Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 14, 2014. Tuesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are back at the house in Wavell Heights in Brisbane where our two oldest also lived when growing up. The house is similar to the real one when we lived there, but with several minor differences. Most of my dream takes place in the kitchen. Zsuzsanna seems to be making a salad with carrots and lettuce.

We are babysitting the girl of a single mother, although I am unsure if it is “our” house in my dream or if we are supposedly at her house (even though it was ours in reality years ago). After a time, it seems that there is concern about where the girl is that we are supposed to be babysitting and she is nowhere to be seen; nowhere in the house or yard. I think about what we should do, as it seems to be problematic to be babysitting a child who is not even present.

Soon though, the dark-haired girl makes an appearance in the kitchen. When questioned, she says that she had been down by the riverbank with her boyfriend, having taken her bicycle to the location. This seems a bit disrespectful in taking off without saying where she is going. I tell her that if she had vanished, no one would know where to look. I ask her if her mother just lets her go off at random times without any clue as to where she is going and it seems the answer is yes.

“Your mother is a nut job!” I add dramatically. She goes and sits in the corner in the kitchen, to the right of the doorway, to brood. I soon notice that she has numerous tiny white spots on her shirt, seemingly caused by the ever-amusing “healing powder” (over “healing power”) mix-up. Apparently, a packet of maize flour had been thrown at her. The “healing powder” vs. “healing power” blunder always amuses me when it occurs in my dreams (though this only happens when I use “healing power” in lucid auto-scripting and it carries over in a distorted form in non-lucid dreams such as this one).

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It is of no consequence, really. Whether it is “powder” or “power” the overall results are similar enough. It is always maize flour. Even so, there is probably also a “flour girl” and “flower girl” mix-up at some levels.

“It may look like an antibiotic but inside it you have chalk, powder or if you are lucky, you get maize flour or whatever is inside there, decried Prof Rogo.” Sudan: Outdated legislation hindering health programs in Africa by Mena Report.

“I love the flower girl”; a relevant Cowsills lyric. (Zsuzsanna was the flower girl as a child in hippie Nimbin during the Mardi Grass/Aquarius festival, one of hundreds of precise dream clues that led to my real-life discovery of her as my soulmate).

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Aside from the subliminal auto-scripting in this dream that yet again confused “power” with “powder”, the young girl being down by the river with her bicycle is an autosymbolic play on dream state induction itself (as well as a childhood reference to the Dickey Lee song “Patches”). The river signifies spiritual communication as well as dream state initiation, with a younger version of Zsuzsanna, and the bicycle as an element of the physical body, signifying vague awareness of the hypnopompic kick that only truncates some dreams in the first stage of the sleep cycle.

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Morning of September 18, 1990. Tuesday.



In my dream, I am apparently in the (theoretical) future, which seems to be not that long after major changes in society. There is not much drama or many events worthy of note, but my dream’s more vivid parts suggest at least some people becoming some sort of powder, like a “pillar of salt” in the Biblical sense except that it is not salt but seemingly some sort of toxic powder (perhaps rat poison). Two figures are seemingly in a basement, possibly on display, though they may only be unlikely remains (additionally covered with white dust from a building collapsing) based on the unclear “back story” of my dream. They are a man and a woman, possibly a married couple (still in their wedding clothes).

There is a point at where a plane is flying overhead while I am in a basement or lower level of a larger building. I get the impression that there is some sort of threat or possibility of attack by another country and that some buildings had fallen or had been hit by airplanes about a week previously. There is also something about powder being “sent” to people somehow, though I am still not certain of how the people became (or are covered by) the light powder.

Don Knotts, as he appeared in the movie “The Reluctant Astronaut” (from 1967) steps through the doorway. He is seemingly one of the only other people in the city (Manhattan). He seems to have been hiding in the buildings on his own for possibly a week or more.

“Can’t be…” he says softly, seemingly looking at me and seeming very nervous on hearing the sound of the plane. More loudly and clearly, he says “There aren’t any airplanes anymore.” (This likely but loosely relates to his role in the aforementioned movie in that he always avoided travel by plane.) Only at that point do I start to suspect that I am dreaming about some sort of science-fiction theme, though Don seemed very sincere and truthful in what he was saying.

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This dream seemed to be somewhat precognitive of 9-11 and the anthrax attacks as well as my upcoming marriage (man and woman in white; not yet moving), although there were many other precognitive ones around this same time period involving my lifelong Roma “mystery girl” (who first contacted me in March of 1991) and a number of exact details. The anthrax attacks apparently began on September 18, 2000.

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I explain this dream type further in “Dreams of Type PRECONAV-VSCPCEL, 01-15”.

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