Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 31, 2016. Sunday.

Dream #: 17,940-03. Reading time: 1 min 10 sec. Readability score: 70.



This dream branched off into today’s volcano and “circling the globe” dream (without any apparent waking transition or consciousness shift other than the second dream situation becoming more vivid over time).

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My wife Zsuzsanna, our children, and I are going to a public Halloween celebration. My dream self does not perceive the presumed October date as incorrect.

I will be wearing a hooded cloak, though I perceive it as light-colored at one point rather than black (of which seems more suitable to my implied character as the Grim Reaper). There is minor difficulty getting it to fit.

My only other costume feature is a silver skull ring which goes on the middle finger of my left hand. The skull is upright when viewed by others when my arm is naturally at my side. There is a slide switch in the back of it that makes its eye sockets shine with brilliant light, so bright that it would light up the street. I see the two beams, but they are not overwhelmingly bright.

As with many of my dreams, I take to the air in flight without thinking much about it. I notice an unknown young girl also flying to the party, ahead of me by about half a block. In these types of dreams, I decide to fly while considering it a completely natural event.

My dream changes into the type where I need to push through barriers at times due to the unusual maze-like layout of various unfamiliar buildings. At one point, there is a very thick window on a high floor of a commercial building. I attempt to push through it and eventually succeed. I walk or fly through walls, with slight difficulty at times. Mostly, I fly around enjoying the view.

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Morning of January 30, 2016. Saturday.



This dream mostly involved a focus on “forcing” energy from my hands. Typically, the energies that flow from my hands in dreams where I heal people is a sort of blue lightning. In real life, I had discussed this with other posters on the dream journal website who had the same experiences. It was interesting that directing blue lightning from one’s hands is not that rare a dream event with certain dreamers.

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This dream does not feature the blue lightning but instead has a sort of “hissing” emerging from the palms of my hands. The force seems less automatic than with the blue lightning dreams; that is, I sort of mentally initiate the sound and implication. My wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are present as we are now. My mother-in-law and Zsuzsanna’s youngest sister are also present. The setting is completely unknown. It seems to be an unfamiliar residence my mother-in-law lives in near a rural area. There seems to be a backstory of her having to move out soon. There are many small items everywhere in her house, including a miniature yellow rubber duck on her kitchen table.

The situations where I mentally force my hands to “activate” certain inherent energies create a sound that is similar to that of a garden hose. Perhaps this is a play on rainfall due to a very intense period of thunder and lightning in reality here yesterday (which knocked our power out for several hours) - and it is interesting that lightning and rain go together and my blue lightning is replaced by the “sound of rain” (again, in a situation that does not involve healing). I do not seem as confident here as with previous dreams of various forms of energies from my hands and I do not seem to have a specific reason for doing it. Curiously, my mother-in-law and her youngest daughter do not act aggressively and obsessively as they do in real life. The energies that flow upward from the palms of my hands seem like small and long transparent cylinders of very pale silver light, almost like a “raining upwards” effect but no feeling of wetness or impression of water. These scenes take place outside at night (or just before dawn) in a rural park-like area.

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Optimized 2 minute 30 second read.

Monday morning, 25 January 2016.

Game Frog (fascinating and rewarding real-world outcome)

Dream # 17,934-01.





I am with Zsuzsanna in an unfamiliar convenience store implied to be southwest of where we live in real life, seemingly on Electra Street (though I have not been there in waking life). The checkout counter is in the back instead of near the entrance.

Absentmindedly, I buy an incomplete computer game. At the checkout, I see a small white cardboard frog in the open box. I do not consider the cardboard prop an unlikely computer game item. The game also features a "lily pad," though it looks like a white paper crown. (See the first image if available.)

The cashier (an unfamiliar girl with protoconsciousness essence) calls the computer game's designer at his house, claiming one side of the cardboard frog "needs adjustment."

The faux frog spontaneously "activates" and hops off the counter. It may be a version of Frogger that utilizes the environment as its playing field. I consider it is programmed to cross the street and dodge traffic but would require the player to control it when functioning correctly.

I notice a cat investigating an aisle. The cat spontaneously flies backward because of a function of the game triggered by the frog's location.

I lose interest in buying the game because I do not feel like trying to maneuver an artificial frog through traffic, especially since the game is malfunctioning.

After leaving the store, Zsuzsanna and I see a different cat (unfamiliar) that could be a stray. It has long, light gray hair. I pick it up to carry home to feed it. I soon have a vague impression it may belong to someone who lives near the store.

Zsuzsanna turns left to go through the open hall of a building, through the back, as a shortcut. I assume it has apartments on both sides of the otherwise publicly accessible corridor. I do not follow her. I go around the building, hoping she stays safe, but I am mentally prepared to defend her.

Three unfamiliar men harass her as she does laundry on a porch-like area. She has a nonchalant attitude, but one of them pushes her. I am suddenly holding my Olympic barbell (without weights), and I swing it several times. I strike them all in the stomach until none of them can stand.

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After my dream, our youngest son Oliver found a toy frog and a paper crown on the sidewalk while walking between our home and the shopping mall. (See the second image if available.)

Despite my dream's narrative aligning with the usual processes resulting from REM sleep, its real-world outcome was rewarding.

Animals typically correspond with how I perceive and manage my imaginary physicality while sleeping. A frog correlates with intuitive myoclonic dynamics because its back legs kick. The computer game implication implies cognizance of this process while dreaming, as does the "crown." In contrast to leg myoclonus, abdominal myoclonus results in me striking the men's stomachs "until none of them can stand." (I am not standing while sleeping.)

Anyone with reasonable intelligence and who dreams with lucidness would recognize how predictable REM sleep dynamics predominantly influence dream content over waking-life factors. It is especially discernible here with the first's cat myoclonic response, carrying the second cat near my stomach, the association with laundry (being undressed while sleeping), and the transition to hitting the men in their stomachs.

Protoconsciousness as the store's cashier reporting the frog's problematic attributes to its unseen designer corresponds with the dynamics of my sleeping position regarding myoclonic precursors, as a store's checkout anticipates the ending of a dream or dream segment. These dynamics have influenced hundreds of previous dreams in similar ways.

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Morning of January 15, 2016. Friday.



This dream was really odd in what I first thought was random distortion, though I soon began to grasp at least three layers of meaning in a fairly short time, one layer (the most likely, I think) which I will share here.

I am making love to Zsuzsanna in an unknown and unfamiliar setting - what seems to be a fancy hotel room. The made bed (closer to the cater-cornered door than where we are) has its headboard against the wall. I am directly on the right side of it on my back on the carpeted floor, facing the opposite direction of the headboard (with my feet closest to the table and lamp near the wall). Zsuzsanna is on top, first facing one direction than facing the other (in two different events - the sense of touch and localized awareness of heat being very elevated).

I am becoming more and more aware (though not lucid) and soon notice several miniature wolves (slightly smaller than a cat) running around in midair (at about shoulder height), one directly above the pillow. These wolves are not threatening in any way, just mildly distracting. I start to wonder how many there are or if they will become less chaotic (for example, to form a straight line somewhere).

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My reasoning was almost stumped until my interpretation ability flowed naturally. What do people supposedly do when they want to sleep? Count sheep, of course…miniature imaginary sheep that hop over the would-be sleeper and his pillow and are sometimes imagined as floating in the air. This is inverted on possibly two levels. Instead of counting sheep, I am already in the dream state, so the “opposite” form appears - wolves. They are also not lined up to count, implying the dream continuing without waking (though they still may imply the waking mechanism since dreams often implement opposite “what if” ideas). There may also be an association with sheep as related to the popular non-word “sheeple” to describe unaware people. Wolves imply freedom and intelligence over the unaware conformist. However, something being in mid-air, I happen to know (by being directly told in the dream state) that it may sometimes mean “not getting enough support”, which may relate to my perception of much of humanity as not being very aware - or even interested in their own mind and dream states.

Morning of January 9, 2016. Saturday.



In my dream, I am, for whatever reason (and with a presumed but undetermined back story) on a tourist bus somewhere in South America. I am not sure of which country though the odds logically favor Brazil.

I am with my two youngest sons, though the bus is crowded and people are mostly in random seats apart from each other, including a group of girls who talk to each other from different parts of the bus. There also seem to be locals (of whatever region we are in) on the bus. My two youngest sons are the only other dream characters that are familiar in any way.

The bus is apparently on its way to the airport where people will then get to their designated flights. However, when the bus driver gets off the bus due to difficulties with a semi blocking the grassy parking area exit to the road, the bus starts to roll a bit down an embankment until it hits a large tree covered with vines. When I look out the door of the bus to the right, as I am now near the driver’s seat to see what is going on at the front of the bus, I see that the semi is actually turned on its side. One of the tourist guides, a young male (probably not even as old as twenty), who is sitting on the overturned semi-trailer, tells one of the female passengers to shut up when she reminds the bus driver that the arrival at the airport needs to be at a certain time. The person looks a lot like an obnoxious and evasive co-worker I had years ago when I worked at the Onalaska Cemetery even though I do not make this direct association during my dream.

The bus continues to remain in its position and the driver does not return. Soon, about five local South American police officers board the bus for an unknown reason. I get the impression my sons and I will miss our flight back to America (even though I live in Australia in real life). I decide we will walk to the airport even though it is likely miles away. I ask one police officer (an older chubby dark-skinned male with a mustache) if my sons and I can leave the bus and he nods to me in a friendly manner.

After I get off though, I notice my sons are not with me so I call to them and they get off the bus and join me. I had gotten off from the side door from the middle of the left side of the bus even though the door near the driver’s seat was on the right side. I do not know if there are any buses designed like this as it would not be sensible, though it may be a distortion of having been on both American and Australian buses. The police had mainly come in through the back of the bus as well as a couple from the side door.

My sons and I go down a steep embankment with high grass in a somewhat jungle-like clearing. I realize that it will be very difficult to walk to the airport (north of our location), and it looks like the bus will not move for a long time. No one has come to offer help regarding the overturned semi that still blocks the tourist bus’s path as well as police cars and a couple military vehicles. My sons and I were the only ones allowed to leave the bus for whatever reason. All of the people on the bus are considered as suspects and witnesses of an unknown crime.

I decide that I will use teleportation (even though I am not lucid) to take us all home. I close my eyes and concentrate on getting home and as I open them again, there is a shift in consciousness. I open my eyes and the three of us are in the living room on Loomis Street (where I have not been since 1994). I know my wife Zsuzsanna will be returning from the store soon.

Teleportation, flying, and telekinesis are extremely common even in my non-lucid dreams, but what gets me is the continuous recurrence of places (and unusual composites that utilize their features) where I have not been in over twenty years. Because the Loomis Street location is where many of the miraculous and unexplained links to the Source occurred, there may be some relevance there rather than as just a setting. More on this will be in another entry of this date and the difference between teleportation events and flying events relative to locations.

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This morning, I dreamt of three of my previous homes and my present one. Loomis Street, King Street, Barolin Street (Australia), and our present home.

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Morning of January 3, 2016. Sunday.



I am flying throughout my dream (with no backstory in mind) yet I do not recognize that I am dreaming at any point, which is curious.

Mostly, my actions are illogical since I probably could just fly off to my right at any time, to find another location or region to land in, but I do not want to land in any area directly below me yet (or off to the left where there seem to be more forests being cut down), where my attention is mostly held. I do not want to land because the area is a very large lumber camp, which seems to go in a continuous arc, though it is not clear what is off to my right from this arc - probably the ocean or possibly an undefined and unrendered area where I cannot “really” go or an implied barrier (divided by liminal space, though I am not lucid enough to consider this possibility as dream-based) which I cannot go past.

It seems that the lumber camp is very active in most sections and for whatever reason, I sense the workers are very hostile to intruders of any kind, including wayward flying people. After all, they are destroying the landscape, so probably would destroy anything (including people) in their path (as I do not reason they are doing it to provide for people as they likely may be). In one way, it seems like a miniature landscape (of about one-quarter scale), but this seems a possible distortion of my perspective. I do not fly close enough to the ground at any point to see that much.

There is another distortion, something almost abstract but related to having to write something in a journal or notepad (while flying?) while just outside the perimeter of this range though which causes additional frustration. My flight path is continuously aligned to the semicircular lumber camp, which seems to go on like this for a considerable distance. This of course makes no sense, as if such was the case, I would be flying in a circle yet I seem to be going in only one direction in my dream and the land features below are consistently different as well.

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There may be some sort of association with circumventing and circumference, as this was one of those dreams that seemed to “self-title” itself after waking, something I have experienced fairly often since around the age of eight.

Night of January 2, 2016. Saturday.



In my dream, I am in a field on a sunny afternoon, just outside of the more utilized land of a farm. An unknown male walks along carrying an acoustic guitar, from my left to my right, getting slightly closer but not regarding me in any way.

Inside the guitar is Fox Mulder (David Duchovny from “The X-Files”) looking out through the sound hole and with his fingers (both hands) out and gripping the bottom edge of the sound hole. He looks slightly worried or perhaps is thinking of a way to get out without being noticed. I cannot be certain if he trusts the person carrying the guitar or not. There is no sound; just a sense of curious movement. There do not appear to be strings on the guitar, at least normally arranged, only because I have a clear view of Mulder’s face and his fingers.

This of course is beyond ridiculous; a real oddity. A human being could in no way fit inside a guitar, let alone be so effortlessly carried one-handed by another person (as the guitar moves in a way as it is being carried that would indicate no other weight inside it). However, it seems fairly likely that the guitar represents a casket in this particular case, especially as my father’s headstone has an engraving of a guitar on it, so this is probably a surreal rendering of my thoughts or concerns about mortality. Fox Mulder, highly skilled and having experienced the unexplained, is always “looking for answers” in a world of skeptics (who are often either wrong or instigating a coverup), much like myself on some levels. Since the guitar does not seem to have strings, that is another clue concerning mortality and the inability to “make music” (or to live).

Morning of January 2, 2016. Saturday.



I am sitting in a very small waiting room it seems, featureless other than benches built into the wall on each of two opposite sides (for the length of the wall) though I am not sure what the waiting room is for - possibly a school of some kind. The walls, floor, and ceiling (and even the benches) are white. Curiously, I do not recall seeing a door on either my left or right even though a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna somehow walks into the little room from my right. (I am seemingly not concerned about there being no doors in the room.) She is wearing black slacks and a black top with white polka dots. She sits across the room facing me.

I reach over and lift her top a few inches with my left hand (and to her right) and ask her “what sort of belt is that?” not being sure I would actually see a belt prior to lifting her blouse. I am thinking either real leather or synthetic but she only smiles and does not say anything. The belt is also black.

After a short time, a 1950s song (probably what you would call a novelty song since singers do not usually blow raspberries while they are singing) plays loudly and suddenly (from an unseen source though mostly from above and behind my right shoulder), one I have not heard since possibly 1978. It goes “black slacks (vocal raspberry-like effect) black slacks…” by Joe Bennett And The Sparkletones. The last time I heard it was when I was doing a break-in cassette (of the type Dickie Goodman produced) of about a whole hour - and possibly he used it as well (a good “answer” to “what was he wearing?”) The main video on Google is amusing, as they are wearing white slacks while performing it.

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It was rather strange to have an old song I have not heard in years “break in” to my dream like that from an unseen source; some sort of totally unexpected nostalgia, perhaps (not for the song, which I consider absurd albeit vaguely amusing), but from when I used to make break-in recordings for my classmates and a couple relatives. The room represents the real-time liminal space between sleeping and waking. Zsuzsanna’s presence in this case might be a factor of shared dreaming.

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Morning of January 1, 2016. Friday.

Dream #: 17,910-05. Reading time: 2 min 27 sec.



My computer is in our lounge room in our present home instead of its location in our front room. My desk is shorter in length. I face our front door as I sit at my desk. There are two narrow windows on each side of the door (not a real-life feature). They match the door’s height.

Everything seems fine at first. I contemplate my Windows 95 desktop theme, which features shish kabobs, picnic tables, barbecues, and outdoor scenery. The shish kabobs are pictured on the taskbar, as it seems that each represents a different button. There is a sense of nostalgia as if I am looking at a desktop theme that I had not used in a few years and I feel very relaxed and content.

Eventually, now and then, I notice two human silhouettes looking through the right window near our front door. They lean to their left and look through our window from our porch. It seems to go on for a long time, but I am not concerned. Our front door is shut and locked. (In reality, we have a screen door and a wooden one.) Later, they walk in, with no explanation. Four unfamiliar, unknown people walk into our house. There are three males and a female. Two seem to be from the military. At least one carries an AK-47. One of the men is wearing green and yellow camouflage.

They assume that we are involved in espionage, though it is unknown of which country or government. They wander around in our house to look for documents that might provide them with evidence. It seems suspicious to me that someone representing authority would bring an AK-47 into a residential home with children. They look through piles of mathematics and English worksheets as if signs of espionage might be there. I assume that if they do not find anything they might plant evidence or make something up in their report.

My dream ends as I shout at the four people. Zsuzsanna tells me I was talking in my sleep at the time, which is an uncommon event.

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It is a typical home invader dream, unrelated to real life. It has a basis in how my dream self perceives the reticular formation’s mediation and modulation of the dream state. It often occurs when there is environmental noise detected, and that creates an intruder scenario to cause more alertness to wake the dreamer whether or not there is an intruder present. Being at the computer is a factor of the emerging consciousness.

Dreams typically render everything incorrectly. Here are some examples from this dream. One, the wrong door is present, with the fictitious windows as a preconscious factor to imply it is looking in on me. Two, my computer is in the wrong room. (My conscious self identity is not viable). Three, my desk is different and smaller (neural energies lesser in dream self status than conscious self identity). Four, unknown people phase through the wall or door even though the door is shut and locked (awareness of real-life environmental ambiance that could be fatal if someone is intruding). Five, I do not use Windows 95 and have not had a copy of it for years. Six, our screen door is missing (not existing in my dream self’s “memory” at all) to simplify the implications and commencing of the intruder scenario. Ultimately, if you think your dream’s environment is realistic or accurate enough, there is less of a chance, even subliminally, of waking.

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