my left, and I effortlessly joyfully fly off while I hold onto her, remaining about ten feet above the sidewalk for about a block. I then fly higher with her.



      Holding another dream character at my side and flying with them is a recurring VSC (vestibular system correlation) event in my dreams (and has been for over fifty years), both lucidly and non-lucidly, though sometimes others fly on their own. I have often manipulated my dream non-lucidly. Lucidity is not required to create or control dreams (or have endless “magical” abilities), though many people still propagate this misconception. The only real difference other than knowing it is a dream is a viable memory of the conscious self identity of which is lacking in most non-lucid dreams.


      Categories
      non-lucid
    2. Malice in Wanderland

      by , 06-07-2017 at 07:15 AM
      Morning of June 7. 2017. Wednesday.



      The first main scene of my dream involves going to a very large unfamiliar post office, though there is the common indoors-outdoors ambiguity. There are a number of rows of post office boxes and drawers, though no interior walls or discernible building features. It seems to be late morning. The sky is overhead; no ceiling implied for the “post office”. It is somewhat like a simple maze in the last part of this scene. I see a group of about six police officers between two rows. In another area, there is an unfamiliar male in black appearing with a gun, though he is not a direct threat to me. Still, I do not want to be near him or the people he aims at from time to time. From an unrealistic distance, I am still able to read a yellow strip of writing below one post office drawer (in about the middle of the feature) that has something to do with needing a special code as well as the key in order to open it. It seems related to a business. I have a curiosity over what might be in the drawers, though I also consider there might not be anything.

      Several unknown males join me as I move around the rows of post office boxes to be out of the viewpoint of the man with the gun. He is not after us specifically but I consider that he may not want any witnesses regarding his activity towards others. He does not fire the gun at any point.

      Eventually, I leave the area and find myself in an unknown neighborhood. A young version of Zsuzsanna is to my right (though I am seemingly much younger as well, perhaps only about twenty). It is as if we have only been together for a short time. Walking ahead of us and to our left is a thin female with short and curly gray hair. She is unfamiliar and seems at least sixty years of age. She is wearing light-colored slacks and a blouse. She is carrying a large black-and-white cat on her right shoulder (which I assume to be male).

      Suddenly, there is some sort of change where Zsuzsanna is now somehow sitting on the lady’s right shoulder and I find myself carrying the large cat near my left shoulder. The old woman somehow caused this because she wants us to have a meal with her at her house and talks to us about this. Her cat was also apparently becoming difficult for her to control, which is why I am now holding it. I am holding it up and out with both hands and it struggles a bit but does not get away.

      We reach the area where she lives. She has one neighbor (also an older lady) to our right. The chicken-wire fence is lying on the ground, rolled out to where one must walk on it to get to another gate where there is a small enclosed garden area (which is about the same size in area as our bed and probably a real-time play on “garden bed” as a dream sign). It almost seems like it rolls out automatically (somewhat like an irregular carpet) by the will of the person going to the old woman’s house. I do not really feel like walking on wire mesh, so I hover slightly above it and slowly fly mostly in a vertical position to the enclosed garden area.

      Zsuzsanna, being already behind the first gate, is partly lying on her right side on the ground near the right internal corner of the garden fence, holding herself up with her arm. There is soon distorted imagery to where a couple large blades of tall grass partly block my view of her face, but this seems like some sort of “story” related to “Alice in Wonderland”. The old woman talks about a man who tends to her garden, but this becomes like a dream within a dream. The man is also seemingly playing a televised role, dressed as a farmer or a minimal clown as a farmer, but being called a “demon” in describing what he is doing in tending her garden and also having unusual snakes on display to the public. I consider if he feels odd about being called a “demon”, as they do not exist and there is nothing threatening or negative about his persona or activities. He seems to tolerate this in playing a role in a television show. He holds up a couple different snakes that he has cared for. One has a catlike head. The other has a black head on a light brown body but the head of which is like a miniature shark. There are no negative emotions of any kind in seeing this impossible imagery.

      Dreams do not really have “interpretations” in the naïve popular usage of the term but they often do have layers of meaning, primarily based on real-time levels of consciousness which may or may not relate more directly to the present conscious self status.

      There is a preconscious precursor here. Although he has a gun, it does not create enough of a sense of danger to activate the waking mechanism, which is a major function of dreams (though not the only function as some “experts” claim). The simple maze relates to finding specific threads of my conscious self identity for my temporary fictional dream self to find its way to the waking threshold. The post office probably has two underlying meanings, real-time communication between different levels of the self while not fully awake, and possible links to the collective unconscious (or even collective conscious). It may also relate to precognitive threads with someone the dreamer is not yet in communication with (and may not be for years), something I validated from childhood dreams relating to my “mystery girl” (Zsuzsanna).

      The dark cat represents a real-time factor of being asleep (and often represents an aspect of liminal space), as cats are known for sleeping a lot (as well as being active at night when people sleep).

      The personified preconscious takes on the form of an older woman carrying her cat. Her giving it to me relates to activating my emergent consciousness precursor. “Beyond the fence” is a metaphor for a shift in consciousness while in the dream state. The first fence is on its side because, in reality, I am lying down (sleeping) instead of being awake and standing up (thus it is a second-level dream sign). I often hover or fly very well and effortlessly in the final stage of a dream and without giving it much thought (which relates to lessening the hypnopompic jerk and waking more softly as it is premonitory of the biological falling sensation). My emergent consciousness (as a projection as the gardener with the snakes in some sort of skewed television role) is illogically called a “demon”, but in a very matter-of-fact sense, with no associations with negativity of any kind. This probably relates to my status of being in a world full of superstitious people who have little or no understanding of the dream state. The imagery, though slightly grotesque (primarily the snake with a black miniature shark head, which is a “less water” factor of which has continuously occurred in my dreams on a day to day basis for over fifty years and is both biological and symbolic on a number of levels) has no effect on my perception or emotions, just as with hypnagogia visuals (though this becomes more of a hypnopompic state). I wake very slowly and softly, with no physical hypnopompic effects.
    3. Don Knotts Orders Tanks but Receives Yo-Yo

      by , 05-17-2016 at 11:17 AM
      Morning of May 17, 2016. Tuesday.



      Featuring as Gatekeeper: Don Knotts (actor, July 21, 1924-February 24, 2006). Here, he implies (and symbolically demonstrates) control of my transitory waking self, an essence of the Source.

      In my dream, I am aware of Carole Cooke (Bessie Limpet) being Don Knott’s (Henry Limpet’s) wife in the “The Incredible Mr. Limpet” (1964 movie) role. Don has to go to the post office to get a couple packages, as he supposedly “collects tanks” and I first assume that this is what he will be receiving in the mail. Even though this seems an obvious reference to fish tanks (again, with regard to the “The Incredible Mr. Limpet” scenario) it is instead something to do with large older water towers and water (storage) tanks, or so I firstly assume (but I do not consider how large they would be or how he would have the space for them at his residence).

      Eventually, I am at the Arcadia Post Office with Don (where I have not been in real life since the 1970s). He somehow absentmindedly ends up in the employee area behind the service counter. He looks very old at this point and the postal workers seem somewhat puzzled by his imposition on the wrong side of the service counter but they still allow him to stay and converse with them.

      It turns out that, illogically, the “tanks” I expected him to collect from the post office are neither big nor even tanks at all, but seemingly yo-yos. He uses one behind the post office counter, but looks very frail and even unnaturally “shriveled” at this point yet he still seems cheerful and optimistic though otherwise oblivious to his imposition status. I get the impression that even though it is a yo-yo, or appears and functions as a yo-yo, it may somehow also serve as a kind of miniature storage tank (though this is not conclusive).



      A post office represents messages between the dream self and the conscious self (with the gatekeeper here as an implied middleman). A yo-yo is a very rare dream symbol for me, but it represents potential lucidity relating to “up and down” control, that is, control of levels of awareness in the dream state, but here the gatekeeper seemingly has control of my level of consciousness. An aquarium or fish tank (though fleeting and vague in association here) otherwise represents a form of downsized dream-state induction and the outer layers of the unconscious mind.

      Updated 05-23-2016 at 07:01 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    4. F-20 Tigershark Model

      by , 12-31-2015 at 06:31 PM
      Morning of December 31, 2015. Thursday. New Year’s Eve.



      This dream “came out of nowhere” in the sense that there is no discernible connection to recent real life events or concerns other than upon closer examination perhaps. It begins as a typical “finding and gathering comic books” dream. There is a point at which my wife Zsuzsanna and children and I are walking through a mostly undefined but implied alleyway, one area being near a pawn shop.



      There is an offset dream of moving through an alley and street that is actually more like the aisle of a store. There are various books stacked horizontally on the shelves. I realize they belong to some neighborhood children (rather than relevant to a rummage sale or yard sale as in similar dreams) and do not take them.

      The main scenario involves going into an unfamiliar post office. Two younger males work there as postal clerks, at least one (or both) of East Indian descent. Somehow, it becomes known that there are random unclaimed items in shelves in the back. One male gives me a small package as if just giving them to random members of the public to get rid of them (loosely based on an old Spirit comic book Valentine story I read recently). To my surprise, I see that the package is addressed to me, with my first and last name clearly discernible (and it does not change when I read it again). It also has “1997” on the postmark and thus is apparently something I ordered in that year (which was the third year I had lived in Australia from February 9, 1994).

      The postal clerks seem cheerful. I wonder why it was never delivered though. I open it up and it is a model airplane, a Northrop F-20 Tigershark, with “F-20” clearly visible on the model. (In real life, my oldest son had started a model airplane collection of about the same size but not as far back as 1997.)

      Later, while still in the same general area, though in a hall of the building where the post office is, I notice that the model F-20 is of a very unusual appearance. It takes on the essence of a paper Christmas bell, though also is reminiscent (from the frontal view) of a slightly squashed carnation. This of course is absurd, as only something of expanded radial symmetry could be made as such, but I do not question its appearance. I hold it and look at it feeling slightly puzzled.

      Relying on what is available on the Internet relating to any possible meaning, one could get completely confused. I do know the East Indian postal employee represents theft, as my return ticket for refund (worth a few hundred dollars) was apparently stolen by this postal employee who refused to register it (and this was in the news later concerning other mail including numerous packages) and thus there was no record regarding its disappearance.

      Looking at the Northrop F-20 Tigershark, its being a model long past due in getting by mail (or “communication” in general), the paper Christmas bell appearance, and the association with the partly squashed carnation is quite complex (it is almost like an airplane-shaped carnation if that is even possible, but it swirls and slopes somewhat to the left from the frontal view - and again there is the idea it was somehow made in the manner of a paper Christmas bell though I do not recall building it in this way). The Internet gives different associations for yellow carnations, though most include rejection or disdain, though if I did not consciously know this, any interpretation as such is meaningless. Personally, it probably relates to mortality as another dream of this day did; suggesting a powerful aircraft becoming like a partly squashed flower, either relating to life energy becoming less viable or something aggressive becoming peaceful. Still, it could yet again relate solely to the waking mechanism, the energy of my dream “returning to the garden bed”.





      This is one of those oddly clever composites. The waking transition is quite long. It starts out with a typical flying symbol, the model airplane, downsized as a normal-looking model at first and quantified in the post office setting. Near the waking stage, the model airplane looks more like a paper Christmas bell, a bell also being a waking metaphor. It also has the essence of a flower, as in “garden bed”. My dream self is puzzled at these unusual atypical layers at the waking stage.

      Updated 04-08-2017 at 09:56 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    5. Calling the Blue Pearl (Merkaba)

      by , 07-31-2015 at 08:55 AM
      Morning of July 31, 2015. Friday.



      Notes: The included images are from one of my wife’s many journals, this one being from age fourteen. The two scans are from the same journal page, one showing a distorted Merkaba form, and the other inclusive of the line “I feel you around me even though you have not found me”.



      Dream notes:

      Yet again, many years of my life and memory “vanish” and I am probably about nineteen years old. I am apparently in La Crosse at the Post Office (though it is actually a typical muddled composite location). Several other people are around (mostly males around twenty to thirty years of age) even though it is seemingly late at night (and the post office would otherwise be closed to the public by then in reality). I do not seemingly know anyone else though there is a friendly atmosphere.

      As I am seated across from another male, a Blue Pearl event (Merkaba portal) blocks my left eye’s field of vision (though not entirely) as in real life. However, this does not activate my memory (likely as it is just a rendered dream event and the Merkaba portal only appears in full wakeful consciousness). The other male had been aware of seeing the “blue flame” around me and seems somewhat surprised. “Did you see that?” I ask him and he nods.

      A little later, I try to “call” it but nothing happens other than a light blue veil-like impression in my left eye that quickly disperses. That is, it is very subtle and does not come “closer” or briefly flash and darken before fading. I end up trying over about twenty minutes in about three locations where other people are around. A couple people think I am jesting and make jokes about other colors such as yellow. One even pushes me near the shoulder (though lightly in a friendly manner). I am somewhat frustrated I cannot call back the Source for whatever reason, though I have no focused intent on why - just the idea of the appearance and not how I would relate to it. (Although there is information about “Metatron’s Cube” I have only ever seen the star tetrahedron that forms the blue portal when the normal and inverted pyramids come together and rotate in opposite directions, although my wife had drawn variations on it in her journal during her childhood and early teen years, along with, of course, the opossum under the airplane and hundreds of other remote-viewed confirmations.)

      There is one scene where a male is kneeling on the floor and seemingly doing some sort of occult ritual against another person (which I assume is metaphorical of people connected to the Source being manipulated by “normal” people and their false views of life). I immediately mumble some Latin (though I am not sure of the phrase; part of it was something like “dimittam”) and the implied villain falls over and is unable to move and the other person goes on his way.

      From here, I hear people talking about how the bus is late. I go out and see (on the other side of the street from the post office) two different buses, though there is another one on the post office side. The bus I have to get, second one across the street (facing southward) does not have a driver, as he seems to be involved in a fight - not a violent or physical fight but chasing someone from the area for some reason. The area north of the post office (on the side of the street I am on) is modeled fairly accurately after the bus stop area of the Chermside Shopping Center that was several blocks away when we lived on Stadcor Street, but this does not dawn on me. (Thus, once again, Australian and American settings join in an in-dream composite rendering.)

      I am feeling inside my right pocket for change and can clearly feel the coins (of which there are about seven of various denominations) and try to determine what they are by feeling the size - and reflect that there is at least about a dollar, though I am somewhat concerned if I have enough money for the bus (though I am not sure what the fee is), though I do not even reflect on what my destination is. My dream fades from around this point (before I get to the bus). It is possible, though not certain, that “trying to determine the denomination of a coin by feeling it” has something to do with a focus on trying to relate (blindly) to other people’s religions without really knowing at all what they mean, as “denomination” can also be defined as “a recognized autonomous branch of the Christian Church”.



      Although I do not typically document it online as it is almost continuous (and is sometimes so precise, it would almost make my dream extraneous by description - and who wants an extraneous dream journal), yet again a dream utilizes something my wife had been thinking (without her saying anything to me) or a detailed subject of something she and our oldest daughter had talked about (without any way of me knowing about it - unless there is some sort of invisible intercom on my computer desk that relays the information - a bit of dry humor). She and our daughter were talking about the “blue moon” last night (of which I did not know anything about otherwise).

      At the same time, it is also precognitive of something I see immediately after waking (also typical from day to day). In this case, it was a rather idiotic local article called “‘Blue moon’ doesn’t mean the moon is actually blue” and seemed almost like a humorous “continuation” of a couple in-dream concepts (from others in the post office).
    6. Atypical Post Office Visit (precognitive)

      by , 05-08-1998 at 11:08 AM
      Morning of May 8, 1998. Friday.



      I am in a vivid dream, though not fully lucid at any point. I enter the post office south of our home (while it is seemingly closed) that I have only been to a couple times in real life. I apparently have a special key to open different post office boxes and drawers (recurring). For some reason I never see it as stealing (likely because of my awareness of it being a dream at one level).

      I eventually find a stack of small orange packages. There is a set of large earrings and a necklace in one package. The jewelry is round and golden with an unusual and unfamiliar design oriented toward the center. Our surname appears in the newspaper at one point and I contemplate if this is because someone had “reported” me for having the key as there is something about being “caught on camera” in the post office.

      This afternoon, in real life, I actually did end up going to the post office to pick up a completely unexpected prize my wife Zsuzsanna won; a baby diary and an instant one-use camera. Her name had been in the newspaper the day before (though we had not seen the newspaper until later today and did not know about the prize until later today regarding a pick-up ticket in our mailbox). Although she did not win any jewelry, the design of the jewelry was the exact same pattern as the picture on the camera (which I myself had not seen before).
      Categories
      non-lucid
    7. Time Gate (Prescient)

      by , 02-09-1991 at 08:09 AM
      Morning of February 9, 1991. Saturday.



      Dream Series: The Experience of Prescience, the Inexplicable Dream State Phenomenon. Part 9



      This is a vivid dream from 1991, just prior to making first contact with Zsuzsanna in March. Exactly three years from this dream, I arrived in Australia.

      The main part at the beginning is in becoming aware of the “sugar shack”/“old shack” dream I had as a child (which had several precisely precognitive layers over a very long time period). I begin to understand more clearly that the post office in Arcadia and the “sugar shack” were parallel locations (not quite the same as a composite location as I would say a composite location was like being in a place that combines two or more environments, homes, etc. into one whereas a parallel location is being mostly in one place while getting a clear sense of another location being somehow “inside” or linked to it so that you are somehow seemingly in two places at once but with one location being “invisible”).

      The area is quite different and is more like an open field as I walk to the west. Seemingly, I am near the post office. I come to what sort of reminds me of the “time trellis” from childhood dreams. There is a very large, old, green metallic fence that seems to be holding back another “world”. I get a very strange sense of timelessness. The mammoth, tyrannosaurus, and deer are all from different time periods but their life energy seems very intense and present. Behind the fence are the following:

      A large tyrannosaurus making growling sounds.
      A wooly mammoth making a bit of noise.
      A woman in black (Barbara Steele or representation of future wife?).
      A large number of small deer (prehistoric?).
      A large number of emus.
      Several smaller dinosaurs (mostly ornithomimosauria).
      Various other smaller animals including wild (possibly prehistoric) goats.
      A few robots of the “Magnus Robot Fighter” style, but more to the side.

      “Magnus” is important for a few personal reasons - three being the name of the main character in “The Bermuda Depths”, being the “Robot Fighter”, and being the brand name of an electric organ I played often as an older boy.

      I have a very vivid impression of something on the horizon, so to speak. I am somewhat aware that part of the “time gate”, the northern end, is attached to or very near the post office. There also seems to be a composite link to one part of the building that represents my L-shaped apartment on King Street (the first place I ever fully lived on my own). There is a female presence. I am not sure if she is Barbara Steele as Elisabeth Blackwood or Connie Sellecca as Jennie Haniver but she is “mine”. There is also an appearance by the “other” - Susan R as if she is saying “goodbye” (again, as the first time was on March 16 when Michael died). She is dressed as a “cave girl” and apparently is on some sort of safari. I am not quite sure of what the strong foreboding feeling means. On the wall is a tan plaque that reads “G.P.O. (General Post Office)”, under that “I HUG P.O. (meaning Post Office) VIRGO”, and under that is a Yin/Yang symbol and other symbols such as the fleur-de-lis (made of three flames over the heart).

      I hear a sudden stampede that reminds me quite a bit of the cartoon Tasmanian Devil routine (with the animals running away from him) but far more realistic as I watch animals rush by the window going “completely mad” and out of control and going everywhere, leaving a large dust cloud. The noise is incredible. I get a strange sense of being in Australia (yet where I had never been at that point) even though I am in Florida. The “time gate” had been opened. I say “oh-oh” and the other person says “what?” as I say “oh-oh” again. The post office building shakes slightly.

      I move to the front entrance of the post office, wondering if the animals will destroy the building and if I will be safer somewhere else. I walk outside and everything has changed to a sunny quiet day. However, when I turn around, a giant dove is approaching me (walking slowly from the doorway from inside the building) with a large red heart symbol on its chest. I am not quite sure what to make of it, so I pick up a sword (which is burning) as it approaches…



      When I was very young, though already writing in dream journals, I “accidentally” learned a number of traits about dreams that was very different from what I read later on (and the fact that I would often see identical imagery only after some dreams was one of the reasons I started studying dreams at an early age in the first place). Additionally, I also discovered many odd patterns. Although I was neither interested in Christianity nor Astrology, one pattern I found with the next consonant, next vowel progression (cyclic) was JESUS, KITAT, LOVEV. I found this curious, as no one else had ever mentioned it to my knowledge. When I tried it with my first and middle name, I got CLAUDECLARENCE, DMEAFIDMESIPDI, FNIEGOFNITOQFO, GPOIHUGPOVURGU, which I decided might become GPO I HUG PO VIRGO. (Our Cubitis address was firstly a general post office and general delivery but later we got a post office box and eventually our own mailbox across the highway in front of Karen and Kenny’s house.) I used this next-consonant-next-vowel code up until fifth grade, but still wrote some dreams down using it, depending on the content of my dream.

      Shortly after this dream, Zsuzsanna and I were communicating for the first time in real life and were writing letters and speaking on the telephone. Of course, Zsuzsanna is a Virgo, but I have zero interest in human systems of belief, as none of them border on truth. Since then, I have discovered genuine fractals and fractal clusters in the English language, and of which I have never shared, as I do not think people could handle it (although I have seen hints of others discovering it in the past few years, mostly on websites, but without the understanding of certain key phrases and fractal “seeds”).


      Updated 04-03-2018 at 06:14 PM by 1390

      Categories
      memorable