Morning of October 15, 2020. Thursday. Dream #: 19,659-02. Reading time: 2 min 12 sec. My dream, in instinctual mode (but on the periphery of liminality throughout), transitions through the usual processes, but I carry a graphing calculator throughout my exploring and meandering. This aspect keeps my somatosensory dynamics vivid and sustains my overall clarity and perceptual awareness throughout most of my dream. I keep it in my right hand and enter numbers mostly with my thumb. In the main narrative, I walk through several areas of what seems to be a college campus in the late morning. I consider I am not supposed to be here, but I doubt anyone would notice or care. As I walk, I push random numbers on my calculator, which I consider some people might perceive as a cell phone. I do not look at the display and only vaguely think of random numbers to enter at different times. (It is mainly somatosensory focus holding me in the dream rather than cerebral. As I sleep, I sometimes habitually clasp the wooden slat of our bed’s headboard.) Eventually, I transition into the predictable “seeking the sleeper” mode. I find myself walking into the bedroom of an unknown person. As a result, associations with the physical immobility of my body (while sleeping) instinctually initiates. I cannot find a way to leave the room even though I had just walked in. The sleep personification resolves as an unfamiliar girl. She leaves her bed and talks to me. I tell her I have to find my house. She assumes I am a professor that should be living in the school and is puzzled by me calling the school a “house.” I tell her, “Well, I call where I live a house.” For a short time, I contemplate returning to deeper sleep. As a result, we walk to a staircase that leads down into a dark flooded basement. The girl briefly transitions into the Naiad simulacrum and talks about the process, but I decide to explore more. We continue to communicate as we find an exit from her bedroom that leads into the next predictable stage of dreaming, the parking lot setting. The sleep-wake personification appears as an unknown young male a foot taller than me. I consider if he will be a bully or remain friendly (especially as I am already in the last transition of the dreaming process, so he does not have to be imposing). My indecision creates a delayed and ambiguous behavior on his part as if he does not know how to act. He says something that comes out like gibberish. “What did you say?” I ask him. He does not seem rude or confrontational, but I still move on to the next process. I instinctually summon the process of attaining physical mobility (while still thumbing the calculator), that, of course, is imaginary while in the dream state (a fallacy that has occurred all my life when dreaming in this mode and is autosymbolic in co-occurrent continuity of the process rather than a false awakening). Although the man is not a bully, I mentally define, with engraved lines, the perimeter of a large square in the parking lot. As we watch, a Transformer robot begins to emerge until it is visible down to below its chest. In this analogy to moving into post-liminality, I walk on to the school building and soon wake.
Morning of February 9, 1971. Tuesday. Dream #: 1,513-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. I am at West Elementary School in Arcadia and walking to the building from the playground. I see lightning inside the main school building in the western area when looking north. Although it is a sunny morning, it is dark and stormy inside the classroom, though I do not see any of my schoolmates or teachers, only what appears to be a crude version of Doctor Frankenstein’s laboratory. Later, I am sitting in a taxi in the back seat on the left-hand side. The driver turns around and reveals himself to be Frankenstein’s monster. His name is Frank N. Stein, which I read on a card above the steering wheel, to its left. Nothing frightening happens. It seems more like a puzzling comedic event. The narrative is ambiguous, as even though I am getting a taxi home, the school day has not started yet. Now I ask for reasonable intelligence to understand how to decode this dream. Frankenstein’s monster awakened by way of electricity that could also be analogous to neuronal energy. It represents my own waking process and nothing more. The ambiguity of the narrative also correlates with the realization that I am not starting the school day because I am asleep. My dream’s influence was probably from Shock Armstrong, the late-night television horror host of “Shock Theatre” from Channel 13 in Tampa, Florida (from 1964-1968). (There was a similar scenario I saw in a humor magazine later in my life; a gag about the ID not looking like the driver).
Morning of October 5, 2018. Friday. Dream #: 18,918-01. Reading time: 2 min 51 sec. Readability score: 54. My conscious self as in waking life experiences its annihilation in the non-lucid dream state, and as my subconscious self, I lose viable memory of who I am and the contact with my unconscious mind that I possess in waking life. All that remains within my temporary dream self’s fictitious mind is the subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, and the essence of non-lucid dream control and its dynamics gathered from a lifetime of knowledge of the dream state. Wanting to liminally return my incomplete dream self essence to at least partial coalescence with my conscious self, I create a school setting to metaphorically learn my way back to my conscious identity to pull myself at least partially out of the illusory dream state into the liminal pre-wakefulness range of a more realistic self-awareness and mode of discernment. The teacher is an unknown female standing near the center of the classroom of which is mostly featureless. I am in the room near the doorway, to its left when facing it. All of the other students (unfamiliar), male and female, several adults and children of different ages, are outside the classroom, in the hall. They are all unsure if they want to enter the classroom but are listening to the teacher. The class is just beginning, so they have time to consider their choices. I am sitting on the wooden floor with my legs out, with the bottoms of my feet facing the doorway. All that I am wearing is a white t-shirt. I do not feel embarrassed. After all, I am in a dream and not wearing clothes as I sleep in a bed, even if that understanding is only subliminal. (Even as a child, I knew my transient fictitious dream self was not my conscious self as in reality. That may be why I have rarely ever had “bad” dreams other than when biologically premonitory.) My illusory erroneous “I am” adjusts to the scenario. I am not lucid or holding any essence of my current conscious self identity, but being near the doorway is a factor of liminal emerging consciousness. The preconscious avatar awakens and comes into existence to my left, still malleable and passive. I allow the five youngest denizens (from a prior unification star ritual in a previous lucid dream) to cheerfully enter the classroom and continue behind me to begin their studies. I do not recall the purpose of the lucid ritual in my non-lucidity. I decide to converse with the preconscious avatar, an unfamiliar male of about thirty in this incarnation, liminally attempting to transform him into a potential dream state reinducer. On the right side of my right foot is a tattoo of a big golden wind-up key. In reality, this side of my body is exposed to my real environment (as I sleep on my left side). Yellow is the color of potentially viable consciousness within the dream state. That is the link to my true self, to my conscious self identity as in waking life, and the potential for my conscious self identity to manifest within my dream self. This wind-up key is autosymbolism (and a liminal reminder that my dream self’s physicality is not real) for beginning the transition of my true conscious self into my fictitious non-lucid dream self so that my conscious will can more viably maintain the simulacrum and perhaps sustain the dream state for a time. The avatar marvels at my tattoo, and that amuses me. My precursory lucidity holds his attention, though he does not attempt to dominate the process. “I got this when I was in New York,” I deliberately lie, though as it is a dream, it could very well become the “real” backstory should my dream last for several more minutes. “The tattoo artist was a man named Gabriel Vartez.” I pull this name out of nowhere. “Vartez” has no familiarity though “Gabrielle” is Zsuzsanna’s middle name (though my dream self still does not viably remember my current conscious self status here). I am describing this fictitious event to him as if it were a significant encounter. “That’s interesting,” he responds with admiration, “Gary Vartez?” This erroneous response annoys me, but I do not say anything or indicate my annoyance. Instead, I choose to wake peacefully.
Morning of March 16, 2018. Friday. My dream’s setting is (now WWTC) WWTI’s machine tool class, where I have not been present as a student for over thirty years. (However, ironically, I did work in the school in cleaning and maintenance a few years later). I am watching a lathe, although other people are more actively working with it. It looks very old, almost like a subliminally perceived anachronism. Eventually, I see the ghostly presence of Michael G (standing on the opposite side of the lathe from where I am standing), but I do not feel threatened by his presence. The other people do not show any emotion and no conversation takes place. Key Factors: Autosymbolism factor one: The school setting is based on the absence of conscious self identity in the dream state and the subliminal association of needing to achieve wakeful consciousness again. Autosymbolism factor two: The lathe is associated with turning and I had been physically turning over to different sides due to discomfort in the warm weather. Subliminal factor: The lathe is likely also a subliminal discernment of our fan being on and facing our bed, thus would qualify as an environmental second-level dream state indicator. RAS-based marker: Michael G was a classmate who died on March 16, 1974. I am likely subliminally aware of today’s date (even though my current conscious self identity is otherwise nonexistent here), which is not a common non-lucid dream self attribute. This, as well as the distorted presence of the dream state indicator, is likely a factor of why RAS did not dominate or even activate. If this were my dream, and it is, I would ask myself if there is any chance of ever having an electric fan that would operate efficiently for longer than a few weeks in this day and age. I would ask myself if manufacturers will ever produce quality products again. I would reasonably conclude, “Probably not”. I would associate the length of the lathe with the fan’s distance from where I am in bed. I would ask myself if there is a more efficient way to sleep comfortably short of arranging ice cubes in key positions around my body. The lathe’s spindle rotates. The fan’s spindle rotates. My body rotates in bed. It is a vicious circle.
Morning of August 25, 2017. Friday. In the first part of my dream, I am mostly in the background (as a secondary character) watching high school students being questioned about drug usage and something to do with playing sports at times when sports are apparently not allowed (or at least relating to how the games are played), though this factor may be distorted as I am not focused on every detail. Apparently, every student in the school is being punished based on the actions and beliefs of only about four students. The events and interview scenes (which sometimes include two or three students) are not that vivid. The most vivid part is in the last segment of my dream, which in actuality is an offset dream that initiates the waking symbolism and also has the perspective of semi-lucidity. I am in a mostly featureless room. It begins to have the essence of higher liminal space (closer to waking consciousness). An unusual version of Johnny Whitaker, the actor from “Family Affair”, walks into the room. It seems he is going to be either in an interview or some sort of publicity, perhaps even an acting role. (This is not certain.) I recognize him as a celebrity. I call out “Jody!” He smiles and nods but does not move from his location near the doorway. I am puzzled by his lack of initiation from my side, due to very vivid memories seemingly being present, but not quite within reach. “Jody!” I yell again. His expression changes as if he suddenly gets it. “Buffy!” he yells and runs up to me as we hug. He then steps aside and speaks three phrases that sound like gibberish with a “sudsy” essence (as if gargling and speaking at the same time). However, he then clearly says “How are you?” and nods happily as I wake. Although this dream was typical coalescence waking symbolism (fairly common for me since childhood), there are some very eerie underlying layers, especially when looking at recent trends in my dreaming patterns. Consider that I have not seen the episode of “Family Affair” that this dream is directly associated with since I was very young. Also, I have not actively thought of Johnny Whitaker or Anissa Jones as in “Family Affair” in many years. Anissa Jones died on August 28, 1976, three days from today’s date. Johnny Whitaker was born December 13, 1959, so is close to my age (though I was born on December 20, 1960). As a supplement, I will add details from three recent dreams that utilized coalescence waking symbolism: “Socket Repair and my Mother and Classmates” of August 19, 2017. (Preconscious as former schoolmate Sam M and recognized as such). “Fixing a Bridge (featuring Dean Norris)” of August 24, 2017. (Preconscious as actor Dean Norris, unrecognized as a celebrity.) “Meeting Johnny Whitaker (coalescence waking symbolism)”, this dream entry’s dream, of August 25, 2017 (Preconscious as actor Johnny Whitaker, recognized as such.) What is interesting is the one with Sam M, where I absentmindedly (and accidentally) punched him in the face, thinking he was a different former classmate. He then gives medical attention to my other arm (which in real life was cramping up as I slept.) The vividness of this dream was equal to the other two. It also turned out to have prescient threads (as most of my dreams do, but I do not always update them as such). In this case, with no way of me expecting it, he had posted a joke on Facebook within about a day after my dream. It was about a professor asking God directly for “proof of God” and ended with a soldier getting up and punching him, saying that God was busy protecting soldiers so he was sent. There is much more, but this entry is long enough.
Morning of June 26, 2017. Monday. I am in a school setting, but it is completely unfamliar in regards to the school I went to in reality and I am unsure of the implied location. On one level, it seems vaguely bilocated with the area near Loomis and Gillette streets, though not the real-life school (that I never went to). I mostly spend time walking around with a young atypical version of Zsuzsanna, who seems more like a classmate around my own age. I give her love and attention, though in the background, there is the realization of many other students projecting an overall mindless nature in addition to a group mentality of no benefit to anyone, which she also seems aware of and does not want to be a part of. I refer to her as my “partner” when speaking to an unfamiliar male. After what seems a long time, the scenario changes. I have picked up a broken globe. The globe seems to have been made at least partly of glass and is only about twice as big as my fist. It is in several pieces. A male that reminds me somewhat of Zsuzsanna’s father is on the other side of the room (though I have never met him in reality and only talked to him on the telephone years ago). In a non-lucid state, I cause the broken pieces to hover in the air, with no effort other than basic thought. Soon, I decide to fix the globe. I cup my hands around the jagged variously-sized pieces after they are placed together. There is an incredible vividness of heat and steam flowing from the palms of both of my hands. I am clearly aware that this will reseal the globe, somewhat like welding, but more like melting the glass and then smoothly connecting all areas of the surface. The steam and hissing coming from my hands does not cause any discomfort even though my sense of touch is otherwise enhanced. The globe of the world is a smooth sphere again. The other male does not seem alarmed or even puzzled. This is somewhat unusual in that it is the reversal of typical dream cessation symbolism, though because of its vividness, is probably more about stabilizing my emergent consciousness factor in this case. This is one of a few dreams of this date that was directly influenced by looking back at a childhood dream from 1971, which had been influenced by seeing “Crack in the World” (a 1965 movie). This dream is more like the 1971 dream than the others. (In fact, many of the few hundred brief dreams of this sleep cycle’s beginning centered around the movie theme to some extent. The fact that I had only thought about the 1971 dream for a short time, and the fact I had not seen the movie for a long time, is puzzling in how much influence there is over a new dream which is otherwise completely unrelated to my present life status, and yet this is a very common occurrence.) Additionally, I now realize that I had also been looking at a photograph from a 1982 dream (“Apple Baby”), which is a close shot of a hand holding a large apple.
Morning of May 19, 2017. Friday. This dream seems related to the SAT dream of the same day (but not directly connected). The setting is not the same but seems like a classroom with at least four rows of school desks. An unknown person on my immediate left calls someone (on his cell phone) to give him answers for mathematics questions. Snoring comes over the phone. This seems amusing at first, but the person keeps talking into the phone. It is established that the person he is talking to is somehow communicating from a dream. Somehow, the caller believes he can get answers to the math questions from the other person’s dream. (Curiously, I am not actively lucid.) Over time, I realize that the person he is talking to is a couple seats behind him, but not on a cell phone. He has his head down, asleep over his desk. It seems obvious that the caller will get all the answers wrong since the dream state usually has no math skills, problem-solving skills, sense of logic, or critical thinking skills. (Again, somehow I know this without being actively lucid.) Soon, the personified preconscious walks into the setting. He is Lieutenant Fuzz (from the “Beetle Bailey” comic strip). However, the front of his face is that of an aardvark or anteater. (An aardvark or anteater has appeared as the preconscious waking symbolism in previous dreams, including a precognitive one, though not in the manner here.) I find it very amusing as he walks about sucking up ants from the floor and pencils that had just been dropped by students. He also sucks up the cell phone of the caller. He somehow sucks up desks and students, walking about slightly bent forward, with his hands clasped behind his back, and eventually, I get the impression that he sucks up the dream itself. I find the whole situation hilarious. This imagery seems quite familiar but I cannot determine why or from what source. I do not think it comes from the “Beetle Bailey” comic strip; perhaps Mad Magazine. The preconscious has several recurring waking elements here, an authority figure, a fictional character, and initiating coalescence of the dream self into whole consciousness (which is what dreams basically are for in the last scenes).
Morning of May 19, 2017. Friday. I am in an unfamiliar room which seems to be part of a school. Still, there is a large sink present. There are school desks perpendicular to the sink and counter. I get the impression that something is causing the water to overflow. A pencil and at least two shirts had been deliberately stuck into areas (by mischievous students, it seems) to keep the water running while the sink does not drain. It is not that common for water induction (as dream state induction) to have negative frustrating implications as here (as even many flood dreams do not have negative associations). I remove the pencil and clothes while complaining about someone jamming it and possibly causing water to ruin the wood (from it running over the top of the sink to the wall). Later, I am looking through about six or seven comic books. Curiously, an old classmate, Ann L, is whispering to me about different things. She seems to think I am too old to be reading comic books (as I seem about eighteen or so in my dream). I show her that some of them are adult comics but she does not seem to understand. There is also a Woody Woodpecker comic book, but its content relates to a human farmer doing work with a tractor in a barnyard. (This scene is bizarre on another level, as Ann L had not even crossed my mind even once in many years, so I have no idea how or why this character appeared.) The teacher had not been present all this time and some of the students had left. Others are annoyed. The (unfamiliar) teacher arrives in a taxi. At this point, the setting has changed and seems modeled after my high school’s open lunch break area near the school chuckwagon (though there is the typical ambiguity of a combined indoor-outdoor essence). We are going to take the SAT test. I read through several pages of the test. Interestingly, even though I am not lucid, the writing is clear to read and does not change at any time. One phrase says, “Describe a dream you had, in detail”. Another says, “Describe why you are angry at this test”. There is one area where I write my name as well as needing to fill in the circles that contain the letters of my name. I am aware that whatever handwriting is on the pages is read by OCR, the filled-in circles by the original method. Without realizing it until later, the induction event was partly precognitive. After waking, it turns out that Zsuzsanna had discovered that a window we had not used in a long time was jammed. Part of the problem was a pencil with a strange figure on the eraser end that was not one of ours. I had to use a screwdriver to pry part of the frame out (both the vertical part and the sill) to get the window to become unstuck (though it may also have gotten like this from rainwater swelling it slightly). I had my dream before Zsuzsanna noticed this, though at least one dream per day (validated to have been seemingly continuous even before we met in reality by looking at her old journals) is based on something she had been thinking about just previously without telling me, usually the most unusual or unlikely feature or event - which validates a possible biological factor relevant to survival. Still, as in this case, the precognitive element is sometimes mixed in as composite synthesis (though often all the visual dynamics are exact). However, Zsuzsanna also told me she used a wire to unblock the laundry sink recently (and had not told me) and aside from the typical debris, found an artist’s paintbrush stuck in it.
Morning of May 5, 2017. Friday. I am teaching a psychology class based on the Holt, Rhinehart, and Winston textbook (which I only actively used for one year). It seems to be eleventh or twelfth grade (with no association with AP students). One female, a young version of Zsuzsanna, is somehow seated on the desktop rather than the seat near the front of the class, to the right. The rest of the students are sitting in their desk’s seat. Over time, I am trying to focus on a chart over the chalkboard. At first, I assume it is something to do with levels of consciousness (which is not a real part of the textbook in the way it is displayed). The bottom is first labelled as “UNCONSCIOUS”. Looking more closely however, I see that it says “PRIMARY PRODUCERS”. It then dawns on me that I am actually trying to explain something relevant to biology and what looks to be a food pyramid diagram. Still, I become curious when the animal icons on the left (one on each “step”) all appear to be primates, displayed as if they are meant to be going up the steps of the supposed food pyramid. The one on the second-last step is a human, but in silhouette as in the other cases. Looking more closely, they appear somewhat distorted, almost like inkblots or human shadows with three or more arms in odd positions. Still, I look at the top of the triangle, where the “TERTIARY CONSUMERS” section terminates. It firstly appears to be a man flexing his left biceps. I look more and more closely and finally see it is Atom Ant (the cartoon superhero). I squint trying to work out what is going on. Perhaps someone played a trick on me and tampered with the diagram. As my emergent consciousness kicks in, I am trying to work out how an ant would symbolize my emergent consciousness. Then I realize that the phrase “Up and at'em - Atom Ant!” is a reference to waking up and getting out of bed. This dream was directly influenced by a dream (from January 2, 2016) that I reviewed and posted on a couple sites before my last sleeping period; the one titled “Evolution of Waking”. It has very similar waking symbolism and also (though less present as here) the idea of waking as “evolving”. Continuously studying and understanding my dreams for over fifty years, it seems obvious that many of my dreams have integrated a virtuous circle into some dream types, where the real-time waking symbolism is so obvious as to be a no-brainer in many cases, even in surreal scenarios such as this and the January 2, 2016 dream.
Morning of April 17, 2017. Monday. I find myself wandering through an unfamiliar school, the very large expansive building implied to be of one floor, it seems. (It may be modeled after my old middle school in Florida.) For some reason, I get this impression of a backstory where I had been seeking special classrooms that teach adults. It relates to physical education, I think, and possibly martial arts, but the details are not that clear. It may be that I am, under pretense, just looking for “hidden” areas in the building. I talk with an unknown male who is walking in the hall. I tell him about having heard rumors from people (and this is by deliberate pretense, as it seems I am just making up the whole concept to justify my exploration) about a hidden or secret classroom near the back of the building that teaches adults. He denies that there are ever any classes held beyond the hall we are in (which really is not logical, though I do not question him - though it may just be that the rooms are being renovated presently). I continue towards the back of the school building. I eventually reach an area where there seems to be a class being held to my right (which means that the other male was either lying or was unaware of it). The door is open and I can see that the classroom is full. It seems that it may be sixth or seventh grade. I think about talking to the teacher (who is unseen, as the door opens to the back of the class) but I do not want to disrupt the class. I notice an unfamiliar girl who has a light freckle-colored pattern over about half of her face and neck. Soon, all of the students start singing “The Bear Went Over The Mountain”. They sing very harmoniously, and the song goes on for quite a while. (I get the vague impression that it is for my benefit, though this is not certain.) I go back to the other male to tell him about the class and he seems puzzled. Soon, I realize I had absentmindedly had my leg in a bad position, pressing down on the surface of a table I am sitting on. He tells me that I have a medical condition, saying what it is (though I do not recall the term). I say “I don’t care”, as when I move my leg, the condition apparently resolves itself. There is a diamond-shaped hole in my right leg; inward, in about the middle of my lower leg. Soon, my skin rises up to the correct level to match the rest of my leg and I clearly see blood filling the area under the skin, which changes from the white diamond shape to normal appearance. “The Bear Went Over The Mountain” seems to be redundant of the nature of the dream itself, and also seems a play on the “subconscious mind” myth. Even though I supposedly go beyond a recognized area of the school, I simply end up on the other side of the school, though I suspect there are additional meanings (such as similarity to the phrase “over the hill”, though only by society’s nonsensical beliefs). Update Wednesday, 3 May 2017: The unfamiliar girl was a precognitive thread as I suspected. For their privacy reasons, I will not go into detail. On a side note, the “medical problem” might be a loose reference to my vagus nerve (though it is not life-threatening), but that is only assuming it was not a reference to a real-time physical position (in sleep) concerning my leg. On an additional note, the “subconscious mind” myth continues to baffle me, especially considering that nearly all dreams (other than the precognitive threads) are entirely erroneous in nature. The school setting is simply the result of being unconscious and the critical thinking skills of the conscious self being temporarily lost as a result and the dream self seeking to relearn the state of wakefulness. (As I have often explained before, I only use the term “subconscious” to designate the dream self as the “personified subconscious”, only to distinguish it from the unconscious, preconscious - especially when personified, the emergent consciousness, and whole conscious self identity.)
Updated 09-08-2019 at 06:13 PM by 1390
Morning of October 23, 2016. Sunday. In my dream, I am only about twelve years old. I had missed my school bus and I decide that I will walk to school (regardless of the fact that it would take far too long in reality). There is no memory of my current conscious self identity. On my way, I go through what I consider to be a part of the supposed normal school bus route but in actuality it is through a few unfamiliar areas. In one area, there are about four features (not close together) that look like oversized birdhouses that seem to be for some sort of ritualistic purpose or perhaps are implied to be small wayside shrines. There is a sense of nonthreatening eeriness to the region. The birdhouses’ entrances look like tree silhouettes, which adds to the eeriness. I remain uncertain of whether or not I have to acknowledge these seemingly important artifacts before moving on, but I decide to keep walking. The last part of my journey involves walking through a field of grass that is up to my knees. However, off to my left, is a long perimeter of higher grass (about six feet high) and weeds and thin shrubs. An unrealistic number of insects (not venomous) continue to swarm out over me and the rest of the area, making a buzzing sound. Although this is a somewhat difficult situation in that so many flying insects are slowing my progress towards an area where other students are standing around near the school, I am not annoyed. In fact, I am focused on the extreme vividness and seeming beauty of the area as I walk along, becoming lucid in the final moments, though letting my dream fade. The main reason for this dream was from looking at a number of school bus dreams from the 1970s yesterday, so much of my residual thoughts were focused on that and were eventually rendered into the typical autosymbolic journey that leads back into consciousness, waking life, and the conscious self identity. The birdhouse-like structures represent the usual flight symbol factor from autosymbolism relating to vestibular system dynamics that occurs in over twenty percent of my dreams (averaging out to about two dreams per normal sleeping period), and subliminal associations with our own bedroom and being home (rather than being out walking around as my illusory dream implies). The eerie tree silhouettes in place of the birdhouse doors is a subliminal association with my physical body not moving in sleep, with the whole birdhouse-like feature with a vague subliminal anticipation of the common hypnopompic kick or waking start. I also tend to dream about long grass when I am subliminally aware of the bed sheet pulling on my legs more than usual. The buzzing insects at the end were autosymbolic for the subliminal perception of increased neural activity, which also triggers certain types of lucidity as here. This dream is similar to a number of other dreams since childhood, including “Wayside Shrine” from January 1, 2002.
Updated 03-28-2018 at 03:33 PM by 1390
Morning of September 9, 2015. Wednesday. I am apparently at a department of education building, possibly in Brisbane, but it is more like my old school in Arcadia. However, the building may actually be at least four storeys high or more, though I think we are on the top floor. There also seem to be classes held at times or at least meetings, mostly with eighteen-year-olds and up. I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in one of the rooms and I start to work on a subtraction program for our two youngest sons to enhance their speed in general mathematics. Over time, I am actually able to read and resolve the code, but I still do not feel it is perfect, as I want to make sure there are no errors in how the digits are presented and such in columns (though I still want the randomization to be reasonable). My wife and I seem to be the only people in the building at first at one point (though I sensed our two youngest sons were there earlier), as I sense it is late at night and the building has mostly been locked for the night. However, at least one other person, an obnoxious young Ivy Leaguer from Yale of about twenty years old (who seems a fictional associate or old classmate at one point, though I never went to Yale) is in the building, but is causing problems with the building’s security as well as possibly damaging or altering cache copies of extensive records and educational reports and administration feedback and with the seeming goal of replacing important information with mindless gossip about each and every teacher and student. He is even putting glitches in the calculus programs and altering images and data in civics and sociology programs. I decide to alter the building’s computer system and block access to the internal workings of the building and all the records. This is unusual in that the building itself is like a computer relative to software-driven doors, lights, elevator functions, and many other features. It is as if everything in the building is somehow linked to computer software (though seemingly not voice-driven). The pad for the main building’s system looks like Windows calculator. I falsely “remember” a special function that does not cause the building to “self-destruct” but to cause total confusion for clueless intruders and would-be vandals. I enter the Qword DEAD C0DE 0BAD FEED as a hexadecimal input (with of course the “0” being a zero as the letters only go from A to F, thus why it is called hexadecimal - for the six letters). This causes random byte values to be placed in random buffers all over the building in every software-driven section, similar to the “poke” command on old Commodore 64 computers (though in this case does not breach the internal records, which are all backed up in non-adjacent systems). Various lights go off and on randomly and even random doors open and close. This seems to all be taking place on at least the third floor at this point. After awhile, the unknown male comes out of a room and seems annoyed. He tells me that all this chaos will alert the authorities (or possibly even randomly trigger an alarm). He seems to think I am “with” him, but my wife and I just want him out and then we will leave the building. He apparently thinks it is amusing to disrupt the educational and social progress of people of all ages (including children). When we are walking in a hall, I push him into a malfunctioning elevator that is halfway between floors but the fall does not injure him that badly. This scene is the most vivid and realistic part of my dream, though I am not lucid at any point. (This also now triggers a memory of when my sister Marilyn used to say “his elevator doesn’t go to the top floor” when talking about an annoying or less-intelligent person.) From here, I notice some sort of meeting being held in one classroom, which I can see through the glass walls and horizontal darker zebrawood beams on the other side of the hall from the elevator. The speaker is an older lady with gray hair and somewhat stocky (she does not look at all familiar in any way). She seems very friendly and responsive. I ask her if there are any authorities in the building but at this point, things seem to be getting back to normal as it seems the intruder has left the building (or possibly already caught by security guards or police), which has rebooted itself with one of the random values triggering the reboot function. My wife and I go to the first floor. Just prior to us walking from the building into the late night (or very early morning), I notice we are completely undressed. I am not even sure how and when that happened. Perhaps one of the random values triggered the erasing of our clothes, but that is only a very vague and very brief contemplation. I pull a thin bed sheet seemingly out of nowhere (out of the air itself, it seems) to cover myself as we walk home, feeling quite happy at this point.
Updated 06-18-2018 at 05:58 PM by 1390
Morning of August 22, 2015. Saturday. It seems I am returning to, I think, fourth grade, though the school is actually the one I only went to the first part of first grade to in reality (before moving to Florida). I am more like a miniature version of my adult self instead of seeing from a child’s perspective. For whatever reason, a faux “child version” of actor Billy Burke (as he appears on the television series “Zoo”, one of the only shows we watch presently) is also going to school (complete with glasses and a five o'clock shadow). He walks on my left side and I talk with him about what to expect as we head towards the main entrance. In a way, this seems odd due to the fact that I had supposedly gone to this same grade several times before (which is not like any aspect of reality - in fact, they always wanted to put me two grades higher in the earlier grades - though I refused their advice). It is also a slight association with apparently having been the same age before. As we go into the school, I realize that the school had recently been in some sort of bad weather that destroyed many of the records. In fact, the floors of the halls are still wet, with a few puddles here and there. I see random sheets of notebook paper and partly opened damaged backpacks here and there, the notebook pages of homework and schoolwork ruined by the water. I do not know quite what to think as it seems school will not be held this day even though a lot of students are arriving. Only on one level do I associate a real life event from 1966 with this scene. I had gone to the school grounds on what was apparently a day off (my mother not being aware of this for whatever reason) and on my way into the building, I accidentally splashed into a puddle that was deeper than I first thought. Once I got into the building, two teenage boys took me into the principal’s office and went on and on about it being the worst thing I had probably ever done (one boy actually sitting on the principal’s desk, the other in the chair) and how much trouble I would be in for “tracking water into the school” and misbehaving. It was only later that I began to realize that this event did not really make any sense. I was only five at the time and for whatever reason, thought these boys might actually be part of the legitimate school system, perhaps the sons of the principal or one of the teachers. I never reported this incident and simply walked around in the building before going home later, and never understood why the building would be open if it was an actual holiday. It is possible that “Billy” is a play on “bully” here, though I cannot be certain. The only other embarrassing event from this time period was dropping all my math flashcards all over the intersection near Rose Street and I absentmindedly ran around picking them all up (including in front of moving cars) while the crossing guard stopped all the cars for a few minutes, me chasing after some of them as the wind blew them around. I actually kept these cards until just after I moved back to Wisconsin, a few of the cards still having tire marks on them.
Morning of November 21, 2013. Thursday. In my dream, I am in a school, apparently, but there seem to be attributes that remind me a lot of my sister’s house on Loomis Street, though bigger in area. A foreman and friend who had shot himself in real life (Patrick; nickname Hooker) seems to be one of the teachers or actually more like a composite also inclusive of a high school science teacher. It is going on nine o'clock at night (which I do not see until near the end of my dream by looking at a clock on the south wall). All of the students (we seem to be in our twenties and thirties) are working on helping to manually put together some workbooks that are somehow for the benefit of the whole school, which does not seem a practical endeavor. I have already completed one book and will apparently get a small payment. It involves starting from the first page and simply writing sums that increment by one or ten or whatever from that point to the end of the book. The books are 96-page ruled exercise books of 8mm feint, about 9 x 7 inches I think. Horizontally, there is room for four problems or possibly five. I am continuously annoyed by seeing that the second one I am to complete is not perfect on yet the first page when looking back and that there are errors in what I had written, including not having an extra space between the sets so that they run together a little too closely from top to bottom (not leaving enough room for whoever solves them), accidentally skipping the lower addend of a sequence now and then, etc. I spend a lot of time erasing, never getting past the first three rows. The first page seems to start with 100 + 1 (column form - all problem templates are in column form), 100 + 2, 100 + 3, 100 + 4, and so on. Eventually, I happen to skim the pages and notice a few pages with colorful stickers here and there (apparently put in by someone else earlier during the day) that have similar problems with pictures and take up about the same space as the written efforts - and will supposedly end up filling the same logical sequencing when all the manual work is done (while manually skipping the sticker regions that are part of the sequencing). Most of the colorful stickers are nearer to the middle of the booklet. After that, I see that there are several pages of complex equations which fill each page, several pages in from the front, and realize that the book is something I should keep and had in fact started to make into a school workbook accidentally (from it being with the others for a short time but long enough for someone else to have worked on it prior). Not wanting to mess my book up any more than it is I inform the teacher that I will finish it later (a deliberate lie - I will start anew on another one - this one will not be “missed” as it was already mine) and casually insert it into the middle area of a larger exercise book within my larger binder. Around this time I also look at the clock (which is higher on the wall, only about a foot down from the ceiling) and see it is about nine o'clock at night and so I wonder why everyone is still working, as I reason the classwork should have probably ended around 4:30 in the afternoon. I eventually reflect on a false memory that someone (not sure who) had ordered some pizzas and drink for me (in addition to perhaps a couple other friends or classmates) about an hour and a half prior - and that it is my responsibility to pick it up now. The pizza place is supposedly adjacent to our “school” and north of it and open until midnight but I have concerns on how I will prove to the cashiers that I am the one who is supposed to pick up the order - yet I am also not entirely sure when the school session ends. I am still looking forward to it, assuming it all works out and that the cashiers will know what they are doing. I am thinking on that for awhile and wake up before leaving the “school” via the front east entrance.
A major recurring theme in my early teenage years was of being in school but also being hidden inside a large cardboard box (I was not a shy person in real life, though, but in my dreams these were grades that were still a few years off yet, such as grades nine or ten in the high school). Sometimes the box had a small rectangular window (perhaps inspired by the “Don’t Open Till Doomsday” episode of “The Outer Limits” I saw at a very early age), but other times, no way to see out. Some recurring events were: Being a “hero” by somehow stopping a crime in the school but still being inside the box the whole time - and no one knowing what I looked like. In some cases, this was a bully, in other cases, an adult robber (but why would anyone rob a school - with no larger amounts of money in a safe, as a robber claimed in one version of my dream). Playing harmless practical jokes on the teacher by acts such as taking a stapler from her desk and her not knowing there was someone inside the box, which, I think in most cases, was for a large air conditioner or some such. Somehow kissing a girl (including on the legs) without her understanding that there was a person inside the box. Falling out a second or third-floor window yet not getting hurt. In most cases, the box somehow kept its rectangular shape even though it was not that thick. These dreams mostly stopped when I actually was in the higher grades at school.