Boy with a Beard
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, 04-24-2018 at 07:26 AM (332 Views)
Morning of April 24, 2018. Tuesday.
In my dream, my family and I, mostly as we appear now (except for our youngest son’s beard), are living in an unusual expanded distortion of the King Street mansion (where I have not lived in real life for nearly thirty years). It is most like the second-floor room of the middle of the east side, though the room seems to take up the whole section in my dream, additionally replacing at least the northeast room. There is also another section that is oriented north, forming an inverted corner, implying that the building is either L-shaped or cross-shaped.
In two vivid scenes, it seems I am on the first floor of this building. I look diagonally across to the perpendicular section, at a second-floor window, where a strange dark cloud seems to be blown out from inside, which also seemingly contains at least a few particulates. I get the impression that it is an older woman who lives there who is emptying her vacuum cleaner by spewing the contents out into the air. I consider that this is not a very considerate act but I never see the person and I do not become angry.
In another scene, there are at least three people yelling at each other across the street, but I never see them or clearly discern what they are saying.
The main part of my dream concerns our youngest son. I see that he now has a very bushy thick beard which unrealistically curls upward. Despite how strange this seems, my dream self does not perceive it as a dream state indicator. I worry about him. Although he otherwise looks like our youngest son (other than the beard), he acts very differently. I tell him I will trim it down or shave it off but he does not want me to. Oddly, I mention how his beard is even thicker than our second-youngest son’s beard (who of course does not have a beard either, but this is yet another nonsensical error in my dream self’s thinking.)
Eventually, Zsuzsanna convinces him that it will be good to at least trim it down. When I see him later, I observe that it is shaved on one side but only closely trimmed on the other.
There is an additional scene that is the typical RAS modulation, where the preconscious, as an unknown businessman, points a box saw at my chest (the blade downward, only the front end touching me), but I am not concerned. He had been part of a group of people watching us through a window, which is modeled after my childhood room in Cubitis, though seemingly on a fictional second floor and from the south. (The settings in my dreams typically change ambiguously, never being rendered the same way twice in over fifty years and tens of thousands of closely studied dreams.) This is a non-lucid carryover from the lucid dream of yesterday, where I willed a different form of the preconscious to split in half (though I then “healed” it by willing the two body halves back together). Maybe someday people will understand that my dream’s content, when it is not prescient (or with the inexplicable “sent” factor) or dominated by RAS modulation, is mainly based on my focus and knowledge of the dream state itself (how could it not be) rather than waking life, but there seems to be a “wall” in the minds of most people that prevents them from understanding what a dream actually is (inclusive of most people who have published books about dreams).
As I have written many times in past entries, at least one dream per sleep cycle is somehow influenced by what Zsuzsanna had seen or talked about (or in some cases only thought about) at another location the day before with no way of me knowing. This was going on long before we met, long before I learned my “dream girl” was a real person. Society, not having any intelligence at all when it comes to understanding dreams or the dream state, instead writing mindless tomes about “interpretation” (which completely ignores the dynamics of what a dream actually is) has neither viable answers to this mechanism nor an iota of credibility in general. There have been people who have studied this phenomenon and written about it to some extent, but just as with the truth of dreams in their basic form inherently being autosymbolic (not symbolic in the popular sense), society remains without any understanding of dreams.
In this case, Zsuzsanna had been with our youngest son yesterday and there was a conversation involving her brother George (here for a visit for the first time in months). They were at Zsuzsanna’s sister’s place and George was talking about a man with a very bushy beard. Often though, the correlating factors are more unusual.