Morning of August 31, 2017. Thursday. When I was a toddler, and as a consequence of a long journey being required to get to a hospital (from an isolated cypress swamp), I nearly died (well, I did have an NDE) from loss of blood and almost lost my left hand as the result of an accident of falling from the top of a stool (I loved to climb) across a large piece of a glass mug. However, miraculously, I fully recovered contrary to predictions made by the doctor. Somehow, my brain was wired differently and I did not even go into shock. (I also grew new neural pathways and trained myself to use my hand again, without any help, by the age of four which some had claimed is why my clarity of mind is as it is and why I always remember so many dreams from each sleeping period). Years later, people noted how my scar looked somewhat like a reversed map of Florida, the state I was born in (Zsuzsanna has a similar story, but that is one of many). It is shown partly in the image as such in a photographic flip (though it actually goes around the other side of my wrist from there). When Zsuzsanna and I met, there was also a healing process. (For example, the large hard lump in my left wrist, made up of random bone and tendon, somehow vanished after being that way since I was a toddler. Zsuzsanna’s leaking cartilage in her right knee, another lifelong condition, also no longer existed as such.) At any rate, in this new dream, I have some sort of smaller medical tape covering my scar in at least two pieces that are perpendicular to each other. I am somewhat puzzled, as I remember my wound but I do not fully recall its status. I seem to be near the age I am now. The tape seems to be coming off, and I am concerned that the wound flaps are not fully integrated into my arm, as parts of my arm seem to open like a purse (as had occurred in another recent dream, though in that case, it was my entire arm). After a time, I hear music coming out of the holes of my wound, which sounds like odd flute music but vibrating somewhat. The texture of my arm seems somewhat unusual, and it is also as if I am blowing into my scar at one point and playing it to create flute music. As I am dreaming this, I am awakened by Zsuzsanna - who validated that I had been snoring for awhile. This of course (and I actually did have my mouth near my wrist as such though not as fully as in my dream), along with numerous other experiences, proves to me that the belief about “not being able to dream and snore at the same time” is utter nonsense (as are most beliefs about dreams that are widely published). It may be true for some people, but certainly not for all. (In fact, most ideas about dreams are limited to perhaps only certain individuals assuming any truth at all, for example, people talk about “not remembering dreams”, yet I do all the time, each sleeping period, including hundreds of lucid hypnagogic sequences and with non-lucid dreams, my mind typically automatically decodes their meaning unless prescient.) There have been a number of dreams where my snoring provided a “soundtrack” for my dream, including childhood dreams (including one about a dinosaur, triggered by hearing my own snoring through the veil of sleep) and one as an adult about being pursued by a bear (the sound of the bear being my own snoring).
Night of August 29, 2017. Tuesday. As a very young child, an intriguing recurring dream, some of which versions were lucid, involved walking down a zigzagging path. It usually seemed to be late at night or very early in the morning before dawn. I would notice a splendorous tree. I would also notice, within the foliage of that tree, eerie glowing eyes. The eyes did not seem threatening, though I was aware they were watching me. These states were very vivid. These animals were eventually revealed to be opossums. In this new dream, I “return” to this tree and some sort of analogy begins. The tree is shown to represent the human brain, while the glowing eyes represent the energy of neurons presumably while in the dream state. For some reason, it seems a perfect analogy. One of the several reasons why “opossum” became a part of my dream-self identity, tribal name, and online dream journalist name, was because of these vivid childhood dreams and the fact that an opossum is a perfect symbol for being in the dream state (as an opossum “plays dead” as an analogy of being asleep - not meant in a negative context). Zsuzsanna had a pet Australian opossum when I first made contact with her. This was one of thousands of details that validated our inherent connections to each other long before we met. (She also drew an opossum in a tree as a child with an airplane flying over it, and of course, I flew in an airplane to Australia.) My life has remained miraculous and Zsuzsanna is the only person near my age I can sense as being “there” at all (through the blue flame or Blue Pearl “telepathy”, for lack of a better word).
Morning of August 30, 2017. Wednesday. My dream’s setting is a unique composite as always. (I have never non-lucidly dreamt of the same setting more than once, even in tens of thousands of closely studied and fully mapped non-lucid dreams for over fifty years. This aspect of non-lucid dreams is due to the incidental real-time dynamics of being in non-lucid REM sleep, where reflective cognitive capabilities do not exist as in lucid dreams and even more so in apex lucidity where automatic conscious control of the dream state is achieved.) The back area of our house is modeled after our present home, (our backyard south of our house), except that the area between the short hallway to the back door and the minimally-rendered kitchen has no dividing layout (and is all an open area). The implied east side of this rendering (assuming our present home) is loosely modeled after the north side of a previous home on Stadcor Street in Brisbane (though the driveway more like the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield), the third-from-last house we lived in. The front of my dream’s house, implied to be oriented northerly, is modeled more accurately after the west area of the Stadcor Street house, which was also the front of that house. For several minutes, my dream features the recurring event of me taking supposed public money out of a device in our home (that is, a device in our home which is apparently used by the public and the money going elsewhere, which makes no sense from a waking life standpoint, especially as the public would not otherwise have use of our home, the only way to explain this being real-time symbolism related to receiving thoughts from other people via the collective unconscious which was validated long ago from “receiving” from Zsuzsanna long before we met in reality). There is no backstory on what purpose the device serves. It may be some sort of unlikely vending machine (though is too small to serve that purpose). The device is about the length of my hand and looks like a miniature vertically elongated cash register. Zsuzsanna is present and so is Marilyn (older half-sister on my Mother’s side who died in 2014, though I have no memory of her death here and she appears as she was in the 1980s). I make three attempts to get money out. My second and third attempts make no sense as I had already gotten all the coins out in the first attempt, by shaking the device upside-down, yet many more come out on my second and third attempts. The sound of the clinking coins, the movement and momentum of my hands, and the movement of the internal parts of the device are rendered very realistically. I am eventually aware of a police presence in our backyard. There are at least seven officers standing around on stakeout, though not for us, but a criminal who lives in the area. Still, I am concerned they might see the various coins lying everywhere on the floor. I make a quick attempt to kick sheets of paper and parts of clothes over them. I also slip some into my left pocket. They ask me through the back door if I know a certain man or had seen them and I say no. (I do not recall the name though I know it did not sound familiar.) At one point, I notice that an unfamiliar female police officer is closest to our house. I also notice that the screen is torn down the middle from the top of the screen door, about three-quarters of the way down. (though we do not have a back screen door in reality.) She pushes it towards me from outside as if to draw more attention to it, almost slapping me in the face with it, but not intentionally. There is an additional partial horizontal tear in the screen (lower down) of less significance and which seems to have already been there for a long time, but this vertical tear was apparently done recently by the authorities, supposedly for my benefit and theirs regarding their stakeout. I find it puzzling but I do not comment. In a short time, my brother-in-law Bob makes his first appearance in this dream (mostly as he appeared in the 1980s). From the left side of the solid wooden back door, he closes it over the screen door (and it closes from the opposite side as in reality). “This door can be closed,” he says cheerfully though informatively. I question if his act is thought out very well, but I do not comment. In the next scene, I am going to the front of our house. Off to my right, through the windows of the adjoining room I am walking through, the criminal first makes his presence known. He drives rapidly (north based on our present home) over our driveway, the car’s tires loudly crunching and spitting gravel and dust (the driveway of which our present home does not have as such, as it is just a very narrow side yard in reality, though, as mentioned in the second paragraph, this seems based on dynamics of when we lived in Clayfield on Gellibrand Street despite the room being like the one on Stadcor Street, though my dream’s house is at about ground level, unlike in reality for all three locations). This event makes no sense at all, as he is suddenly driving rapidly from our backyard, directly from where several police officers had just been standing. I wonder if they even noticed he was there. In the front room of our house (which again, is now of the Stadcor Street house) I look out the front windows. Our front doors (screen door and main door) are both open. The criminal has come up our high front steps (despite our house being implied to be low-set a couple minutes previously) and I politely nod “hello” to him through the doorway even though I do not want his imposition. He has a scruffy beard and light red hair. I eventually notice that he is coming in and there are at least two females with him, one pregnant, though otherwise very slim and wearing tight clothes (this character being directly modeled after a contestant on the Australian “Family Feud” game show very recently). I suddenly change my mind about welcoming him (which is based on a subliminal desire to sleep longer) and now I am not even sure what good the police presence is doing. I boldly tell him to get out. He becomes very angry. I notice that he is carrying some sort of rifle of illogical appearance. Instead of doing anything to me from near the doorway or even approaching me, he leaves the house to go into the street and starts shooting at our house. The noise is very loud and puffs of white smoke (dream state indicator) are floating everywhere like little clouds (this scene partly as a result of real-life environmental noise). I head towards the back of the house, which once again is more like our present home. As illogically large bullets are now firing through the walls of our house from the front and the back, the female police officer (still near the back door) advises me to get down. I get down on the floor and wake up in the exact same position I had just been in my dream. I then realize that the police officer seemed modeled after an additional young version of Zsuzsanna. This dream entry is probably too long to include a full decoding, but I will note a few details. Emergent consciousness and preconscious factors seem to be “after” each other here and I am (as my personified subconscious which again has no reflective cognitive capabilities despite the bizarre but popular disinformation) caught in the middle, which is amusing, but very atypical, though we did watch two episodes of “Cops” just before sleeping (though this is probably also related to news about North Korea, hopefully not prescient). The torn screen of the back door is a known dream state indicator, which represents a growing metaphorical opening that otherwise divides preconscious from emergent consciousness as a “screen”, though this is more about Zsuzsanna’s emergent consciousness “sending” to mine in real time. (As such, I am surprised that I did not become viably lucid, especially at least semi-lucid, though my dream did noticeably vivify past this point.)
Updated 08-30-2017 at 01:18 PM by 1390
Morning of August 29, 2017. Tuesday. My family and I as we appear now are living back in an altered version of Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. Over time, there are some abstract concepts of needing to remake part of our house (though it was actually an apartment) by switching two front wall sections. This mainly includes exchanging a wall with a window with an area where there is more plumbing (with two silver metal pipes). I somehow manage to have this done (with no dream self memory regarding the physical dynamics of the act) whereby the walls have been exchanged. The room with the window is now closer to the entrance and the room with more plumbing is at the right (front of the building viewpoint). At one point, I start to realize that, because the pipes come from the ground, it is not possible to connect them properly unless many adjustments are made and new parts are purchased. I look at the pipes coming up from the floor and see there is nothing they will presently connect to, as what they were meant to connect to is now in the other room. I then decide that it is not feasible to rebuild the house with this orientation (again, relating to the pipes), so I undo it as if it never happened (though I wake up realizing I am on my right side instead of my left). This was part of a longer series of dreams, including resets and partial repeats of this one, a few other dreams related to pipes, and a few unrelated dreams (all in all, about fifteen non-lucid and semi-lucid dreams on this particular date, which is not uncommon, not including the hundreds of hypnagogic sequences). In this case, I was vaguely aware of my conscious mind creating my dream’s dynamics and symbolism (which is quite common and has remained one of the puzzles as to why other people do not seem to understand the meaning of their dreams). Exchanging the walls directly relates to absentmindedly sleeping on my right side for a time instead of my left. I mostly only sleep on my left side as sleeping on my right sometimes causes indigestion and anxiety (one reason being that the stomach and its weight is naturally oriented to the left side of the body). The pipes in this dream relate to the digestive system (though in other dreams, depending on the dream type, can also relate to the circulatory system, the dynamics of dream induction and waking as directly related to the glymphatic clearance pathway, among other causes). The pipes in this dream were mainly in two locations from the floor, one lower than the other, which associates with one being symbolic of the esophagus and the other, the duodenum. The causal effect is based on the norovirus I had yesterday.
Updated 11-04-2019 at 06:21 AM by 1390
Morning of August 29, 2017. Tuesday. I am living with my family at an unknown residence. There are similar associations as with another dream of this date regarding plumbing and connecting pipes. However, in this dream, the pipes are mostly white plastic whereas in my other dream, they were silver metal. The bottom of the house is about three feet above ground level. I am on the right side of the house, which may be loosely modeled after the one on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. I see that I need to reconnect at least two pipes, possibly more. One pipe has a different type of softer material that bends easily and is partially transparent. I notice that one pipe has an irregular hole as if cut at an angle and making somewhat of a triangular flap, its texture almost being like a bicycle tire. I put pressure on it to see how big the hole expands (to check how extensive the leak could be) and the pipe breaks in half. I then consider that I need to buy a new connection. The connection is like a combination of about three pipes and the softer piece that now almost looks like a large sandwich bag tied around the area where two pipes connect at about a ninety-degree angle. There is another person present, unknown, yet who seems to be a friend who is watching me, possibly here to help. An unknown younger male in the front yard of the house next door (to my left) comes over to annoy us. I tell him that he is trespassing and punch him in the face and stomach a few times. Illogically, I somehow do this while sitting cross-legged on the ground even though he is standing. He does not react at all. I have had similar dreams (relating to pipes) all my life. Sometimes they have a completely different mood and essence than in other cases. I recently had one of trying to get water to containers in a miniature zoo within a three-tiered cage (“Plumbing Troubles in a Three-Tiered Miniature Zoo” of August 26, 2017). I am going to have to assume that this dream relates to bad indigestion and stomach clenching related to a virus of yesterday that lasted about twenty-four hours. Generally, plumbing has been validated to mean at least four different things depending on the dream type; blood circulation of the real physical body (in real time, especially when a limb is going numb from a problematic sleeping position), the digestive system (including a need to rehydrate), a need to wake and use the bathroom, and neural energy patterns related to circadian rhythms based on a certain type of coalescence waking symbolism. Although the presence of the preconscious as an imposer seems to suggest coalescence waking symbolism (especially as I punch him to no avail), it seems more about healing the physical body and the digestive system in this case, especially considering the “plastic sandwich bag” association. This may be an incidental carryover of the miniature zoo dream but with a different meaning unless the zoo dream was considered as indirectly prescient. Otherwise, I have had many precognitive dreams related to my physical health since early childhood. Unlike other forms of prescience, it can possibly be explained by the body being “aware” of a potential condition before the conscious mind is, yet which sometimes occurs years in advance.
Morning of August 26, 2017. Saturday. I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in an unknown residence that my dream self sees as ours. We have a large cage with three sections of equal size. Each section has the essence of an area in a zoo with miniature animals. The middle section has a few deer. The deer are no bigger than my hand. The cage is about as tall as I am. At one point, I notice a small amount of water running down in a narrow stream. It seems to be meant to flow into a container for drinking water but it is just outside of the area I look at. I see that each section has an area for drinking water, but apparently each container is in a different area. I try to adjust something which changes the flow of the water. It seems unusual in that each built-in pipe seems slightly out of alignment to fill the container. The running water changes each time to being near each of the three drinking areas for the animals as I adjust something near the top of the cage facing the room, but I do not see it working fully prior to waking. I had this dream after reading more about the glymphatic system. Flowing water typically relates to this process during sleep (as water dynamics relate directly to sleep dynamics as such), but as it is biological, cannot be controlled. The miniature animals then, are probably associated with astrocytes. Towards waking, there is less fluid flowing. Water (the main basis of dream state induction) getting lower over time has been common waking symbolism since early childhood. This is possibly another variation of it. Electrical activity of neurons synchronizes as we fall asleep, so this may be a form of subliminal reinduction (that is, an attempt to synchronize flow even though I have likely slept long enough), in which case a dynamic of my non-lucid dream self may be biological as in a number of past dreams. (This was not my last dream of the sleeping period and I fell into slow-wave sleep again.) On a much simpler level, it may also be relating that one cannot drink water when one is asleep and thus eventually creates enough awareness of the self to initiate waking as the majority of dreams are designed to do in the last segment. Despite the pretense of “interpretation” by people who do not understand what dreams are (which includes the majority in my experience, even “experts”), dreams are inherently biologically designed to wake a person up and attend to environmental or biological needs (such as an unknown noise or a need to use the bathroom or to drink water), which is the most important neural process that exists. This does not mean they do not sometimes have other layers, such as prescience, transpersonal communication (which most people do not even believe in despite overwhelming evidence), deliberate lucid rendering, and “practice” events.
Morning of August 25, 2017. Friday. In the first part of my dream, I am mostly in the background (as a secondary character) watching high school students being questioned about drug usage and something to do with playing sports at times when sports are apparently not allowed (or at least relating to how the games are played), though this factor may be distorted as I am not focused on every detail. Apparently, every student in the school is being punished based on the actions and beliefs of only about four students. The events and interview scenes (which sometimes include two or three students) are not that vivid. The most vivid part is in the last segment of my dream, which in actuality is an offset dream that initiates the waking symbolism and also has the perspective of semi-lucidity. I am in a mostly featureless room. It begins to have the essence of higher liminal space (closer to waking consciousness). An unusual version of Johnny Whitaker, the actor from “Family Affair”, walks into the room. It seems he is going to be either in an interview or some sort of publicity, perhaps even an acting role. (This is not certain.) I recognize him as a celebrity. I call out “Jody!” He smiles and nods but does not move from his location near the doorway. I am puzzled by his lack of initiation from my side, due to very vivid memories seemingly being present, but not quite within reach. “Jody!” I yell again. His expression changes as if he suddenly gets it. “Buffy!” he yells and runs up to me as we hug. He then steps aside and speaks three phrases that sound like gibberish with a “sudsy” essence (as if gargling and speaking at the same time). However, he then clearly says “How are you?” and nods happily as I wake. Although this dream was typical coalescence waking symbolism (fairly common for me since childhood), there are some very eerie underlying layers, especially when looking at recent trends in my dreaming patterns. Consider that I have not seen the episode of “Family Affair” that this dream is directly associated with since I was very young. Also, I have not actively thought of Johnny Whitaker or Anissa Jones as in “Family Affair” in many years. Anissa Jones died on August 28, 1976, three days from today’s date. Johnny Whitaker was born December 13, 1959, so is close to my age (though I was born on December 20, 1960). As a supplement, I will add details from three recent dreams that utilized coalescence waking symbolism: “Socket Repair and my Mother and Classmates” of August 19, 2017. (Preconscious as former schoolmate Sam M and recognized as such). “Fixing a Bridge (featuring Dean Norris)” of August 24, 2017. (Preconscious as actor Dean Norris, unrecognized as a celebrity.) “Meeting Johnny Whitaker (coalescence waking symbolism)”, this dream entry’s dream, of August 25, 2017 (Preconscious as actor Johnny Whitaker, recognized as such.) What is interesting is the one with Sam M, where I absentmindedly (and accidentally) punched him in the face, thinking he was a different former classmate. He then gives medical attention to my other arm (which in real life was cramping up as I slept.) The vividness of this dream was equal to the other two. It also turned out to have prescient threads (as most of my dreams do, but I do not always update them as such). In this case, with no way of me expecting it, he had posted a joke on Facebook within about a day after my dream. It was about a professor asking God directly for “proof of God” and ended with a soldier getting up and punching him, saying that God was busy protecting soldiers so he was sent. There is much more, but this entry is long enough.
Morning of August 24, 2017. Thursday. My dream begins with the most common form of dream state induction; the presence of water, in this case, an unknown river. (This is based on circadian biology and the glymphatic system, whereby at least one dream per night for over fifty years has featured water, not including the numerous water-based hypnagogic dream sequences, which number in the hundreds each sleeping period.) I am standing and looking out over this unfamiliar river in seemingly late morning. There is a wooden bridge present, but it does not go all the way across the river. A helicopter flies in from my right and drops off a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna. My dream self is not fully aware of her identity, though I am uncertain of my dream self’s implied age. Zsuzsanna is on the outside of the two-tiered wooden railing, on my right and facing to the left in profile, appearing to do some work on it by tightening the bolts. I think about helping, but I am unsure how to get to where she presently is, as the walkway now seems fully underwater. This seems somewhat unusual, as I vaguely puzzle over why a railing would be fixed when the walkway itself is underwater. Another section of the bridge, which includes a ladder, is also submerged. Time passes, and Dean Norris, the actor, appears. I do not see him as a celebrity but as a bystander, though possibly associated with the repair of the bridge. Somehow, though this would certainly not be possible in real life (or even consciously resolvable in method), I lift a large section of the walkway up from the water, the farthest edge towards me, while I am still standing on the riverbank, though squatting slightly at one point. It seems more like a square platform constructed of small logs, the orientation of the logs parallel to the river bank. An alligator, its head oriented opposite from the riverbank, surprises me by swimming out from under where the section was (yet there is a vague awareness of instinctual dream control suggesting that I created the alligator, and this is further evidenced by the alligator not being perceived as a danger or being the coalescence-based waking prompt). I am wary at first, but it does not attack or show much aggression. Instead, it swims back down under the surface. I tell Dean that there are other alligators in the river, though farther away from where we are. He does not comment. “My father built this bridge,” I say to him, somewhat absentmindedly. “Your dad built this bridge?” he replies without emotion. “…and he built a lot of utility buildings,” I add. I rethink what I had just said. Although I know that my father built a lot of park utility buildings, bathrooms, and rest stop shelters, I am unsure if he was involved in the building of this bridge as it was first constructed and that he may have only worked on it years after it was built. I consider that he may have been a part of a team of builders, but I then consider if the bridge had first been built in the 1800s (though I really have no knowledge of when it was built). If so, I consider if Dean was puzzled by my comment, but we do not talk much after this. I consider if Dean will bring in men in speedboats to cull the alligators, but this is not certain. Ordinarily, a bridge symbolizes the progression from dreaming to waking (as well as possibly representing the biological construction of a new memory or neural pathway) though sometimes seemingly represents a potentially prescient timeline. There seem to be two preconscious factors here (Dean and the alligator), both atypically passive (though this may be due to instinctual dream control). However, the dynamics are a bit curious, as Dean may be coalesced into the interconsciousness. Submerged walkways are otherwise common in my dreams (and have been since early childhood) as a natural result of circadian biology and water symbolizing the dynamics of sleep in real time. A helicopter is a common symbol in my dreams that is linked to Merkaba energies and gamma brain waves in a similar way as a tornado often is, though it typically relates to “return flight” waking symbolism (though here it may relate to Zsuzsanna being in the waking stage while I remain asleep, seemingly validated by her arriving by helicopter, being on the outside of the railing and tightening it - becoming more aware in her emergent consciousness and outside of my ephemeral dream self incarnation). I am not certain as to why the preconscious so often appears as a celebrity (sometimes recognized as themselves, sometimes recognized only as a fictional character they have played, sometimes as an ordinary person with no celebrity association as in this dream - there seems to be no determining factor as to why this is other than concurrent threads of available memory). It may be due to the transpersonal element or how the preconscious is completely different from the conscious self identity (though this seems deliberate to subliminally begin to initiate dream state realization in how neither the dream self nor conscious self is anything at all like the preconscious - which often creates conflict or emotional augmentation of enough energy to trigger waking).
Updated 09-08-2019 at 04:53 AM by 1390
Morning of August 23, 2017. Wednesday. Considering that I neither smoke nor use drugs (even legal medication), this was a rather impersonal dream on some levels, but with the typical preconscious initiation symbolism as since early childhood. I discover two large marijuana cigarettes in a drawer, which I am aware belong to my older half-brother Dennis. Completely unlike my waking self mentality, I am actually thinking of smoking both of them (though this is about subliminal dream state revivification rather than having any waking life relevance). Still, when Dennis shows up, I pretend that they should be shared with him. Curiously, he says he does not indulge in such acts anymore. For what seems to be a long time, I stand near the end of the Cubitis driveway near Highway Seventeen. It seems to be late at night. I feel very good. I smoke one of the cigarettes, being clearly aware of the odd way the smoke and fire spreads out from it. Eventually, a team of at least four men show up during what seems to be the next day. Apparently, they are here to search the house for drugs. The main one, the personified preconscious, whose job is to make me realize I am dreaming and thus should wake (to attend to important biological needs), is a chubby unfamiliar man with a gray beard. My mother is present in some scenes, mostly appearing as she was in the 1970s. I have no recall that she had died in 2002. In another scene, the men are in a meeting in the house. I find a large box which contains sweet grass in a few different forms as well as several other herbs, some braided. I consider that they might see the plants as illegal drugs but this is not the case. They know it is sweet grass and even discuss how useful it is. In another scene, the preconscious brings out a tackle box from somewhere. He seems to believe that he may find drugs in it (though the real purpose is obviously to get me to think about fishing, which symbolizes activating neural energies to arise from sleep). This angers me somewhat. Still, when he opens it, there are two large globs of stale cat food, though he does not seem to know what it is at first and expresses disgust. I inform him that it is cat food and that the tackle box had not been opened for many years. (As a cat has been validated to be some sort of “guardian” of liminal space as first determined in dreams when I was about five years old, this suggests I am still subliminally attempting to sustain my dream in unusual ways by having supposedly “hidden the cat food for many years” so as to halt a particular shift in consciousness. There is sometimes a subliminal hypnopompic association as well, based on “cats always land on their feet” to downplay the waking start that often includes a falling sensation of which is biological and has no waking life relevance.) In one of the last scenes, I decide to go into the bathroom, as I still have a joint in my right pants pocket (though no one has checked me thus far) and I plan to stay in here until they leave (and this is likely an awareness of needing to wake and use the bathroom, but the urge is not yet that dominant). While I am in here, the shadow of the preconscious is cast through a window (which suggests he is closer to coalescing as my emergent consciousness). I stand near a different wall, but I still suspect he is watching me and I start yelling at him about spying on people, telling him I will call the FBI, which he seems to find amusing. The emergent consciousness factor shifts back into subliminal reinduction as the preconscious is now clearly in view through another window. He comes into the house again and I consider that they may go through every container in the house no matter how long it takes. Before I see the preconscious inside the house again, I go into a room that is similar to our oldest son’s room in the Barolin Street house. I drop the joint down a vertical opening between the wall boards (at about elbow level) oriented to the right of the room on the north wall. The tip is barely visible. Perhaps they will not find it, but it still seems a possibility. (Note that a wall symbolizes real-time divisions of neural energy patterns and the more defined division between levels of consciousness. This validates the basic real-time subliminal theme of this dream.) Getting tired of the presence of the preconscious (and only knowing what his presence indicates at a subliminal level), I stab him numerous times with a dagger (which validates non-lucid dream control as this is something I would not think about consciously in a real-life situation as such unless my life or a family member’s was directly threatened). There is a lot of blood; so much blood that there seems to be more blood than physical volume of his body. Soon, the other officials enter the room and look down casually at the remains. “Well, that didn’t work,” says one male, “He’s still not awake.” They perform some sort of ritual to resurrect him. His remains transform into some sort of computer console as from the 1950s though I am aware it is female. The men watch the screen and I see a young version of Zsuzsanna walking around, but what this implies does not fully register. (A computer typically represents increasing neural activity in the waking stage as the unconscious does not possess viable thinking skills). I am not sure if they had intended to change him into a female computer console or not. Maybe it happened randomly, but they do not seem puzzled. They turn dials and study the actions of Zsuzsanna on the monitor. “Neural activity increasing,” says the male watching the console while the other two stand around. There is a list of Hz values on the right, the top one being 22 Hz (supposed intelligence enhancement). (Zsuzsanna was awake at the time in reality and had been walking around in the house.) Then…I am in an unknown room at a table in a less vivid offset dream, sitting with most of my dream’s characters. I am drinking grape juice and notice that I have “hidden” the joint in the glass. It illogically remains in a vertical position near one side of the glass. (There may be an association with attempting to drink through a paper straw, which always irritated me in real life.) I tell them that I do not really care much about the taste of what I am drinking and my dream fades. (Almost all of us wake up with a strange flavor in our mouths. Your tongue accumulates a series of bacteria stored overnight.)
Updated 06-10-2018 at 06:11 AM by 1390
Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday. In my dream, there is an unfamiliar library I go to, which takes the place of where the King Cinema had been in real life. I am also living at the King Street mansion (boarding house) not as I was years ago in reality, but with my family as we appear now. My dream starts with me leaving the apartment. I walk westerly down King Street. The library is only a few blocks away. I am carrying, in a backpack, a computer keyboard, a flat monitor, and two small unknown devices (each about the size of an iPhone but thicker and one with a curved bottom) related to computer technology which apparently store data and may be additionally used for other purposes. In the library, I delete a list of URLs, one at a time, from one device for the purpose of clearing memory. I sit at a small table near the left end of one row of shelves. I do not question why the computer keyboard and monitor are all I have (with the two other small devices) to apparently do some work on my computer. Water begins to drip from various areas of the library’s ceiling. I become annoyed, because one of the devices I am looking at goes blank and the screen is apparently ruined by water. An unfamiliar young female librarian assures me that it will work normally again when it dries. She pushes against me a bit from behind and I am slightly annoyed by this, as it makes it more difficult to type freely. It starts to rain more and more inside the library. I tell them that buildings in Australia sure leak a lot, adding how where my family lives now has leaks, a few near the foot of our bed. I compare them to the houses I lived in in America. This is very flawed dream-self memory as usual, as the setting is implied to be in America. Somehow, even though I perceive that I “still” live in America on King Street, I am also seemingly aware of where we live now (in referring to the leaks in our present home). There is no way to consciously resolve this distortion, as, when I leave the library near the end of my dream, I am walking easterly back towards the King Street mansion (in America) in the rain, yet with the feeling I am in Australia. There is no aspect of bilocation of the two buildings, so it is just some sort of oddly skewed parallel thinking that only the dream self can maintain. I decide to move to another location and sit down on the floor in an informal meditation position. It is closer to one corner near the main entrance. There is a male to my right who reminds me of classmate Bill W. All three of my devices with screens eventually become ruined. Bill talks to me a bit about some sort of research. Several other people are around, a few even reading books in the indoor rain. I rub the surface of one of the devices. The screen is more like transparent glass by this point. Inside the device, which seems somewhat hollow, I see pieces of leaves and a few small stones and sand that I consider somehow got inside over the past few minutes. I am annoyed that I will apparently have to buy new computer devices. I realize that, even though I am wearing a long-sleeved sweater (which goes down a bit below my waist), I do not have any pants on. I also have no shoes and am only wearing dark socks. The fact I do not have shoes annoys me more than not having any pants on, since I do not like the idea of walking on a cold wet granular sidewalk with only socks on. I ask Bill if I had come into the library with shoes on, though he seems not to know, and I am uncertain if I did. Eventually, I leave the library to go home. I am firstly walking, then I start running in an exaggerated manner. My “running” becomes stranger, similar to the movement of The Spirit in the 2008 movie when he runs on the telephone wires. (We saw this movie just prior to my dream.) It feels like I am kicking sand out from the back of my feet as I am oddly moving along. Eventually, I reach the King Street boarding house, and there are some more dream elements, though which become abstract. Raining indoors is a sort of forced symbolism based on the dream state itself, biologically related to a process that occurs during sleep (which I have described more fully in other entries). The library represents potential for conscious self awareness (and critical thinking skills), but the circadian rhythms factor holds my dream in the deeper phase. Being undressed in public, which is a subliminal dream-state indicator (as I do not wear clothes when sleeping) has rarely bothered me. (In fact, I am more embarrassed in some dreams when wearing clothes, as in real life, I do not like to be seen as wearing clothes in bed.) It is no coincidence that I am often undressed in public in a library, as these are two common dream-state indicators (dream signs) for me, especially as in sensual lucid dreams, when I deliberately initiate this situation. (This is additionally validated by the library being where the movie theater was in real life, a movie theater otherwise symbolizing subliminal acknowledgement of the dream state.) The association with “The Spirit” movie, where he runs on telephone wires, even though I am on the sidewalk in my dream, is based on increasing neural energy and communication between different layers of consciousness during the waking transition.
Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday. I am in the middle room on the east side of the King Street mansion (where I have not been in real life in over twenty years). It is not known if I am living there though, as there is an unknown male in the bed, which is out from the east wall. It seems to be late at night. I am aware of a supposed haunting, but there is no concern or fear of any kind. In fact, I make sarcastic remarks to the unseen ghost and screech several times. After time passes, the unseen ghost screeches louder than me. The unknown male and I are somewhat amused. Still, I am trying to get the ghost to show itself. The room has a fictional feature. There is a closet to the left of the door, but this feature would not be possible in real life as there is a hall directly behind that wall. At one point, the landlady looks in to see what is going on. There are two small wooden shelves near the top of the closet. The ghost seems to be on the top shelf. I see signs of it a few times, but just a little. Two unknown girls come into the room. One reminds me of Linda Cardellini as Velma from 2002’s “Scooby-Doo” and the other, Annie Potts as Janine Melnitz from 1984’s “Ghostbusters”. Both are to my left, Linda being closer. I tell them to watch as I bring the ghost out from hiding by commanding it to appear. On the left of the upper closet shelf, a small circle of white material appears. Time passes, and the “ghost” emerges. It looks like a series of small balls covered with a handkerchief as it moves down to the bottom shelf and moves to the right somewhat like a caterpillar in a sort of undulating motion. Linda makes a comment about it possibly being a “flaw in the film” as if we were watching a movie instead of a real feature in the room. My dream fades from this point. Zsuzsanna and I watched “Ghosts of Darkness” (2017) last night, where a main scene involved two men watching a door to a closet and attempting to expel a large demon from an old mansion. This enjoyable comedic dream is all that resulted. There have been a number of other dreams where dream characters talked about dreams or features or events in a dream as if they were movies. I find this very interesting, as it may be a thread of my conscious self expressing this major sentiment about dreams through another dream character, especially as it is usually said near the end of a dream. A movie theater or stage has also been a subliminal dream-state indicator in a number of my dreams.
Morning of August 19, 2017. Saturday. I am in an ambiguous new composite setting (as all dream settings are one-of-a-kind since early childhood), which seems to align the front (northernmost) room where I use my computer (at our present address) with the Cubitis southwest bedroom (so that the main north windows from our present address are directly associated with the Cubitis southwest bedroom’s south windows, though also present are that bedroom’s west windows as defined easterly, which otherwise have no association with our present address). It does not have the usual essence of bilocation, only an unusual atypical blended association and awareness. There are threads of liminal dream state awareness but no active lucidity from my dream self’s viewpoint. Zsuzsanna is present at times. In the main scene, it seems to be late at night. I had been going through, in my mind, a set of patterns relating to the dream state. I consider how certain rules or symbolism has remained the same all my life. There are three main ones I had been writing about, but I do not recall what they were, though I think one was specifically related to directional orientation regarding dream features. I am in the room and a cardboard box containing some of my older dream journals is present on the floor. There does not seem to be the presence of other discernible features. The top of the box is partly open. As I turn to face the windows, I vividly feel a cold wind flow over my back and I am aware it has somehow come from the open cardboard box. I am puzzled and consider that the wind should have come into the room from the windows, though I still consider closing the box more securely. I remain puzzled, standing in the semidarkness, and slowly wake. (In real life, it was very windy outside at the time. The sound probably altered the rendering of my dream in an illogical way as has happened many times before with environmental sounds, body position, movements, and tactile sensations. In this case, my dream self was looking out the window vaguely aware of the sound of wind, while my real physical body probably simultaneously felt a cool spot on my back unrelated to wind.)
Updated 06-07-2018 at 11:38 AM by 1390
Early evening of August 19, 2017. Saturday. I am in an unknown residence but my dream self does not perceive it as unknown. My mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is present and appearing as she was in the early 1970s. It seems I am only a boy, perhaps around thirteen. Still, I am working with a computer (and of course I had no home computer at that age in the 1970s). A relative (Valerie) comes up near the left of the table as I am typing and says something I do not fully hear. She goes very close to the left side of the computer monitor. After a short time, I see that the headphone jack has pulled out and I have a false memory that it was a very sensitive (easily wrecked) setup. I tell her to go away as I then try to fix it. She yells at her father (David) that every time she listens to him, she gets into trouble. Apparently, she had been relaying something he had said. (The presence of these two characters is illogical, implying a completely different time period than the other characters). I become very frustrated as I am trying to work out how to get the jack and socket to work again. The original headphone jack is of the small size, with an adapter of a large jack size fitting over it before going into the socket on the left side of the computer monitor. (This is an unfamliar setup never used in reality.) A few times I think I have it as it should be to work, but pieces come apart and the wires do not touch. There is one point where the smaller jack is just a singular loose tiny cylinder. I notice a number of jacks and socket rings on the table. The ones I need to more conveniently push it all together do not seem to be present. I become so annoyed I say that I am about to throw the computer away and give up on everything (and not work with computers again). My mother looks on. Soon, I feel vivid touches on my left shoulder and top of my head, as if someone is trying to comfort me as I sit near the table. I look up and see a large chubby and unrealistically bizarre female face grinning at me. I recognize her as a former classmate (Laurie P) who I never talked to much, though she has darker hair in my dream. “Oh no, get away from me you horrid ugly…” I say clearly. I am not sure if I have even offended her. She slowly leaves the table without seeming upset. I consider that many other schoolmates may no longer be friendly towards me if they hear of my behavior, but I am not that concerned about it. (There is a vague thought of being unfriended by some of them on Facebook, but this makes no sense in light of the time period I perceive myself in.) I eventually seem to have most of the small parts together, but it may not work. Still, I put the jack back into the replaced socket. Bare wires are still everywhere. As I sit down, I sense movement to my left. I end up punching someone in the left cheek with my right fist. The sense of touch and momentum is very realistic. It turns out to be a young version of Sam M, another schoolmate. I immediately apologize, saying that I thought he was David (another schoolmate, not the David mentioned earlier). I mention how I thought he might have been drinking and Sam says that David is sitting in another area of the large room and had in fact been drinking. Sam seems to be doing something with my left arm, apparently some sort of medical attention, though I do not recall hurting it. (He seems an odd composite of child and man.) I tell Sam that I hope my punch does not leave a mark. That part of his face is only slightly red. Meanwhile, I notice that my computer monitor’s speakers are hissing but additionally, the normal audio seems to be coming out of both the headphones (on the table) and the computer speakers. (This is due to subliminal awareness of real sound, as our television is on in the next room.) Attempting to fix the jack and socket relate to subliminally trying to achieve consciousness by increasing neural activity while in the dream state. Sam’s attention to my left arm relates to the fact that it had a slight ache from having slept on it up to this point (which I am not aware of while still in my dream). It is the purpose of the preconscious to wake the dreamer or at least bring attention to the nature of the dream state in real time. Sometimes the preconscious is rendered as a snake to more quickly wake the dreamer with more emotion (such as when my arm has gone numb or is getting pins and needles, though was also a cobra biting my thumb in a dream when I was having pain in my thumb from surgery). There may be other factors, as the preconscious is not always personified as in this dream (Sam). The fact that I am in a dream in early evening likely explains why the preconscious is not as dominant in this case, as I had not entered a longer sleep cycle. (The first appearance as Laurie did not create enough emotion to rise from the dream state. Even my punching Sam in the face only initiated the augmentation of physical awareness to a greater extent and with additional perception of momentum, but it began the needed transition as he doctored my arm.)
Morning of August 18, 2017. Friday. I seem to be in bed with Zsuzsanna. However, our bed seems to be in the backyard of our present home with our heads oriented south (with the same left and right orientation as we are sleeping in reality). It is full daylight out. Still, there is an odd sense of bilocation of which is not defined in the usual way. A boy of about ten years old comes into our backyard a few times from our neighbor’s backyard. He is unknown and unfamiliar, though implied to be the neighbor’s son (though this “neighbor” is also an unknown character). I display a bit of anger and aggression and he goes back each time, somehow going over the fence, though it seems somewhat like the old metal fence that was not very high. He has a somewhat condescending nature. My awareness shifts and my dream changes orientation. Now our bed is in the Loomis Street living room, our heads west, opposite the front entrance. Once again, the boy is imposing by coming in through the front door, which may have been left open. I do not express much anger. His father, an unknown chubby male of about thirty and with red hair, also comes in through the door as if he had been uncertain as to where his son had gotten off to. I nod and I do not express any anger at the imposition of either, almost as if their ridiculous intrusions do not matter at this point. The other man seems friendly and calm. Nothing relevant to waking life (on a personal level) is to be found here; just the usual dreaming and waking symbolism, here rendered as doorway waking symbolism, though in many cases, a distorted rendering of the emergent consciousness, mixed in with dynamics of the preconscious (sometimes as a “monster”) remains within a doorway rather than viably using a door or doorway. I can only guess that these two unknown characters were related to unconsciously perceiving (remote viewing) random unknown people in the area as I was sleeping, the boy linked into the transpersonal stream via the preconscious while his father linked to the emergent consciousness, a dynamic that has often occurred in past dreams. The fence is a clue, as a fence symbolizes a division in levels of consciousness within the dream state and of course our being in bed is simply an indicator of being in the dream state. It has remained obvious through tens of thousands of dreams for over fifty years, that the transpersonal preconscious stream integrates found personas that are the least like the conscious self identity, for that is the only real way, excluding willing coalescence, that the dream self attains enough emotion (through aggravation, conflict, or other emotions) to come out of the dream state under many conditions. Otherwise, the “ripples” of neural energy are unlikely to increase and the dreamer would remain in the dream. Waking and waking prompts are a biological necessity, yet most of humanity does not even come close to grasping the simplest concepts concerning dreams or their purpose or meaning.
Morning of August 18, 2017. Friday. I become aware that I am some sort of informal prison guard, yet I also apparently live with the prisoners, though atop a mostly featureless vertically-oriented rectangular prism with only a large mattress present. The size-orientation relating to perspective is oddly distorted, as the prisoners seem only about one-fourth the size they should be relative to distance. I do not really consider this distortion as such while in my dream. It is apparently my job, or at least my turn, to feed the prisoners who begin to gather far below. I have a large bag of chocolate Chex cereal. I throw down the pieces in small amounts as the prisoners gather to eat with their hands (as there are no bowls or silverware visible). Looking around, I notice a prisoner casually walking out a main door into a hall. I do not call out or say anything, though I am not fully sure of the situation. An unfamiliar female guard notices this but does not get to them in time, so I assume that the prisoner has escaped. This seems to happen again later with a different prisoner who goes through a door in another area, perpendicular to the first. In the last scene, a couple other prisoners are somehow atop the prism near me. I seem to be ready to sleep now. I feel the other male is a bit too close to me, but I do not say anything. He does not seem a threat, but his physical presence is somewhat intrusive. This seems partly based on our youngest daughter accidentally spilling part of a bowl of Coco Pops Chex cereal onto Zsuzsanna from above and behind prior to sleeping. Zsuzsanna immediately got up to have a shower and there were Coco Pops Chex pieces here and there on the way to the bathroom and in the bathroom. Still, an additional association may be because they are somewhat cushion-shaped (as a subliminal dream state indicator). There may also be some sort of connection between “prism” and “prison”, as they sound similar. Atypically, the personified unconscious seems to be the female prison guard - which is the opposite of the preconscious (though the unconscious does not usually appear to deliberately hold a dreamer in the dream state, which seems rather strange to me other than for circadian rhythms factors). This dream seems to otherwise move towards typical doorway waking symbolism (as did another dream of this date though also atypically), except that my emergent consciousness seems to be projected from a distance (“escaping” twice) due to my direct perspective (as the personified subconscious aka dream self) already perceiving that I am in bed and lying down atop the prism. Ambiguous multiplicity has occurred a number of times before in waking symbolism. This is certainly not the first time I have been elevated above the rest of my dream’s setting, which simply means that I am closer to waking in a rendering of liminal space (often with increased physical awareness as in this case). In this case, it is even more obvious as I am already “back in bed”.
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