Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 9, 1966. Friday.



I am apparently on a spaceship, though there are no others around except for a couple of adult males who are talking near the end of a hall until they go around a corner (a common event in early childhood dreams). As I wander around, not being focused on much of anything, I see what I first think is a baby lying on the floor on its back, though partly covered with a ragged blanket. I soon consider that it is probably a plastic doll that someone dropped, but upon closer look, it is a heavy metallic statue of a man in a combat helmet, though unrealistically rendered somewhat as having a baby’s body proportions.

Later, a young girl with a lion shows me to the “front door” so I can go home. She is carrying the “statue”, which is now a ragged cloth doll with no apparent face, which is smaller than what this oddity had been minutes before. The “front door” turns out to be a semicircular ceiling (somewhat like the essence of a cave rather than a building or spaceship) that first seems to display outer space, though eventually I see the buildings of La Crosse and my apartment building. My dream fades from here.

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The night before (September 8, 1966), I had watched the first episode of “Star Trek” ever shown on television; “The Mantrap”; as well as the “Tarzan” episode “Eyes of the Lion”, which came directly before it on the same channel. This “Tarzan” episode (as well as movies like “The Lion” from 1962, which also featured a young girl with an adult male lion) had influenced a number of my dreams later on despite the fact I had confused it in my teenage years with “The Haunted Lighthouse”, an episode of “Lost in Space” that also featured a girl (Penny), a lion, a cave, and “going back home”, though that did not air until October 18, 1967. In the “Tarzan” episode, a young blind girl who lived in a cave used an adult lion as a seeing-eye animal. (I am still wary of lions in some dreams, depending on my level of unconsciousness in relationship to my dream state awareness level, as it is a natural factor of potential RAS modulation as the waking alert factor, and additionally as emergent consciousness coalescence, as a lion can swallow the dream self, though this coalescence factor has been re-symbolized as hugging in some dreams, by way of virtuous circle, as with “Changing the Lion of Coalescence into my Wife Zsuzsanna" from December 3, 2016).

I can easily see the autosymbolism of this dream. The soldier statue was implied as a RAS modulation precursor, as RAS is often aggressive if I subliminally decide that it is not time to wake yet. However, I eventually accepted consciousness reascension and there was no conflict. Learning the nature of the dream state at an early age was very beneficial, as nightmares or even “bad dreams” are extremely rare, other than when biologically premonitory.

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This online dream journal entry was reformatted from the source material, abridged, and clarified on Wednesday, 21 February 2018.

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Morning of August 25, 2015. Tuesday.



In my dream (with no implied back story or prior memory of any other event or situation) I find myself absentmindedly looking at an array of thumbnails on my computer monitor, too small to see much detail other than various images of a mysterious figure in black and what may be a closeup of a face in solely one image of the set. It looks like it may be a set of photographs of a young dark-haired Moroccan girl in a mostly featureless room, though it may also be a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna. My thoughts are not that defined and I remain puzzled over the display. The images seem slightly larger at one point, though not based on any technical adjustment on my part (though possibly by automatic magnification, based on purely mental “zooming in” of the dream self’s perspective, this being a fairly common event in my dreams). She is wearing black clothes, including black silky palazzo pants and a kaftan top from what can be seen in the thumbnails, and it looks like there may be a black veil in some images.

When I bring up one image in the top row, I see a young female’s face and it looks rather distorted though still human for the most part. An outline of very small jewels completely encircles her eyes, mouth, and nose area. They look like they may have been deeply embedded into her skin. This puzzles me and for a moment I almost think it is her actual face and that the “jewels” are organic, though I eventually accept that they may be tiny rhinestones. I have no idea who it is at this point. At one time the girl may have been pretty, but now she looks almost inhuman (or “alien” in a cinematic sense) and very odd. My dream fades after this, after seeing only the one larger image with some sort of vague wariness regarding what sort of “creature” she may be (though likely still human for the most part, yet unique in that I get the impression no one else has gone to this extreme in facial alteration, which may be related to some sort of extreme cultural or religious purpose).

Night of March 2, 2015. Monday.



An unknown dark-haired young girl is somehow driving a stagecoach. At times, it seems to be around sunset. I am not certain if I am actually “in” the old west or if it is a strange attempted reenactment of a western scene for a movie or a club. I float, seemingly disembodied, on the right side of the vehicle. The girl somehow remains hovering above the front part of the stagecoach. This is not to imply a strong wind or great speed as it sort of suggests, but a simple ability or occurrence of casually floating in the air (apparently under her own control for the most part) remaining in the same general area relative to the coach and somehow controlling the horses as well. There are no mishaps and no drama. In fact, the girl seems to be mildly amused or at least cheerful about her endeavor. At times, she seems to be a silhouette inside the stagecoach, but this is ambiguous as she is continuously the driver.

Morning of October 4, 1982. Monday.



I am seemingly traveling on my own, heading south to an uncertain destination. There are a lot of isolated areas with a lot of shrubs, mostly. There are some back roads I follow here and there. Vaguely, I am trying to remember if I should be getting to work and what day it is.

I discover an unusual farmhouse behind a cluster of higher shrubs. It looks abandoned. Just south of that are a few more houses, but more modern-looking. They still seem a bit unmaintained in some ways or perhaps not yet completed. A man of about forty is on a smaller tractor mower in the backyard of one larger property. I ignore him at first.

I investigate the farmhouse, going inside through a door hanging from one hinge at an angle. There are also piles of wood blocking some other areas. There is sort of a damp smell and a desolate mood at first. Not much happens. I look around and notice that the decor is fairly unusual, but I am not sure why.

Finally, I go into a room that has a book on a desk but the paper is unusual, somewhat felt-like, and the ink is a bit fuzzy. There is an old photograph of a beautiful girl that lived in the house (late 1940s?) before it was abandoned due to a “natural disaster”. Looking around, it is possible that the disaster was a flood, as some features seem to relate to water somehow, as perhaps reminiscent of something you would see on an old ship. There is some sort of lantern or old-fashioned kerosene lamp but it has a different design somehow.

Looking at the book, which seems to be a diary, I discover, through images and seemingly discerning some of the writing, that the girl had a pet otter that she really cared for. I do not think that she had it in a cage. I sense a strange sadness at the idea of someone leaving their home after a seeming longer history in the region and wonder what had happened to them.

Later, a couple other people are in their yard. One may be the man I saw on the lawn mower. He tells me that the whole area had been under water until fairly recently. He mentions that the farmhouse was there long before the new houses were built south of it.

It dawns on me that the girl and her parents were some sort of aquatic human-like creatures (but mostly human in appearance) and that the “natural disaster” was not a flood, but the waters receding so that they had to leave their home to go to a river or lake somewhere to get away from land-dwelling humans, especially. Thus it turns out that this was one of those intriguing endings (and a very similar mood and awareness) that seemed to have intense sarcasm for “every man” along similar lines as “I’m Eager Beaver” and “The Four-Fanged Snake of Swamp Garden”, two of which I have already posted.