Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 30, 1987. Friday.



My dream’s title is based on having been a fan of Marvel’s “Werewolf by Night” comic book (the original series).

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I have had similar dreams as this where I am able to focus on my hands and grow claws and feel very vivid sensations of their emergence from my fingers, even though this dream is not fully lucid, as I know things are “different” yet I do not fully associate the state with being in a dream (but I do recognize its unrealistic nature). My dream colored my mood in a very lighthearted and positive way. I believe my name as a werewolf is “Sawtooth”. My becoming a werewolf is fully determined by my own cheerful desire to and not a result of the full moon’s influence. I am also aware of wolf canines growing but this is not uncomfortable, though I do clearly feel changes and pressure in that area (through semi-lucid threads of intent at one point).

The ending of my dream provides a strong state of happiness and an augmented sense of freedom, primarily freedom from the negative aspects of human society. I have become half-wolf, half-man, but I am still running upright like a human, to the southwest. It is about ten o'clock in the morning. Not that far away, to the south, my target is a very dense (fictional) forest, the trees seemingly only a few feet apart at least on the perimeter. It would otherwise be located about two blocks south of my older sister Marilyn’s house. I am blissful about living in the deep dark forest. Even though it is late morning prior to twelve, with no full moon anywhere - and in fact the sun is shining, I hear the howls of fellow werewolves from within the woods, and although there seems like twenty or so, I never see another werewolf in my dream. I still feel a strange seemingly serious kinship, even though the overall dream at this point is quite silly. There is a very cheerful, positive feeling, although I feel as if I will somehow completely “lose” myself upon entering the forest (not in a negative sense; more like being a playful child again, free as I was in the woods of Chipmunk Coulee before I went to public school), which is to be my home from then on. However, I awake before reaching the edge of the forest, the edge being east and west and almost perfectly straight across. Upon waking, in addition to general freedom, I realize that another aspect that was in the back of my dream self’s mind, is freedom from the expectations of others.

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The main influence here was “I Was a Middle Aged Werewolf” (even though I was young at the time of this dream), a “Highway to Heaven” episode, where the angel played by Michael Landon (who was born on Halloween in 1936) was also in “I Was a Teenage Werewolf” from 1957.

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Morning of September 13, 1987. Sunday.



I am not a main character here, it seems. My dream seems to focus on a different male. There are some extraordinary scenes that capture ancient Greece in amazing ways, including some sort of unusual mood that I cannot quite describe.

There is some sort of theme related to reincarnation, though I doubt the Minoans or the Greeks would have had belief in this concept in any major way. However, one male seems to “travel” into different lifetimes. His first lifetime is in some sort of arena. An actual minotaur is there and he has to fight with the creature. There are also a couple chariots in the area. It looks like he is ready to escape with my “mystery girl” on a chariot after somehow trapping the minotaur. There is also some sort of odd unicycle-like structure that comes down at one point (perhaps some sort of pulley). The minotaur is trapped in some sort of powerful opaque cage, perhaps a very strong wood. He is trapped just as he begins to charge.

Later, I am walking about in ancient times in a mostly featureless, somewhat barren-looking area, with several other people, possibly some younger Minoans. There is a strange atmospheric mood that is hard to relate.

Over time, the man (reincarnated I assume) returns to the same area but in the distant future. The area is similar but is now more intended as some sort of intergalactic museum, I think. He is standing in the area that is almost like an implied red carpet which leads directly to the trap that he had captured the minotaur in. An unknown person, perhaps a tourist, pulls on some sort of lever. Apparently the person, a female, seems an incarnation of Daphne. The unicycle-like device moves back and down from higher up and the trap is lifted from around the creature. The imagery is quite vivid and intense at this point and I am almost entering a state of vivid fear, though I am on the side of the opened trap and not in the path of what is to come out of it.

Suddenly, the minotaur is charging again from the exact same position he had stopped centuries prior and moves toward the man. I do not get to see the outcome, but I suspect he was killed, but that is not certain. There is a bizarre sense of grief I seem to feel from his wife, but I do not see anything at that point.

Although there are a lot of contradictions and conflicting information on this, one more reliable source says that the ancient Greeks believed that souls of the deceased were not reincarnated into another bodily form and placed back on earth, but lived on in either Hell or Heaven as a spirit. However, in all honesty, to actually claim that “all” people of a certain culture or time believed in a specific thing as a group is quite absurd, yet this wording is used all the time for cultures and such.

Morning of August 23, 1987. Sunday.



I am with Leonard S on a fishing trip at Pettibone Park, across the bridge from where we live on the south-side of La Crosse and where we often fish in real life. I believe it is late morning. There is an idea that the authorities might soon be here to “investigate” our fishing methods even though we are not doing anything wrong. After a short time, a helicopter appears in the sky overhead. Soon, it seems to have some difficulty staying up. It ends up moving down onto the ground at an angle, close to the riverbank, so that the rotor blades hit the ground and then seem to become like some sort of digging machine as dirt flies up - and the helicopter goes farther into the ground almost like it was designed to (and the rotor blades do not break, they just keep turning and digging, pulling the helicopter deeper into the ground).

From here, for some reason, my dream then only focuses on Leonard’s profile which takes on a rather odd insect-like appearance and his eyes seem to project visible dashes (a series of short “lines”) in the air, moving out horizontally from them in an old-fashioned-comic-strip-like indication of where he is looking (as if he is extremely puzzled by the helicopter’s “slow-motion” accident unfolding before him). He is still supposedly completely human. My dream becomes vague and partly abstract at this point.

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Leonard in this case stands for my dream self and temporary waking self hybrid (present in many dream types but not all). He is very puzzled over why the waking mechanism failed as a result of the association with sleeping longer (including anticipation of the return to slow-wave sleep), the short lines that project from his eyes create a virtual highway (or an implied linear pathway), a highway (or in fact any implied pathway) being a conduit for either deeper induction or the waking transition.

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Morning of May 11, 1987. Monday.



I have had quite a few of very similar dreams in my life, of a ziggurat in an unlikely location (including inside a larger department store). In dreams like this particular one, I see a smaller, more narrow and steeper ziggurat in an area in a residential neighborhood in La Crosse. It seems to have a church belfry at the top, though, but there is not much room to actually walk around, and it is no more than about twenty feet high. It also seems made with more modern techniques, even with wood and metal in the structure. There is a slight eeriness to these dreams, though bordering more on puzzlement, I think. Such dreams are usually uneventful and I make the choice not to explore the building, or rather, climb the steps, which in this particular dream, seem a bit too steep as well as too narrow in horizontal width from the center to properly walk up them. Also, I am not really sure of the purpose although it almost seems like a Christian-oriented church in some ways, or it may even be related to some sort of new business venture.

Night of November 1, 1986. Saturday. (This would be a day after Halloween. Keep that in mind.)



Even though this dream seems primarily impersonal and I seem to be disembodied for the most part in the majority of the scenes, there is a sense of eeriness throughout (but no direct physical threat at any point). It mostly involves a colony of bats that are somewhat anthropomorphic and of which that in turn suggests a link to gargoyles to some extent. They mostly seem to come from a hidden underground area in a fictional cemetery in La Crosse. This fictional cemetery is northwest of my sister’s house on Loomis Street. This location superimposed in reality would possibly seem to occupy the parking lot in what is now the Coulee Montessori Charter School and part of Roosevelt Park.

There is an idea at one point that the bat-like creatures “escaped” from an unknown realm that people perhaps accidentally disturbed with mining activities.

At one point, I watch more than a dozen of the creatures fly out from a west-facing mausoleum (which, through extensive research, is very similar to an Oakwood one in Troy, New York). My dream takes on that eerie stop-motion animation artificial feel very similar to the original “Jason and the Argonauts” from 1963, a movie I saw a few times as a boy and which influenced many of my dreams over time, specifically, in this case, the very similar harpies. The mausoleum is vaguely reminiscent of the White House, which is a bit curious (and perhaps relevant) I think, though the columns could be modeled after the harpies scene in the aforementioned movie.

Again, I am not attacked or threatened but it seems there are other (unknown) people that are attacked and possibly killed during a picnic though I do not witness the events that closely or much gore.

This is partially like a typical movie-like dream where scenes change (or “jump cut”) completely every several minutes, but still with the overall similar bats theme and still within a non-varying dream awareness for the most part.

However, in one “reset” (where the awareness slightly increases), it actually seems as if I am one of the creatures or at least “in league” with them (which makes sense, as I, the dreamer, am their creator after all). At one point I get a very vague impression they may be robotic, but this is unlikely and my brief distorted impression as such was probably only caused by the odd stop-motion movement. There is no vampire association at any point, though there is a vague “church” association or feeling at one point, yet mostly undefined and unresolved.



Most dreams with more detail involving normal bats (and importantly, I stress “normal” here) and additional but unrelated events to the main bat theme are long-term precognitive in nature even over many years (such as regarding my extensively documented and researched “Patches” recurring dream series). This clarifies how bats represent “messengers” from the “caves” of the supraconscious, often in a positive sense or personally good outlook (only incidentally because one does not ordinarily attribute birds to exploring and dwelling in caves or dark recesses of metaphorical mysteries). People who do not know any better might associate with bats solely in a negative sense, and this example in turn was probably influenced by popular media and the popular symbols of Halloween, unfortunately (or fortunately if you like meandering “monster dreams” which are not intense enough to be nightmares or with any feasible personal symbolism).

Morning of September 21, 1986. Sunday.



This is a shorter summary. My dream was much longer than it seems by this - but a lot of the time was mostly regarding some of the same visual aspects and conversations not quite recalled (seemingly in another language at times).

I am on an unknown island, probably near Indonesia. I have no clue to what island it is as it seems very small and isolated from the rest of the world. I am not quite sure if my companion and I had been in the past and are later in the present in my dream, or started out in the present and came back to the location in the future.

My male companion is somewhat like a composite of a Scotland Yard character and an archaeologist. He seems dressed mostly as a businessman at times. We find an isolated village that people said did not exist (supposedly being a legend). My dream is extraordinarily vivid but not lucid. We find a village where we make friends with three younger male characters. They have food served to us in mottled wooden bowels (I believe) and we become good friends. They are mostly spending time involved in rituals to do with fire and trying to call forth spirits.

Because my dream is more vivid, the atmosphere is very intense in the semidarkness. The floor is of dirt but there are grass mats in a few locations. The random flickers of the fire eerily light up the ceiling within the one-room building. I would guess their ages to only be around twenty or so.

We eventually leave the village and they seem somewhat sad. My companion and I go to a beach-like area. We seem to travel through time while just standing in one area near the ocean - into at least their future (but again, not sure if our future or our present). We go back to the hut and the same three men are there but seemingly ninety years old or more. They are still doing the same rituals in the smokey scene. They seem amazingly happy to see us and nod their heads lightly. A lot of emotion unfolds in this dream, a little more than many others of this time, and I had labelled it as a “breakthrough dream”. It colored my mood for about a week in a positive way, somehow.

I had this dream the evening (possibly into the next day) after reading a lot of other people’s dreams in a hardcover book. There was something on “breakthrough dreams” that connected with me somehow at the time. I do not remember the book title and did not write about the book itself. I have included the link for an older interesting but nearly 300-page PDF document that was based on some of what I read, though I do not agree with the work one-hundred percent by any stretch, especially now, but I used to really enjoy such works, mostly in the 1980s: http://elk.library.ubc.ca/handle/2429/26374

Morning of August 30, 1986. Saturday.



I am on the front roof (that goes out over the front porch) of my King Street apartment with an unknown dark-haired female (”mystery girl” who was literally and visually precognitive of my wife-to-be since early childhood) under a sheet. It seems to be late morning. Eventually, there is a strong wind and it pulls us into the air, with a very strange sensation moving through my body, similar to when I am “too close” to the edge of a roof or cliff in real life but the feeling is augmented. The “flight” and “fall” transforms into a natural waking mechanism though without the usual hypnic jerk.

Dreaming about anything related to a bed or sleep in most cases is just that, an obvious dream sign of the dream itself (and as is typical with any other native dream metaphor, with no “interpretation”), especially if the bed or bedding is in a different location than real life (though, even though it is very common, something I rarely catch in my own dreams as a possible trigger for lucidity, though this dream is very vivid). Being on a roof is also relative to a particular “band” of the dream state itself regarding a transitory state of consciousness (just on the threshold of the waking state). This is basically just a variation on the falling waking mechanism other than the visually precognitive reminder of my wife-to-be. Still, it is also a clever play on “magic carpet ride”, yet another flying symbol and analogous to the dream state itself. First and foremost, dreams are about dreaming and waking, instilled with precognitive and foreshadowing layers to prepare for what is to come (both immediate waking and potential elements yet to be). Wind relates to both the passage of time and long-term precognition.

Morning of June 2, 1986. Monday.

Dream #: 7,105-02. Reading time: 45 sec.



I am walking around in a strange, unfamiliar location that seems almost like Medieval times in some ways even though it is supposedly in the distant future. A boy I know, Scott R, is there and other people are nearby.

Eventually, when I look up, I see a gigantic spaceship making a tremendous mechanical noise as it “swims” through the sky. It is like a giant robotic tadpole, much larger than a 747, somehow staying up with no signs of wings, rotaries, or any other mechanisms. It has at least four sections that seem to counterbalance each side-to-side unit as its forms zigzag. It makes a tremendous amount of noise as it moves, possibly indicating rust and mechanical stress. I do not know what to think, but it causes a sense of awe and interest. Later, I float about above various stairwells in public areas.

Over time, while seemingly incorporeal, I have impressions of moving into people (coalescence) who are sitting near the bottom steps of flights of stairs. There is a wondrous essence of love. Everyone is smiling, but I do not think they are aware of me.

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This event from the 1980s was just one more experience that all but abolished my faith in human credibility (as to why most people remain in denial regarding the paranormal, which, as I have stated, I consider more bizarre than the paranormal itself - or perhaps “paranormal” is not the right word in this case as it covers many things regarding the “unexplained” - many people seemingly completely lack the ability to either accept or relate to it - which seems overly “wrong” somehow, especially at my age now).

In the morning of this day, I continue to have false awakenings from a few dreams and am focused on a section of the east wall of my King Street apartment when I lived in the smaller L-shaped room where the pinhead’s closet had a blocked-off doorway westerly to my room. There was a strange, shiny part of the wall whereby there were very odd shadowy figures I couldn’t quite account for. It gave the impression of both miniature demonic human-like forms and wayward fairies. The vividness of this perception was astounding. I couldn’t work out what I was looking at and later thought the dream was related to some sort of implied portal in the wall. Still, it created the impression of a reflection from somewhere else, and there was also a sort of reddish hue in some areas. The detail was quite precise and did not change in orientation. This was the only time to that point that I had such a vivid dream of focusing on the east wall and seeing the weird shiny seeming reflection from elsewhere. It almost reminded me of Hot Stuff the devil in an enchanted forest scene with a plane flying above.

That evening, in real life, I walked to the north-side of La Crosse. I stopped at sister Marilyn’s house. She wanted me to get something for her at the store, so I walked north, then west down Gillette Street. It was the night that the garbage was set out on the boulevards. I passed near a house a few houses east from the IGA store (“Skogen’s” at the time) and noticed an object sitting freely atop the garbage can on a smaller box. Looking at it, in the dark, I saw it was a Pink Floyd “The Wall” mirror, which I had never seen one of before. I decided to take it home, as it was in seeming good condition.

The next morning - you guessed it - the dream repeated - except it wasn’t a dream this time. I had absentmindedly placed the mirror on my desk near the south window whereby the reflection on the wall was identical to the precognitive dream of the day before. This really baffled me, even considering the thousands of similar experiences I had already had. It almost made me feel “dislocated in time”. Included here is the photo of the same mirror as what I had.

As usual, about paranormal dreams with validated follow-ups such as this, there are several layers, with at least one layer being almost like a “cosmic jester” at work. In this case, it was related directly to the wall in my apartment as well as the movie “The Wall” (that I hadn’t even seen). In addition to visually exact precognition (which couldn’t possibly be coincidental in any way), there was the additional feeling of remote-viewing, yet somehow “displaced” in time - yet another variation of the unexplained.

One more thing - I didn’t like the song “The Wall” at all (in fact disliked it quite a bit and often made fun of it), because they sang “We don’t need no education” - which implied that they did need education - because they were using a double negative…

Morning of April 5, 1986. Saturday.



I had apparently been “sleeping” or resting in my dream in an unfamiliar room, but which is like a composite of the front (northeast) first floor bedroom on Loomis Street and seemingly a hotel room that is on a higher floor (at the same height the airplane is flying). I become aware of a very loud percussive sound, which gets clearer and clearer and seems to be getting closer to where I am. (I am unsure if this dream event was caused by real-life noise.) Looking out the window (implied to be a fictional window open to the north when using the layout of the familiar Loomis Street bedroom), I see that it is a 1940s military aircraft of a greenish gray color (which resembles a Grumman F8F Bearcat) that seems to be shooting at something (though I perceive that it is apparently present time in my dream, not the 1940s) and there are associations with Tripoli or Tipperary. Even though it is heading for the building I am in, even seemingly shooting in my direction, it does not crash or pose any actual threat now or later. I am not sure what happens to it after this as my dream shifts to where I am then outside. I assume that there is a small war going on in the region, though I am not clear on the location. There is confusion with Germany and Turkey as well as Libya and vague terrorist associations. Logically, it is probably meant to be the Middle East.

Later, I am standing outside, still seemingly in present time. I am one of the first people in a line of several hostages, which includes mostly older men and women. I am soon well aware that I am not me, though. Instead, I seem to be a much older male civilian or at least occupying his body somehow, perhaps a journalist. A hostile male facing the line, seemingly in charge, and holding an AK-47 or similar, is possibly going to shoot us all, though this is uncertain. At this time, I feel a strange vivid sense of both fear and growing relief and quickly rise up out of this character as if I was only inhabiting his body temporarily and do not want to be him if he is killed (which seems impending at this point). I rise higher and higher, looking down on the scene which includes bombed-out buildings. Meanwhile, I feel as if I somehow legitimately had been in this situation but am now escaping and “returning” to my own body, the presumed possibility of this remaining in fleeting conscious afterthought.

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Morning of March 30, 1986. Sunday. Easter.



This dream has very strong imagery and is of the highest importance to me. This is actually two dreams, with the more vivid one I will detail first that actually seemed to literally interrupt the other dream (which has only happened a few times more clearly in my life), like suddenly changing the station on a radio, so to speak. (Hypnagogia has a tendency to do this with a very similar effect of a soap bubble suddenly whirling and changing, but I have not experienced it hardly at all in full sleeping dream states.)

This “second part” was one of the most vivid dreams I have ever had, I was aware of every atom and there was a sense of total timelessness (as if the universe had completely “stopped”), yet with a sensation of looking through the clear surface of a pond. I see a silver sebright bantam rooster strutting about in the front yard of my King Street home. I am somehow fully aware that it is a resurrected pet of my youth. (I believe he may have suffocated when he fell asleep near me and then I fell asleep so I felt really bad, but it may, according to my mother, have been from eating brown recluse spiders, velvet ants, and fire ants that there were a lot of around at the time, including ones that died from pesticide).

I feel a strong sense of joy seeing my resurrected pet in this “eternal, frozen pocket of time”; there is no more guilt or sadness of any kind. This energy is “alive” everywhere. I am frozen in the atoms themselves and the watery, ripple-like motions of the air around me. It seems that way for an unknown period of time. Eventually, I hear a strange musical sound from above. A male resplendent quetzal bird comes down and sits on a hedge and makes very unusual (almost metallic and layered) sounds. The sebright rooster acknowledges the bird on the hedge by walking closer to it and stands in seeming expectation, almost like a ritual devotion. I have an awareness that either the quetzal will remain earthbound for its partner/“spiritual brother” for as long as needed (even forever) or that the rooster will soon learn to fly in a more viable way than the eagle. The amazing, multicolored quetzal and the “plain” black-and-white sebright look at each other as I wake slowly, feeling a sense of Yin and Yang uniting (even though Yin is technically female).

Although the first part of my dream (below) was so accurate in precognitive aspects as to be undeniable, I also got a fleeting idea that the rooster was my left side and the quetzal was my right side (though in my dream, the rooster is on the right and the quetzal on the left - however, left and right are supposed to be mentally reversed relative to physical control of the body according to sources I have seen).

The details of my dream that turned out to be correct always gave me a deep feeling of the absurdity of certain people I knew relating such things to coincidence. For example, in my dream both I and a girl I had not seen for over a year were wearing blue long johns. Before walking to my sister’s house, I had assumed this was just some sort of odd dream association. In real life, when I went to my sister’s house, the people from my dream were actually there, and the girl was, very oddly, wearing blue long johns on the outside; never saw this before or since. In my dream, the girl had a Casio digital sampler keyboard (CASIO SK-1) of the same model that I had in real life that I had bought a few months before (which I had also thought was only an in-dream association). In real life, that was also correct; she had won it in a radio promo. In my dream the two older people (one being the girl’s mother, the other being the girl’s mother’s boyfriend at the time) as well as the girl, had a single red welt on the right side of their face, all in the same spot. This also turned out to be true. In my dream, the man I had only seen before as thin was quite plump, and this also turned out to be true. Several other minor details turned out to be correct, including the plastic from her keyboard being in the middle of the dining room table. When I walked into my sister’s house, I just sort of stood there in total puzzlement for a few minutes - I could not even speak for about an hour or so. I had not known these people would visit my sister - let alone on Easter (they came from Chicago, Illinois to La Crosse, Wisconsin).



Even so, I was still at a stage where I rarely mentioned such things to other people, before or after. Since my childhood, the more intelligence or awareness I expressed, the more “different” I was seen as. I even stayed back by choice at my “proper” grade level (the school always wanted to put me two grades higher) but I did not want to leave my friends and I also felt out of place around a lot of much taller kids that I would have been classmates with.

The other important connection is that my wife’s mother painted such a bird quite some time before our real-life contact in 1991. This bird was also in a special syndicated cutout published on the day of my birth, which I did not discover until August of 2014.

Morning of March 10, 1986. Monday.



There is something found in a special small cardboard box covered with fabric, like the type some wristwatches are purchased in. It seems to have been hidden in an additional compartment inside. I seem to be a different character, seemingly a young version of Ray Milland, also having his voice when I speak, this being before or during his death in reality, though I had not seen any of his movies for some time. This seems important, as although my dream does not precisely reflect the plot of any movie he was in, it does have similarities and some of the same mood throughout to the movie “X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes” from 1963.

The box contains a special lens. It allows the person who looks through it to “see forever” and has different ways of displaying and revealing the otherwise unseen, not always consistent.

As the other character, I become addicted to this new way of viewing the world. Over time, my eye begins to bleed. I have similar opportunities as “X” (from the Ray Milland movie) in seeing through things, as well as having the telescopic perspective. At one point, I hear a seemingly ominous line from my character that goes, “when I look through the lens of evil, I can see myself looking back” and this seems to be the case. I look through the lens, and in the supposed far distance, is a scene of me sitting on a bed and looking back at me through the same lens, like some sort of distant mirror-like reflection. This seems to be some sort of extreme point, where the lens is now functioning in a different way.

In reality of course, because the world is a sphere, seeing everything on the planet would not be possible and would be cut off at the horizon (more so, there would be no potential for a distant mirror-like reflection). The lens seems to bend light in a way where you can see all the way around the planet and back in either perspective. (There is also a point earlier where I see myself looking through the lens, but from the back. This was an influence from a scene of the same concept from the original “Land of the Lost” television series.) I can also see into distant space, infinitely.

Eventually, my eyes become larger and bleed more, being very bloodshot, though one eye is much worse, implying some sort of side effect, as I use it more for the lens. Over time, I grow scales on my arms and legs and eventually gills on my neck. In my dream’s last scene, I become a mooneye fish and do one last vertical leap from the water’s surface. The fish’s eye is also bleeding, seen from a distance, followed by a dramatic zooming in as if from a movie.

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Ray Milland died on this tenth of March, after my dream. Additionally, my mother developed a severe eye infection where one eye looked extremely bloodshot (and she had never had such an infection before). Because I wrote this dream out as a short story after I woke, it later seemed very strange for my mother to read it when one of the lines read “the eye looked awful”, followed by other related details. I felt embarrassingly inconsiderate (though I had written it out prior to her condition). Additionally, I had caught a mooneye fish later, which is a type of fish I rarely ever caught.

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Night of November 8, 1985. Friday.

Dream #: 6,899-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



Vestibular stage: I feel as if I am in a southwest area of La Crosse, possibly near Third Street, but my dream’s rendering is erroneous. I am riding my bicycle, probably past midnight, through a mist with an eerie glow. I had not seen any other traffic.

I am enjoying myself. I pedal faster and faster even though I cannot see what is ahead of me, though I am vaguely aware I am dreaming. At one point, I am moving fast through an alley, heading west. Suddenly, I see another vehicle approaching from the north as I am exiting into an open area that seems adjacent to a small parking lot to the north as well as an intersection. My dream becomes more vivid, though the certainty I am dreaming increases only in the last few seconds.

Preconscious emergence (as authoritative): The vehicle is a small motorcycle with a police officer riding it. I cannot see his eyes because he is wearing dark sunglasses (an indicator that I am sleeping) or a face shield under a light-colored helmet, though I can see his mouth, which has no expression. I suddenly slow down so as not to draw his attention with my speed, especially as it seems we might collide. Even though the scene is otherwise vivid and realistic, he and his motorcycle seem scaled down to about half the size they should be. I slowly approach the intersection as he continues south, to my left and beyond, without turning his head towards me at any point. I wake after he passes out of sight. (There was no vestibular drop, only a vague awareness of the process as the motorcycle crossed my path.)

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The intersection offers three choices. I can turn left to follow the motorcycle cop (which I technically do with the waking process), keep going (keep dreaming), or turn right with the implication of returning to slow-wave sleep (so-called dreamless sleep). (The direction options are atypical as I am otherwise on my left side when dreaming vividly, not my right.)

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One Christmas, my father bought me a toy remote control police motorcycle with an officer riding it. My dreaming experience rendered its nature as too small and of an artificial essence (though those aspects are common to dreams).

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Morning of November 4, 1985. Monday.



This is a somewhat distorted dream in terms of activity and themes. The main aspect of this one more vivid section is seemingly running from an area where there may have been a shooting of a president or mayor, though I am not sure if the person was killed. It first seems like I am in Wisconsin and then suddenly in Florida, running from the southwest to the northeast through my Cubitis backyard. It almost seems as if I had been involved somehow though I am not sure of my dream’s backstory.

At one point, where we used to have bonfires (a little more towards the southern section of the weedy area prior to the railroad tracks), there is some sort of implied epiphany of a “whale man”. The “whale man” is actually better described as a typical merman, I suppose, except that the bottom half is like a killer whale or orca, and the top half is a man. The theme is seemingly relative to the phoenix (only very loosely). Perhaps the politician was shot and returned as this being, or he was always like this (and thus I cannot be guilty of any possible crime), I am not sure. It also seems as if I am looking at a political poster for a short time. The part that is manlike reminds me of a young version of Walter Mondale. He seems suspended above the water with the whale tale in a slight arc. I think he actually may be running for president and as a Republican. He seems friendly and cheerful. I am not certain of his political values or standing. (In real life, I hardly ever thought about politics.)

There is probably a rhyming association with “whale” and “Mondale”. It is also possible that the whale represents a new political party relating to better ecological policies.

This dream is type ECA (subtype acc: parallel accompaniment). Here, the emergent consciousness is already coalesced into the last segment as the hybridized “whale man” (or merman implied to be aggressive on the bottom since the tail is of a killer whale or orca, but cheerful on the top; an atypical ambiguity). However, the phoenix essence is also very clearly implied as the reintegration of full consciousness, especially as the merman rises from the area in my Cubitis backyard where we had bonfires. The ambiguity of the hybridization was caused by dream events involving, firstly, the death of a politician (bottom layer - aggression) by the transition (top layer) of the phoenix concept - or politician’s “resurrection” (conscious self emergence as a cheerful epiphany)

Morning of September 9, 1985. Monday.



Watch out…for the horrible vampiric monster…the…Jacuzzi!

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I have said before that I have had hardly any serious nightmares in my life. The more vivid one in my young adult years was during an early afternoon nap. This was the first version of a short series of dreams (only the first one being an actual nightmare), where the name was semi-lucidly altered to something like “Chalcosi” (from “chalcosis” - or chronic copper poisoning), relative to their skin having a paler copper-color when dying.

It was of a horrible legendary creature that supposedly only lived seven weeks. They liked to eat people. They were to blame for the majority of missing people cases. I somehow fell in love with a “teenage” (in appearance only) version of the vampiric creature who I spent time with on a couch in the middle of the night as the rest of her family went out to eat people. This creature was born as a dangerous albino snake with boa-constrictor-like potential. It then changed into a killer albino tree-dwelling rabbit that sometimes leaped upon people at night. It then becomes a larger lemur-like creature (still albino) - becoming more monkey-like in some ways, and eventually an albino human-like creature with somewhat shark-like teeth (and growing as such, a lost one always being replaced, but almost immediately). As they neared death, their skin became a slight coppery color. Their hair was always white. I guess sometimes they wore wigs and sunglasses to hide their true identity, as their eyes remained snake-like. They lived in groups of a dozen or so at various ages.

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Of course, again, this horrifying creature was known as…

A Jacuzzi! Watch out for the Jacuzzis, they are coming to eat your neighbors!

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I awoke from the first version of this in a strange hypnopompic state. I felt dizzy and out of place and was hearing applause and disembodied voices, including the impression of a cheerful announcer talking about someone winning a Jacuzzi on “The Price is Right” - this as I saw the faces of the creatures fading in disorienting spirals. It was only then, after I was waking, that I slowly remembered hearing the word “Jacuzzi” on “The Price is Right” (which I only caught parts of now and then at a sister’s house during this time). I looked it up and finally remembered that it was a fancy whirlpool bath and not a dangerous monster.

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Updated on Tuesday, 28 June 2016: I can now look at this and easily recognize an unusual atypical and subliminal form of water induction (since “Jacuzzi” is a hot tub brand and in fact a whirlpool bathtub implies an essence of the Merkaba as a tornado does) and the strong metaphorical references to circadian rhythms (and even evolution). Albinos also symbolically represent moon induction (which is often linked to water induction relative to the symbolic “tidal” shifting of consciousness in dreaming and waking). Even more curiously, “Jacuzzi” rhymes with “Suzi”, the anglicized form of my wife Zsuzsanna’s first name, more relevant here as I have a relationship with this female Jacuzzi. The unlikely rabbit stage is a symbol for something emerging from the unconscious mind as a rabbit lives in a burrow and even this was a Source clue, as Zsuzsanna lived in Maryborough when we first made contact. Not only that, the age of the girl matched Zsuzsanna’s age from this time period - and to add to that even more curiously, she had a period where she drew vampire animals (and certainly not everyone has an interest as such). This is all very interesting and in fact, validates yet again that most dreams have precognitive layers of one form or another.