Blue_Opossum

Morning of February 23, 2018. Friday.



In the first part of my dream, I am sitting on the floor of the Gellibrand Street apartment’s porch. (We have not lived there in years.) I am looking through and reading some coupons relating to free offers. By writing down four letters which appear on the coupon, KLRS, and then the next letter after each, underneath, LMST, it somehow causes a package to be immediately sent to our front door, though I do not open it as I focus on the unusual nature of this puzzling technology. I begin to ponder on how the company would know what I wrote in a notebook in my own home.

I later write LMPR, and MNQS underneath. (Throughout my dream, I clearly read and write uppercase letters which remain the same, which is atypical of the dream state, as writing typically changes in many dreams when looking back at it again.) A handwritten message appears above the letters relating to the activation of a special offer. Similar events occur a few more times.

I begin to wonder more about how this is possible. The setting changes (without my dream self paying much attention) to an unfamiliar location. It is a large room with a table. Dennis (an older half-brother on my mother’s side ) is present. (I have not seen him in real life since 1994.)

I tell Dennis about the companies and clubs that somehow cause handwritten messages to appear in my notebook. I look through my notebook and, for a time, cannot find the evidence, though I eventually do and show him. One message is on what looks like black embossing tape with white letters. It easily comes off the page. Dennis is curious, but I consider he may not be convinced of this inexplicable technology.

“Watch this,” I tell him. Instead of getting a code from a coupon, I make up a sequence. I write NOPQ, but decide to change it to LMNR, as I consider the code would probably not have four letters in a row in alphabetical order as such, even though they are otherwise in an alphabetical sequence. I then write MNOS underneath. A handwritten message appears out of nowhere that displays something like, “Thank you for activating your membership.” I use NORS, OPST underneath, and a similar message appears. I ask Dennis, “How are they doing this?” He does not reply. I use MNOS a few times (with NOPT), each time on a different page, and the same message appears above what I had written, relating to benefits of membership activation, though I eventually get, “You have already activated your membership. Thanks for your participation.”

I start to consider that there may be hidden cameras everywhere. This seems to “explain” it, though I forget about the unlikelihood of writing appearing on paper from no discernible source.

I write MNOS again and NOPT underneath. A large moving image of a Doberman Pinscher’s head appears on the wall. It is as if a film is being shown; the aspect ratio is square. The dog is apparently barking, but there is no sound. I perceive this as some sort of function to express a warning about repeatedly using the same code to activate something that had already been activated. There is no sense of threat at any time or any genuine wariness. In fact, I find it somewhat amusing even if it is inexplicable.

Again, I ask Dennis, “How are they doing this?” There is now also an unfamiliar male in the room who I do not see as an imposer or related to the inexplicable events. I consider that he may be puzzled as well.

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Dreams are mainly ascending reticular activating system mediation (and modulation when the dream self by way of subliminal conscious self intent attempts to remain asleep) between transient dream self and whole conscious self identity, primarily being autosymbolism for consciousness reascension while subliminally exploring the dream state. Why so many people completely ignore this truth in favor of asinine pretense (often focusing on negative dynamics even where there are none) has baffled me since childhood. My development since early childhood, in understanding the dream state (and dismissing the tripe of books on the “meanings” of dreams while even marrying my literal “dream girl” in real life), has resulted in an extraordinary virtuous circle effect as seen in this dream, even though my dream self remains puzzled about the communication from my conscious self. Yes, that is what is happening. My conscious self is sending threads of communication (by way of the ECF, emergent consciousness factor, in RAS mediation) to my dream self to enhance skills which typically do not exist in the dream state (though some asinine individuals make the ridiculous claim that one cannot read in the dream state at all). It has nothing to do with “messages from the subconscious”, as my dream self IS the subconscious (and the subconscious is a dynamic band that has no viable temporality or consistent intelligence). Aside from that, only the conscious self has viable reasoning skills, including coherent perception of the written language, and yet here, my dream self maintains (again through the virtuous circle effect of having devoted much of my life to dream state study and enhancement of the dream state) some extent of control and feasible discernment regardless of not being viably lucid.

The dog in the final scene represents the obedience factor (as I have explained in my journal many times before) as well as this dream’s WAF (waking alert factor) by way of my subliminal attempt to sustain the dream state. The wall is a liminal space divider between dream self and conscious self identity. The (transpersonal) preconscious personification (the unfamiliar male in the room) remains passive in my dream self’s subliminal activity until I wake.

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Morning of December 20, 2017. Wednesday.



I am writing a booklet in my dream about a factor which has remained consistent since early childhood. It is called “The Roof Factor.” I am not lucid. In reality, I had thought about writing an entry on the concept. I focus on dreams about open ceilings and roof repair.

Before I was nine years old, I came to understand some dream features signified the level of consciousness. I noticed dreams featuring open ceilings were more likely to occur in a certain level of awareness, in a particular part of the sleep cycle, when my conscious self identity was present to a greater extent than in other dreams (more than when such as a porch is rendered to represent the waking space). Most open ceiling dreams feature my current address and most often have more common dream state indicators. (Most of my non-lucid dreams have less conscious self connections and distort in anachronistic composites of various places I have lived in the past). It validates a ceiling or roof as representing a specific level of consciousness in a similar way as a wall or fence in relating to liminal space division, though with viable threads of conscious self identity. That is even more so with dream state indicators such as beds in being potential exit points or focal points of emerging consciousness factors. (I do not typify a ceiling or roof as a dream state indicator, as it does not directly relate to bedrooms or beds).

I do a lot of writing and reading in my dream, going back over at least a dozen dreams with the roof factor. Eventually, I wake to feel vaguely annoyed at having “lost” all my writing. Experiencing a long dream while writing about them while not aware that I was dreaming was amusing and ironic.

There were more dream references here than in other dreams in recent memory. They had an interesting connection with the replacement of our roof in real life after the storm had torn it off over a month ago, which was the scariest event in our lives.

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Readability score: 61.

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Morning of April 1, 2017. Saturday.



This dream falls into a similar theme as a dream of September 2016 where whatever I write becomes part of my dream (rather than saying an affirmation to create dream scenes). Still, I never become lucid.

In one scene, my wife Zsuzsanna and I had been together for a year or more but, according to my dream’s backstory, we had not been married. I write a sentence that reads “Zsuzsanna and I have a legal marriage license”. I do some sort of hand motion over the writing, and then slap the wall (“Supernatural” television series influence, it seems). A sheet of paper that looks something like a certificate appears out of nowhere on a picnic table. It is apparently our marriage license. An unknown female claims it does not seem real, as certain writing on it is not raised (or embossed). However, looking at a real marriage certificate, it seems of the same (correct) design.

In another scene, an aircraft carrier moves towards a beach. It is tipped to one side and moves out and in with the waves for a time, lengthwise to the shore - the top facing towards land. It is vivid and dramatic but there is no threat to me. (It does not seem to be sinking.) Oddly, the airplanes do not move or slide off at any point. There is vague concern that one end or the other may cause damage to buildings near the shore, but this does not happen.

In another scene, I decide to eliminate a large portion of the world’s population. I make sure to include “except for me and my family”. I am outside at a picnic table and George C. Scott (October 18, 1927-September 22, 1999) approaches. I have not yet slapped my writing (which is on the surface of the picnic table) to instigate the event.

An unknown male is with George C. Scott and gives me advice on how to utilize my idea. I am to write that George is my uncle and that he will be going back in time to just before humans came to exist (though I am not at all aware of what the situation implies). The unknown male tells me that the name is written with two S’s, inferring that it is George C. Sscott, which does not seem right to me, but I write it anyway, though it still somehow comes out as “George C. Scott” and he complains about the spelling. I make a couple mistakes and have to write it again, one being “George S. Cott”, another being “George Scott”.

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Morning of September 5, 2016. Monday.



I find myself in an unusual balanced composite (more integrated than usual) of my Cubitis family home and the Barolin Street house (to where the Barolin Street house’s porch is integrated with my Cubitis bedroom in atypically smooth orientation). I have a large hardcover book which seems to be meant to be a notebook yet has the look of a novel.

I am aware that Godzilla is approaching from the west (Cubitis orientation) and will reach the house within a short time. I am clearly focused and write in the book how Godzilla will not damage the house and will pass by without destruction.

As I write with a pencil, more like making annotations above my previous writing at some points, I hear Godzilla approaching. Soon, he is somehow in the house but only about as tall as the ceiling. He does not bother me and instead, ducks down and goes through the doorway. He turns to the left and shuffles through another doorway after hunching down. No damage is done. I find this interesting but I also realize that he may come back in his full size and with a more monstrous presence depending on how I write the events in the book I have.

I get the sense of there being an island in the distance (northeasterly), which Godzilla will mostly destroy all the buildings on, yet I am not focused on the idea of a body of water separating it from the region where the house is. I write about how Godzilla will march in a rectangular path so that he will eventually come back from the same direction, but supposedly not near the house. I walk to an area that is like an underground cavern but still seems part of the house (and “actually” above ground). In Cubitis orientation, this cavern would open to the north and is probably analogous to the hallway of that house with a vague bilocation. An unknown dark-haired female approaches me from the mouth of the cave while holding a pillow horizontally (obvious dream sign) with a black gemstone with an emerald cut sitting horizontally on it. It is about six inches long. This character seems like an odd composite of Xena and Kira from “The Dark Crystal”. (There is an association with my wife Zsuzsanna here. Her middle name is Gabrielle, which is also Xena’s friend’s name. Kira is also the name of a “Star Trek: Deep Space Nine” character and “Star Trek” featured in another dream of today.)

She seems very concerned about the supposedly inevitable approach of Godzilla and yet is also wondering if the crystal should ever be used to control such creatures, as it is implied to be of great power and may fall into the wrong hands. She talks about hiding it instead, so that no one would ever be able to use it for anything.

“It doesn’t matter at all,” I say. “I can control everything in the universe with this book. In fact, I made everything in the universe.”

The girl eyes me curiously while seemingly dismissing that the crystal has any consequential aspect at all but seems puzzled and somewhat wary about being an entity I had created or she may be uncertain how I may shape events concerning Godzilla’s approach towards her people or alternate world. I wake before writing any more.

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This was interesting in that I had total control by what I wrote in the book yet was not even slightly lucid at any point. A book represents the nature of consciousness (or the transmuted conscious mind within the dream state) and the critical thinking skills on the conscious identity side of liminal space.

A pillow is an obvious dream sign, not at all a symbol, that is, a residual memory of having fallen asleep (as is a bed and being undressed in public). The crystal seems to symbolize focused lucidity here (as it is dark and sits on the pillow and thus is analogous to the sleeping mind), yet full dream control is still present without lucidity or even a greater perceptual clarity. As Kira has wings and is a muppet, this is an atypical form of the otherwise very common “return flight” waking metaphor which also reflects the artificial nature of the dream state (and a puppet or muppet obviously represents potential dream control).

The cave represents the dreaming side of liminal space (or the depths of the unconscious while sleeping) and thus on the primary level the emergence of the female character symbolizes my wife Zsuzsanna waking up next to me. Godzilla was the base coalescence metaphor (dream-swallower for the return to whole consciousness yet also represents heartburn in this case which I had to a small degree after waking, especially as Godzilla hunches down with his left paw on his stomach at one point), yet something within my dream self focus was able to shape my dream differently without being lucid.

Morning of December 2, 2015. Wednesday.



This dream is about as illogical and distorted as they come relating to perspective and focus, though there are a few vivid parts (such as when I read the writing on our ceiling - and for some reason, ceiling writing has only appeared in dreams over the last year or so). The location is unknown. It may be a distorted version of our first apartment on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. The rooms are all in a line with at least two doors opening to a public hall.

Over time, there is a focus on UFO events. This makes no sense, as I am only ever inside our apartment looking at our wall (on the other side of the public hall’s wall only) and ceiling. Still, it is somehow as if I am seeing into the “real” sky at times (though not at all consistent in perspective and awareness). An egg-shaped light moves on our ceiling and down our wall and at one point, seems to direct a ray into a “military building”.

This “military building” (to my left - on the other end of our apartment) turns out to be our television. I go over to it and see a young male (who reminds me of classmate Steve J when he was a teenager). He seems to be in a radio station and there are no other people visible. The ceiling at his location seems to have been damaged and he ducks a couple times as if the ceiling is unstable or shaking, but the scene is not very dramatic. Oddly, I am able to talk to him as if he can see me directly through the television screen. I ask him if he saw the ray of light come down and hit his building but he says “no”. Still, static and distorted horizontal bars appear on the picture after a time and I am wondering what is going on. (As far as I recall, this is the first time I have dreamt of talking with someone in a television broadcast. I do question the logic of him being able to directly see me with no evidence of a camera anywhere on my side - as again, he seems to look directly at me from the screen - but I do not become lucid. We talk for awhile but my dream shifts slightly).

I am then in a conversation with two people that remind me only a little of my sister Carol and her second husband Mel (and there seem to be aspects of other people’s faces integrated, though I cannot be sure who they are). I explain to them how I watch the sky at certain times very late at night or very early in the morning prior to sunrise and always see mysterious lights (lifelong dream focus) - some of which seem natural and some of which seem based on unknown technology. Yet again, this seems “true to reality” as happening all the time, but in reality, such events only happened twice (once in Florida with a slowly moving egg-shaped pale light and once in Wisconsin where it looked the same but was immediately followed by an “explosion” of the aurora borealis).

Eventually, I notice a large lump in our bed, implied head (under the quilt) nearest the wall (our bed lengthways out from the wall near our kitchen door when assuming our Gellibrand Street apartment). I become wary and uncertain how this seeming stranger got into our home and wonder if he is dangerous and I also notice our kitchen door to the public hall is open. I go and get my barbel and hit him hard on the shoulder from the side of the bed though not hard enough to badly injure him. He moves out from under the blanket a bit (without getting up) and it turns out to be my brother-in-law Robert S. This is a surprise but I apologize and ask him if I hurt him that badly and he says “no”, though seeming quite groggy.

When farther back from our open kitchen door, I see writing on our ceiling directly above our bed, in three rows of hand-printed felt-tip marker ink. I read it closely and it says “First faking by Bob. It ain’t here.” Looking back a couple times later, it shows the same text as before (which is atypical as writing often changes when looking back). Apparently, Robert (Bob) had somehow caused all the UFO events due to being annoyed with people believing in such things - but this is not certain because when I ask him if he wrote the message on our ceiling, he says “yes” but later says that he did not do it.

From here, the couple that vaguely reminds me of my sister Carol and her second husband approach me. The male asks me what I want to eat, showing me a large serving tray (what is it with serving trays in dreams lately?) which reminds me somewhat of the layout of a cheap and virtually inedible TV dinner (though about twice the size). I am not hungry and not keen on eating right now and this realization, along with a slight frustration on knowing how to say “no” to the other male, shakes me out of my dream.

Morning of September 26, 2015. Saturday.



In my dream, I am focused on my childhood dream girl scenario. Though I now know her in reality as my beautiful wife Zsuzsanna, my long-term memory is not accessible (which in fact is typical in many dream types). I am perhaps about twenty-five years old.

I look to her right and notice we are probably either in an isolated forest or possibly a park. My attention becomes focused on what looks like writing superimposed on the largest tree in the foreground, each letter perhaps about the size of a leaf. I become semi-lucid yet distracted by the idea of “learning” something in a dream state by reading it, which is usually futile.

Just under that tree in the foreground, I see a brighter light, which I am aware is my conscious mind at one level, like a potential portal to waking from the present scenario. This intrigues me. However, the landscape “under” and beyond the tree seems slightly miniature. I am not sure if I can “fit” under the sky if I choose to walk in that direction. I may bump my head on the sun and possibly burn some of my hair off.

The “writing” on the tree becomes more annoying as I “realize” that I am not looking at letters of the alphabet even though I am. For a time, I think I am looking at horseshoes that somehow got thrown into the tree over time by enthusiastic horseshoe players. However, I eventually become aware that I am in fact looking at “letters”, but mostly only “C” and “U” in a random sequence. I reflect that this may be some sort of binary code and consider trying to “interpret” or decode it.

Strangely enough, my dream-self does not even become aware of the play on “CU” (as in “see you”) at any point even though I am quite lucid prior to fading. I decide to move forward to wake. The ray of sunlight reminds me vaguely of a yellow number two pencil from my school days, held up diagonally, writing intricate “shadow writing” over the path ahead.

Morning of February 15, 2014. Saturday.



I had apparently been working with colored pencils, mostly writing but uncertain of all the content other than having a focus on dreams. Different colors seem to relate to different dream types.

There is a feature of two pencils forming a cross, which seems to have some significance. One is blue, one is red.

I have an association with an intersection, which is a recurring feature in my dreams. It may relate (in this case) to having different views than someone else, or “going in a different direction”, yet in contrast, it also has the implication of meeting or coming together. Thus, there is the aspect of ambiguity.

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2 minute 20 second read.

Saturday morning, 7 October 1972. (Rewritten for clarifications on 21 June 2022.)

The Sally Struthers Autograph

Dream # 2,119-05.



Some people might incorrectly claim the foundation of this dream is a "false awakening," but it originated from semi-conscious summoning and maintaining it with partial lucidness. However, there were sparsely occurring "false awakenings" (but not in the conventional sense) later in this sleep cycle.

To clarify, I thought I had been awake a few times before morning when I was not (though this was more like false memories of brief dreams that did not occur), mistakenly confirming "Sally Struthers" was written on the page. (There was no resemblance to her real-world autograph). The outcome was that it was not her name but "sepia" written in cursive in real life. (Even if it had been her name, it would have been me who had written it.) The word was on the right-hand page, slightly above the center. As a boy, I had written that it might have been confusion with the word "sleepy." Ultimately, trying to remain alert enough throughout the night to write in my dream journal immediately after a dream was something I felt was problematic. I never had trouble recalling multiple dreams in vivid detail every morning, so it was unnecessary.

In my dream, actress Sally Struthers, dressed informally in blue jeans and an orange sweater, visits me around midnight in the darkness of my Cubitis bedroom. She stands in the southwest quadrant of my room near the head of my bed. She seems younger, probably from my associations with her teenage persona of Pebbles in the cartoon.

As she leans over me (as I do not get out of bed), she tells me about the work she will be doing to help people in poverty and her pending activism (Christian Children's Fund, which became a scandalous organization in 1994, and public service announcements). She wants to sign her name on a page of my dream journal (that, in real life, was open on the desk near the head of my bed) to prove to me that she had been here.

I was familiar with her acting in "All in the Family," the movie "Five Easy Pieces," and (as aforementioned) voicing Pebbles in "The Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm Show."

There is unaccountable content here. Sally's appearance and persona are more like Fran Clinton in "The Getaway," but that movie did not come out until December 1972. Odder is how, according to sources, she only became the Christian Children's Fund spokeswoman in 1976.

Because the movie ("The Getaway") was already in production when I had this dream, it is demonstrably more from a co-occurrent "non-local" perception rather than "seeing the future." (That is certainly true for my continual "communication" with Zsuzsanna before we learned of each other in waking life.)

The content regarding the Christian Children's Fund and the charity work she became known for is likely from a type of perception people do not fully understand yet. I do not think it is "seeing the future." Because they approached her as such, it must have been for a discernible reason, something I impersonally perceived (for no particular reason for me). With Zsuzsanna, it is different and an unknown factor continually linking us together all our lives on many levels.

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