Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 31, 2017. Tuesday.



I am comfortably seated at what seems to be the counter of a dimly lit bar. There is not much setting detail and I am not aware of any other people but the bartender. I am mostly only aware of the view in front of me and somewhat to the right. The bartender is unfamiliar. He is a male of casual dress in perhaps his late forties and remains standing behind the counter at all times.

I have coins and tokens in each hand, probably only a few in my left hand; at least a dozen or more in my right hand. I eventually look at them and see that most of the coins and tokens are different. The coins are all possibly from other countries. I am aware that they are probably not worth much, but I enjoy collecting them. One of the tokens, with a solid form, appears to be for a national park. It has a design on it that shows shrubbery and a forest area with a lake in the background.

It seems that I can attain more coins and tokens by gambling. (I seem to “remember” this without any other details.) I hand the bartender two similar coins. I am not sure if he is going to use one at a time, or both at the same time. He seems to hesitate near some sort of small device on the wall. It is almost as if I am exercising some sort of subtle mental will regarding his decision. He eventually places two coins in the device. Several coins and tokens flow out at the bottom as if automatically (with no other action; for example, no slots or seeming gambling feature or functions as such). He hands them to me without emotion or comment. I am glad to have a few more coins and tokens, some of which are different than the others I have, even though I again reflect that they are not that valuable other than as a collectible interest.

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Morning of January 30, 2017. Monday.



All the members of the Waltons family each have singular kiosks set up along the roadside in a straight line, adjacent to an old warehouse. It is a back road in an unknown region (but is probably meant to be Walton’s mountain). Each of the Waltons is selling something different. Mother Walton is selling handmade potholders and oven mitts. Grandma Walton is selling preserves in jars. (She is at the last kiosk on the left.) John Boy Walton is apparently attempting to sell the books of his he once had printed from a subsidy publisher he was victimized by. I am not sure what the others are selling (though Jim Bob is seemingly with slingshots).

It is nighttime eventually, and rather dark out. No one else but me (other than the Waltons) had been in the area. A very small meteor comes down and hits mother Walton’s kiosk but does not seem to do much damage. Another one just misses Grandma Walton’s stand.

I tell them that the meteors are coming down in a particular pattern. They do not at all seem to be concerned about the falling meteors even with the two close calls. I predict where the next one will hit and I am correct. I go and put the contents of the small meteorite in a large transparent glass container.

Looking closely into the container, holding it up, I see a few bits of rock. I also see a curious orange glow on the right side of the container. Near the center of the container is an odd structure that looks cylindrical and constructed of green glowing glass shards that are long and thin but also resemble a burning cigarette (other than the embers being green).

After a short time, there are two oversized beetles in the container, bigger than my hands. One is a golden Christmas beetle, the other resembling a green weevil mixed with a rhino beetle. I am thinking of how they came from another planet and somehow survived within the meteor (even though they seemed to rapidly grow from out of the embers), though I consider how there is only one of each (though each is beautiful in its own way). I am also thinking that they are too different to reproduce since they are seemingly different species. No sooner do I hold that thought for a moment when they start to mate. The shiny green beetle climbs atop the golden one and they remain mating until my dream ends.

The Waltons, especially Grandma and John Boy (who are standing the closest to me) stare at the event, not speaking.

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Morning of January 23, 2017. Monday.



I become aware of activities I must do for a movie being made that is about a wealthy German family (in Germany and on Germany’s side when the war starts) during World War II (about as far from my real-life associations as possible). I am a boy actor, probably around ten years of age.

One part of the set is reminiscent of the Loomis Street house, another somewhat suggestive of the southwest Cubitis bedroom. Still another part (in the last segment) seems somewhat like the kitchen of our present home. I have no coherent familiarity with my real-life status other than during the last part of the waking events.

There is a scene where I have to walk from one area in the house, go outside, and then go back into the house into a different room and look in a mirror (though the mirror curiously seems to be on an outside wall of the house that faces the backyard). I am aware that I only have a white shirt on. This does not bother me at all because I assume that all the scenes presently being filmed are from the waist up. I am satisfied with my appearance at this point.

At another point, I absentmindedly enter the room that is somewhat like the southwest Cubitis bedroom. An unknown female is there and sitting on the side of a bed, apparently on a cigarette break. On the left side of her face are parallel indentations, almost like the map of where a few stream beds converge (my actual thought within my dream in this scene). She wants to be alone at this time.

There is a scene where a fictional relative is going into the military at the start of the war. I am standing outside (seemingly at the south side of the Loomis Street house) between at least two adults (and clearly aware of my smaller, shorter body and status as a child actor), an unfamiliar female on my right and at least one unfamiliar male on my left. The camera is on us (filming from east of us). I feel “perfect” as I turn my head slowly to the right, to briefly acknowledge a crow in the sky behind me (which is flying north), making sure part of my left profile is filmed (for at least a second or two) and that the angle of my face at each point is “perfect”. I focus with clear intent to keep my stoic expression “perfect”.

Eventually, my dream starts to lose cohesion and I am slowly more aware of at least some of my real-life history. Still, I am writing a letter to inform my sister Marilyn (deceased) that I am going to be in a Hollywood movie, indicating some of the details.

In the last segment, I look in a mirror again. My face is becoming more and more unusual, almost like the classic Frankenstein monster. I have patches of green skin on the left side of my face. It is very wrinkled in that one area, though the wrinkles are in long straight vertical lines. There are what appear to be stone-like features peaking out from parts of my forehead and cheeks. The “stones” are of various colors and textures but are likely meant to be some sort of oversized acne.

Eventually, I realize my left eye is bulging and I touch it to see that it is like a small plastic dome that is slightly cracked more to the left. (Oddly, I can still see clearly from it within my dream even though it is almost sealed shut.) This is because a crack in my left cheek had reached its perimeter.

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Losing teeth dreams have nothing on this level of dream-self cessation (which otherwise usually have no “interpretation”).

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Morning of January 23, 2017. Monday.



I am wandering around near an area near the shopping mall. There are a number of people who are involved in some sort of publicity relating to Godzilla and a particular store (or perhaps the entire mall). I walk through the hall of the shopping mall at one point and I am annoyed by seeing three people approaching me who are all in unusual oversized Godzilla costumes (though a few other people are in human-sized Godzilla costumes), though not really looking like any typical movie version of Godzilla. They are about twice as tall as me so I assume that they are wearing stilts and have features within their costumes for more control of the larger arms and such. They do not really regard me directly though I know they are there to annoy people with some sort of promotional gimmick.

One Godzilla costume is meant to convey the idea of rocky skin (somewhat like the Thing from “Fantastic Four”). Another is a purplish color with polka dots. One has mixed elements of lion and clown, with a sort of mane that seems akin to a wide clown outfit collar. I have an uncomfortable feeling that it will be difficult to shop anywhere in the region with all these annoying promoters.

There is one scene where I see someone (unknown) watching a Godzilla movie on a narrow wall between two hallways, but the man playing Godzilla is somehow directly talking to the viewer. I get the impression he can even stick his head out of the implied screen unless some sort of holographic technology is involved. (In this case, the Godzilla head is about the size of a human head, unlike the large costumes.) I wonder if the viewer is going to allow himself to be attacked or “eaten” for entertainment purposes.

I later find myself in a beautiful area near a marsh, eventually within a forest with dense shrubbery. I begin to relax and explore. However, one of the people who are wearing Godzilla costumes comes to where I am, though does not find me. He looks near a large shrub but cannot see me. This time, the costume seems about three times bigger than me but the size does not bother me (and does not even seem a factor).

Finally, I focus on the nature of gravity. Water seems to run uphill. This is very puzzling. Josh Holloway (the actor from “Lost”) is present. Some small rivulets of water that flow upwards on the wall form a tree-like pattern. I see something very unusual and point to it. At first, I think it might be more water moving upwards along a wall but it turns out to be the glow of the plastic wrap over a new toy cap gun still on the card and somehow stuck on the wall.

Josh is also apparently annoyed by all the people in weird Godzilla costumes. Several more (unknown) people appear and we explore a large public bathroom (which may be abandoned). I look at the sink and notice water flowing upwards in the side of the basin. Later, we manage to evade a person in a Godzilla costume as he only looks around in the first section of the bathroom.

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Morning of January 20, 2017. Friday.



I am in kind of a groggy state within the dream state though I am clearly aware that I am in our bed, though my head is in the opposite direction as to how we sleep in reality. I am on my left side facing south. Near my head is what I perceive to be some sort of writings relating possibly to educational tasks and scholastic writing.

Near the center of our bed, where I see our mattress has no sheet over it, are a couple toy earth movers. It seems they may actually be down in the mattress a little bit (possibly due to a tear in the mattress material) but the toys do not move on their own at any point. I do not move much and I am aware that Zsuzsanna is standing near our bed.

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Astoundingly, this very basic dream sign inclusive of a dreaming metaphor (directly and redundantly symbolic of exploring the unconscious or sorting through memories while asleep) has never happened in this particular way to my knowledge. The journal and writing is probably more so related to my dream journal.

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Morning of January 17, 2017. Tuesday.



In my goal to strengthen my online journal against the fallacy of “dream interpretation”, I have, to the best of my ability, clarified this entry and recompiled the underlying meaning and root influences.

I am alone in an unfamiliar car in late morning, though which is implied to be my dream self’s car. I am parked near the center of the parking lot of Skogen’s IGA in La Crosse, logically facing south towards the store’s entrance. Although I am in America, the driver’s side is on the right. There are several other parked cars around, all with people in them. (Both the driver’s side being on the wrong side and all the cars in the parking lot illogically having people in them are dream-state indicators. Erroneous dream-state indicators of this type are so common, it seems to be a natural dividing mechanism to separate dream-state memory from real-life memory).

After a few minutes of looking around as I am seated behind the steering wheel (with no backstory as to whether there was intent to go into the store or to leave and drive elsewhere), an unknown male erratically drives a car around in the parking lot. There is machine gun fire from the car and someone (in the car) is hollering about a race. In the car are two males who are dressed as 1920s gangsters. It seems that everyone is being challenged to get away and to apparently hide somewhere. I am not sure if there is a literal finish line.

I decide to drive away as quickly as possible. I go down an alley which is seemingly the one behind the Loomis Street house. I drive into a large garage and get out of the car though sit near it in the semidarkness. It seems I may be safe here.

After a time, there is activity just outside in the alley. The gangsters are looking for the people who had driven away from the parking lot. I hear objects falling over just outside the garage but I remain still. I do not think they will find me.

Eventually, I look up and see a large circular hole in the ceiling of the garage and a giant human eye, atypically rendered in black and white, peers down through the hole. The eye and its movement has somewhat of a slight blurry effect as if a giant television was just above the hole in the ceiling, facing downwards. There are even a couple lines of “static” as the eye moves side to side as if in REM sleep, though it remains open, unblinking. I am not sure if I will be seen but I do not feel afraid. This surreal situation does not trigger any sense of it being impossible.

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Step-by-step explanation for the inexperienced:

In my dreams, sitting in a car in a parking lot (or simply being in a parking lot) is a biological indicator of being in bed and typically represents the last stage of a sleep cycle, the subliminal “waiting period” for the increase in beta neural activity (13–30 Hz). This has been validated from the study of hundreds of parallel examples since early childhood. There is no reason to assume that the parking lot is “symbolic” of anything in real life, which does not even make any sense other than perhaps to people falling prey to the Barnum effect of “dream interpretation”.

My dream self typically runs away simply out of the lack of enthusiasm over waking up (more obvious in this case as I subliminally knew what being in the parking lot meant even though my dream self did not), though which is random and completely unrelated to how I view sleep or waking in general (and after all, every day is different). My dream self typically runs away from the more dominant preconscious (until the emergent consciousness is linked and activated), which most often has absolutely nothing in common with me or of any relevance to my waking life. It is not known whether the noise outside the garage, another form of liminal space, was based on real environmental noise, but it seems likely, especially as the REM symbolism was activated right afterwards.

The very last scene, an intriguing indicator of being in REM sleep, was directly influenced by the “Don’t Open Till Doomsday” episode of “The Outer Limits” television series, which I had not seen in years and first watched as a child while I drifted in and out of sleep and lucid and semi-lucid dream states. (This was a major influence that heightened my interest in various levels of consciousness.) The episode, on one level, is a perfect metaphor for the conscious self subliminally “watching” the fictional dream self. In fact, my dream even included the black-and-white television imagery from the original show, even including the static.

Finally, there is another layer of meaning. In this case, it is almost like an analogy to my life. In order to viably clarify it, I must quote part of an original summary of the episode: “In 1929, a pair of young newlyweds receives a mysterious box-like object wrapped as a wedding gift with a cryptic label reading ‘Don’t Open Till Doomsday’. Unbeknownst to his bride, the bridegroom is zapped by a beam of light emanating from this object when he removed it from the wrapping, and seemingly disappears out of existence. In 1964, an eloping couple arrives at the house in the hopes of using it as a honeymoon spot, now a half-derelict mansion owned by Mrs. Kry, an eccentric old woman who turns out to be the aforesaid bride, driven to insanity after her husband disappeared. After the younger bride herself disappears inside the box, it is revealed that Mrs. Kry has been luring young couples to her house, in the hope of 'trading’ them for her lost bridegroom, with an alien intelligence residing inside the box.”

How does this relate to me and my life? The box represents the fictional and contained form of a dream limited by a total lack of understanding of dreams (that nearly all “interpreters” exhibit), or believing that a dream relates only to current real-life status. This is like an alternate timeline (in metaphor) of what could have happened if I (or Zsuzsanna) had believed in “interpretation” (“receiving the box”) when I was growing up. That is, I would not have ultimately learned that the “mystery girl” of my dreams, rather than being “symbolic” or of solely being another aspect of myself, was actually literally precognitive of my eventual joining with my “mystery girl” Zsuzsanna. This is pure truth.

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Curious marker: This dream was on the morning of January 17, 2017. The episode of “The Outer Limits” that influenced it was from season 1, episode 17.

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Morning of January 16, 2017. Monday.



There is some sort of conspiracy related to a hospital serving as an “airport” for certain flights, this being unknown to the passengers. Apparently, they experiment on the passengers or harvest their organs.

There is a scene where I seem to be on an airplane, though I also see an unrealistic degree of additional details outside the airplane. The airplane lands on a boulevard near the hospital (in an unknown location), seemingly without any traffic mishaps. It even taxis into a special hangar inside the hospital.

I somehow phase through the airplane even though I am aware that everyone else on it has gone into some sort of suspended animation (obvious autosymbolism for being asleep and dreaming). I am in the hangar and see several other people who work at the hospital approaching the airplane. They seem happy that a lot of passengers are in it. They do not even notice me at first and by the time they do, I am almost out into the hall. They start to chase me but I close the door and lock it behind me, the act of which immediately makes my dream much more vivid. (This is called “doorway reinduction”, as doors are usually autosymbolic of the implied exit point of a dream, though I have used this knowledge all my life to sustain and reinduce my dream state awareness.) The lock is a rectangular part that extends only a short way out from the face of the doorknob (by almost its full diameter), which I rotate to the left as I close the door (dream state reinduction orientation as I sleep on my left side). They cannot continue to follow me.

Later, I notice unfamiliar patients in beds in the halls. Some of them join me as I then decide to leave the hospital rather than create any confrontations. I see doctors talking in the hall. I see at least one police officer, but I am not sure if he is corrupt and working with the hospital. Rather than going down one hall where we could get caught, I take one on the left of two choices, where there are no people who would question us or follow us. It seems to be a very simple evasion. We all get to the end of the hall and are able to escape.

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This is a very basic “return flight” type dream with the same overall patterns as always; the subliminal anticipation of the waking shift (which sometimes includes a falling sensation and which creates precursors that include a number of different flight symbols, though which also include elevators and staircases), the liminal space of the hall, liminal awareness of being asleep (a bed as a dream state indicator), and a doorway at the end of the hall to exit my dream though after having sustained its length a little bit by locking the first door. There is no direct preconscious factor here though it is a rather sustained unusual dream just for being based on vestibular system correlation. The organ harvesting was related to a movie we saw recently (“Inhale” from 2010). Still, it seems to imply that the collective unconscious is “experimenting” on the collective conscious, the logic being that the sleeping passengers would represent conscious selves sleeping and the hospital staff being minds active within the dream state, though I suppose it could also just be a simple metaphor for lucidity and how I am often lucid in dreams while many others are not (though I myself am not viably lucid at any point in this dream other than having a degree of the typical liminal dream control, that is, control of the dream state without in-dream awareness that I am dreaming, though my second attempt to reinduce and sustain my dream instead results in slowly waking by way of doorway waking autosymbolism, which has happened in childhood even when choosing the left door).

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Morning of January 14, 2017. Saturday.



I am in La Crosse and in the house next door to the King Street boarding house. There is some sort of party going on, possibly a high school graduation party, and it is at night. Zsuzsanna is there but as a teenager though is the only person I recognize. See seems a bit tired and I ask her if she wants to sleep in my bed (which turns out to be at an unknown residence but implied to be where I live). It feels as if we have not been together as a married couple yet, though she is passive towards me.

We walk northwest from the house until we come to my fictional red 1922 Phaeton (a “dream car” that has not featured in my dreams for quite some time) in a commercial district. Its appearance is different as if perhaps an older model and its top is down. Curiously, there does not seem to be a steering wheel, though this does not serve to be a deterrent. I tell her to get in the car and I sit in the area behind where the steering wheel should be. As is often the case, I have difficulty in trying to fit in the vehicle. Still, after some adjustments (where the car even seems to expand slightly), it works out okay.

We end up in an unfamiliar bedroom. A playful lion cub is present and so is a puppy (though the puppy of which I do not see much and which does not go onto the bed as the lion cub does). The lion cub makes small messes over the entire bed (to a very unrealistic extent) and I tell Zsuzsanna that I have to take the top blanket off and I am somewhat annoyed. It does not seem unusual to have either a puppy or a lion cub in my (fictional) house.

• The appearance of the red 1922 Phaeton goes all the way back to early childhood, when I dreamt my father was a car.
• I have not been on King Street since January 1994. I did not know any people who lived in the house next to the boarding house though I did paint some of the inside for the owner.
• The lion is a recurring waking prompt and coalescence symbol (as it can swallow the dreamer back into whole consciousness) and is also a type of dream sign (as from the 1897 “Sleeping Gypsy” painting by Henri Rousseau). Here however, it is only a cub, but the obvious dream sign of the bed already serves as a waking transition factor. This specific rendering is a connection with having to wake up to use the bathroom.
• The missing steering wheel is an invitation to lucidity (and implies liminal dream state awareness), whereby the car is my dream “vehicle” as an extension of my physical body (which is also called a “vehicle”) in sleep but without an active conscious self awareness as in normal lucid dreams to “steer” my dream with a more viable conscious choice (though liminal dream control occurs with me very often - I am just not aware I am dreaming). I am still able to resolve the beginning intent to a point. A car with no steering wheel also correlates with vestibular system dynamics and the liminal awareness of the inability to control the physical body while sleeping.
• Even though bed dream signs are quite common in my dreams (and always have been since early childhood), I rarely pick up on them directly for active lucidity, though a bed implies the waking space of a dream (liminal awareness of being asleep).

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Morning of January 11, 2017. Wednesday.



I find myself with my wife Zsuzsanna. We are sitting on a small beach-like area and are outside enjoying the nighttime scenery. However, to our left is an unknown male and female in their bed in some sort of distorted and bilocated corner of a bedroom (though every other dream aspect implies we are outside). Even though they are in bed, they are also working as tourist guides (and seemingly are a married couple in their late twenties).

Looking out over the ocean, I see a small island. This small island is supposedly a part of Germany. I see the Reichstag building, which directly faces us. Oddly, right behind this, is Big Ben, though only about a third as tall as it should be. I am clearly aware that this is an amazing sight that can only be appreciated from our present location. We somehow see a feature of Germany, and right behind it, a feature of the UK (which is of course ridiculous, but I am only vaguely puzzled by the sight). We continue to appreciate this beautiful scene. I sit on Zsuzsanna’s left, holding her hand. The imagery is very vivid and I watch the motions of the ocean’s surface. Other than the tourist guides in their bed, who gave us a brochure in the first segment, we are the only people present. The moonlight on the water is beautiful.

I consider that I am not fully certain of where we are. Again, I know that the little island is a part of Germany though we ourselves are apparently nowhere near Germany (even though we could probably swim to the islands from where we are sitting). Just beyond that is the UK which is also a tiny island with Big Ben being the only discernible UK feature at this distance. I reason that we are probably either in Hawaii or California though this is not certain.

I start to realize that we have traveled from the future into this past, which is 1969. In fact, it must be July 24, 1969 due to what happens next (at least in part). The tourist guides do not seem to be all that alarmed by this fact and simply hand us another brochure. There is a short conversation about the differences between certain landmarks in 1969 and 2016 (and thus my dream self is not aware it is 2017).

A helicopter flies overhead in the night sky in the opposite direction from where the bilocated bed is. From this helicopter falls the Apollo 11 spacecraft, its parachutes immediately opening, the craft seeming a bit larger than it should be. I expect that it will probably explode and it does. It explodes into a massive fireworks display, debris flying everywhere over a dense forest. (This makes no sense of course, as the spacecraft actually came through Earth’s atmosphere, not dropped from a helicopter.)

From the debris of Apollo 11 in the dense isolated forest beyond (to our right) comes two white robotic Etch-a-Sktech-like devices. They somehow end up being near Zsuzsanna and I even though they have no visible legs of any kind yet came a fair distance. The ocean water level goes down by a fair amount. I am wary of one of the devices even though they are nearly identical. Even though I know that one is ours, I reason that the other belongs to the tourist guides and may have some sort of security function that does not want people from the future in the vicinity. However, I then begin to realize that 1969 probably does not have the technology to detect people from the future even though our device is detecting these people from the past and recognizing the setting as 1969. The original scene over the ocean becomes some sort of large computer screen featuring some sort of spreadsheet imagery. The setting seems to have more of an indoor feel at this point.

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• The common dream state indicator of the bilocated bed, especially the tourist guide couple, are an obvious play on “traveling while asleep”, a direct reference to dreaming. The other married couple are a projection of Zsuzsanna and I being asleep and dreaming at the time.
• The clock tower (Big Ben, which refers to the bell, which symbolizes the wake-up call) is a more dominant circadian rhythms feature, “overseeing the water” (sleep cycle: During sleep, the flow of cerebrospinal fluid in the brain increases dramatically, washing away harmful waste proteins that build up between brain cells during waking hours). A tower also symbolizes emergent consciousness (the conscious self identity being above the fictional dream setting).
• The ocean waters lower (sleeping and the dream state ebbs since water represents the dynamics of sleep in real time), the setting slowly transforming from outdoors to indoors; a typical waking transition.
• The return flight feature explodes in this case by my (non-lucid) expectation, though this implies a thread of instinctual dream control.
• The preconscious is here a threatening white robotic Etch-a-Sketch that apparently can teleport, which is about as weird as it gets. Even so, it (and the spreadsheet) is a reminder of conscious self identity, as only the conscious self with its critical thinking skills can create and utilize viable technology and perceive written communication for a sustained time period.
• The Apollo 11 parachutes are a type of dream sign and are analogous to pillowcases, as I sometimes am irritated with trying to fit a pillowcase back on a pillow prior to sleeping or sometimes wake up with the pillowcase off.

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Morning of January 10, 2017. Tuesday.



After exploring an unknown but interesting region in an unfamiliar rural area, I eventually start thinking about fishing. It seems to be late afternoon. I find an area where several others are fishing, mostly males in their thirties. There is a building on one longer side of a pond with a pathway just wide enough to walk on. The rectangular pond is about three-fourths a city block in length though only about half that length at the ends.

When I decide to fish, I see that there are too many bobbers on the water’s surface near the side I first go to. As I walk along the pond’s length near the building, I see bobber after bobber on the surface (as well as the trailing fishing line) and a number of fishing poles along the bank that extend over the entire length of the pond on that side, the setups of which apparently belong to the group of three men who are sitting at the end of the pond. This annoys me but I do not become very angry.

I walk back to where the other three males are (even though it would have made more sense to keep going around the corner to the other longer side of the pond to search for a space to fish). After a short time, that longer side of the pond I had just walked back along seems clear (though there is neither a memory nor enough time implied to have passed for the men to have actually reeled it all in or to have gathered up their equipment). There are only a couple areas where bobbers and line are still visible on that side. For a short time, I walk in midair above the water (not on the water as in certain past dreams) to get past a corner. I do this without thinking it to be unusual.

I sit down to fish. I have a soft plastic jig body (shad-style soft plastic lure) and slide it onto a hook. An unknown male to my right tells me that I am not doing it by the proper standards. I take it off and slowly put it back onto the hook and he seems satisfied. “You know the fish in here aren’t that big?” he asks me. I nod, regardless of not knowing anything about the area. Still, when I look into the water, I can clearly see under the surface. There are several very large walleye and carp. I intend on catching a walleye.

After I cast my line, I see that I am almost immediately snagged on something. It looks like a large Ragdoll cat swimming under the water. I try to get the hook disentangled from its fur, which is along the side of its body near the middle. An unfamiliar boy of about ten wades out and is eventually able to take the hook out. I am not sure if the cat belongs to him or if he is there to perform a service (as an actual parks and recreation employee). The cat remains swimming in the water. I notice the boy seems to be dressed as a boy scout or parks employee, so may actually work here.

I ask the male who is still to my right about the “other area to fish” with the pretense of me being familiar with the area. I hint at it being a place beginning with “m” and pretending not to remember the full name. He asks me if I mean K-Mart, and I tentatively nod. I then ask him if it is legal to fish there presently. It seems it is.

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• Fishing, a common dream event for me since early childhood, represents the subliminal desire of the limited dream self to bring the emergent consciousness to the surface in order to wake or at least increase awareness. Water symbolizes sleep and a fish on the line is the downgraded conscious self identity developing coherence (often increasing in size and strength) when being caught.
• This is more specifically confirmed as a self-initiated waking precursor due to the behavior of the personified preconscious. Typically, the preconscious is only hostile when the personified subconscious (dream self) does not want to wake or (metaphorically) initiate waking. As fishing is an act of deliberately seeking the emergent consciousness, the preconscious is passive here. He even helps me continue my task without aggressiveness or treating me strangely.
• This is more specifically confirmed as a self-initiated waking precursor due to the behavior of the personified preconscious. Typically, the preconscious is only hostile when the personified subconscious (dream self) does not want to wake or (metaphorically) initiate waking. As fishing is an act of deliberately seeking the emergent consciousness, the preconscious is passive here. He even helps me continue my task without aggressiveness or treating me strangely.
• The personified preconscious rarely appears in fishing dreams (again, due to what fishing metaphorically represents in real time). He only appears here due to the delay in the waking transition, which was caused by my own hesitancy and non-lucid dream control in creating the additional bobbers and too many random additional "lines of communication".
• The cat in the water is a factor of the circadian rhythms of nighttime (and the dream state during a particular sleep cycle) and has also appeared as the final waking prompt in past dreams though is underwater here based on the time of my dream (after sunrise). Catching the cat would be akin to enhancing the essence of night (or night-based thoughts), in contrast to the “correct” waking goal.
• The reference to K-Mart is a mixed waking prompt and dream sign, since I associate K-Mart with clothes and getting up and getting dressed.

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Morning of January 8, 2017. Sunday.



I shift into the clarity of the opening scene of my first dream of the cycle. It is the typical water induction. I find myself driving down a street in an unfamiliar location. There is firstly a sense that it may be near the ocean though this association changes after a short time. It seems to be early afternoon.

The street is lightly flooded and it is raining, but the rain stops eventually. I look to my left wondering if Zsuzsanna will appear for a blissful connection. After a time, there are small geyser-like formations that rise from the surface of the water. Eventually, I even see what appears to be a palm tree made of upwards flowing water to my left, on or near the boulevard.

Even though I have at least one dream of this nature every night, I am only documenting this one due to it having an atypical feature of the palm tree made of flowing water.

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Water symbolizes sleep and the real-time dynamics of sleep and has always been my most common form of dream state induction. In fact, I often hear the (hypnagogic) sound of water flowing when not even fully asleep yet (sometimes natural settings, sometimes related to bathrooms or showers). (Not only that, if I am listening to a recording while falling asleep, I hear a hypnagogic “gloop” sound at various pitches and distances, which sounds much like a pebble breaking the surface of a body of water. This has been the case for over fifty years and directly translates as sleep induction being slightly disrupted by real-life audio.) It stems from the fact that a person spends the first ninth months of their existence sleeping within “water” (perceived as such) and is also related to circadian rhythms and tidal factors (or at least the analogy of tidal factors - as water getting lower over time is a common waking transition for me). Clear water would relate to being more within the natural sleep cycle. Muddy water relates to outer ranges of the sleep cycle, as I discovered as a child. It is probably the most consistent and “reliable” dream feature I have ever experienced.

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Morning of January 5, 2017. Thursday.



My wife and family and I are living back on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. When the mail goes, there are several items. I firstly focus on a large package.

The package turns out to contain a book we did not order or expect to get, possibly because of being members of a book-of-the-month club. It is a very large and thick book with shiny gilded pages with the title of “Return of the Fairy Tale”. It seemingly includes fairy tales as well as poems and folk tales. I read one poem as our youngest daughter listens (though I cannot recall its content). I am not sure if we should keep the book as I seem to remember that Zsuzsanna has an older edition of the same book. We look for it and it is found near the bottom of her wardrobe. I ask her if we should keep the new edition we just received and it seems that we will. The older edition has a slightly different cover but is about the same size.

After this, I go onto our porch to look at our other mail. There are two postcards from Margaret. In one, she starts off by talking about seeing her “pale face” looking back at her (from a mirror I assume). She writes that she is sorry to hear about my sister (Marilyn).

Apparently, I had also written to a man in India of whom I had not written to in over twenty years. I had asked him about his address (which makes no sense because if I did not know his address he likely would not have gotten my letter). On his postcard, in somewhat sloppy handwriting, he only writes:

“I do not remember my other address. I would like a comfy.”

I am not sure what he means by “comfy”; if he means a footrest or some sort of apparel. (In real life years ago he had asked me to send him auto repair books and I did not have any.)

I also notice a couple loose letters which are older love letters from Zsuzsanna though I am puzzled as to why they are with the recent mail. One letter includes a couple drawings. I had been sitting on the left end of the couch on the porch (liminal space) during this last segment.

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• The fifteen rupee tiger stamp is a sublimated coalescence prompt (as a tiger can swallow the dream self back into full consciousness) and additionally, mail usually symbolizes communication between the dream self and either the conscious self identity or the collective unconscious. Even so, and even containing the same dreaming and waking metaphors (and overall meaning) since earliest childhood, this dream’s rendering is unique.
• Regardless of the nature of the book, a book usually links to conscious self identity (and critical thinking skills that are not wholly feasible in non-lucid dreams). Gilded pages relate to dawning awareness and sentience (as sunbeams coming in through a bedroom window).
• The other book being in the wardrobe is a dream sign, as Zsuzsanna gets clothes from her wardrobe shortly after waking.
• Most dreams, when waking prompts are not more direct or jolting, are to subliminally inform the dreamer to wake as in this case. This same “call to waking” (waking transition with waking metaphors) can be seen in tens of thousands of my dreams documented and studied over fifty years, and in very specific layered (redundant) ways (and often “no-brainers” that I easily grasped as a child).
• Even “comfy” can be considered a dream sign, as it can refer to pillows and being in bed.
• Even the line about not remembering the other address is a direct reference to the amnesic nature of the personified subconscious (dream self).

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Dream #NYMC53

Morning of January 1, 2017. Sunday.

Reading time: 50 sec. Readability score: 80.



I first focus on a big eagle when I am within a tunnel in a cavern, looking out through the entrance when farther inside. It seems to be an influence from making an image from a 1968 dream that had a giant bird that resembles an eagle. It seems to fly towards the entrance yet the distance does not seem to change.

I see a clear pool of water. Something that looks like a snake is swimming in the water, but it soon seems to be a belt somehow moving on its own. Eventually, there seem to be at least a dozen identical venomous serpents that I have no concern about in my lucidity. They are like small coral snakes. They slither in and out of porous rocks. I am eventually aware of Zsuzsanna.

There is a scene where I see an unknown young girl in a plaid dress (yellows and greens). Down past her knees, she seems to be growing out of another girl, and that girl, in turn, grew out of another, and still another. The fourth girl is lying on the cavern floor. They all seem cheerful. This “human tree” reminds me vaguely of a scene from George Harrison’s “When We Was Fab” music video from 1987.

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Dream #NYMB53.

Morning of January 1, 2017. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 28 sec. Readability score: 68.



My dream starts out with a typical water induction state (the most common beginning since early childhood as water symbolizes sleep and its dynamics in real time) and eventually becomes an area near a boat dock. It is in an unknown area near the ocean and seems to be late morning. I walk around as if perhaps looking for a boat to buy. Most are small motorboats. I look more closely at one near the outer wall of a commercial building.

Someone says “seven thousand dollars” loudly and clearly, but I think he might be talking to someone else who is looking around at the boats (though this is not certain).

I am sitting in a tavern. A person is sitting near me, and he or she turns to look at me. They are wearing a baggy cloth cat mask that covers their head. It is a pale yellowish cream color and almost seems like finer burlap in texture. It does not look quite right as if their head may be too small or perhaps slightly misshapen. I do not perceive any threat or sense of danger. I consider making an amusingly rude remark, but I do not. There is a sudden clear sound seemingly about five feet away that may be a bottle falling off a shelf.

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It was part of a sequence of about twenty different scenes, but these are the clearer and stabler parts. It stems from the kind where I watch hundreds of settings rapidly change like a slideshow, eventually slowing down and stabilizing. Sometimes I deliberately step into a setting. Other times I let it expand around me, and I am within my illusory dream body.

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A cat, though not a real cat here, is a witness to the dream state and a factor of circadian rhythms (associated with night). Being only a cat mask implies my dream is losing cohesion, but it is also a coalescence factor of the emerging consciousness that the color yellow also represents. It is also reminiscent of a scarecrow, a dynamic of physicality being inactive as is one when sleeping. It is also like having a pillowcase over one’s head. The bottle falling was the waking prompt.

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