Blue_Opossum

Morning of July 1, 2018. Sunday.



In the first part of my dream, the induction factor stems from non-lucid nostalgic associations with “Star Trek” comic books. I am in an unfamiliar second-hand bookstore (which I had non-lucidly created), though no one else is present. There are also DVDs present of which apparently contain episodes of “Star Trek” that I have not seen. My dream self is vaguely aware that there are 79 regular episodes but does not remember that I had seen every episode at least a few times. I somehow watch part of one “previously unseen” episode by way of dreaming within my dream, though still implied to be of the same setting and events. It involves activity on the Enterprise bridge.

From here, my dream becomes extraordinarily vivid. I am in the “Star Trek” universe and on another planet at night (at first). Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy are present, though I have no memory at all of the character Spock. My wife Zsuzsanna and our children are also present in one area, validating that at least a few threads of my conscious self identity are present. There is a small hill (about two feet high at the peak) of minerals of two different colors; blue and yellow. It is near a small building. I let these small glittering stones flow through my fingers and feel very peaceful. I marvel at their essence.

Later, I walk over and look at the incredible beauty of a canyon through a fissure in a high rocky hill, and it now seems suddenly daytime (the usual ambiguous time jumping of the dream state). There is a downward slope giving the impression of a narrow hall of rocky walls (the fissure) before the expanse of the canyon opens up a great distance below and beyond with more mountains on the other side. I ask my youngest daughter if she wants to take a closer look at this beautiful area, but she is wary of how deep the canyon is. However, there is not much danger, because the end of the fissure is not wide enough for someone to walk through. In fact, when I look again, it is narrower than before and it is less likely to allow an accidental fall.There is a cheerful mood.

Later, when my dream is somewhat less vivid and focused more on the fictitious “Star Trek” scenario, Captain Kirk is talking to some aliens that otherwise appear as ordinary people as on Earth. These aliens live in cylinders that rotate in the air several feet above the ground. The objects are only big enough for one person to move around in. The area is like a sparse forest. The aliens seem to think humanity is undeveloped and barbaric, though they still talk to Captain Kirk and Dr. McCoy with a friendly demeanor. The conversation relates to a trade of natural resources.

Captain Kirk explains how the same species would develop differently on a different planet and in a different environment. The alien male in charge of the bartering operation expresses appreciation and says that he understands the concept and thanks Captain Kirk for explaining it to him. (As is often the case, I am aware that my conscious mind and current conscious self identity is creating my dream, though not in the lucid sense or with a viable recall of what a dream is.) My dream fades from here.

---

There was no discernible preconscious avatar in this dream (despite the celebrity presence and it being the final dream of my sleep cycle) and no subconscious self focus on RAS mediation or modulation. As a result, I returned to sleeping more deeply for an additional two hours even with noise and activity in our home.

Vestibular system correlation did find its way into my dream, though did not fully initiate. The canyon view had the liminal space divider (preconscious bulwark) as the fissure that was not wide enough to step through, so there was no chance of falling (biological waking process). Additionally, the aliens supposedly living in a cylinder slowly spinning above the ground was a precursor of vestibular system association, though my thoughts did not coalesce enough to wake during these typical processes and I had a very soft and slow awakening for today as a result. (I had been more tired than usual prior to my sleep cycle.)

---

Early evening of July 27, 2017. Thursday.

Dream #: 8,483-07. Reading time: 1 min 10 sec.



Precursory (vestibular): I enter my dream self’s imaginary physical body and find myself running. I am Grant Williams as Scott Carey in the 1957 movie “The Incredible Shrinking Man.” I am running over the top of a series of cardboard boxes on about the fourth shelf up of a metal utility shelving unit. I am about four inches tall. I do not seem to be running because of a threat, just running along. (“On the shelf” is autosymbolism that is analogous to being in bed. The closed boxes represent the inability to move my body while sleeping, yet I am running on them as I still subliminally perceive my muscularity.)

Virtual witness integration: Zsuzsanna, appearing somewhat like a 1950s actress, is running behind me, though to my left. There is a heightened sense of energy. (This short dream occurred at about 5:30 pm AEST during a nap. Zsuzsanna was in bed with me at the time. She was to my left because she was to my left in bed, and behind me, because I was closer to waking as liminally perceived by my dream self.)

The drop: Soon, I see the scene from an incorporeal viewpoint from the front of the shelving unit. “We” are running from left to right. Grant Williams as Scott Carey as “me,” running at an angle, runs straight off the cardboard box from off the front of the shelf and falls to the floor onto his right side and kicks. Simultaneously, I experience a mild hypnopompic kick and upper back spasm as I realize the residual imagery reflects my sleeping position. (I am looking down at my body.)

---

This July 27, 2017 dream is a fictitious scene from “The Incredible Shrinking Man.” Grant Williams died on July 28, 1985.

---

Morning of July 25, 2017. Tuesday.



I am in an unfamiliar room, though of which may be implied to be of our present home on W Street. There is a miniature two-storey mansion near one wall. Its appearance is unfamiliar. Still, I recognize this dollhouse as a known possession by way of a fictional backstory. It is big for a dollhouse, coming up to about the height of my waist when I am standing, though my viewpoint relevant to its size changes, especially in the last scene of my dream.

I study it for seemingly a long time. I sense the presence of my family but I mainly focus on the rooms of this intriguing miniature house. I also study the outside of it, noting every detail.

The main scene involves looking more closely at the back of the dollhouse as I turn it around, into the rooms on the second floor. There are three windows on the second floor of about the same size. I reach in through a window to turn a light on. The lights in all three rooms come on when I do this. I clearly feel (though cannot see from my position) the miniature light switch as a small bump that I push in the opposite orientation. It seems to be near the top of a flight of stairs.

Eventually, I am aware of an unfamiliar black male to my left. Curiously, I do not see this stranger as an imposer in our home. He seems cheerful. I do not learn his name (or recall it if it was given). He talks a lot, but I cannot discern most of what he is saying. It borders on gibberish, but I do eventually understand some phrases. I know some of it relates to Leonard Bernstein and a certain supposedly rare record album of his.

Looking through the middle window of the dollhouse, I see a small wooden box on the right, its shorter end adjacent to the window. Upon looking closer, I experience joy upon seeing what appear to be a number of copies of “Science Fiction Adventures” arranged vertically and facing the window. (Science Fiction Adventures was an American digest-size science fiction magazine, published from 1952 to 1954 by Science Fiction Publications.) Curiously, they seem to be of normal size (even though this would not be possible to resolve with a conscious viewpoint).

I see the rare record of Leonard Bernstein that the male was talking about. It is in a room on the first floor in the back of the dollhouse, seen through the middle window. Even though it is miniature, it seems it will be of normal size when I give it to him. At this point though, it seems to be (or change into) a thick paperback book. However, he tells me to keep it, as I start to consider that he may be homeless and have no place to keep it or to read or “listen” to it. After trying to get him to accept my gift, he still seems cheerful but declines.

---

• While an aquarium (not a feature of this dream but included here for contrast) is a real-time downsized model of the unconscious mind while sleeping, a dollhouse is a real-time downsized model of the conscious mind while sleeping. This is validated by my dream self turning on the three lights (with one switch) in the back of the dollhouse, which symbolizes activating the parietal lobe (somatic sensory association area). This is additionally validated by my augmented sense of touch upon feeling the miniature light switch at this point. Somatic senses are sometimes referred to as somesthetic senses, with the understanding that somesthesis includes the sense of touch, proprioception (sense of position and movement), and (depending on usage) haptic perception. The main difference between a dollhouse and an aquarium is that an aquarium is related more to induction, although typically, less water in an aquarium over time is a transmutation into waking symbolism.
• The supposedly rare Leonard Bernstein record was on the first floor in back of the dollhouse, which would be analogous to the occipital lobe; visual cortex. (PGO waves are a feature of human REM sleep.)
• Additionally, the “Science Fiction Adventures” magazines symbolizes imagination as potentially sourced from within the mind model (as critical thinking skills are only extant when awake).
• This dream’s personified preconscious (the presumably homeless black male) follows the lifelong established rules of this dreaming component. There is no conflict as I have already activated the waking symbolism by turning on the lights (which symbolizes increasing neural activity in real time in the last stage of the waking transition, which also makes my dream more vivid).
• As the lights in the front of the dollhouse on the left of the first floor are not on in most scenes, this may be analogous of the preconscious seemingly speaking gibberish for the most part. (Language processing has been linked to Broca’s area.)
• The miniature light switch is near the top of the stairs (from the first floor); “the top of the stairs” being analogous to the emergent consciousness (a precursor to waking up), as in hundreds of other dreams I have decoded since childhood. (Scott suggests that consciousness “emerges” at the top of a hierarchically ordered nervous system. Scott compares the hierarchy of the nervous system to a flight of stairs or the rungs of a ladder. “Altered Egos: How the Brain Creates the Self”, page 126, sourced from “Stairway to the Mind” by Alwyn Scott.)
• I might assume that the Leonard Bernstein record (though which may be a book in the last scene) is a facet of the transpersonal interconsciousness. The soundwave of a musical recording might be analogous to brainwaves. (By analogy, Leonard Bernstein is a conductor. Different neural activities will produce different brainwave patterns)
• Here is an unexplainable surprise: The personified preconscious in this dream turned out to be of a precognitive thread (This is often the case, but I do not always include it in an online dream journal entry). This “same” black homeless male was across the street from our house later in the day after my dream. (Neither Zsuzsanna nor I approached him.) This is a very rare occurrence and I had never seen him before.

---

Morning of March 22, 2017. Wednesday.



This is a very long and vivid dream with a lot of different events. The location is not known, but it is implied to take place in our home in most scenes and there are rooms from various houses we have lived.

I become aware of what I first think is a snake that is hanging down from a hanging planter. Soon, it flawlessly transforms into a long leaf. I start talking to my family about what I had seen. I want to film it but for some reason the camera is not available, which annoys me. Over time, this creature changes into many other things, based on some sort of learning curve related to being in the same place more than once. I do not refer to it as “extraterrestrial” until the last segment, although I am not sure if it really is from another planet.

I handle this creature, which in its original form, is some sort of worm. At times, it is more like a miniature egg though is very malleable; somewhat like clay, somewhat like a leech. I place it on notebook paper and it transforms into a pencil. (This same scene occurs at least three times, as I repeat my experiments to see what it does.)

In some cases, it merely changes color when I place it on a surface, though its color always perfectly matches the surface color. It does not really seem to try to escape when I hold it.

There is a scene where I drink a cup of water or other liquid at a table. My throat feels a bit strange, as if something is stuck in it, and I look down into the cup and see that the liquid is filled with tiny pale worms swimming about in the water, all upward and out from the center. A young black male tells me that what I am drinking came from McDonald’s. He tells me how he did not want to be a part of it, but that they put these creatures in some drinks and normal earthworms in others as some sort of test. The several worms I had swallowed become one large one after I remove them from my throat. I am not concerned in any way. It looks just like the original worm.

I place it on a moped seat (which for some reason is indoors, the room seeming like my den on Stadcor Street, the moped facing the doorway though leaning against the wall). The worm oddly transforms into an unusual human-like girl (who remains sitting on the moped) but hairless and with bright pink skin and slight feline characteristics. The other male looks on and scowls. “Oh no, I’m having none of this,” he says.

Most of the rest of my dream involves more experiments where it goes through a number of intriguing and even beautiful multicolored changes. I also place it on a pillow in one of the final scenes as a dream-sign-based waking precursor, with non-lucid dream control.

---

This dream is all about transformation and adapting to the dream state as the worm does not change anything else; only itself, as an amazing analogy to one type of dream state alchemy, though the worm exhibited far more of a natural and automatic control than I ever had in non-lucid dreams (although I have transformed into different things in the past, including both animals and furniture as well as utilizing invisibility, phasing through walls and roofs of cars, and flying since early childhood). Of course, there is a big difference between adapting to a dream or dream environment and fully controlling a dream.

---

Morning of February 14, 2017. Tuesday.



I somehow have a watermelon seed embedded near my left ear. Part of it is still visible. I do not think it will cause too much trouble, though it does get bigger and green leaves eventually appear on the left side of my face.

However, it is not a watermelon plant, but a Triffid. He is my son. He has eaten a number of people by my dream’s last segment, but I believe he will mostly be okay in human society with his Triffid ways.

---

Other dreams of this date previously posted: “A Lot of Balls in the Front Yard” and “Lollipops”. My (non-lucid) dream self rarely has any clue to what year it is let alone the date, but there are sometimes residual memories of holidays. There seems to be evidence here with all three dreams thus far posted (of February 14, 2017) of associations with either Easter or Valentine’s Day. “A Lot of Balls in the Front Yard” seems more associated with Easter, as there are a lot of what may be transparent eggs (or rubber balls?) in the front yard, though possibly frog’s eggs. Candy can be associated with Easter but also Valentine’s Day as well as flowers or lilies for either holiday, though Triffids are like lilies, so more of an Easter association, I think. It is as if my dream self subliminally “knows” there is a holiday, but not which one.

There is an amusing detail about my “Lollipops” dream though, regarding people who think they can understand other people’s dreams without even knowing or understanding what a dream actually is. In this case, a person tried to “interpret” an actual dynamic of my environment that I had not indicated was as such - meaning, there was a real mouse in our bed, which is partly what triggered that dream, which of course they could not have known.

The inherent truth behind this dream is that, before I came to Australia and married my lovely dream girl Zsuzsanna, her mother (who is “disturbed” to put it nicely) sent me a peace lily. This distorted with the “day of love” (Valentine’s Day) relating to my happiness with Zsuzsanna (and our first son) but also with the science-fiction eeriness of “Day of the Triffids” and the lily association with Easter. You see, only I could know this, and only I can “interpret” my dreams (though the core meanings and distortions behind dreams is more of the dynamics of the dream state, not waking life, other than with literal prescience). The watermelon seed association is also personally relevant to my more distant past, though I will not get into it here.

Morning of January 11, 2017. Wednesday.



I find myself with my wife Zsuzsanna. We are sitting on a small beach-like area and are outside enjoying the nighttime scenery. However, to our left is an unknown male and female in their bed in some sort of distorted and bilocated corner of a bedroom (though every other dream aspect implies we are outside). Even though they are in bed, they are also working as tourist guides (and seemingly are a married couple in their late twenties).

Looking out over the ocean, I see a small island. This small island is supposedly a part of Germany. I see the Reichstag building, which directly faces us. Oddly, right behind this, is Big Ben, though only about a third as tall as it should be. I am clearly aware that this is an amazing sight that can only be appreciated from our present location. We somehow see a feature of Germany, and right behind it, a feature of the UK (which is of course ridiculous, but I am only vaguely puzzled by the sight). We continue to appreciate this beautiful scene. I sit on Zsuzsanna’s left, holding her hand. The imagery is very vivid and I watch the motions of the ocean’s surface. Other than the tourist guides in their bed, who gave us a brochure in the first segment, we are the only people present. The moonlight on the water is beautiful.

I consider that I am not fully certain of where we are. Again, I know that the little island is a part of Germany though we ourselves are apparently nowhere near Germany (even though we could probably swim to the islands from where we are sitting). Just beyond that is the UK which is also a tiny island with Big Ben being the only discernible UK feature at this distance. I reason that we are probably either in Hawaii or California though this is not certain.

I start to realize that we have traveled from the future into this past, which is 1969. In fact, it must be July 24, 1969 due to what happens next (at least in part). The tourist guides do not seem to be all that alarmed by this fact and simply hand us another brochure. There is a short conversation about the differences between certain landmarks in 1969 and 2016 (and thus my dream self is not aware it is 2017).

A helicopter flies overhead in the night sky in the opposite direction from where the bilocated bed is. From this helicopter falls the Apollo 11 spacecraft, its parachutes immediately opening, the craft seeming a bit larger than it should be. I expect that it will probably explode and it does. It explodes into a massive fireworks display, debris flying everywhere over a dense forest. (This makes no sense of course, as the spacecraft actually came through Earth’s atmosphere, not dropped from a helicopter.)

From the debris of Apollo 11 in the dense isolated forest beyond (to our right) comes two white robotic Etch-a-Sktech-like devices. They somehow end up being near Zsuzsanna and I even though they have no visible legs of any kind yet came a fair distance. The ocean water level goes down by a fair amount. I am wary of one of the devices even though they are nearly identical. Even though I know that one is ours, I reason that the other belongs to the tourist guides and may have some sort of security function that does not want people from the future in the vicinity. However, I then begin to realize that 1969 probably does not have the technology to detect people from the future even though our device is detecting these people from the past and recognizing the setting as 1969. The original scene over the ocean becomes some sort of large computer screen featuring some sort of spreadsheet imagery. The setting seems to have more of an indoor feel at this point.

---

• The common dream state indicator of the bilocated bed, especially the tourist guide couple, are an obvious play on “traveling while asleep”, a direct reference to dreaming. The other married couple are a projection of Zsuzsanna and I being asleep and dreaming at the time.
• The clock tower (Big Ben, which refers to the bell, which symbolizes the wake-up call) is a more dominant circadian rhythms feature, “overseeing the water” (sleep cycle: During sleep, the flow of cerebrospinal fluid in the brain increases dramatically, washing away harmful waste proteins that build up between brain cells during waking hours). A tower also symbolizes emergent consciousness (the conscious self identity being above the fictional dream setting).
• The ocean waters lower (sleeping and the dream state ebbs since water represents the dynamics of sleep in real time), the setting slowly transforming from outdoors to indoors; a typical waking transition.
• The return flight feature explodes in this case by my (non-lucid) expectation, though this implies a thread of instinctual dream control.
• The preconscious is here a threatening white robotic Etch-a-Sketch that apparently can teleport, which is about as weird as it gets. Even so, it (and the spreadsheet) is a reminder of conscious self identity, as only the conscious self with its critical thinking skills can create and utilize viable technology and perceive written communication for a sustained time period.
• The Apollo 11 parachutes are a type of dream sign and are analogous to pillowcases, as I sometimes am irritated with trying to fit a pillowcase back on a pillow prior to sleeping or sometimes wake up with the pillowcase off.

---

Morning of September 24, 2015. Thursday.




Firstly in my dream, I seem to be living in the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane, but it eventually transforms into a much larger structure that seems partly embedded in a mountain, as there are rooms that are like caves later on. Prior to the shifting setting change, there is a young male that appears to have some sort of medical problem. He claims to have a toothache that is supposedly related to a headache even though the “headache” (the source being near the top of his head and related to a protruding blood vein) is somehow in his jaw. The male reminds me of a younger version of my wife’s brother George (Gyorgy). I ask him if I can help in any way, but he seems more annoyed by the present living arrangements than his continuous pain and potential nearing demise.

There are two other people in the house who may be younger versions of two of our children (oldest son and daughter). At one point, I teach some Russian, but it is mainly only two rows of audio-based prompts on a computer screen and primarily relates to pronouns, including variations of “I” and “me”; “ya”, “menya”, and “mne”. Over time, I become aware of there being more people around.

There is seemingly a nuclear explosion in the distance, but very loud in my dream’s immediate setting. When I look out, however, it looks quite odd, like narrow clustered columns of pink and orange smoke rising high into the sky in the distance, right on the horizon (from an unknown city). This seems to mean that modern society, for the most part, no longer exists. I notice our home seems to be isolated and within a composite of desert and meadow, with no signs of any other buildings. However, I still hear several dogs barking at the distant explosion, which almost seems to be a good sign.

We now live in an unusual composite of large cave and house, though with a layout somewhat like a shopping mall, with a public court and an additional adjoining building or group of buildings. Someone (unknown) says that the monster can now leave - which relates to the nuclear event somehow or the fact that there are not many people left in the world for it to terrorize. A door is opened somewhere in the cave-building that had kept the monster trapped, and the front door to outside is also opened. The “monster” leaves on its own accord after randomly wandering through various rooms to find its way out. It looks like an ordinary warthog as it passively walks out the main entrance. There is no threat or drama or concern of any kind at all at this point.

Later, I go to another building (part of the same settlement) and wander through the halls. I warily notice an unusual lump and weight pulling down the skin of my left forearm as well as minor burns and scabs. I realize I have something inside my arm. I carefully shuffle the hard object forward and out through the scar on my wrist (from my accident as a toddler) and it is a rectangular piece of thin metal, almost as wide as my wrist. Another similar object comes out after, which is like partly reflective glass of a similar size and shape (possibly part of a small mirror). The sensations and progressive movement are extraordinary “realistic” (though possibly more like pushing something under a shirt sleeve out through the cuff as I do not feel much pain). I feel my arm to make sure no other objects are in it. I “realize” that this probably happened when I was sleeping on a bed full of junk and the objects somehow got into my arm without me noticing until now (which is of course, a false memory as I do not sleep on a bed full of metallic junk, sharp objects, and wires as implied).



I go back and give the objects (and a few other bits of junk I found in the building) to the leader of the settlement (who seems to be actor Clancy Brown). At this point I tell him how the objects perhaps grew inside me somehow with regard to chemicals in the air, perhaps. He seems only mildly interested in the event but still wants everything I have. As we walk through a doorway back into the building (no longer with cave features) I had been staying in, I see two fancy car keys lying on the floor just inside the doorway with some apparently discarded documents. They have an atypical appearance; other than somewhat floral regarding the shape on one end, very slightly paperclip-like in part of the form only. I consider that if I pick them up and keep them for myself, the leader might not like it when he finds out, so I point them out saying, “look at those keys”. The leader says, rather egotistically, “I’ll just take these keys”. His behavior brings mild amusement. He then asks me what year they are from as if that is important and I say “1961” but then consider that “1961” might actually be a serial number unrelated to the date (though do not mention this). (The imagery is curious, as the number looks the same right-side-up as it does upside-down.)

In the final scene, I am sitting in a hall with several others of various ages. One (unknown) teenage girl in the opposite corner (opposite an implied perpendicular continuation of the hall) starts complaining about everything in a pessimistic and defeatist rant, and, even though there are only about a hundred people left on the planet, I tell her that I do not want to listen to her “f–ked up fantasies” (in the sense that they are negative and of no use, including trivial gossip and pointless opinions of others in the hall). From here, I feel cheerful and completely optimistic and ignore her otherwise depressing prattle, especially as I get the impression there will be a self-sustaining community expanding soon.

Morning of August 11, 2015. Tuesday.



James Miller comes to my attention; weary and barely there and dressed as Will Robinson, he seems to want to ask me something. Perhaps about ten feet away or more in a half-rendered version of my computer room (though seemingly mirrored longways right to left), he mainly appears as he did in perhaps 1975 (rather than 1977). I feel that he wants to ask me the time. However, pitifully, he cannot even communicate or relate coherently, which I suspect is frustrating him. Instead of asking “Time?” it comes out (quite weakly) something like “Sah-hime?” I suspect that anything he ever manages to say will only sound a little like English, though mostly gibberish.

Manny C comes in as the robot from “Lost in Space” (though somewhat different in design). She is thinner, though; the upper and lower sections of her robot body slowly pumping up and down (synchronized to her forward movement), arms randomly moving about, though head perfectly rotating ninety degrees to left and right.

She pulls James out of the half-rendered setting, back into the red-toned darkness.

Like a robot vacuum cleaner. I suppose.

Morning of August 10, 2015. Monday.



There really is not that much to this one. For some reason, planet Earth seems a lot smaller and almost like a spaceship. There is some sort of event that may destroy the “world” and only about thirty people are able to escape in their own family escape pod, each of which holds a few people in a family (though with a larger family such as mine, there are two, which are connected and maintain the same orbit).

Finally, the last pieces of the planet (only a few, as the planet seemed quite small to begin with) are floating about in the center of a circle of escape pods. There are probably only about a dozen.

Regardless of the “end of the world” scenario, there seems to be no real concern about endangerment. We may be in our pods for a considerable time, though will still find new life on another planet. The feeling of being in outer space in such a structure seems quite real. Oddly, there seems no concern about food supplies or needed utilities. In the back of my mind, I am thinking, as always, it will turn out as how it should.

Morning of January 30, 2015. Friday.



Ice is sometimes a positive (even blissful) presence in my dreams though in this case, it is like a destructive entity and actually seems to have “intent”. It is possibly some sort of alien “infusion” into the nature of ice, where it seeks out people and grows in a similar manner as the “creature” in the movie “The Blob”, except that it is not mobile.

I belong to a military group that rescues people from certain locations.

My weapon? A small transparent squirt gun. As hilarious as that sounds, and as questionable as the symbolism can be, it is me being a hero in the various scenes. I fill it up a few times when the water runs out, though the water does come out with great force and lasts a lot longer than would be possible for that size in reality (and so it goes).

We go into what is mostly like a shopping mall during one scene but with more restaurants in one area. The ice is growing near one restaurant and people are told to evacuate. Several times in these types of scenes, I am able to use the squirt gun to “kill” (or at least melt) some of the dangerously spreading “living” ice. My gun is not as big as the team leader’s weapon, but that is to be expected. I seem to be wearing khaki skydiving gear at one point though the team leader is in darker green. At various stages, several people look at me with great respect as I save their lives by using my squirt gun (quite possibly the silliest thing I have ever written regarding dream events).

I am not sure of the direction we are going in; it is possibly south relative to where I live in reality (in orientation based on how I am sleeping), which makes sense due to being in Australia and thus moving towards Antarctica to stop any potential new growth of the particular type of ice. However, there is a very large mound of dirt blocking our way at one point and there is apparently a dam west of it. This dam remains unseen, though. At this time, I can hear my mother-in-law yelling (but cannot see her) about random negative nonsense, including something about her last husband. I certainly do not want to go in that direction (and thus possibly see her) so instead, I move back towards the east area of the hill. I can still hear her hollering in her sociopath rants as I walk primarily northeast with two of my wife Zsuzsanna’s siblings (George and Judy).

The nature of my dream changes. I no longer seem to be in the military’s ice-hunting group. I am just enjoying my walk past interesting buildings in an unknown neighborhood, now mostly walking back north (possibly going back home). My dream then takes on a sort of artificial “jerky” feel as we are walking; like watching a movie with too low of a frame-rate. George calls me by a wrong name (which may be “Clarity”, which is similar to part of my middle name). I do not say anything when he does this.

---

Morning of January 14, 2015. Wednesday.



My dream involves a “Star Trek” novel, printed by hand in ink on Post-it notes. The notes are in a large pile, mostly in order at first. About three-quarters of the way through, the pages seem out of order and the last section seems flipped around.

The story comes to life, both on a television in an unknown room I am in and sometimes with me at the scene of the story as an interactive “movie” for shorter periods. I see a small poster or page from an unknown magazine of a young William Shatner which reads “Trek Star”. At first, the letters in the title seem ambiguous or intentionally displaying different words (probably “Tek War” a series of science-fiction novels created by William Shatner, ghost-written by Ron Goulart). Also, it seems like the story is supposed to be “disguised” so that people will not realize at first that it is a “Star Trek” story, though the “Trek Star” title is a rather obvious clue that it is. I see Christopher Lloyd as a Klingon at one point. I hear the name “Kirk” (though not “captain”) fairly often as if that is supposed to be another clue before it is more clearly a “Star Trek” story.

One scene where I seem to actually be present relates to an event where Kirk is on a planet and has dealings with a few Freakies (from Freakies Cereal) who are trying to help him in what seems like a possible court martial, though it looks like a normal courtroom at one point. Kirk mentions how the Freakies were not members of his crew though they seem to think they are honorary members, which is why they want to help him. The story is not that clear. It may be that the Klingons have invaded the Freakies home world.

It eventually becomes tedious to read each paragraph on each separate Post-it note (though reading in dreams is often difficult, as the writing typically changes when looking back at it). I am not sure where the stack of Post-it notes came from. When I get three-quarters in as mentioned earlier, some of the pages are also either blank or very slightly reflective bronze-colored on one side. I start to look through the rest of them but my dream loses cohesion at this point. I do carefully flip each page over onto the ones in the pile already read, which remains on the floor for the most part, though I sometimes pick it up. The remaining pages are in my left hand.

---

Morning of October 3, 2014. Friday.



I am living in a very large castle that, in some ways, is somewhat like the inside of a modern shopping mall in layout, though also has features of a boarding house (though more expansive). I am not sure of my place in this gated society. I walk around the environment without incident for a time. Assuming the orientation is relative to my present home’s (though there is no technical reason why it should be) it is longer from west to east and with a wide hall (west assumed to be the front though I am not outside of that area).

There seems to be the memory of a girl in my care. She is eleven years old and with dark hair and green eyes and is seemingly a young version of my wife (even though I seem more of a step father here). I become aware of this when she is ready to leave in a car (on the east end) to go to a party with several other people. This seems to be some sort of party representing finality of something (such as the last day of a school year). She is wearing an elaborate light blue gown. There are at least two well-known celebrities in the car who I think are female pop stars though there are males as well. I have concern for her safety and tell her to get out of the car and to come back into the castle. This concern is based on awareness of mainstream pop culture (and my total dislike of it) and “knowing” that drugs or alcohol may be freely available at the other location (though later, the location actually seems to be another part of the same castle - unless they visited elsewhere before coming to a different area of the castle to party).

At first she seems slightly confused and a bit annoyed, but becomes more “stable” as well as passive in my decision. From here, I go around “telling people off” about their attempt to destroy the child’s soul and natural (or instinctive) self-governance regarding right and wrong (also relative to possibly latent divine abilities such as healing and precognition). Although I take full control at this point, I am not lucid in any way.

One of the people I “tell off” about the event seems to be her birth mother (though I do not recognize her - though I do say her name which I have forgotten, though I think it may be Gretchen), who is being kept in a holding cell (unsure of the crime she is there for) that is not that secure and with at least three other females around her age lounging about on the floor. It is very similar to a low-fenced rectangular area where people pay a small fee to feed smaller animals during some expos and it is out from the middle of one wall in a much larger room. A bit of hay is on the floor for bedding. She seems angry that I have done this but I am not impressed at all by her supposed reasoning which seems shared by many - “fun at all costs” and subjecting oneself to endless passive entertainment like a slow death. I ask her if she is okay and she makes a remark about two male drunks having disturbed her sleep the previous evening by yelling randomly around 3 am when walking down the street (from the southeast). It does not concern me as they were not a threat to the security of the castle (or gated city) at any point.

Over time, I begin to single out and eliminate the people associated with pop culture or erroneous beliefs (not through any type of violence but by spurring the castle’s seemingly ruling “public” into proper action and the removal of the offenders). A few people deny the charges and hide in their quarters for the duration but I know they will be gone soon, which means all undesirable music of particular defeatist phrasing types will no longer be extant in the entire region.

In a northeast section of the castle I use some sort of advanced testing equipment in the location where the party had taken place. It is some sort of powder with fluid-like properties (depending on what it falls on) made up of nanomachines. When most of the target is covered it creates a virtual monitor on all the surfaces with a report of the findings (down to the molecular structure). I try it on the stove they were to use at the party and all the sides then have many flashing instances of the word “warning” in red, white, and black; equidistant columns and rows by about three inches or so over the appliance. There is also a sort of buzzing alarm-like sound from somewhere (apparently a temporary virtual speaker formed by the nanomachines). The warning relates to both an illicit drug having been in contact with the oven as well as a poisonous chemical (associated with oven cleaner). This is only some of the evidence I will be gathering to oust all those I do not favor. I will be able to go over the whole castle and “recreate” it accordingly. “Invisible” (microscopic) nanomachines that clean or refurbish features of the in-dream environment (only the man-made ones) have been occurring more and more in my dreams since the beginning of the year. However, they serve a very similar function of where in-dream “magic” or mental focus have been used in the past.

Near the ending, the girl thanks me for my interest in her survival and development and speaks and acts with sincere and devoting mien and is now solely a faithful obsequious ally, it seems.

I am also considering if this is a “healing power” to “healing powder” transference (concerning ambiguity of my dream self’s faux memory) in recent dream trends due to liminal accidental “dream universe rewiring” in long-term meditation (due to the audio similarity of “power” and “powder” - as the nanomachines maintain a powder form with additional fluid or mist properties for the most part).

Aspects of this very loosely seem influenced by episode #01.03 and #01.04 of “Survivors” (2010), seen the night before. However, this general theme has been recurring since earliest memory in various ways.

Morning of September 26, 2014. Friday.



I am planning (in my dream state) on doing a “comic book page” of the most vivid version of my “The Pink Planet” dream due to its seemingly paranormal nature (relative to a number of things that are simply too complex to get into in writing). The concept of the “twin Earth” is not unique to this particular “dream universe” event, as it had come both long before and long after November 6, 1971. In one case, it was a “shadow planet” remaining on the opposite side of the sun. Taking a photograph of someone with green eyes (my wife has green eyes) and implementing the photographic negative, will cause the “pink planet” effect as well.

I have completed the page in real life, after this dream, and decided to put it in my tumblr journal assuming it will be large enough to display the writing. In my dream, are new facets of energy relating to a “remake”. The remake is based on some sort of overwhelming emotional nostalgia combining the present and the past. In “The Bermuda Depths” (which ties in with personal events and other connections), the ending shows the turtle that was small during the time that the male and female characters are together as children, except now it is a giant yet still has the initials on its back. In this dream, I see that my wife, as a child, is blowing soap bubbles into the sky, one lasting longer than would be typical - the surface of the bubble reflecting Australia as it travels skyward. It grows larger and larger and “returns” as the “pink planet”, still with the residual reflection of Australia to “inform” me that she is on “the other side”.

This layer was not extensively referenced in 1971 or earlier. I have done a lot of research on causal patterns relating to my main “pink planet” dream. Doing this sort of thing is almost like a sort of meticulous “surgery” to try to piece together how my mind is able to combine so many layers into one to manifest this type of dream. Much of this I have documented before many times. One reason is that certain dreams have earlier “prototypes”, become the main experiential dream in terms of residual focus to recur or “reset” (often in “mid-dream”), and are often followed by a lesser “sequel” or with partial parallels (especially when growing up), sometimes broken up into less noticed nuances a year or more later. It would not surprise me at all to learn if some people had the same “key” dreams, thousands of times, throughout all their lives, without remembering a single instance of the more important layers. In fact, I have actually seen plenty of evidence of this online, but will not go into it here.

Firstly, this was during the time when “Pepto-Bismol pink” showed up in my dreams at least once a month or so - and in such cases, I even curiously reflected on this as the color in-dream, yet it still did not result in any trigger of lucidity. As before, I can argue whether or not my dream would have been the same had I not taken Pepto-Bismol. I also believe there was an influence from volume 16 of the Young People’s Science Encyclopedia which I had at the time. The cover shows pink clouds with a man hovering over a sphere and another one shown in the distance as shown in the image of the cover.



Comic strips the eve before personally showed the usual odd synchronicity. Nancy “blows her breath” into a balloon to (sarcastically) “save her breath”, which is shown as a sphere, an act similar to blowing soap bubbles as in my dream. The other is Snuffy Smith where the two primary female characters look at a crystal ball covered with snow - this of course influencing the idea of the top being the “North Pole” were it to be a subtle symbol for Earth.

Finally, as the most obvious cause in 1971 (at least on this date) was that I had seen “When Worlds Collide” (from 1951) 11:30 at night (on “Shock Theatre” on channel 13). I then watched about seven minutes of “I Walked with a Zombie” (from 1943), the second feature, but was too tired to stay awake and had already seen it a couple times by then. My 1971 dream likely started from around four in the morning at the latest, three-thirty at the earliest.

Were it not for pop culture continuously shuffling me along and giving me “clues”, I may likely have still found my soulmate. The amusing “go to Japan” in-dream aspect as mentioned before, again was accurate, as that is where the airplane landed prior to reaching Australia, something I do not think I could have even subliminally known as a child.

Morning of October 17, 2013. Thursday.



This was a new, rather sparse and non-eventful dream with little emotion. It seems to be on a distant planet which had recently changed governments, somewhat like part of a “hand-me-down” tradition. There is one scene in a large room where I watch others carving small statues that are all the same basic design. The design is much like the one in the image - of a male in a kowtow position on a small, thin base.

Each member of the group (mostly males of a few different age ranges) is working only on their own small statue (most of them are finished), each person in a sitting position on the floor, being part of a precise grouping of about five rows and columns in the larger room, which has no furniture. There does seem to be something resembling a business office setup on the opposite side of the room.

One person, instead of making the kowtow statue, has instead made what appears to be the Chacmool. Another person is scolding him saying that he has made it wrongly and needs to fix it (without starting over). The person is saying that the statue’s head must be down (and implying the eyes are mostly looking down) so that he “doesn’t see the bus coming” (?) - but the whole statue is “wrong-side up”, so it will probably be very difficult to “fix”.

Later on, it still is not right, and the man is lectured again. It looks as if he may never get it right and the final group project will have one major flaw - unique to the particular government? It is wrong to show one’s eyes directly in public, it is explained. The man does not seem all that upset or annoyed by having done the job incorrectly.

Later on, there is other art and sculpture being done. The floor has a thin surface in one part, or some sort of very thin slate “veneer”, almost paper-thin. One unknown female watches me closely, but I believe my mother is also there on the opposite side of the area. I only have a pencil but somehow manage to do a light rubbing of the entire area of the “floor” in a short time (which “reacts” somewhat like tracing paper to the movements of the pencil - which I hold at about thirty degrees as I do the rubbing), and as I am doing this, I say “I can automatically bring out an image in this way” (or saying something very similar).

When I am finished, it is an actual simple drawing or sketch of a woman facing the viewer, the face being the most defined. The person that had been watching is unsure what to believe even though she had been there the whole time (even asking me if I had done it with the pencil, etc.), as if she is, in a subtle way, questioning what had just happened regarding my “magical” ability. She seems a bit puzzled, unresolved, not in complete denial (but “ungrounded”), just unsure of the experience in seeing something unexplained unfold, somewhat of the same reaction I have seen hundreds of times in real life with other things, such as real-time and more detailed precognition validation. It is, in fact, seemingly one of the more outstanding traits of “normal” humans, bordering on the threshold of the more extreme short-term amnesia I have also seen quite often.

Links:

Chacmool

Kowtow

Morning of September 10, 2007. Monday.



There is a building that is somehow on the edge of another dimension or mind (or someone else’s “mental universe”). We are renting the place and live here as a family, but it seems a bit too small at times, and also, it is as if we may be moving soon. Someone I do not know, possibly the owner of the property, hands me a special drill that will go through the really tough wall on one side (which seems to be to the north) so that I can look directly into this other dimension or mind (apparently in case someone is planning to do something wrong to my family or me). The drill looks like some sort of odd combination of the handles of a bicycle, an egg beater, and a modern electric drill.

However, both the drill bits (there are two, which form a sort of binocular-like set-up) and the wall seem to be made of some sort of odd, but tough material that is similar to plastic, but yet not plastic. The resulting holes are perfect for a pair of human eyes to then look through.

There is this idea that I would then be looking out from this dimension (or “my world”) into another dimension or alternate world as a character in someone else’s dream (but would have no control of that character, just supposedly somehow seeing from their eyes from my own perspective and “world”, the view of the other world adjusting with no movement required on my part). This seemed quite vivid. Even so, I do not observe much. I mostly view what seems to be ordinary human beings walking about in the distance. There is not the slightest feeling of being a voyeur at any point, probably because another level of my awareness somehow knows I am dreaming.

---