Blue_Opossum

Morning of March 1, 2017. Wednesday.



I am sitting in an armchair. I recall that there had been cheerful interaction with my family at a previous point. However, the setting firstly seems to be my Cubitis bedroom. The armchair is against the west wall, at the south end of my room (where no armchair had ever been in real life).

My room is somewhat dark. I begin to hear, seemingly from just outside the window, some sort of very unusual sound, almost like an electronic squeak (actually caused by subliminal awareness of a real environmental sound). I hear it a few times and eventually realize that it is someone in the front yard who is not supposed to be there.

I leave my room and walk around to the front of the house through the living room to possibly catch the imposer. At this point, it is still seemingly modeled mostly after the Cubitis house. However, when I open the front door, the area is completely different and unfamiliar, though my dream self does not register it as such (as I erroneously “recognize” it as our present address). Contrary to the implied Cubitis setting, there is no carport. There is no driveway or highway beyond. Instead, there is a huge front yard, mostly with very tall grass other than where it is short from about ten feet out from the front of the house. It now seems to be morning and I notice a beautiful blue sky.

I see a young unfamiliar male running through the front yard from my left (from where the noise was likely coming from). He seems to be very amused. He keeps running to the northwest, where there are more houses in both northerly rows and westerly rows. The house I am in seems somewhat isolated (mostly due to the huge front yard). I yell at him saying that I have weapons. He keeps running but I do not even think about chasing after him even though he seems to think I might while maintaining his seemingly cheerful countenance.

Looking at the front yard at the tall grass that is farther out, I also notice a clear path of short grass that goes for a very long distance. I feel very cheerful and even lucky about this feature even though I am annoyed by the idea of having to mow the rest of the yard on each side of the long path. I reason that grass does not grow much over all the old established paths. In the distance is also a beautiful mountain.

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The waking transition is atypical here, though the first prompt (preconscious running off to my right) still oriented to my right as it most often is. It is atypical for the personified preconscious to run off rather than more directly initiate the waking dynamics. The path through the tall grass is a clue, especially regarding my clarity of it at this point (even though I remain in the doorway until waking, which is in itself a waking event as a door represents a potential shift in consciousness and often serves as the exit point of a dream). A mountain represents subliminal focus on the conscious self and the goal of waking from sleep. Still, had I stepped out from the doorway, this might have induced a lucid state as has occurred in many previous dreams.

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Morning of March 1, 2017. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,335-03. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



Moving through a deeper state of water induction, after letting my lucidity fade, I recall a big fish in an aquarium. The fish takes up nearly the entire aquarium. An old man with a long white beard owns it. I see this on a large screen in an unfamiliar bedroom. Zsuzsanna is with me at times. I am wearing clothes, but I mostly stay on my left side in bed with my head facing the opposite direction as the monitor.

The screen covers most of the upper two-thirds of the wall. The fish is facing left in profile. The old man is in his living room, and another unknown male is in the background.

Eventually, I realize there is an octopus aquarium (owned by the same old man). It becomes the dominating scene on the big screen. I find amusement in watching baby octopuses swimming. There are hundreds of them. They are too tiny to discern much detail. (It vaguely reminds me of looking at stars in the night sky.) Zsuzsanna watches the images for a time. I point out small strands of food they are eating. (I was first unable to tell the difference between the food particles and the baby octopuses, but my view zooms in at times.)

While I occasionally watch the screen, I hear former schoolmate Tony talking to his grandfather (even though no one else is present). This event was in the past, though I am hearing it now. On notebook paper, he wrote several phrases in a tribal language (erroneously from Papua New Guinea, but it should be a Native American language) taught by his grandfather. Tony had discarded many of his belongings. Plastic bags full of what he threw out teleported to the bed. (I do not consider how impossible this is, though I get the impression that it might have something to do with a random “download.”)

I look through some of his plastic grocery store bags, noticing the notebook pages (some folded in half) with his writing (though I do not recall any of the phrases), as well as other items. I am unsure of what I should do. Most of his stuff was from before eighth grade. There is no sign he would know what I saw of his.

Zsuzsanna comes in again, telling me she found some of my older writing. She places some papers (that are stapled together at the upper left) at the foot of the bed. I see a story or long dream journal entry printed in pencil I supposedly wrote at around age seven. It is at least twelve pages on notebook paper. Written on the top line of the first page is “Frankenstein.” A bit farther to the right is “1948,” followed by “by” and my name. It puzzles me as I think it should be “1968.” I am unsure why I would have written that year other than in error. As I become more puzzled about why I might have written “1948,” I wake.

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