Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 13, 2018. Monday.

Reading time: 1 min 40 sec. Readability score: 64.



In my dream, I am about 14 years old again. I am living in Cubitis, with my parents, though the usual ambiguity comes in later, where I have at least a few threads of my current conscious self identity, and I am aware of my oldest son, though perceived as younger than he now is. However, I have no recall of our current address as is often the case and my presumed age in my dream is not in conflict with my real current age even though my son would be older than me if my dream self’s age is correct.

The north area of the living room has a large table. My parents are selling fruit, and members of the public come into our house to buy it.

An unfamiliar older woman comes in to get persimmons. However, she mentions that they have bruises, and I see that most of them are in a bowl and probably overripe. She seems very cheerful and friendly but leaves without buying anything.

Later, my son seems upset, and a strange yellow fluid flows out of his right eye, on the right side as he cries, almost building up like a wave of cake icing. It seems bizarre to me, and I know something is not right, which causes me to wake up rather than resolve it while still in my dream.

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For now, I am going to assume there is no precognitive thread here related to health. Yellow is what I use (both in infra-awareness and lucidity) to initiate clarity of consciousness in the dream state (and have done so since around age three). Coming from the right side of his right eye, it is a direct association with moving toward the waking side in REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep. (I sleep on my left side for the most part.) Autosymbolism integrating subliminal, liminal, or lucid awareness of REM itself is not nearly as common as the vestibular system correlation from balance or imbalance of the illusory fictitious dream body with the real physical body in sleep.

The rest of the content comes from two different events, one being Zsuzsanna’s mother leaving overripe fruit on our porch that spoils, the other from having so many passionfruit, that some are becoming overripe.

When I lived with my parents in Cubitis, they had a store for a few years. Business was on the carport or in the shed (where my father also raised and sold rabbits and fishing worms), not inside our house.

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