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    1. A Train Becomes a Shed

      by , 09-13-2019 at 03:13 PM
      Morning of September 13, 2019. Friday.

      Dream #: 19,261-01. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



      I enter an instinctually motivated dreaming experience of watching a train in Brisbane in the late morning (anticipation of vestibular modulation). Several unknown people are present. Instead of boarding it, I continue to stand in the area and watch it leave.

      I decide I may get the train after all and manage to catch up when it makes a stop. The setting is now rural, and the train seems to have become a ramshackle shed. Welding sparks from an unseen welder scatter from beyond the other side of one corner to the right (neural synchrony).



      This dream stems from the same process as “Typewriter Train.” I was flying over a train that screeched and suddenly stopped. The front of the train was a giant black 1940s typewriter (potential cognitive arousal). The train had run out of track and dug slightly into the ground.

      Another version of the same process occurred in “Helicopter Digger.” While a friend and I were fishing, a helicopter came down, and its rotor blades dug into the ground.

      The first dream’s last scene is consciousness initiation and emerging from the dream state (neural synchrony in waking point modulation as emerging sparks as analogous with fire, lightning, and electricity).

      The second dream is vestibular modulation transitioning to potential cognitive arousal, but with the association of needing physicality to relay information (typewriter). (The mind and body must connect to wake and move.)

      The third dream is vestibular modulation transitioning to the anticipation (or desire) of returning to slow-wave sleep.


      Updated 09-16-2019 at 07:07 AM by 1390

      Tags: shed, train, welding
      Categories
      non-lucid
    2. Being a Helpful Witch

      by , 11-30-2017 at 05:30 PM
      Morning of November 30, 2017. Thursday.



      My dream occurs in two main parts. It has the usual distortions and absence of viable conscious self identity. The only conscious self threads relate to knowing I am married to Zsuzsanna. The rest of my dream self identity ambiguously perceives itself as a teenager, and my parents are still alive.

      In the first part of my dream, I am in the kitchen of our present address (erroneously perceived as of Cubitis, where I have not lived since 1978). The layout of the house is different. Zsuzsanna is present and we are rearranging everything (which we had been doing a lot in real life lately after the storm tore the roof from our house, though that memory is not extant in my dream). There are two special pictures that present a three-dimensional impression. One is very large and displays a two-storey house. The other is similar to the pattern of our present bedroom curtain but features only one cheetah.

      I marvel at the large image of the house and its three-dimensionality. (It faces north when aligned to our present home’s layout.) As I change my position in the room and move my head, there is vivid imagery that looks as if the Venetian blinds in the house are closing and opening, depending on where I stand, though this relates to the angle I am viewing the house from, not the blinds actually moving. At least one bright light is on inside the second floor of the residence where this intriguing Venetian blinds effect is seen, which involves at least three windows. There is a sense of both pleasure and awe. (The windows are about five inches high.) The joy I feel is probably based on liminal realization of modulating my dream with threads of my conscious self, yet my dream self not actively comprehending this factor.

      I am then looking at the image of a cheetah (about eight inches in length to start with). I am able to manipulate the image by moving parts of it with my fingers, to make it smaller or larger or change the proportions. It does not become distorted no matter how I move different points of the image. Its three-dimensionality is similar to one of those toddler’s board books with the additional features implied to be fur or other textures (such as “Touch and Feel Wild Animals”). The clusters of fur on the cheetah image growing and shrinking depending on how I alter the image with my fingers fascinates me.

      Later, I notice my father standing by the doorway of our shed (our present shed, not the one in Cubitis). He is dressed in an unusual colorful outfit and has a large white beard. I go out and see that he is trying to move several large parts of machinery, one that looks like a small motor. Not being lucid, I still use a type of telekinesis. I am aware that the combined weight of the objects is quite heavy, yet I touch one (the smallest object) and all the other objects connect to it as if magnetic. I effortlessly lift everything and my father seems grateful. I realize that this means I am a witch. I place them out in the backyard through a fictional doorway on the east end of our shed.

      From here, there is an incorporeal and unseen male character that is somehow only partially present. There is brief talk with him about a fairy being a great wizard. My father walks to the west end of our shed (where the main door pulls up in reality). It is open to the street. There are at least two black horses facing north that I lightly pet. My father expresses no distrust or wariness of me being a witch.



      A shed or warehouse represents liminal space during the waking transition in a specific part of the sleeping period and is a factor of memory recall and storage. Horses as this dream’s end marker represent my “return” to my physical body in waking. The health or condition of a horse often relates to the health of one’s physical body or recent mental states (or that of someone known). (For example, after a classmate died, I had a terrifying dream of a horse falling down and suffocating in front of me, after it came through the doorway of our homeroom classroom, both a result of his death, and the unsteady state of my emotions at the time.)

      In one of my dreams of yesterday, I was a guardian angel “from the future”, helping a fictional character rendered as the actor Jonathan LaPaglia to fulfill his supposed destiny with his future wife. Then, in this one, I am a powerful witch helping my father. I manipulate imagery (though that was implied to be the nature of whatever technology was present) and effortlessly lift heavy objects by mental will (and not only do I lift them, they stick together magnetically in a very long cluster nearly as wide as the shed). There seems to be no difference between a powerful witch and an angel in some cases, at least from my dream self’s viewpoint. (My wife Zsuzsanna has appeared as both an angel and a witch in my dreams, including prescient dreams from before we met.)

      The Venetian blinds represent the virtual division between the dream self identity and the conscious self identity. The fact that I am not surprised by my telekinetic abilities validates liminal dream state awareness and liminal dream control (that is, with no realization it is a dream, yet having endless powers to create and control my dream state experiences). I certainly would not have this expectation or act as such when conscious.


      Updated 06-05-2018 at 04:16 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. Eryops

      by , 10-11-1978 at 04:11 PM
      Morning of October 11, 1968. Friday.



      Summary of meaning: In subliminal anticipation of the need to get up for school, my mind renders my mother (as parallel symbolism with my own inevitable emergent consciousness precursor) as a prehistoric amphibious creature and, with the aid of four older males, to be held on an island by building a shed (liminal space) around her. When she wakes, the shed explodes outwardly, as I am leaving the island (dream exit symbolism).



      A team of four unknown men, dressed as if on a safari (recurring dream character mode), probably in their thirties, seemingly with my help (even though I am only seven years old), trap an Eryops that had fallen asleep on a deserted isolated island (possibly near Florida or within the state of Florida in a very large lake as I do notice some palmettos) by somehow building a wooden shed around it while it is sleeping, yet the hammering apparently does not disturb its sleep at any point which is of course illogical. There is a very vague consideration that it may dig its way out as it is somewhat toad-like and toads do dig. However, when it eventually wakes up as we are preparing to leave the island, it is easily able to smash through with only a couple movements of its body and tail. I see boards flying out from the outer walls of the small building and feel a sense of awe and imminent danger. I watch the men leaving quickly in a rowboat (though I am not yet in it, though I seemingly soon teleport to it) as the creature is escaping but is not a direct threat as it remains where it is. It is facing the shore but facing to the right in my viewpoint. There is a sense of awe and unpleasant surprise but I have never classified this as a nightmare as I seem to only be observing this last scene without being directly present, becoming incorporeal at the waking point. (It was fairly common in my childhood dreams to become incorporeal in the final moments in eluding a possible threat, and as such, actual nightmares have been extremely rare throughout my life.)



      • This event of the prehistoric creature waking up as I am waking up (and it was my last dream of the morning prior to getting up) primarily renders the event as a very obvious waking metaphor, about as obvious as a basic dream meaning can be. Subliminally trying to prevent myself from waking (by preventing the creature from waking and escaping) did not work in this case, as biology is stronger than subliminal conscious will.
      • Last update on Sunday, 30 October 2016. I had not considered that the shed in this dream might be associated with a doghouse. I learned that I had read a Marmaduke panel on October 6, 1968 which featured the dog “digging a storm cellar” under his doghouse. Additionally, building a shed around the sleeping creature seems a possible analogy to building a doghouse in hopes to tame a beast. A year previously, when I lived at 611 North Monroe Street, I had been yelled at by an unknown man who told me to stay away from his puppy (who was always resting in his doghouse when I visited him near my own open yard). This upset me (especially as I had never seen him before even though he lived in the apartments on the other side of our yard).


      Updated 03-13-2020 at 04:36 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid , memorable