Blue_Opossum

Morning of November 3, 2018. Saturday.

Dream #: 18,947-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



I enter my dream in a very unusual way for a morning dream. The process is so slow that I am hardly aware of the distinction between my waking thoughts and the dreamscape slowly coming into existence. (This usually only occurs in the first stage of a sleep cycle.) My conscious self identity remains fully aware. I walk into an isolated area that looks like a construction site with minimal detail.

I decide to find Zsuzsanna (even though she is physically close to me in reality). There is a trailer home oriented lengthwise in the middle of a dirt road. I walk around to the other side, deciding that she will be in it. The door is too small for me to go into the structure, so I mentally will the whole wall to vanish.

After she comes out, I stand with Zsuzsanna, kissing her. My state of apex lucidity is slightly glitchy. Although it is otherwise very realistic, her face glows at times and seems transparent. There is a curious quivering effect.

Later, I start to throw knives at random unknown people whom I see as intruding into my dream space. They mostly go into chests and sometimes heads. There is no blood or gore.

I eventually reach a point where the setting solidifies to where I am looking at a window screen (liminal space divider). It now seems to be dark out. I cannot believe how perfect and even the screen is. It defies my imagination with its evenness and perfections and remains stable until I wake. I try to create a monster to come up (to whatever building I am in) from the other side of the screen - to press its face against it.

I imagine an ugly gargoyle coming up to the screen from the darkness outside. There is no change in the window or the screen’s detail. The screen remains perfect, and no monster ever appears. I get annoyed, trying to force my imagination as much as I can to come up with the ugliest monster possible, and start growling loudly to encourage the process. Nothing happens. I continue to make loud growling sounds while anticipating the appearance of a horrifying creature. Nothing appears. I realize my conscious self identity is too integrated within the dream state to allow something implausible to manifest at this point. If I were less lucid, I would probably have more dream control. A window screen represents the essence of the preconscious function (reticular activating system), so ultimately it is pointless to bring something imaginary from the other side of it. I have absentmindedly attempted this in many past dreams without success.

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The part with the knives seemingly stems from Zsuzsanna looking at a Deadpool knife block recently, but she had not told me about it. (They were in his head.) At least one dream per sleep cycle is telepathic (for lack of a better word), often with more precise detail depending on the nature of the feature or event.

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