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Created Monday 18 June 2018

Got a WILD to note. There was more, though that cat's interruption made recollection of such slip away.

Dream 1 - Function Without Form

WILD transition in bed, which I confirmed through simple hand gestures. This state soon collapsed. Reentry two minutes later, and repeat. In my third try, I roll off the bed and into the void. I floated around aimlessly for a bit, before purposefully diving further down.

Eventually, I arrived over a snowfilled hillside, a dawn sun concealed by clouds. Once near the ground, I made a hard turn forward, quickly covering a good distance until I landed. There was a cozy log hut nearby, bright light emanating from within. As I approached it, the environment deteriorated into the artificial, blocky likeness of Minecraft. Tactless, but I didn't let that bother me. Either way, that might've explained why I was suddenly assaulted by the zombies and skeletons from said game. I charged strait towards the largest hills, yelling and flailing like a poorly imitated Bruce Lee along the way. Any undead in my path were instantly broken apart.

Next, I thought to summon my guide, E, imagining that she'd appear on my outstretched (blocky) arms, to no effect. I then tried transforming into a Spellforged Guardian, which I imagined would give me iridescent, ceramic skin. I changed instantly. But, instead of getting the intended form, I was morphed into Megaman X. This similarly appeared blocky, until I focused on my hands, which, contrasting the environment, quickly took a lifelike shape. As a test, I fired sparkling energy from each of my palms. These blasts were surprisingl destructive given how little effort they took to fire, blowing away huge swaths of the hillsides without any signs of stopping As per the contest, I tried doing likewise through my breath, but that didn't work.

A distinct jingle then sounded in the background. I managed a few more shots before the dream collapsed.

Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday.



In the first part of my dream, which seems to take place in late morning, I look into a birdcage and see what I first think is a dead hummingbird on the bottom of the cage, one of our supposed pet hummingbirds. (We do not have any pet hummingbirds in reality.) I feel that this will upset our oldest daughter and I soon have ambiguous associations with it being a mouse. Its head is facing away from me, though also oriented somewhat to the left. Later, I talk to Zsuzsanna, as I am puzzled about where the other birds are. They are not in their birdcage and I consider they may have flown away. Are some in the same cage (even though there is a mix of quails and small parrots)?

Later, I am trying to rest in bed, which is in an unfamiliar location (though implied to be our present home). I notice, to my left, an area out from the opposite corner of the room, where there are two thin gorillas standing, one black, one chocolate-colored. The black one is on the right in my view. They are watching us. I find it odd that we have pet gorillas, especially as the gate that encloses them is only up to their waist. I become wary of having these pets and start to consider that it is a foolhardy idea. I consider talking to Zsuzsanna about it but they start talking simultaneously in unfamiliar male voices. Although it sounds like a legitimate language, it is not English or any language that seems familiar to me, which annoys me more.

I tell them to speak English. They keep talking, seeming somewhat aggressive as well as somehow condescending. I jump into their small fenced-in area and knock them down. I quickly saw their arms off, then their heads as I hold them down. I do not feel as if I am danger or liable to be hurt at any point.

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This dream had three precognitive threads, curiously enough. One of our oldest daughter’s mice did die (the first one that had ever died since she started keeping mice). I was also very surprised to see the three youngest quail in the same cage as the lovebirds, which Zsuzsanna had done temporarily, as the two older quails had now been picking on their three offspring. As for the two gorillas, we watched “Valley of the Sasquatch” tonight. I did not really plan to see this specific movie, and I did not know its content. There is a scene where one of the men cuts the arm off one of the Sasquatch.

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So I'm on this train. It's like an old western cowboy train..and I got all these backpacks..full of god knows what. For some reason they were important. The train stops and it is time for me to get off, it's in a big city in modern times...with a steam engine train..go figure..So I got like 12 backpacks and they are too heavy to carry, I get like 3 of them off the train before it starts moving. I'm hauling ass and throwing the backpacks out the windows.. then the train gets too far and I realize I just ditched all my backpacks in the city and homeless people think it's a U.N. supply air drop and they are stealing all my shit. Last thing I remember was screaming "Fuck! My backpacks!" Never knew what was even in them.

Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday.



I titled this dream “The Second Storm” because of it being from a literal thread of my conscious self identity in vague recall of the storm that tore our roof apart in November of last year. However, our home is rendered as the Cubitis house (where I have not lived since 1978) rather than our present home. In this dream, I become aware of the cyclone or hurricane approaching. I am not as afraid as I would be in waking life. Zsuzsanna is present. It seems to be late morning.

Mainly, I am near the doorway of my bedroom (as in Cubitis). Rather than the roof coming off this time, sections of the southwest area of the south wall, closer to the ceiling, are partially destroyed, leaving a couple irregular holes. A small pine tree is carried through the hole in the wall (though this would not be possible in reality regarding the size of the hole) and blown through my room mostly in an upright (vertical) position, in slow motion, as are a few branches from other trees. I do not think the house will be destroyed. Blue sky and white clouds can be seen through the holes rather than signs of a storm. The roof stays on. I am soon aware that the storm is over and wake shortly after this.

Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday.



In my last dream of today, I enter a short but very vivid scene. I find myself back on the second floor of the King Street mansion, with no memory of my present life other than a subtle recall of Zsuzsanna being my wife. It seems to be the middle room of the east side of the house, where I once lived in real life. Moments before, I had full memory in partial wakefulness of where I was, but this is completely lost upon my short return to sleep.

The room’s west wall is deeper into the room than the doorway, resulting in a short wall to the right of the doorway when entering the room (a fictitious feature which my dream self does not recognize as wrong). I notice an irregular hole in this wall of which is about a foot above the floor. This puzzles me. Over time, I start to realize that something inside the wall is on fire. It relates to the electricity. Smoke billows from the corner of the wall for a short time (which of course would not be possible as the bottom of the wall is solid to the floor). I sense that the wiring, farther inside from the wall’s outer surface, is on fire. I look at the hole and see it is somehow growing (though is not visibly on fire). (This does not make any sense, as is often the case with dreams. If the wiring is burning, farther back from the wall as such, how could the hole being growing larger on its own?)

The hole grows downward, elongating and curving right, and soon resembles a reverse J-shape. The hole grows bigger, with a slight sizzling sound. It does not expand outward much, but “burns” downward (yet with no sign of flames) in a line. I decide I need to turn the light off. I flick the switch off and immediately wake.

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A light switch, as with a door, is autosymbolism for reticular activating system mediation of the sleeping and waking process. Typically light, lightning, and fire are consciousness augmentation and initiating the waking process. (Even in real life, if I accidentally drop something on my foot and become suddenly more aware, I will “see lightning”.) However, since early childhood, it has also become analogous to achieving lucidity and dream state revivification through non-lucid dream control or non-lucid manipulation. (Many forms of autosymbolism of reticular activating system mediation can be used to increase lucidity and, by way of the virtuous circle effect and with countless legitimized experiences, result in an entirely different dreaming process than many people experience, including continuous non-lucid dream control where bad dreams are very rare other than when biologically premonitory). In this case, its analogy is simply turning the potential for lucidity off and waking at the same time, as I had already slept a little too long this morning. Otherwise, fire is one of my most common dream features, especially of microdreams and very short dreams. (There will usually be at least one inconsequential microdream of a small fire at the beginning of every sleep cycle, which has been the case since early childhood.)

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Some people, when not wishing to achieve conscious awareness in the dream state, or simply wanting to return to sleep, will have dreams about trying to turn the same light off repeatedly, with little or no success, or of turning off a large number of lights in the same room, resulting in the room being as lit as ever. I have experienced this myself, and ultimately, it is hilarious, despite the intense frustration of the dream self.

Didn't get sleepy until 10:00 P M... Going to bed now...
1473 words
(ZZZ)

Round 1 of dreams.

I woke from round 1 of dreams with a surprising amount of recall. The first thing I remember was that this area had no water. I was with some friends, and we wanted to help provide them with water. We had a delivery truck and some sort of water supply... That's all I remember for that part.

I remember one of my friends in that group, or my sister, had this red rocket-shaped toy. They wanted to play catch with it. It bounced around. I didn't want to play catch with it, due to the shape.

I actually dreamed that I was in a church. That was ironic because earlier that day I had said I will never go into a church again. I guess I meant in waking life. Anyway there were some parts I forgot. But there was something about donation basket being passed. I was deciding to put in one dollar or two, and decided to put just one. I wondered if people who saw my amount would judge me, but a dollar was a lot to part with!

There was an interesting scene where a giant Pokemon appeared. I forgot what Pokemon. Maybe a dream original. I was Ash and I had some of the standard Ash Pokemon, one of them being Charizard. I sent out Charizard but also used mind powers to open a hole in the ground, get the big misunderstood creature to go in there, and then sealed it back up. The cracks in the ground even dissappeared.

But it came back out. I remember fighting it with Charizard. I ended up doing this arm movement, like a karate chop with my left arm... Which transitioned into being a very silly joke some how. R M or R K was there, laughing at my joke.

I remember something near a stage. And something with R M trying to sell me something, but as a joke. He was making a joke about advertisers and sales people in the way he presented the item. It was a vitamin or protein thing. I pretended to want to buy it.

Then I remember being in a bath tub. I was just wondering how the type of coffin someone gets place in when they die affects the quality of their life after death. Also, how does where they get buried affect it. The thoughts kind of worried me.

I remember another scene where a woman was sharing. It was like a meeting with lots of rows of desks. New people, male and female, had shared before her. She commented on how it was nice to have the "patriarch" and "matriarch" of the meeting. At that point a guy walked by, kind of like P B, and said, "There's no cross talk in the meeting. Including satirical." Someone else said to him, "You can't interrupt her share, even to announce the cross talk rules."

He pulled out an ACA red book to show us some things. The pages had big hand written "letters" which didn't correspond to letters in waking life. I remember laughing at the silliness and almost waking up.

I also remember a part where this military guy was saying how they were poisoning his eggs. But he couldn't escape. He was either in prison or in the military. It reminds me of how I am being "poisoned" by E M I but not able to escape it.

I did an RBFA but re-remembered it all again later.

(ZZZ)

Round 2 of dreams.

I remember being at my house from college, and trying to access the internet. Eventually, I got on, but I could only find a few forums. I couldn't find my usual forums. One forum was about Pokemon, and only had 2 pages. The other was about E M I related stuff.

I guess I forgot some middle parts.

I remember sitting with a group of people. The topic of eating came up and I said how I had worked through O A and Grey Sheet and now I do my own thing. There was a woman accross from me who seemed interested in talking to me some more. We exchanged contact information. We said our phone numbers at the same time, and it turned out that we both had the same first six digits.

I gave her my number and e-mail. Making sure to say it was a land line, so no texting. I remember writing on the top right corner of a sheet of paper. careful not to use the whole sheet. My hand writing came out a little funny. I wrote my e-mail down, too.

Then another guy came along and he seemed mad at me for standing up to smokers. He was physically intimidating and I figured I'd be better off leaving. I remember being at some kind of bar type of place. There was a poison stick in an ash tray, with a line of smoking floating up from it, but it the colors were inverted. I figured I would want to leave around then.

I remember trying to leave. It was like W W. But when I tried to leave there was a stair well thing, with a wooden panel over one side, and a screen near the exit. I hid between the wooden panel and the screen, not sure the coast was clear on the one side. But knowing that on the other side, there was a guy blaming his kids for all his problems. And another guy encouraging him to keep blaming his kids for all his problems! How silly.

When the coast was finally clear, I went out through the screen. I'm not sure if this was when I came up through a hole in the floor of another room. It was like the break room for workers at a restaurant. One of the chefs was in there, and some other people. I came up through the floor in a harness thing. They made fun of me for needing the harness. I tried to explain my self a little but then just decided to leave while I still could.

I remember thoughts of walking along a beach, which would have been near W W. And being stopped by "police" who happened to be religious, so they had a conflict of interest. But they pressured me to go back based on their religious bias. I don't know if I actually experienced that dream, or just thought of it.

I remember Ms. S, a high school language teacher, having some kind of online career going. She was struggling to make ends meet and was thinking of what else she could possibly do. More to it that I forgot...

I remember going to this out door restaurant place. Maybe it was my job in the dream. But I told off my boss. Saying that I didn't want to set tables or whatever it was. And I think some of the conditions were inhumane. I remember seeing T H sitting at a table with a bowl of apples. Each apple had some kind of comb in it, like it was the way of preparing them.

When I woke from those, I was half way in a stream of thought for a while. Once I came to full consciousness I was still able to recall the dreams though.

(ZZZ)

round 3 of dreams.

All I remembered from these was being on a phone meeting. The moderator needed someone to help moderate the meeting for a while. One woman came in to offer to help. I also offered to help. It became competitive for which one of us would get to help. I forgot the rest. I remember being in my house, at a table near the wi fi router, or in my room. Maybe someone was digging or doing yard work outside.

I couldn't remember anything from round 3 when I'd woken up. I only remembered that detail after reviewing rounds 1 and 2 in my mind a little.

I didn't get back to sleep after that. It was already around 6. I tried to go to bed earlier but couldn't sleep until after 10. Well, I am beginning to face the E M I problems more squarely.

Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday.



Subliminal awareness of the autosymbolic nature of the waking process begins. My unconscious mind is personified as an unknown female despite the fact my non-lucid dream self does not possess viable access to my unconscious mind at this level of REM sleep. Errors and distortions abound. She is a subliminal thread of my wife Zsuzsanna, of which my non-lucid dream self does not yet possess viable memory of or contact with my current conscious self identity. She has a daughter who literally but subliminally represents our oldest daughter at a younger age.

I am sitting on the floor in a unique erroneous version of the King Street mansion. The house is mirror imaged to its real-life layout, flipped east to west. I am in the downstairs antechamber while the female mostly remains in the living room on the other side of the doorway. She seems annoyed in building a small structure on the floor in about the middle of the living room, mainly from a set of small blocks of different solid colors, mostly blue, yellow, red, and green. They are about the size of baby blocks, but with a feature on all six sides that is like the knobs of a Lego brick, though there are four knobs on each side of each cube in a two by two pattern. A couple times, as the blocks do not fit into each other, stacks of about seven high topple over. There is a row of about eight stacks at various heights. (This is autosymbolism for failure to initiate viable conscious awareness.)

I am puzzled and somewhat annoyed, though not angry, in trying to rebuild the staircase that goes to the second floor (where I had lived in real life though not been since 1990), which supposedly is to be the real staircase. This is an extreme failure of thinking skills as I am solely working with small triangular pieces of wood. The pieces are only about two inches thick. The two stacks I had made this far are only about six inches high in two rows of about eight pieces each. I cannot seem to arrange the pieces in the correct orientation regarding which edge should face upward. I have several together, but they do not display the form of a set of steps. This indicates that my subconscious self is having difficulty in reaching my conscious self identity during the waking process.

Subliminal anticipation of the waking process continues but increases. This is after the subliminal recognition of a staircase being autosymbolism for the waking process despite its miniaturization in a setting that represents the liminal space of the process, the antechamber (what my landlady called a “vestibule” in real life). Vestibular system correlation personifies, which causes my dream to jump to a new setting, though in the same King Street mansion, still mirrored east to west.

I find myself on the second floor. I develop an ambiguous awareness where I start to become partly aware of my married status and erroneously perceive the house, though vaguely, as the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (where we have not lived in years), though that was only a one-storey house and was nothing like the King Street house. Vestibular system correlation personifies as Glenn, one of our landlords from Stadcor Street. He has never lived in America, but my dream self does not consider this error. I have a vague awareness he is married to my landlady (only vaguely recalled as Zsuzsanna at this point, but this does not trigger the realization of my erroneous associations) even though in reality he had a male partner.

A vague thread of dream state awareness is present at this point, though no threads of viable lucidity. Because of vestibular system correlation personifying as Glenn, who seems very cheerful, I walk through the doorway of the upstairs kitchen, which opens to the porch’s roof. This is from vague recall that a porch can be used to vivify a dream, as it is autosymbolic of a specific level of dream state consciousness of which I had used many times in the past, since early childhood, to vivify my dream or “step into” a more vivid offset dream. This process developed from walking outside by way of the porch’s doorway. Here though, I am somewhat puzzled from being on the roof of the porch, as there is no additional doorway to intensify my dream or trigger viable lucidity (as the option to jump off the roof to fly does not occur to me). Glenn looks up at me from the public sidewalk in front of the house.

“You’ll have to use the catwalk,” he says happily.

I get the impression he had used the so-called catwalk and jumped to the ground from the outer edge of the roof. I study the roof and see a precarious narrow section of wood that is separate from the rest of the roof, which puzzles me. I stand on it, but consider that I cannot get to the rest of the roof (which has some building materials and tools sitting about) even though all I would have to do is step onto it from this supposed catwalk. Even after fifty years, my dream self fails to remember the dream sign of a cat being a “witness” to liminal space and typically near doorways (for the purpose of inducing lucidity in some cases), though the association had been distorted into the word “catwalk” in this case. (No cat is present and my dream self does not think about cats even upon hearing “cat” as part of “catwalk”.) The association with a “cat always landing on its feet” is not present (regarding the vestibular system dynamics of the waking process, which is often a falling sensation, based solely on biology, not “meaning” as “interpreters” falsely propagate).

My dream shifts into a different scenario as a result of considering the nature of the King Street roof (still erroneously associated with the Stadcor Street house) and subliminal anticipation of the falling sensation of the waking process, which does not occur as a result of this shift. Now it is a typical non-lucidly forced “haunting” scenario. I am downstairs again, but this time the setting is an ambiguous composite of the Stadcor Street house and the Cubitis house. I am now more aware of Zsuzsanna as my wife, though it is still not a complete recognition. She still seems to serve the role as landlady.

“How long has…it…been in this house?” I ask her this dramatically, speaking of the haunting, which is mainly nonthreatening. We talk briefly, but I become distracted. I find myself in a dark room with an unknown female. There is talk about ghosts and seeing physical evidence of ghosts in this house. I tell her, “This is the only house I have ever lived in where there is the physical presence of ghosts.” On one level, I know ghosts are not real, but on another level, I have achieved non-lucid dream control and revivification at this point to entertain myself. The old writing desk that Zsuzsanna used to have is present, which results in an increase of thinking skills correlation. Near the opposite side of the desk from where the unknown female is standing, another female slowly appears. It is a ghost. “Can you see her?” I ask the female. She tells me that she cannot see anyone there.

The ghost is a realistic version, as a “real” human, of Velma Dinkley (of the Scooby-Doo franchise), though about twelve years of age. She seems puzzled and very shy and uncertain. “Who are you?” I ask her. “I’m a goddess,” she whispers. I am puzzled and ask her again about five times. Each time, she softly says, “I’m a goddess”. I want to help her come to terms with her death. (This is a vague influence of “Show Yourself” from 2016, seen just prior to sleep, where I expected Travis to hug the ghost of Paul near the end, though he did not). I hug her, place my right hand on the small of her back, and move it up to the middle of her back. As a result, the palm of my hand begins to glow with white light, rays shining into other areas of the room. (I do not recall the association with Zsuzsanna having been born on September 13, though this was exactly one year before “Scooby-Doo” first aired, therefore Velma in this case is a subliminal representation of Zsuzsanna.)

The palm of my right hand continues to glow as I find myself walking south through the Cubitis hallway. I stand in the doorway of the Cubitis southwest bedroom looking into the semidarkness. Several unfamiliar people, both men and women, are sitting on couches that are against the west and north walls. (This is an erroneous setup, as the north wall held the sliding doors of a large closet in reality.) I hold up my right hand and the light spreads into the room somewhat. The others are puzzled. I step through the doorway and wake. (This is a vague association with a security system reading a handprint to allow entry, or, in this case, to exit the dream state.)

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With this entry, I have attempted to explain the dreaming and waking process as best I could for this dream. (This is difficult in a society where most people have no viable understanding of dreams, many still believing in “interpretation” and “symbolism” in the popular sense, neither of which is real.) The bedroom is a literal thread of final recognition that I am dreaming, and so I choose to wake. The light represents attaining consciousness as a willingness to accept daybreak and intelligence of which only the conscious self possesses in waking life.

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