dream fragment

Morning of January 9, 2014. Thursday.



This is fairly short in detail, but not that short a dream. Five of my friends from my school days have died (possibly at the same time), including males Steve W and Bill W. There may be only one female in the group - I am mostly only certain of two of the male identities (perhaps a third being John C, who swallowed a tack in fifth grade and he thought he was going to die, but nothing happened to him from that event). I am at a computer at my (seeming) home at one point - I think I am facing south, but it is an unfamiliar apartment. For some reason, my five friends are to be entombed in my house.

I have a small “coffin”, possibly only about three or four feet long, yet somehow all five of the full skeletons fit in the one box longways (not sure why all five are supposed to be put together - they were not related in real life). There is a bit of sadness (not intense) and a vague thought regarding my own mortality. I am to store the “casket” near the computer desk. Logically, to be skeletons, either they had died some time ago (which does not seem to be the case) or some special method was used to both shrink and reduce them to only bone. I also am not even sure if they had been interred elsewhere for some time. This other character (unknown) just shows up and the theme unfolds.

I do notice that their skulls seem a bit “too small” at one point, yet realistically, they were correct size in my dream on afterthought, yet somehow they all still fit full-body in the box. There does not seem to be any logical reason why I am to be the “caretaker” of their bones (other than perhaps that I am the only remaining living one alive of their age or group, or perhaps class regarding a certain grade - unsure). As of this writing, they are all still alive.

In another dream, we are back living at Duffy Street and my father comes by with a few bags of groceries. For some reason, I am not alert to the implications of my dream. Then again, it could have actually been an older version of myself, as, in afterthought, I am not fully sure anymore. Maybe I will look in a mirror twenty years from now and check. The building seemed mirror-imaged (reversed east to west) to its actual design.

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Morning of January 7, 2014. Tuesday.



My family and I seem to be living in a completely unfamiliar larger house in a rural area. Although the environment is not stressful, it still seems somewhat “off” in some ways. It does seem part of a larger one-storey apartment building at times - or two or three buildings very close together or partly connected. It is possible that aspects of this place will turn out to be related to a place we may live or visit (as with relatives) in the future, as that has often been the case in the past (with considerable detail) since earliest memory. There is a point at which I clean up a bit in a back room which seems to be some sort of immediate-outside-access utility room or ground-level open (on two-sides) porch. I pick up a few things and move some potted plants for the most part. There are at least two other older people in the area, a woman and a man (but not living together). Our living area seems to be the biggest, though. Not much happens. I remember a strange argument with an elderly lady that has something to do with getting (and having) more even when one does not want or need more. This is perhaps vaguely related to my wife’s mother, who always spent a bit extra to have a lot more vegetables and fruit, but which always sat around rotting and going to waste. She turned her entire lawns into gardens which then went to weeds and caused problems for the property owners. She even sent us a large box of bananas once (which my wife is allergic to) and they were rotting at the post office. Another time, she wanted to give my wife a large bag of bananas (that were already in a state of decay), but did not seem to know her own daughter’s health history (I guess because she was too busy fabricating it for hospitals and agencies). The idea of having a lot of something which you neither need nor want seems somewhat futile, but the woman in my dream seems to think that is “the” (right) way to live, apparently, an odd twist on “having enough”, I suppose. I feel sort of unusual trying to explain our situation to her (and how we do not want rotten food sitting around everywhere), but I am not sure if she sees me as intelligent.

This, in part, may also relate somewhat to a local grocery store (the only one that does this, in fact, actually the only store I ever saw do this in my lifetime) that tries to sell fruits and vegetables in an advanced stage of rotting (set on shelves in larger plastic bags, often leaking), for not even that much of a markdown. Thus, that one whole side of the store sometimes smells really bad. Can you imagine carrying a large leaking bag of rotting grapes to the checkout and trying to maintain a casual, sane expression, because I cannot.

The other dream related to going to what at first seems like a class reunion. However, I do not know anyone there and they are all much younger than me, so the “reunion” makes little sense. However, it may also be that the newer students are attending the reunion as a sort of courtesy or a celebration of the fact it has been serving the region for so long (as it seems members of the city council are there). There is some sort of yearbook which has very unusual writing in it, including some rather strange and rude paragraphs regarding male genitals (which loosely relates to a real-life event which I will describe at the end of this entry), which one younger male points out in a humorous sense. Time passes and I do not see anyone I actually know. However, it turns out that I am the prom “king” and am paired with LR - she was more like a nemesis in real life in my middle school years. However, I do not see her anywhere, either. I get a vague impression, though, that we will have to go up in front of everyone and that I will have to make a speech. I am not thrilled over the idea of standing up and making a speech, so I decide to leave just prior to when they are announcing the prom’s king and queen. Interestingly, my wife told me that she had been thinking of the movie “Carrie” (with no clues or recent history as such, or making any mention of it to me) which has a paranormal-related prom scene. These “funny” little connections (and seeming telepathy) happen all the time, even steadily after twenty years, sometimes even in a fully conscious state now.

I never went to a high-school prom or class reunion in real life, although I did go to the eighth-grade prom (but not with LR) - and, though I was on two of the lists, did not win any of the titles thank goodness (one for “most talkative’, one for "best-looking”). In real life, at the eighth-grade prom, someone had put on a 45 of Chuck Berry’s “My Ding-a-ling” and the chaperone looked appalled, immediately taking off the record as everyone did a seemingly aggravated collective groan over the act.

This is the first dream (first hour, in fact) of January 1, 2014. Wednesday.



My dream mostly involves watching a live stage and audience-participation performance of “Ragtime Cowboy Joe” that keeps going on and on…and on. It actually gets fairly tedious and there is a mechanical bull contest as well. Even a barbershop quartet sings it as they move to various locations around the Concordia in Wisconsin (setting), where my father performed it in real life years ago (as well as on the radio shows many years back), the hall of which seems filled with people from various time periods, even the “roaring twenties”. There is also a loose association with “Table Top Joe” (“Alice” album by Tom Waits).

Real-life memories come back indirectly and then more fully. I had planned a “jumping-jack” puppet show using thinner but commercial cardboard cutouts (from the Popsicle product) and Popsicle sticks, but decided it was not professional-looking enough. It was “Ragtime Cowboy Joe” we (the other students and I) had planned. Instead, I basically ruined the show with a dog hand-puppet and my voice could not be heard so I just introduced the next classmate (who could not hear me until I slowly yelled his name a couple of times - ironically he is now a well-known singer based in Germany), accidentally (absentmindedly) calling his seashell collection “rocks”. He was not quite prepared yet and did not look too happy and blundered his way through the names and locations in a seemingly sad voice.

That memory triggers a similar later real-life scene (from fifth grade, likely because of the line “How they run, when they hear this fellow’s gun” of the former song) where I used finger-puppets. (Can you imagine someone in fifth grade using finger puppets at a performance in this day and age?) It was a family of rabbits. I can still remember “Bang bang went the gun, see the little rabbits run” which I intoned so mechanically, the whole class sat dazed. My face felt hot for an hour. However, I was involved with other shows that were not that bad.

The third memory before shifting back to the maddening crowd is when my father made a life-sized jumping-jack puppet from thin wood and old antenna cord, representing a “Martian”.

Morning of December 22, 2013. Sunday.



This dream was fairly short. The sun is producing small but powerful CMEs (coronal mass ejection) that come out more like very fast-traveling small hot stones with special properties (somewhat as if from a volcano). There is an unknown dream character that reminds me vaguely of Donald Sutherland.

Some of the “stones” are yellow, some orange or red. They are mostly about the size of a computer mouse. The “Donald” character appears to be nervous about the sun’s unpredictable “behavior”. I cannot recall too many dreams all in all (especially over the last twenty years) where I had real fear (sometimes it is feigned or understood to be previously instigated by my own will) and even in this dream, I see myself at one point as cartoon-like when running from supposed danger.

The stones sometimes crash through the ceiling, melting building structures in their path, apparently; even metal at times.

They seem to be able to project a sort of lightning-like “web” that moves through the air rapidly, putting a person in a “hot cocoon” or cocoon-like construct. I do not think the victims survive. Perhaps the “stones” are a shape-shifting “solar spider” slightly similar to that so-called (fictional of course) “found footage” movie “Apollo 18”.

The floating plasma “web” moves through the air, but I do not think it has special sensing abilities, as they can be dodged fairly easily and cool down fairly quickly unless they are somehow “activated” into the “active” cocoon stage. I do not see the “stones” move much, either. Interesting science-fiction concept, though, I suppose.

There was also a short dream that almost led into sleep paralysis. I very much enjoy sleep paralysis even though many people claim it is usually unpleasant for them. My sleep paralysis stages themselves are almost always ecstatic with a strong sense of healing energy moving through my body, almost like a buzzing, pleasant “electricity”, and an intense, focused awareness which I really like, although I am often aware of another “presence” but not a threatening one, often somewhat “angelic”.

This short scene though, seemed to involve three men running around randomly, each with a gun; a cowboy (perhaps a marshal or sheriff) from the 1800s, a member of (I think) the Italian mafia, and a random businessman trying to protect himself from the other two. They are running in “circles” around a square area that is actually the outer hallway of a building that goes all the way around the central area that may only be one room (or possibly a larger work area). Not much happens. It reminds me vaguely of a scene from “Tickle Me” (the Elvis movie) where the man in the horror-movie mask runs down the hall and turns sharply, throwing his hand up in an artificial-looking contrived manner just before going around the corner.

Morning of December 19, 2013. Thursday.



This was an intriguing dream, though not really much drama, based on indirect associations from pulsing certain affirmations relating to creation of something new which brought about the “steel foundry” theme, I think. I do not really associate human-like beings with black eyes (including the sclerotic coat) as having “evil” in them as many people do (thanks to their influence from “Supernatural”, probably). Some people have been seemingly suspicious of me in my past due to having near-black eyes (except of course for the sclerotic coat) which I have actually gotten complaints on. Can you imagine? I associate completely black eyes, for the most part, with an undeveloped or unknown element. Tulpas will develop black eyes after a time (depending on other factors) sometimes going back to “normal”, the reverse being a “quivering bright silver”, which seems to be the highest form.

Here, the “black-eyed aliens” seem to represent the new “recently born” (and deliberate on my part) tulpa constructs coming in to deliberately oust some of the annoying archetypes of the past, particularly those with very limited intelligence that persist in frequenting certain domains (but not all by any stretch of the imagination). On the Internet, you will find references to “Black-Eyed Children Encounters” as in one claim that they are alien-human hybrids, something I find hilarious, as humans cannot even reproduce with other species on their own planet, let alone from another planet, even other primate groups, such as chimpanzees, where the DNA is oh so close. I simply do not have that level of imagination, as you cannot “unlearn” something you already know (which is why I do not dream about zombies, I guess). They never seem a threat to me - in fact, here in most of this dream, they actually seem a bit fearful of normal humans and most of them are in hiding (although they communicate tentatively with me, seeming to want instructions at times).

In humans, the pupils dilate to let in more light. In tulpas, as I said in another entry, this potential is unlimited, and thus completely black eyes are a result. They dilate “to see as much of the world as possible”.

I am visiting my sister at her old address on Loomis Street in the USA. She seems concerned about a new steel foundry being built so close to her house that one outer wall of her house seems to be in the works of either being shared by one of the buildings or possibly damaged. The foundry and many associated larger buildings are mostly being worked on to the north. This is likely my dream “complaining” about new potential constructs of stronger levels being “enforced” against old thinking habits, perhaps. Many very strange vehicles travel by her house and there is a concern about strong odors, noise, and heat that already seems somewhat of a serious problem regarding peace-of-mind livability.

Meanwhile, there is another scene prior to this I should include. I am walking in a very large, mostly featureless green field (although I can see large dense forests in the distance, which seems to be our destination) with a young black-eyed girl. She seems to be wearing a gymnastics outfit with a Yin and Yang design theme and a high, swept-back wiry tiara. We are sharing some sort of private joke relating to the overall events going on. Apparently, all of humanity (although I sense my family is not there and has equal freedom as I do) is being held back by a large silvery steel fence from horizon to horizon. Some of them are putting their arms between the bars in an attempt to get our attention. Most of those closest to the gate itself seem to be from environments that had not nurtured them in their lifetime - and so they seem hostile to anyone visibly appearing healthy or successful in any way. I hear one of them scream “You son of a b—h!” but it is not clear at all if they are yelling at me or someone near them that is annoying them (it seems more likely to be a fight amongst themselves, though, rather than any attention given to me). Looking back, the number of people stopped by the fence seems almost endless, all the way to the distant horizon behind us - or almost every human being on Earth. “Human DNA is so volatile,” says the girl.

The black-eyed girl waves her hand and another steel fence materializes fairly quickly from the ground, again from horizon to horizon relative to each side of us, although it does not seem needed, so is a bit of “overkill” (almost to a comedic effect). The “joke” we are sharing relates to the complaint of a lottery winner which I think originated from a “Nancy” comic strip many years ago - although I have heard it elsewhere. The gag is that, even though the person won the lottery, he is angry that he wasted money on buying two tickets when he supposedly did not need the second. (Seriously, though, it is not that funny, as the win could have been a result of the second ticket rather than the first). This may relate to a very recent real-life event. My second-youngest son won a prize at a Christmas party, so he got to blindly select the next winner from a bucket held high. Of all the people, he picked (by pure blind chance) his younger brother as the next prize winner. This was a fun and positive social night for them.

Anyhow, after this, the dream mostly shifts into the city scene (which has an additional appearance later on after other sections). After this, is a “twilight” dream section. I and several other people are watching strange, long and cylindrical objects in the sky. These long, thin cylinders are mostly a lighter blue but with a wider black band in the center, somewhat like a cigarette with a filter in the middle rather than on the tip (or perhaps like a cigarette mirrored symmetrically to its filter tip). We watch for quite some time, with a sort of enthusiasm. However, one of these ships seems to crash in slow motion through one of the steel foundry buildings (curiously seeming to stay at a forty-five degree angle the whole time) and we have to avoid the flying parts from both the spacecraft and the building, which does not seem difficult. However, at the same time, it also seems to transform into a machine that is reworking the design of the building at the same time the inertia from the crash is still active. Later on, I am approached by one of the aliens in a very passive way, but I just tell them to relax and enjoy their lives. They do not seem to have any ulterior motives and are living in the city without incident or being bothered by the humans even after the crash of one of their ships.

The dream shifts again in that I am looking at various time periods in my past, yet everything has changed. I enter my Rose Street apartment as a boy, and find a Japanese family living there instead and so I feel a bit strange/imposing at my intrusion. History has somehow changed - or maybe I am actually in the future rather than the past (although the Rose Street building burnt down years ago - and there now seems to be a business building there in the same area in real life). I check out another home I had in my youth and there are now different (seemingly Tibetan) people having had a history of living there all that time, a married couple and five children (the same as my immediate family in real life). It is not a negative experience, just a bit “different” - and I actually enjoy talking to these (unknown) people. All in all, the dream seemed to created a positive feeling, regardless of the rather meandering plot.

Update: On some levels, this dream turned out to be highly precognitive of my sister’s illness and death.

Morning of December 18, 2013. Wednesday.



In one dream, we appear to be visiting an (unknown) person on the right side of a T-section dock in a larger boathouse (seemingly part of a strange composite using the Salton Sea, California, the Mississippi near La Crosse, and an area near the Florida Keys). There is another boathouse mirrored almost exactly to the opposite side of the T-section dock. The owner we know in my dream is probably about forty years old. There is an area for a small motorboat near the right-front that is almost like a connected garage (at water level) so that the boat comes up almost to the front door of the boathouse. The man seems to be sharing a story based on a recent event where he thought that a visitor was very unintelligent because they asked why he did not have an additional place for the boat near the back of the boathouse so that when he travels from a trip in the other direction, it would supposedly be “easier” to moor (even though the only door is on the front of the boathouse). Apparently the person was also looking at the far-right area for another potential spot to moor (in case the boat had been traveling from that direction as well). It seems very amusing for him. Apparently, he also seems to indicate that the other person thought that if a person is traveling from the left of the T-section, he would reach the other boathouse and never get to his (not having enough intelligence to know that you can just go around). This was rather odd and impersonal for a dream. It could possibly relate more to persistent stubbornness rather than a lack of intelligence. For example, a person may stop near you as if you are “in their way”, when they could just walk around you with little effort or difficulty. There was, however, a person in real life that we used to see who would actually stop when there was anything in front of him, even a division of the sidewalk or a particularly dark line on the floor of a store’s aisle (as if it were a “wall”). This relates to some sort of condition, but I do not presently recall the name. It was unusual seeing someone do this. He acted as if he could not get past implied two-dimensional “barriers”. I never really watched or stared, so I do not know what he eventually did as I left the scene. He also stopped near our baby pram once even though it was to the right of him and nowhere near being in his way, so I just turned around and went the other direction.

In the other dream, we are living in the same house as a person who lives near us on the same street in one direction (but across an alleyway - we live in a corner house) in real life, but whom we do not see very often (he rarely seems to be actually living there over longer time periods) and do not know very well. I am walking around in a seemingly shared living area, yet there also seems to be features of a very large, but partly divided bedroom. I am hearing sound from an adjoining room which seems a bit too loud (as I do not want the other people in the house to complain) - although I am not sure if it is that late at night. I thought it might be some sort of anechoic chamber in part - it seems to be a very large television (false memory) on the other side of the wall, and apparently it is an old monster movie or something similar, so I go to tell a family member to turn the volume down while in the doorway, the other room with the television being mostly dark. I am not sure what the movie is. It seems to be a fictional variation of “Village of the Giants” from 1965 based on what the other man says.

The other man is also walking near the same area, but does not seem to mind the television’s volume level (he may have been planning to get something from the refrigerator to take back to his area). He even watches the movie that is on for about three minutes or so although I actually never face or see the screen of the television, as I remain mostly in the implied larger bedroom area. He says with a sort of odd curious interest (perhaps nostalgia), “Oh…there are TWO giant women in this movie, and this one is dancing, look at that stomach…”

Meanwhile, I am going back to get some pens and pencils. Some of the pens are felt markers of a larger variety of colors as well as normal ballpoints. I seem to have permission from the other man for some reason to use one of his pens. The large group of pens is mine, yet when I place them on someone’s bed temporarily (as there are a bit too many and it is a clumsy effort to get them to the desk on my side), they get mixed up with other people’s pens. I am annoyed, as I do not want to be accused of “stealing pens”, so I finally manage to get them separated before the other man walks back to his apparent living area. In real life, we assume his wife had died, as we have not seen her for a long time, but when he comes back into this room, he is making strange comments about her (I guess she is in a different adjoining room than the other). I then notice funny toy heads hanging from the wall (which I had not noticed before), similar to the toy shrunken heads of years ago, one with bright orange hair sticking out from each side (but bald otherwise), which seems to represent his wife, as if displayed as some sort of nostalgic gift.

The third dream was fairly short and somewhat distorted. There was another boathouse-related scene, but as if from a movie. There is a creature that looks much like the one from “The Monster That Challenged the World” (1957), but is much smaller, only about the size of a person. It is apparently a male creature. He moves his head up from the water that is filled with smaller debris (of mostly greenish and yellowish hues) and starts going “Yerp, yerp, yerp”. Apparently the movie is called “The Yerper”…rather senseless. He does not seem like a threat and the “yerp” sound is not really imposing.

Morning of December 13, 2013. Friday.



This is another dream about a “dream power”, the most common ones for me being continuous telekinesis and hovering as if there is no gravity to speak of relating to the human body only (as nothing else floats). Hovering usually brings about very vivid and full lucidity. Telekinesis, on the other hand, does not usually bring about anything other than semi-lucidity, yet with an orientation that the power is also “real” in real life.

This is a longer dream, but keeps repeating the same scenarios where I simply bring a white glass mug on a table up into the palm of my right hand by mental will alone. My sister Marilyn watches at times, seeming only slightly surprised. This is an effortless dream power for the most part, much like hovering – which simply requires lifting both legs up slightly and remaining in the air, and from there, actually flying.

The effect, when it comes to objects, is very much like a trick I had done in real life years ago, where a rubber-band (fixed within the cuff of a shirt) is used to bring something into your hand. The speed and force is very realistic in my dream.

In this particular dream, I test various distances, even from across the room, and am successful at it. I almost cannot even see the object from where I am guiding it swiftly through the air from, but it still works in all instances. This dream is mostly with the white glass mug. In other dreams, I had spent most of the time willing doors closed or open with equal success. There is no “shadow play” in this one (as is often the case) as I am only vaguely aware it is a dream – yet, again, somehow still in regards to practicing a supposedly real ability.

In the last part of my dream, I go outside and yet am still able to will the mug to fly out from the house to where I am (about two houses away and on the sidewalk) and straight into my hand. My family is to my right on Loomis Street. There is a confused man with a gun in the middle of the street as we watch from the sidewalk on the western side of the street.

With little effort, I make him drop the gun by directing some sort of telekinetic force at it - and then cause it to slide along the street, continuously just out of his reach as he chases after it upon each longer slide (of about five feet). I do this about six or seven times and it gets to be a bit annoying, as he is still within nearly attainable distance of the gun at times. Then, a somewhat mentally “slow” man walking from the north looks in our direction. I mentally will him to pick up the gun (as he seems to have little mental will of his own) and shoot the other man in both feet (just enough to take off a bit of the outside). Nothing much happens after that other than the other man tending to the pain in his feet and no longer posing a threat.

Morning of June 6, 2013. Thursday.



In my dream, we are back living in Brisbane. Our house is different and does not have higher steps, the inside being much like our real place there, but the front porch area being most like the King Street boarding house with the upstairs apartments. Our son Lorenzo is playing with three younger blonde girls, racing around inside and out, who are happily going in and out of our house while being yelled at by a slightly older girl not to be in our house. They are dressed very formally with fancy hairstyles, as if for a formal event for the very wealthy.

I soon notice that something dramatic is going on next-door; there are a lot of people, for some reason, standing on top of wobbly old wooden step-ladders, watching the action as if at some sort of baseball game at the park. The house next door is on fire, but I do not see any actual flames or smoke. It seems that a Christmas tree had somehow caught fire in their attic. The people with the hose (no firemen around, but a couple policemen in black wandering around not doing anything) are aiming the water up and directly through the small attic window from a fair distance away. I hear a young couple crying loudly and holding their hands together, but there does not seem to be anything to really cry about, as I see no actual damage anywhere at all.

It seems strange that all these people are just standing up on ladders and balancing on the fence just to look at that house when nothing is really visible, even the supposed fire. I call out sort of absentmindedly to the nearest man standing atop a step-ladder, “Oh, I didn’t even know about this…”, but most of these people seem more amused or entertained than having concern for the owners or tenants, even though it also seems they were there to help at first.

I become semi-lucid and notice something strange regarding perspective. Their house, on the side nearest to our house, seems to go past my line of sight towards and behind me - to seemingly take up the same space (from my viewpoint near the corner of our house) as our house would otherwise be, an “impossible” perspective, yet somehow at the same time, it also seems to be a completely empty region or undefined area where neither house is.

This last part with the ladders relates to typical waking metaphors. Someone on a ladder relates to getting closer to waking consciousness, a fire relates to growing conscious awareness, and something going through a window implies leaving the dream state. The water though, indicates a subtle desire to become lucid (though goes through the window instead, similar to the “water getting lower over time” waking metaphor).

Morning of October 15, 2012. Monday.



In my dream, I am lying in our bed and I am concerned about the garbage truck being too close to our house as well as being perpendicular to the street itself. At one point, it seems backed up almost to our bedroom window. The scenario repeats several times in a row. I look out and see that the robotic arm is much longer than in reality and somehow towers very high into the air (emergent consciousness rendering). It appears to be holding a larger commercial bin (which looks a lot smaller due to its supposed distance from my perspective). It is almost dizzying to consider such a high position. Nothing threatening happens (such as our house or window being damaged or the larger pieces of rubbish falling out near our house, as it almost seems might happen) but I continue to have a vague concern without being directly angry.

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Anyone who understands the basic meanings of dreams (excluding personal associations with unique details and features which only the dreamer could possibly understand) will easily pick out the waking transition here. “Something coming down” (representing the waking process) in this case is the robotic arm of the garbage truck (robotic as a dream sign that renders the “artificial” perspective of the dream state) as well as implied falling debris. As most people would know, garbage or junk in a dream represents “unwanted data”, that is, ideas or thoughts that have proven to be without real long-term use (including other people’s negative ideas).

Even though this is a very basic waking transition, it is quite different than other types, say one that utilize an airplane landing, a meteor falling, or a bird landing, all with the same primary meaning but with different implications. This dream was likely a “repeat” (in metaphor) of reading more than my share of garbage on this date. The garbage truck itself represents the linear “cleanup” of recent thinking processes. Something being “too close” to one’s house relates to the liminal energies regarding circadian rhythms and full waking. Of course, being in bed in the dream state is the most obvious dream sign of all and the most obvious metaphor for sleeping and dreaming (yet I do not become lucid).

Night of July 9, 2009. Thursday.



Characters from the television series “24” appear in this dream as a main basis of the plot (other than the main character, curiously enough). I am not even “in” my dream; I am just watching it as if it were a series of “real” events in the United States via some sort of implied remote-viewing rather than being associated with a television show at any point. There is no emotion expressed from my own perspective, although a female reporter seems upset and concerned (and seemingly bewildered by the decisions and actions of the leaders).

For some reason, Ethan Kanin (Bob Gunton) is the “new” president, while the president from the actual show (Cherry Jones) seems to be either vice president or just an adviser or even only a reporter at one point(?). This character rendering lacks cohesion in my dream.

At any rate, he seems annoyed at the present state of affairs regarding other nations (and diplomacy has apparently failed in every way). He gives “the” final order, which is “Raise the right horn!” The lady (Cherry) looks concerned and asks someone else what it could mean. It is too late. The whole sky grows dark and it is seemingly the end of the United States as Cherry “looks out the window” which is actually just a wall without a window(?) or transparent at one point(?) and there is a rumbling and hissing. For some reason, what he said meant that other “enemy” countries would immediately launch missiles at the USA, which really makes no sense at all. I suppose it could have meant that it was the United States which had attacked all of the other countries first, but the events unfold too fast for that to have been the case.

Original notes (July 2009): I am not sure of the meaning in this one. Perhaps “horn” relates to the trumpet blown by the angel in the so-called Last Days, or maybe it relates to right-wing politics. Hard to say, presently. It may even relate to the “devil’s” horn gaining power, yet it is “right”, not “wrong” (or “left”?), although the exact meaning is not clear.

Added (present) notes of November 2013. Several years after this dream, there is coincidentally one Google match on fark.com, but not exact (it being “Raise the right horn of you. Oh wait you only have the one horn!” apparently in reference to joking with the unicorn persona of another forum member). A “horn” could also be a telephone or associated with a particular telephone call within the White House of which I am quite surprised that I had not included in my original notes.

Night of January 10, 1991. Thursday.

Dream Number 47,590 (original system). Optimized 1 minute 45 second read.



Waking-Life Factors Underlying this Dreaming Experience:

I had slept about 15 hours, the longest I ever slept in my life. It was a cold evening, and I had felt unwell. I wrapped myself in blankets and slept on the floor of the northwest corner of the sun parlor of the Loomis Street house in La Crosse, Wisconsin. My head was northward. I was sleeping on my left side in a fetal position.

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Dream Content:

I stand near the doorway in the bathroom of the Cubitis house. There is not much light (at first) other than a soft yellowish glow from outside via the small window, but it seems to be nighttime. Several unknown people are standing around, and their attention is on an unfamiliar man on a motorcycle. He readies himself to perform a stunt.

The motorcycle turns slightly, moving from its orientation toward the toilet to being in line with the window, its headlight brightening. The motorcycle rises into the air with a soft mechanical humming, going toward the window, simultaneously "shrinking" (caused by distorted distance perception) as I wake with a need to use the bathroom.

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CAUSATION (not "interpretation"):

With this familiar dream type, imaginary kinesthesia (vivid but illusory movement and motion) begins because of vestibular phasing, caused by emerging from REM atonia (solely a result of REM sleep). (All dreams in this mode result from vestibular phasing during emergence from REM atonia but with slightly different narrative types.) This association results in imagining my dream body as a vehicle to compensate for the illusion of vestibular phasing. (There are thousands of matching examples of this process in my online journal.)

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Virtual Amnesia and Dream Errors:

A motorcycle would never have fit in the small Cubitis bathroom. The bathroom window was too small and too high for a child to climb through. I am in the Cubitis house to prevent associating the dream state with real life. (An imaginary bathroom while sleeping is useless.)

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USE YOUR BRAIN:

Try to grasp the reason the motorcycle first aimed toward the toilet but with the outcome that it left my dream's imaginary setting through the window despite the surreal (and nonsensical) implication because of my attention vacillating from dreaming to waking out of a biological need. The crowd (lack of privacy) was a secondary factor in making my dream's imaginary bathroom unusable.

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Morning of November 10, 1990. Saturday.



This particular prophetic dream revealed the actual uncommon surname of my soulmate (twin flame) and wife-to-be, who first contacted me in March of 1991; about four months after this dream. That surname was Horvath. On the television series “One Day at a Time” (1975–1984), Mackenzie Phillips played the character Julie Cooper Horvath. I was not a fan of hers (and did not find her attractive), and this is my only clearer dream about her as far as I know. The tennis court in this particular case is likely related to a play on “love” as well as courtship and marriage. We were the only characters in my dream and seemingly isolated.

In my dream, I had been playing a tennis match with Mackenzie Phillips. I am not sure of the location. It could be Florida, Wisconsin, or even California (or some sort of implied composite). I am eventually wandering through the tennis court somewhat randomly after something apparently interrupts our tennis game (such as a bottle or a rock being thrown onto the court, I think, though I am not directly aware of any other people at any point). I soon notice that she is gone or had disrespectfully (in the opinion of my dream-self) wandered off but we still have a game to finish. I spend the rest of my dream going around screaming her first name over and over, getting louder and louder, walking in a kind of zigzag pattern “MaKEEEEEHnzie! MaKEEEEEHnzie!” (possibly also a play on “I can’t see”?). I feel tense, irritated, and even abandoned. It almost seems like we are married and she had deserted me. Everything starts to turn into a mist. I get the impression that all of the other people disappeared (even though Mackenzie was the only other person I was aware of). All of the world is fading, very slowly and frustratingly (not a typical way to wake from a dream). I awake with a mild headache, seemingly having slept too long.

Morning of September 22, 1990. Saturday.



This dream has two main but distorted sections. There is a scene where I am in what could be a composite of a pawn shop and record (or music) store. It reminds me vaguely of both Leithold Music (where my father worked at one time) and the pawn shop, both in La Crosse.

There is focus on the name Omar Piper, who may be the cashier, although at one point, this is not certain. In fact, I may be perceived as this person who I had never heard of (though it may be an influence from a recent episode of “Unsolved Mysteries” where the name Omar is mentioned in a chilling and infamous arson video).

Another section of my dream relates to a tombstone that may display the name of Omar Piper. It has two cherub faces (three-dimensional reliefs) on each side. There is some sort of unusual impression as if the cherubs are alive or will be at one point (and a “reset” where lightning strikes the tombstone and partly splits it). There is a false “memory” of having a conversation with someone about whether or not there were really tombstones with engraved cherub heads as such. I hear “Is there such a thing?” as if hearing myself say it elsewhere.

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I am inclined to primarily see the cherubs as this dream’s flight symbols. There may be a connection to Valentine’s Day (relative to the cherubs), which was when my father died (1979). Still, I am inclined to believe that a headstone is sometimes a dream sign (relating to being asleep in bed), as the flight symbol pair appears on it in this case and is also unmoving, thus it seems just an atypical form of the waking transition, especially as lightning represents conscious activity and is implied to split the tombstone. References to flight in various forms seems to be one of my most common indirect dream signs (which represent the consciousness displacement of the dream state).

Morning of June 18, 1989. Sunday.



I believe there were other events prior to this main vivid scene before waking. I am in some sort of rather large belfry. There are unknown unusual people that do not look in my direction or speak to me. They are wearing pale brown robes, it seems. I get the impression that they may be monks.

I watch and see the reddish brown bells swing and hear them make very eerie tones, sounding much like the slowed-down recording of someone dropping silverware into a metal pan. The sound is somewhat discordant but still musical in a way. Something about the scene is not quite right. It seems to be just prior to sunset. (However, there is an ambiguous awareness that I am watching this in late morning, caused by my awareness of waking from my dream.)

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This dream, like many dreams (or at least the final segment), was designed to wake me up.

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I would like to clarify that I used this title as a joke, not be be descriptive.

Morning of October 9, 1988. Sunday.



This was one of those dreams that did not seem to have me as the dreamer or the main character (though I do not quite feel disembodied in-dream).

I am in an unknown house where a girl lives with her pet cat (and at least one parent, it seems) in a small town in either the UK or Australia (not sure of the accent in regards to this one - sounded almost Scottish). Although it does not seem to be a stronger or clearer version of the “mystery girl” - she did have a long-haired male whitish cat of the same breed (a silver chinchilla) when I made contact with the girl who was to become my wife in real life a few years later (in Maryborough). I am fairly certain that the town in my dream even ended in “borough” (I think it was “Landsborough” though, or something very close, not sure of anything else) but I do not know (or seem to know) the girl’s name.

The cat’s name is “Spitfire”. Mostly, my dream solely involves the cat spitting fireballs at mice and burning them up before they are eaten by the cat. As I said before, fire is a common feature in my dreams, but not as common as cool, clear water.

Curiously, “Landsborough” is actually the real name of a small town in Queensland near where we live now , but I did not know it was a real place at the time, or if I did, it did not “register” - plus, it was also very close in sound to my sister’s married surname at the time anyway.

Also, at the time, I apparently did not know (or at least think about) that one definition of “spitfire” was “a person given to outbursts of spiteful temper and anger, especially a woman or girl”. That does not seem to have any personal connection, though.

Coincidentally, my wife had a pet cat named “Sparki” when I first met her.