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I met with a guy I hated from school. I've got him on the ground and started punching him, mom was there telling me to stop but I couldnt, I punched him 10 times with my right fist , then 10 times with the left one. Both got bloody. He was a bloody pulp by the time I finished. It felt good. For some reason punching 10 times with both hands beared some importance...

I could see in the mirror my body. It looked normal enough but on my stomach was a rectangle. Inside were little springs hooked up to coils. I began to pull at the strings. As soon as I began to pull at the strings I understood what they were there for. The first string I had tugged at led to the tension in my chest. As I pulled the strained feeling melted away. The second string led to my back which had been cramping all day. The third string led to my stomach and as I pulled the spring came with it and the string came all the way out. There was no going back

Morning of December 4, 2017. Monday.



I am in bed in our present home, though as usual, the appearance is different. Our bed is oriented as it was prior to the devastating storm that tore our roof off.

Over time, I become aware that rain has possibly been coming through the ceiling (as it had in real life before the tarpaulins were placed over our house). (Note that it was raining in reality at the time of my dream, which I had become aware of through partial awakenings.)

I notice that the ceiling has unusual downward bulges, especially in one area where it almost resembles the shape of a complex vase. The ceiling is not of narrow boards (of their original wood appearance) as it is in reality, but is lower and constructed of white ceiling tiles. I get up and tell Zsuzsanna to leave the area near our bed, as the ceiling might collapse.

Between the dining room (which we use as our bedroom) and kitchen, a part of the wall (which does not exist in reality) and ceiling falls. It is more like an unusual curtain rod with some sort of odd elongated plumb-bob-like features hanging from across it. (This probably relates to an association with vertical evenness.) An identical feature on the other side also partly comes down. While looking towards our bed area, I also see a number of thin boards sticking randomly out from the left edge of the wall at various angles, which was apparently part of the inside of the wall.

I am then in the room of our two youngest sons. Eventually, one of our daughters, a fictional character however, as in my dream there is a false memory of having at least five daughters around nine years old, comes in and talks to Zsuzsanna (with the girl standing near the south wall of the room and facing Zsuzsanna). She is Hispanic with darker skin. She seems worried. When I look at her, I notice something on her neck, the front lower area. I first worry that ceiling debris had gotten into her neck, possibly going through her neck from behind. Puzzling over this, I also worry for a short time that it is an actual bone slightly protruding from above her skin. Eventually, I decide that it is just a large droplet of water below her neck and I gaze directly at it for a few minutes, noticing a slight quivering effect. (This is liminal dream control in trying to reinduce my dream with water induction, especially as it appears on the neck of the precursory form of the personified preconscious, though it also relates to transferred associations with Zsuzsanna’s throat and the soothing of it, as she had been coughing in real life prior to my dream.) No longer worried about her status, I go back into our kitchen. Still, looking back, I notice that the preconscious form (as our fictional daughter) is looking up, blinking quickly, and moving her eyes side to side (symbolizing the REM factor of the waking transition). I ignore the RAS manifestation (which also foreshadows my hypnopompic illusion that comes after this dream ends) and as a result, my dream lasts a minute or two longer.

While standing near the center of our kitchen again, I notice that the walls below the windows have large jagged holes directly leading to our backyard (representing the emergent consciousness factor with subliminal realization of being unconscious yet still being able to look deeper into my mind), the perimeter of these holes made up of splinters of wood. However, this area of our kitchen is rendered incorrectly. It is more like the inside of the residential turret of the northeast room I used to sleep in (on the second floor) in the King Street mansion or the first-floor bay window area on the south end (dining room) of the Loomis Street house. I consider that there is too much damage for our house to remain livable; as I also consider someone could easily crawl through a hole into our house if entering our backyard through our gate.

After a short time, I see that bed sheets are now covering the holes and that they might also be smaller than I first thought. As I am thinking about this, I wake, realizing I am focused on the curtain that divides our bed from the kitchen area and listening to the rain and that I had been partly creating my otherwise non-lucid dream with vague threads of my conscious self’s will.

As I am not fully awake, I am then looking up at our real ceiling. I see a hypnopompic illusion of large raindrops hanging everywhere across our ceiling. I blink my eyes a few times, but the illusion remains for a minute or two. (There is actually nothing present to create the illusion of water droplets. It is just an atypically sustained hypnopompic illusion with concern about when it did have water droplets present, though never as dense as in my illusion.)

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so I'm imprison with a gyspy that has magical power and can grant wishes so she ask me what do you wish for I reply more wishes then fall asleep

I'm dreaming in darkness in a body I don't have full control of yet he more powerful then I in my reality form so I tend to the darkness trying to attain this body over and over again as if I'm living imprison in suspended animation I'm looking to find myself talking to friends all day but I'm alone sleeping and people are looking at me from a glass screen as I'm looking around trying to find this body in darkness I become a imitation of past astral form and astral dreams

as I start to project I find myself looking at word like they were thought bubbles of past convo I already have yet I never remember how much I was into you I say as I was up in a false awakening I jolt to my regular form then try to sustain the lucidity control in my false replica body in my false replica body more powerful then me I keep trying to attain this form yet I get imprison in darkness where nothing means nothing but eternal night an day as I try to ascend to another dream form I'm force to watch myself as a false imagination

Date: MON 4 DEC - 2017



Dream No. 235 - Separated Sections

Dream 235 A – Not Good Enough
I don't remember how the dream started. From where I do remember, I was at Coles in Brandon Park Shopping Centre for some reason. I checked the internet on my phone and went to the student results page. It said that I had gotten 96.00% for accounting information systems. KG had then appeared behind me and told me that wasn't good enough and that I should be aiming for 100.00%. I said to him that he should appreciate my efforts and that I even topped EP's subject mark of 94.00%. He was still trying to say it wasn't good enough but I kept retaliating with “it's above EP's subject”.

The dream eventually changed scenes to where I was now at Waverley Gardens shopping centre. I saw WB sitting with a group of girls in front of Target and so I wanted to go and say hello to her. She was chatting with friends, including Jz.Se. from my year level, and sometimes looking at me as if she was sniggering at me to them. As soon as I got close enough, WB disappeared and turned into some stranger, a middle aged women of some sort that I couldn't identify the nationality of. I felt cut that WB performed such an act on me and so I wandered off into Target. The shelves in Target were crammed full of traditional female African clothes but nothing suitable for me.

The dream scene changed again and I was at this oval where a lot of random people were in blue guernseys, playing a game. In this scene, I still felt cut about WB. As I was walking around the fence, a guy in a black guernsey, who must have been the team captain, stopped me and spoke to me. He said something like “hey, you're the one that's going to talk to Dreamy WB, right? She told me to tell you that if you want to talk to her, you have to go in there”. This team captain guy had a warm, positive energy about him that suggests he may have been a dream guide in the past.

Back to the actual events, the team captain guy was pointing at the building that I had to go to. It was some cold looking, stone brick complex which was completely and blackly dark inside like underneath a house. All I could do was look into that cave-like place from the outside, right next to the entry way, giving short little screams.

Dreamy WB must have heard me carrying on and known I was scared as she eventually emerged from the pitch black and went to side of the entry way to greet me. She was wearing a the uniform-like outfit with her hair up in a high bun. For a few seconds to start with, we watched the players on the oval. She then turned to me to say a small array of words and then she spread her arms out, offering me a hug. I stayed locked in the hug for a minute or two before I woke up.

Dream 235 B – Scrapbooks Of Time
I think the dream started from when I was at my house and the family was wanting me to clean some my stuff off the dining room table. I find some scrapbook there and end up having a lengthy look though it. It's a compilation of all these photos from my time at Killester, almost like an informal school magazine. My dad comes behind me and asks what I am doing, I have no hesitation in showing him.

I am then actually at Killester and there a lot of those scrapbooks in this big foyer room. I am looking through and I see pictures of a lot of past students... There are some I recognised. They all had normal looks on their faces except for when I got to AD, her features were somewhat distorted and she looked angry in her photo. For some reason, her teeth were what scared me the most, I closed that scrapbook fast and was put off looking at anymore of them.

I was then actually having classes at Killester and as I walked through the corridors, I saw students from another school in a burgundy uniform with properly collared blazers. Specifically I was having music class with Ms A. WB and I ended up having a good relationship in this dream... She was accepting it when I would seemingly rub myself on her. I thought the terror of AD was over... It wasn't... She appeared behind me and was furious. Then the scene ended.

For the next scene, I was at my computer again. I looked online and saw some photos from WB's trip to America back in 2015, posted by some relative who has no known identity in this life. One of the photos was the family at a swimming pool with skyscraper-like buildings in the background. I thought to myself “Good, I will be posted this year”. That's all I can remember about this dream.



Dream Trophies Achieved:
- None

I wonder... why don't dreams traumatize us? The nightmares I've had this past week were so profoundly awful, if these scenarios happened to someone for real, it would surely cause deep emotional and mental damage. Murder, being murdered, horrible torture, frightening 'hauntings', ... stuff that really makes your stomach turn. Yet when I wake up, it takes only a good 10-20 seconds for the fear and horror to 'wear off', and then it's like nothing ever happened.

Does it have to do with memory? Dreams are generally easily forgotten, but even the ones I still remember perfectly (like when I've just woken up) feel like they're immediately covered in a kind of "haze" that robs them of their power over me.

Or is it just that we consciously know the events weren't real (those aspects of higher consciousness are generally turned off during regular dreaming), and when our consciousness 'boots up' after waking, it dispels the hold the dream has over us?

I had this thought because I realized I must have died a million times at this point in a million different ways, and have been hunted down by more demons than there are in Hell. But when I wake, all is hunky-dory.