Blue_Opossum

Morning of June 1, 1998. Monday.

Reading time: 1 min 52 sec. Readability score: 52.



Deliberately stepping into the dream space, I find it is a comfortably dark room that has walls, floor, and ceiling of gray stone. I am unaware of the presence of a door or doorway.

What I first think is an Egyptian sarcophagus is present in the center of the room. It is mainly rectangular and lacking detail. In semi-lucidity, I realize it is a representation of the fact that I am asleep in bed.

Moving closer, I see that the lid of the sarcophagus is like a stained glass window of a Christian church, although it portrays an unknown British king rather than a religious scene, the imagery of which resembles the king of diamonds in a deck of cards. A yellow light is discernible from under, shining through its semi-transparent sections despite the multi-colored stained glass, and I fall into it (deliberately, leaning forward) without fear, cracking it open and immediately being “back” in bed.

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Explanatory notes on dream modeling and processing:

My physical body is asleep in bed, not moving, and that is the foundation (and trigger) of the rendering of the sarcophagus. I am aware of the cause while in my dream aside from the fact its foundation is semi-lucidly scripted. (In “Stargate,” the sarcophagus is used to restore the physical body to full health and that was my original intent here.) The details mainly stem from associations with two Alan Parsons Project albums, “Pyramid” and “Turn of a Friendly Card.” (On the cover of “Pyramid,” Alan Parsons is sitting up in bed in a room with an orange and yellow glow. “Turn of a Friendly Card” features the king of diamonds in stained glass.)

The color yellow is a factor I have used all my life (in both infra-awareness and lucidity) to initiate emerging consciousness and dream state revivification. It is not a factor of absolute dream control in every case (only RAS mediation, which is unpredictable due to ultradian rhythm peaks and lows) and is typically more likely to bring about waking and preconscious manifestation than intended reinduction.

Deliberately leaning and falling forward, or jumping from a window or cliff is a method I have used since childhood to intensify and sustain a dream, though it does not always work as it occasionally triggers VSC RAS modulation. In contrast, the breaking window is a metaphor for dream state cessation as in the 1971 TV movie, “The Deadly Dream.”

Notes added Friday, 17 August 2018. As of this date, creating a large locked steel bank vault door that replaces the front door of a house, and rapidly flying towards it from a bedroom (to phase through it into whatever is beyond in the front yard) with total faith and confidence, is the most viable way I have found to vivify and sustain the dream state.

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Morning of August 29, 2016. Monday.



My dream curiously starts out at the King Street boarding house (where I have not been since the early 1990s). I do have some memories of my present life status but it is distorted and also changes before my dream ends. I start mowing the lawn, but oddly, for whatever indeterminable reason, continue to mow all the way to the north side of La Crosse via the causeway through the marsh (though which is more like normal land in my dream). I may in fact be working for the street department as I did in real life, though that was mostly for Onalaska.

I feel very happy and satisfied as I somehow walk all that way, while mowing yet, without getting tired, even somehow casually mowing over some rather large bushes with thick trunks. I feel a bit helpful for others in the area in doing this. Strangely, without even considering it odd or impossible, I end up at the corner of Hamilton Road and Stadcor Street in Wavell Heights (Brisbane, Australia), instead of where I should be, that is, George Street and Sill Street (Wisconsin, America).

On this composite corner of the two locations, where we never lived in reality (though we did live on Stadcor Street farther down from Hamilton Road), there is another version of my family, though I am somewhat confused about it as I am also there (rather - “another me”). My “other” son Lorenzo, a child of the “other” us, is playing near the street. About four police officers are near our front entrance talking with the “other” us. Our house resembles a composite of our present home, the Stadcor Street house, and the Barolin Street house. They apparently had brought Lorenzo home after he had unknowingly wandered off. I start to mow “our” front yard, but the officers remind me that my job is to only mow the public areas.

From here, I mow along what is either Stadcor Street or Sill Street but which ends in an area similar in appearance to where it would have begun near the George Street turn off, not at the end of the street on the other side. The particular corner lot also seems rotated ninety degrees north to east as well as duplicated to the north. This puzzles me quite a bit even though my memory of the composite could not be right anyway (due to the fact it is a composite and not a real layout). I am not sure where I should continue from here, though it is not quite a dead-end, as there may be an intersection that would imply either Corowa Street or Wood Street (though which would imply Loomis Street is “missing”).

As I continue to try to only now work out where I am, I notice a large unlikely feature in the center of the empty lot which now seems to be a park. It looks just like an old mausoleum. This gives me a very eerie sense of mortality and I am soon wary about where I am. Still, I consider that it may not actually be a mausoleum, as why would there only be one in the center of a public park?

Looking more closely, I see a large clock face over what would otherwise be the entrance, which seems like a miniature version of Big Ben. This slowly convinces me that it may not be a mausoleum (as why would a large clock face block a mausoleum entrance) but perhaps meant as a city tribute of some kind. I am still in awe over the very eerie and ancient-looking feature and I do not go any farther. (I do not recall the time that was on the clock as I did not note it while in my dream. It may have indicated the real time, though this is not certain).

Morning of January 20, 1996. Saturday.



There is a special temple which many people have visited once or twice and left gifts at, most of which are still sitting around, many unwrapped, including stuffed toys, bowls of food (such as strawberries), and what looks like wrapped Christmas presents. There is also a tomb fairly close to the temple. The tomb has supposedly not been entered for hundreds of years. It is really large and probably contains several bodies, even mummified ones, of saints, and supposedly even Christ, and there is also said to be the mummified body of the Virgin Mary inside a forecourt statue. There is also an area where there are five small holes somewhere on the outside wall of the tomb that looks just like the pattern of the five-spot on a die or domino. (An alternate occult, “secret” version of the Star of David points when the two triangles are moved apart from each other, and the mirrored - top to bottom - Mayan “22” symbol). However, this “five-spot” can somehow only be seen by looking through the hole of yet another building in the region, from a fair distance.

A “living” Virgin Mary statue is said to walk around each night (when the Mary mummy comes to life and energizes the statue from within into a “real” human form), but there is controversy, saying it is actually someone carrying the statue around for cleaning, repairs, or repainting each night. The main building’s street number is twenty-two something.

There is also a stray dog that is mistaken for the Virgin Mary statue being “alive” by somehow getting pieces of it stuck on him (apparently it was actually hollow) and people start saying prayers to the whimpering dog (no one notices the whimpering or asks why the Virgin Mary is “crawling”). There is also a part where the dog seems to have gotten parts of a griffin statue stuck on his head and body. He looks quite convincing as a griffin, but the Virgin Mary, not so much. A large bird tries to get at the dog, and the flapping wings make it look even more “real” and part of the one animal.

Eventually, I enter the tomb as a part of some sort of role in a documentary - I seem to be someone else, perhaps that guy that made all those ridiculous fake and highly misleading “Chariots of the Gods” books (Von Daniken). There is then an idea that it may not be the tomb of saints, but Satan’s prison instead (I guess people are vague on the matter as usual, as different people say different things regarding what they see). I do talk to a couple of people who seem to have been living in the tomb for some reason.

People need to be careful, because perhaps the “devil” could get out.

I then find out that drawers - supposedly with the ancient bodies (but like a modern morgue) can be accessed from the outside wall. It then becomes more like a post office on the outside with post office drawers - the kind normally opened with a key - but accessible by anyone.

It turns out that the ancient bodies and bones of saints (and Christ) are complete fabrication and misrepresented by a tourist brochure and hotel flyers; they are mostly just newer plastic white picnic forks and such, not bones, and I think other drawers are for large picnic blankets that visitors rent (which I think were listed as “holy shrouds” in one part of a brochure - the supposed “Shroud of Turin” has black and red modern plaid designs on it now).

I notice a young couple enjoying a wonderful picnic in the park and get a sense that religions are distractions from having a meaningful life “in the now”. There will probably be people in the future seeing the plastic white picnic forks as “bones”. Both the temple and the tomb turn out to be an illusion, and are only modern places for entertainment and recreation.

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This dream was quite bizarre, but I still enjoyed it, especially the blissful temple scenes, where it turns out to be a bandstand at a park (the presents being part of an ongoing larger neighborhood party), and the “tomb” some sort of storage area for picnic utensils and such as well as a combined post office and modern “local celebrities” museum after all. (The park seemed in part like Pettibone Park, so there could be a play on “petty bone”.) My dreams colored my mood in a positive enriching manner.

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What does it mean to dream of a griffin? At the core level, a griffin is a flight symbol. A flight symbol is rendered in a dream in subliminal anticipation of the hypnopompic waking start. Additionally, a griffin is a mix of unrelated animals, which is likely to be a unique precursor factor of the coalescence of the preconscious and emergent consciousness.

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Some of my other dreams that feature griffins (links): (1) Griffin vs. Grandfather Clock, (2) R Brand, (3) Malfunctioning Griffin Game, (4) Making a Griffin?

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Night of November 1, 1986. Saturday. (This would be a day after Halloween. Keep that in mind.)



Even though this dream seems primarily impersonal and I seem to be disembodied for the most part in the majority of the scenes, there is a sense of eeriness throughout (but no direct physical threat at any point). It mostly involves a colony of bats that are somewhat anthropomorphic and of which that in turn suggests a link to gargoyles to some extent. They mostly seem to come from a hidden underground area in a fictional cemetery in La Crosse. This fictional cemetery is northwest of my sister’s house on Loomis Street. This location superimposed in reality would possibly seem to occupy the parking lot in what is now the Coulee Montessori Charter School and part of Roosevelt Park.

There is an idea at one point that the bat-like creatures “escaped” from an unknown realm that people perhaps accidentally disturbed with mining activities.

At one point, I watch more than a dozen of the creatures fly out from a west-facing mausoleum (which, through extensive research, is very similar to an Oakwood one in Troy, New York). My dream takes on that eerie stop-motion animation artificial feel very similar to the original “Jason and the Argonauts” from 1963, a movie I saw a few times as a boy and which influenced many of my dreams over time, specifically, in this case, the very similar harpies. The mausoleum is vaguely reminiscent of the White House, which is a bit curious (and perhaps relevant) I think, though the columns could be modeled after the harpies scene in the aforementioned movie.

Again, I am not attacked or threatened but it seems there are other (unknown) people that are attacked and possibly killed during a picnic though I do not witness the events that closely or much gore.

This is partially like a typical movie-like dream where scenes change (or “jump cut”) completely every several minutes, but still with the overall similar bats theme and still within a non-varying dream awareness for the most part.

However, in one “reset” (where the awareness slightly increases), it actually seems as if I am one of the creatures or at least “in league” with them (which makes sense, as I, the dreamer, am their creator after all). At one point I get a very vague impression they may be robotic, but this is unlikely and my brief distorted impression as such was probably only caused by the odd stop-motion movement. There is no vampire association at any point, though there is a vague “church” association or feeling at one point, yet mostly undefined and unresolved.



Most dreams with more detail involving normal bats (and importantly, I stress “normal” here) and additional but unrelated events to the main bat theme are long-term precognitive in nature even over many years (such as regarding my extensively documented and researched “Patches” recurring dream series). This clarifies how bats represent “messengers” from the “caves” of the supraconscious, often in a positive sense or personally good outlook (only incidentally because one does not ordinarily attribute birds to exploring and dwelling in caves or dark recesses of metaphorical mysteries). People who do not know any better might associate with bats solely in a negative sense, and this example in turn was probably influenced by popular media and the popular symbols of Halloween, unfortunately (or fortunately if you like meandering “monster dreams” which are not intense enough to be nightmares or with any feasible personal symbolism).