Blue_Opossum

Morning of July 25, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,846-05. Reading time: 1 min 20 sec.



In the morning, Zsuzsanna received a message about a contest from an unknown sender, but I am wary. Although it seems like a legitimate competition at first, it turns out that a gangster had buried a jewelry box near our house (that in my dream is first a variation of the Loomis Street house and near the southwest corner, though the sidewalk is not present.)

Eventually, several unfamiliar men are near our house. They look for their buried jewelry box for the valuable items inside. I see them as intruders and realize at this point that it is not a legitimate contest, but that unknown men were using an area of our yard to hide their loot from other criminals.

I hit two of them with shovels, but I think they might have guns. I want to protect my family, but there is no logic in not letting them get what they want and leave without bothering us, so I wait. My family remains inside our house during this time. Eventually, the gangsters are no longer present.

Our house changes into a version of our present home. Two female police officers are in our kitchen. Each of them is wearing a blue bikini and a black trench coat, which makes me think they may not be real police officers.

I go outside to see them digging in two areas of our backyard. There is a police car parked there, and that could mean they are real police officers. I ask them if they are real cops. One of them looks at me with an annoying glance, saying that people only use the word “cop” on the Internet. I remain unsure if they are real officers, but I slowly wake as it now seems as if they are gardening rather than looking for loot.

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When I was in middle school, a female bus driver, as my schoolmates were boarding, was angry upon hearing someone say “cop.” She said people should not say “cop,” because it was disrespectful.

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Morning of December 15, 2017. Friday.

Dream #: 18,624-02. 3 min 20 sec read.



Cubitis (irrelevant since 1978) is the first location of my dream, but snow and ice cover my Cubitis home's front yard. My dream self does not hold a recognition of this place, and snow and ice would have never been a feature. Cubitis occurs as an incidental setting rather than having associations with my childhood and teenage years.

I am vaguely aware of my conscious self's identity but not my current address or status. I am involved in a treasure hunt but not as a recognized participant. Laverne and Shirley, as the television characters from the original series, are key participants.

A vivid segment occurs with a life-size version of the Matchbox car Alvis Stalwart BP Exploration Vehicle. It approaches from the northwest and is functioning as a snowplow. It is nighttime. I am amazed by its size and power, though I am unsure who is driving it. (I know they are one of the treasure hunt participants.) The loud yet soothing noise it makes is vivid. I know I have to get to where the treasure might be before it catches up, though I am only walking fast. Despite the snow and ice, I do not feel cold. I walk briskly through an area toward the south, south of the front yard of the Cubitis house, and the headlights of the vehicle shine on me twice. I try to dodge their beam, yet I feel little concern. (This is a factor of being vaguely aware of daybreak and not wanting to wake yet.)

Eventually, although I am still outside, I arrive at a place that looks like a large hall of a house, though the implication is that it is an outside area. (Using a real-life comparison, it is about where the south neighbor's carport would have been.) I notice fast-food wrappers and some papers amidst piles of books and other items to my left. Laverne and Shirley seem confident about finding the treasure at this point. There may be a letter from someone, or another clue, revealing where it is.

I realize we are nearing the end of the area designated as part of the treasure hunt. I wonder if the exploration vehicle is still somewhere nearby. My dream's setting, which is still part of the outside treasure hunt, is now a bedroom, with at least one wall and part of the ceiling missing.

Laverne and Shirley become annoyed that the treasure may not exist. However, I soon notice an A4-size transparent plastic envelope that is full of shiny gold coins. It is vertically upright and pressed against the south wall just behind some other items. They look like Australian two-dollar coins, but I know they are twenty-dollar coins. Laverne and Shirley are sitting on the bed at this point. I give it to Laverne and soon notice another container of more gold coins. It resembles an A4-size plastic box that we keep documents in, though this one is more transparent. I ask Laverne if I can have some of them, not considering that they should all be mine, as I am the one who found them. She cheerfully agrees I should have some of them. I awake while looking at the supposed twenty-dollar coins sliding out of the first container onto the center of the bed, ready to be counted. (The bed's orientation is from east to west. Its association with where it would be in the setting from where my dream started is unknown.)

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The "Laverne & Shirley" influence is mainly a metacognitive association with dreaming from hearing the opening theme song so often. It mostly corresponds with the lyrical line, "got a dream and we just know now." "Reaching a bed" has been a fundamental ending to my dreams since childhood, for the self-evident reason I am a metacognitive dreamer.

Coins have often featured in my dreams since childhood, from summoning somatosensory dynamics. (It is from wanting to enhance or stabilize my sense of touch while in the dream state, but I also had a silly belief when I was very young that I could pull a coin from out of the dream state). Noticing the sense of touch is one dynamic when emerging from REM atonia.

The ambiguity of dream settings and their countless composites of unrelated locations, their continually transforming attribute, and consciously unresolvable indoor-outdoor ambiguity (perception of being in an indoor and outdoor area simultaneously), and partial renderings in otherwise undefined space, is wholly unlike waking life or any factor of reality or memory.

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The Matchbox car I dreamt of yesterday (the flatbed truck with a house on the back, listed as "Truck with Site Office," though there were two in that dream of different colors), and the Matchbox car appearing here as a life-size vehicle (listed as "Alvis Stalwart" BP Exploration Vehicle), are number 60 and 61 (appearing in my dreams on consecutive days). The sequence may be coincidental or residual thoughts of a dreaming experience from the previous day, integrating into a new dream.

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Morning of July 6, 2017. Thursday.

Dream #: 18,462-05. Reading time: 1 min 52 sec.



I am on a pirate ship. There is a cheerful mood. As time passes, there is evidence of a treasure chest at the bottom of the ocean. One man finds a note with instructions from a pirate who had died years ago. On it, with the latitude and longitude of the marker’s location, it specifies what time to retrieve the chest, implying any other time might result in the treasure being lost or resulting in a threat.

The ship sails to the location the lost treasure supposedly is. There is a marker floating on the ocean’s surface. Someone pulls the rope that has its other end tied to the treasure chest below. Briefly, I consider, if the timing is wrong, there might be a sea monster or gigantic fish on the other end of the rope, but this does not occur. For a time, I see an underwater view as one of the pirates pulls up what first seems to be a small but weighty chest.

I watch the chest coming up out of the mud on the ocean’s bottom. Close to where the rope connects to the chest, I see the remains of a human arm entangled in it. This arm is tossed aside without concern when bringing the chest aboard.

After the chest is on the ship in the center of a large cabin, about five or six pirates remain nearby. At this time, there is a bilocation of being in the kitchen of our present house.

The captain opens the treasure chest, and at first, there appear to be piles of gold and silver coins as well as jewelry. He takes out some of the coins, which seem stuck together. He gives a few pieces to a few different pirates, though I get the impression it is not an equal division. They may work out how much each man receives later.

One of the pirates snaps his horizontal cluster of fused supposed gold coins in half. It turns out to be fake and made of plaster. Another pirate does the same with the silver coins. The mood changes to disappointment, but the outcome does not seem that important.

I approach the chest and find a hidden compartment under a false bottom. There is anticipation amidst the group of perhaps there being a treasure underneath. I lift it to see several brochures for a modern casino. There are also three notes of foreign currency (possibly Indonesian) as a gift to use in the casino. The situation results in amusement.

I carry the bills in what is now the kitchen of our present home (without my dream self recognizing it as such) as I walk towards our back door. The pirates are still with me.

“It’s three dollars,” I say. There is a sense of amusement rather than disappointment.

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Morning of February 6, 2015. Friday.



I am swimming underwater in the ocean, in an area between Antarctica and Australia. However, the map I view at a few different later occasions in-dream is incorrect. Relative to Antarctica, it has Australia in the same general location as where the bottom of South America would be in reality (rather than the other side). This incorrect concept and related vivid imagery does not trigger any thoughts of error at all. The map’s location is not defined; it is more like a dream within a dream that I mentally visit for some reason, though looking somewhat like a computer monitor. I am looking for millions of dollars in old coins at the bottom of the ocean. It actually seems like I am only about twelve or so feet underwater at the most. Most of the ocean bottom is white sand and light-colored rock.

There are pirates rather loosely involved in the plot, but there is no conflict and the group only appears a bit later. However, there is one male who is tied to a weight or underwater object in a way where his head is just able to remain above the water. This seems like some sort of punishment (I am not sure if they are intending to come back for him). I try to help him while I maneuver in a small boat but am unable to.

It is quite enjoyable exploring the underwater realm. I am still able to breathe somehow, without any gear. I find everything from fairly modern pennies to Spanish Doubloons, which I hold in my hands at times, some of the coin types being in clusters on their own in certain areas. I am “collecting” the coins and occasionally other items, which also apparently end up in an undefined additional realm, like some sort of abstract “pocket” location somewhere. (I do not see them again after I “collect” them - I am apparently teleporting them to a safe location where I live.)

At one point, another male swims with me. I think he is the captain of a ship but I am not sure of his identity or whether or not he is actually a pirate. He may actually be connected to the British Navy. At any rate, he seems to have only mild interest in the treasures on the ocean bottom though I do have a vague sense that others may be exploring the area and taking coins and such in a day or so. I want to find as many as possible before others arrive.

There is one smaller cluster of about five silver coins that are actually fake Spanish Doubloons. Several real Lincoln pennies are also closely scattered in the same area with various levels of brighter shininess down to dull coppery matte. The other male does not seem impressed by the cheap replica coins and I feel slightly embarrassed when I pick them up to show him. He seems to want to focus on these rather than nearby very valuable coins.

Other than various types of coins, there are also old pocket watches here and there (association with time being valuable, making sense of time, or time in investigating dreams being valuable - being underwater represents exploring the deeper levels of the self).

I am not sure if the submerged man is going to be freed (he possibly represents everyman or how I see everyman), but I greatly enjoy exploring the ocean floor. Oddly however, I do not notice any fish or aquatic plants at any point.