Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 6, 2018. Saturday.

Dream #: 18,919-01. Reading time: 1 min 45 sec. Readability score: 63.



Entering the usual (projected in this stage) vestibular system correlation phase (always based on the subliminal, liminal, or lucid anticipation of the process rather than anything to do with waking life), I find myself back in Cubitis in the early afternoon, in the front yard. I am watching airplanes flying south in the blue sky above. It goes on for seemingly a long time. (Although this is a common dream situation, having been so for over fifty years, it does not have the same essence or mood as my watching the sky before dawn dreams. Those carry more of a deep, blissful nostalgia and happiness, with a false memory of otherworldly activity occurring at about two to three in the morning.)

There are others with me, though they are unfamiliar people. Everyone in this dream is cheerful. My conscious self identity does not exist in this space. Even the neighbors to the immediate south are unknown and unfamiliar. There are no thoughts of the real history with the real-life neighbors of 1968-1978.

At times, I consider that I could cause an airplane to crash (though I am not viably lucid) by anticipating it, though I do not focus on human fatality here. Sometimes one of the planes flies close to the ground in the distance, but there are no explosions. Eventually, I see that a Cessna is in the driveway of the neighbor immediately to the south as if it had been there all along. I point this out to one of the other people in the front yard.

My dream wavers into an indoor setting, where the Cessna is now indoors, in the neighbor’s living room. It is behind the couch (and is not much longer than it) in about the center of the room, though it does not have wings. The owner had called it “fake” even though it is not. He and his wife sit inside the airplane and watch television. The plane faces west.

Eventually, the man cheerfully talks about having a snake around somewhere, which he put in the room on purpose. I am not concerned and do not see a snake anywhere, though slowly wake at this point.

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Since childhood, I have understood the vestibular system correlation avatar to be a specific form of RAS personification (the waking process linked to the reticular formation in REM sleep). Once again, this is validated, as the core RAS manifestation (in all primates, not just human beings) is a snake. It is almost as if the preconscious is playing with me by talking about having put a snake somewhere in the room with the wingless airplane.

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Morning of October 5, 2018. Friday.

Dream #: 18,918-01. Reading time: 2 min 51 sec. Readability score: 54.



My conscious self as in waking life experiences its annihilation in the non-lucid dream state, and as my subconscious self, I lose viable memory of who I am and the contact with my unconscious mind that I possess in waking life. All that remains within my temporary dream self’s fictitious mind is the subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, and the essence of non-lucid dream control and its dynamics gathered from a lifetime of knowledge of the dream state.

Wanting to liminally return my incomplete dream self essence to at least partial coalescence with my conscious self, I create a school setting to metaphorically learn my way back to my conscious identity to pull myself at least partially out of the illusory dream state into the liminal pre-wakefulness range of a more realistic self-awareness and mode of discernment. The teacher is an unknown female standing near the center of the classroom of which is mostly featureless. I am in the room near the doorway, to its left when facing it. All of the other students (unfamiliar), male and female, several adults and children of different ages, are outside the classroom, in the hall. They are all unsure if they want to enter the classroom but are listening to the teacher. The class is just beginning, so they have time to consider their choices.

I am sitting on the wooden floor with my legs out, with the bottoms of my feet facing the doorway. All that I am wearing is a white t-shirt. I do not feel embarrassed. After all, I am in a dream and not wearing clothes as I sleep in a bed, even if that understanding is only subliminal. (Even as a child, I knew my transient fictitious dream self was not my conscious self as in reality. That may be why I have rarely ever had “bad” dreams other than when biologically premonitory.)

My illusory erroneous “I am” adjusts to the scenario. I am not lucid or holding any essence of my current conscious self identity, but being near the doorway is a factor of liminal emerging consciousness. The preconscious avatar awakens and comes into existence to my left, still malleable and passive. I allow the five youngest denizens (from a prior unification star ritual in a previous lucid dream) to cheerfully enter the classroom and continue behind me to begin their studies. I do not recall the purpose of the lucid ritual in my non-lucidity.

I decide to converse with the preconscious avatar, an unfamiliar male of about thirty in this incarnation, liminally attempting to transform him into a potential dream state reinducer. On the right side of my right foot is a tattoo of a big golden wind-up key. In reality, this side of my body is exposed to my real environment (as I sleep on my left side). Yellow is the color of potentially viable consciousness within the dream state. That is the link to my true self, to my conscious self identity as in waking life, and the potential for my conscious self identity to manifest within my dream self. This wind-up key is autosymbolism (and a liminal reminder that my dream self’s physicality is not real) for beginning the transition of my true conscious self into my fictitious non-lucid dream self so that my conscious will can more viably maintain the simulacrum and perhaps sustain the dream state for a time.

The avatar marvels at my tattoo, and that amuses me.

My precursory lucidity holds his attention, though he does not attempt to dominate the process.

“I got this when I was in New York,” I deliberately lie, though as it is a dream, it could very well become the “real” backstory should my dream last for several more minutes. “The tattoo artist was a man named Gabriel Vartez.” I pull this name out of nowhere. “Vartez” has no familiarity though “Gabrielle” is Zsuzsanna’s middle name (though my dream self still does not viably remember my current conscious self status here). I am describing this fictitious event to him as if it were a significant encounter.

“That’s interesting,” he responds with admiration, “Gary Vartez?”

This erroneous response annoys me, but I do not say anything or indicate my annoyance. Instead, I choose to wake peacefully.

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Morning of October 3, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,916-01. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 71.



My dream self is non-lucidly in my den in the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane, where we have not lived for years (since our two oldest were young children). There is clutter of which I am sorting. I pick up several winter sweaters from atop other items on the floor and hang them on a hook on the door. A few are like ones I have had in real life, including a gray one. I also pick up pieces of technology, such as a sound card.

The west wall has a narrow gap under it. I notice that a big dragonfly is headfirst about halfway under it. It seems to be dead. I decide to show it to my youngest son. (My dream self has no recall that he never lived at this address.) When I turn around, the bedroom where Zsuzsanna and our youngest son is is the same room I had just been in, though my dream self does not notice this error. The head of the bed is against the west wall. Zsuzsanna is sitting up in bed. Our youngest son is standing on the opposite side of the room.

I feel intense vibrations in my fingers as the dragonfly is alive and moving its wings. I go to the back door, incorrectly rendered as facing east into the yard rather than south onto the porch, and let it go. It still has trouble flying, so stays near the door.

Looking out the window of the back door after closing the door, I see an American robin (juvenile based on its coloring) hopping out to the center of the backyard. It seems that the bird probably ate the dragonfly, though I did not see this occur. I awake around this time.

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Use of a door or doorway serves as one of two potentials, either triggering the waking process (as here) or triggering lucidity and vivification. A door is a transition from one mode of consciousness to another, in real time.

Birds have been a common point of focus in the last moments of my dreams since early childhood. It is an emerging consciousness factor as an association with the dream self’s fictitious body (not viably understanding where one’s real physical body is, associating the essence of sleeping and dreaming with flight). The dragonfly was a potential for lucidity but did not serve as such. This type of focus, which has occurred in many dreams, is from subliminal awareness of my hands when my dream self’s attention focuses on picking up or moving something.

No preconscious avatar is present. That is most often because of the presence of a dream state indicator, in this case, the bedroom and bed, a feature of at least one dream per sleep cycle since earliest memory and which serves as a precursory liminal awareness of being asleep, thus the preconscious is often not needed in RAS mediation of this type. (That depends on my dream self’s mode and progress of transition from the dream state.)

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Morning of October 2, 2018. Tuesday.

Dream #: 18,915-01. Reading time: 52 sec. Readability score: 42.



Dream state induction slowly begins as a stormy sea, though my dream self feels calm, peaceful, and cheerfully observant. Vestibular system correlation and water induction become integrated, though my dream self remains seemingly incorporeal.

Thunderbird 2 flies over the scene. Eventually, I see it on a rocky shore, oriented upwards at about a 20-degree angle. I perceive it as being only about three feet in length. Many tiny people walk around on the rocks, possibly checking its status, some of them probably from the model aircraft, though certainly not marionettes as they only seem about an inch high. There is no implied danger from the splashing waves.

There is an ambiguous transformation where I watch an ocean liner in the same orientation as Thunderbird 2 in the previous scene. It seems like a real ocean liner but is miniature, only about three feet in length.

I consider that the amusing ambiguous scenes are ultimately uninviting, so I semi-lucidly pull my orientation into a different state.

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The liminal association from a television series with marionettes (despite their replacement by tiny people) is an amusing transformation of the otherwise usual summoning of dream state denizens in the water induction stage, as a marionette implies subliminal, liminal, or lucid creation and control of dream state denizens by threads of the conscious self’s will.

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Morning of September 30, 2018. Sunday.

Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 58.



With my transient dream self’s presence in a non-lucid dream, when the personified subconscious loses its viable connection to both the unconscious mind and the current conscious self identity and my conscious self is virtually annihilated, there are still threads that hold logical potential to pull my dream self back into reality.

Having studied the subliminal, liminal, and lucid modes of my dream self since early childhood, most of my dreaming and waking processes have remained unequivocal. Since childhood, certain anchoring factors have maintained the foundation of the dream state by way of the virtuous circle effect, either by establishing non-lucid dream control or the presence of the emerging consciousness that brings about apex lucidity or clarity in otherwise distorted erroneous sequences. Understanding such processes is what brings about non-lucid dream control and eradication of so-called bad dreams (other than when prescience or transpersonal communication is a factor, especially when biological or health-related).

Certain aspects of the dream state may seem strange and illogical but have known explanations inherent to the dream state itself. For example, the library and bookstore settings have a dream self essence that is closer to my current conscious self identity. That is a result of subliminal preparedness for using thinking skills that typically do not exist in the dream state, modes of thought that automatically vivify and clarify my dream (as the subconscious self is incapable of discerning spoken language, symbolism, numbers, or text unless subliminal, liminal, or lucid conscious threads are present). I knew this in childhood and was able to take advantage of it.

The preparatory process is extant and dominant in this dream. I am in the Nundah bookstore with Zsuzsanna and our children as we appear now. The bookstore, as since childhood, is an anchor of my current conscious self. That is why I am aware of threads of my present life and marriage even if we have not been to the Nundah bookstore in many years in reality and its layout and appearance in my dream is erroneous in many ways. (Additionally, my focus on where we live is incorrect as is most often the case. I think of Barolin Street, where we have not lived in years, which was also in Bundaberg, not Brisbane. Once again, I find fascination with the multiple errors in specific combinations that my dreams never render more than once.)

The bookstore has new and secondhand books and a lot of comic books. I walk past a section with history books. Before I look around, I tell our youngest son to come into the store, as he is standing in the heavy rain. Our middle son is outside as well but in the storefront portico. I consider that they may want to go home, but after several attempts, I get them to come into the store. I am calling them from about the center of the store rather than near the entrance. That may be because I am subliminally aware that a door is a dream’s exit point (though can be used to trigger or augment lucidity).

I study many comic book covers, too numerous to describe in detail. I decide to buy four. The last one is a hardcover graphic novel wrapped in plastic. The price is $19.95. The cover features Spider-Man, in a black costume, with his left arm missing with some gore. The story relates to a long battle with Puma, similar to a comic book story I have not looked at or thought about for years.

I see a display with four new comic books with different titles that have a related storyline. It relates to a new X-Men series. I consider buying one but decide not to, as I would have to buy them all to understand their continuity (which would be too expensive).

I tell Zsuzsanna that the total is about fifty dollars. It is $35.94. Two are fifty cents, and another is $14.99.

I notice Christmas decorations in one section of the bookstore. I see Zsuzsanna’s baby pram near the back of the store. We will be going home soon.

Vestibular system correlation begins in the final scene, personifying as a young girl performing ballet in an open area that looks like the local library rather than a bookstore and where a few people are sitting at tables and reading. She does a cartwheel “into” me. I wake.

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There was a storm today, so my dream was correct about heavy rain coming when there has been hardly any rain for months.

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Morning of September 28, 2018. Friday.

Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 54.



The library setting is where my conscious self identity, as in waking life, often carries and holds my dream self in an attempt to hold dynamics of intelligence and memory that typically cease to exist in non-lucid dream states, as the non-lucid subconscious and its personification as the dreamer has no viable connection to the unconscious mind or real life. Since early childhood, I have often tried to manifest books or something to read to bring about viably lucid threads of the emerging consciousness, which sometimes works to vivify my dream self’s status, but in this case, it is only the library with no focus on any specific book.

The otherwise unfamiliar library is close to my conscious self awareness but without viable lucidity or conscious self identity. (I do not know the implied country of its location.) My dream self is aware that I am asleep and dreaming, but it is a subliminal factor, that is, my dream self and conscious self have not coalesced. Physicality and tangibility still increase significantly. I am aware of the preconscious avatar sitting to my right and reading a book in the passive monitoring of my dream self’s status. It is an unfamiliar man of about fifty. I become more annoyed, as he is crowding me. I continue to maintain my focus of sleeping on my left side, as I am in reality. My dream continues to vivify. It is all thought and physicality. There has been no imagery yet.

Finally, my dream self achieves the mode of non-lucid dream control, established by the essence of the library, but without my conscious self identity. Vestibular system correlation commences, and I have thoughts of being a superhero. I fly around for a time as I usually do with this primary dream state factor. Despite not being lucid, I am familiar with the nature of creating and controlling my experience.

I consider that I am Superman, but not “the” Superman. At one point, I decide to have a blue cape rather than a red one. Eventually, I also see that I am wearing slacks and have mismatched socks. I have a blue sock on my left foot and a white sock on my right. I mentally will the bottom of my pants legs to tighten, grow longer and cover my feet, more so from the idea that superheroes do not wear regular pants. Despite having willed my cape to appear and eventually changing its color, I do not contemplate changing either of my socks’ colors.

In my dream’s final scene, I walk inside an area in the afternoon where a chain-link fence, of about ten feet in height, encloses an unknown warehouse. It turns at ninety degrees to match its adjacency to the building’s outer wall. There does not appear to be an exit on that side. (A fence of this nature is the synchronous division between the dream self and the conscious self and the subliminal distinction between the illusory physicality of the dream self’s fictitious body and the status of the real physical body in REM sleep.) The space is narrow. Still, I stop two criminals, both unfamiliar men, from stealing a device relating to communications technology. This scenario is the typical precursory RAS modulation and ultradian rhythm correlation, its rendering for curbing potential unchecked sustainment of the dream state, more so as a concurrent REM sleep safeguard than having anything to do with real life.

I carry the device back around the corner (RAS mediation) to see the owners of the warehouse. Even though the avatars are standing on each side of me and all can see, I have to describe what one criminal looks like to one of the warehouse owners. The avatars to my left are potential dream state revivifiers (I sleep on my left side), whereby the ones on the right are active preconscious (and possibly interconsciousness) threads. The communications device, which resembles a small shortwave radio, merges and coalesces with my dream self and subliminal conscious self identity, and I wake as a result.

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Additional notes: Mismatched socks represent the distinction between the fictitious dream self and the conscious self identity. It is one of those renderings that have occurred since early childhood in all modes (subliminal, liminal, and lucid) of the dream self. In lucidity, I am aware of the meaning, as I am aware of the dreaming and waking processes and how specific patterns manifest. It is not “symbolism” in the conventional sense as many people believe.

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Morning of September 22, 2018. Saturday.

Reading time: 1 min 22 sec. Readability score: 62.



I am sitting in a wooden chair that is first in a mostly undefined featureless room, though with a vague essence of our present home. It is possibly late morning at first. The passage of time seems unusual at the beginning. Several years may have passed very quickly with a brief awareness of different seasons. Soon, it is in an overgrown field. A Twin Wasp engine is on the ground, a few weeds growing around it. It seems to be golden at one point.

The rest of the airplane is elsewhere in the field. There is a 1940s feeling, though based on movies of the time. It seems my task is to fly two ballet dancers (male and female, about thirty years of age), in white, from the area, where they have been for a very long time, living in the minimal ruins of an unknown region. They have still been able to thrive somehow.

Although they sit in the back of a small airplane, they seem to be mentally flying it as I sit in the pilot’s seat. There is a sustained awareness of motion. We move through liminal space of only vague definition as the sky. When I look back at the waking point, they are no longer present.

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Vestibular system avatars sometimes have attributes associated with dancing as a result of the subliminal, liminal, or lucid control of, or focus upon, the illusory physicality of the dream state, the fluidity of adapting to changes in consciousness as well and anticipation of the waking start, even through hypnopompic transitions when they occur. I began to realize this when I was four years old. Airplanes and virtually all flight-related factors (including flying under my own will) are a common dynamic of the process, being present throughout every sleep cycle for over fifty years. Not counting flying under my own will, mechanical forms of flight, such as airplanes, helicopters, and spaceships, when compared with birds, seem to occur with about equal frequency.

Gold always correlates with dream state vivification and the emerging consciousness factor.

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Morning of September 23, 2018. Sunday.

Dream #: 18,906-05. Optimized 1 min 30 sec read.



With metacognitive dreaming, I navigate my vestibular phasing response with imaginary kinesthesia. It has been my predominant form of metacognitive dream state navigation since early childhood. I direct my somatosensory phasing upward, from feet to head to uplifted hands, and request (and anticipate) storm conditions for wind.

I am a boy in my dream. The setting is the front of the Cubitis house, close to the carport. Jim (older half-brother on my mother's side, deceased) appears as he was in the early 1970s. He has a large book of information about a secret society to which he belongs. I read a paragraph about the requirements for mountain climbers and explorers. (This part is influenced by watching "Exploring With Josh" videos on YouTube before sleep.)

It seems to be morning, but the many gray clouds I called for are overhead. I tie two bedsheets together, tearing parts into strips, and throw the "rope" into the air. Jim tries it, but the other end curves downward, and the makeshift rope falls back down. I hold onto one end of the "rope," and I rise into the sky, about ten feet from the ground, the bedsheet "rope" mostly remaining vertical. (This was influenced by watching "Tau" from 2018 two days ago when Julia made a cloth rope to manipulate devices outside of where she and the other two were, though the orientation was horizontal, not vertical. It also implies I am seeking the thinking skills that only my conscious mind has, which is validated by the dream segment after this one.)

Eventually, I find a newspaper and roll a two-page spread into a cone. It becomes unrealistically long and pulls me into the sky, higher than the bedsheet did. The scene repeats, but I add more two-page newspaper spreads. Jim seems puzzled as to how I am doing this. My parents (both deceased) come out during the last minutes. (I lack recall of any of their deaths.)

I hang onto the newspaper "rope" and enjoy the intense vivid feeling of movement and flight as I remain in a vertical position. The wind blows me about north and south above the front yard. The other end remains airborne and stable in its height even though it does not connect to anything.

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Night of September 22, 2018. Saturday.

Reading time: 1 min 19 sec. Readability score: 66.



I enter a typical sustained “preconscious as intruder” scenario within a dual dream. It is part of an atypical late evening nap. I am aware of where I am in bed, but not lucid.

My youngest son is in the lounge room. An unfamiliar black boy (interconsciousness avatar of this dream) of about twelve is also present to his left, closer to the west window. They are watching television.

An unknown man (preconscious avatar) is standing just outside the window (though I never see him). He is talking continuously. He seems to be bullying everyone in the lounge room as I watch from bed. The curtain covers much of the window, though not all of it. The boys move the curtain down more behind the bureau, and the man makes sarcastic comments about the act. I vaguely expect him to break the window, but there is no violence.

Meanwhile, parts of another dream are unfolding. It is about a stick that ends up in various machines. Someone pulls a stick that was somehow stuck into the face of a DVD player (implied to be about where my wardrobe is, though the setting is ambiguous bilocation). When someone unknown pulls the stick out, the inside of the DVD player seems organic, with the essence of the inside of a human body.

There is talk about the stick causing malfunctions in computers in part of a “Star Trek: Voyager” scenario. Robert Picardo’s head is atop a stack of motherboards in our kitchen and cheerfully looking at Tom Paris, who seems annoyed and puzzled. It seems the motherboards will eventually fuse and come together to form a human body.

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The last scene is my dream self trying to coalesce my thinking skills to become more aware, causing me to wake in this case. (I typically use reading text and technology features to augment dream self awareness, but I also used coins to do so in childhood.) Robert Picardo as my emerging consciousness avatar is pretty funny.

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Early evening of September 21, 2018. Friday.

Reading time: 1 min 56 sec. Readability score: 64.



During an evening nap, I slip into typical VSC in which I had borrowed a truck from someone unknown. I drive along in an unfamiliar neighborhood but with no focus on its unfamiliarity. The sense of movement, which begins my dream, is vivid throughout.

I stop near an unknown residence where two unfamiliar women are present. For no reason in particular, I ask the oldest one if she would like to return the truck to its owner. She seems slightly puzzled. I tell her how he only lives about a block away. We talk in a friendly manner for a short time, but I decide to return it myself.

I start to roll forward down a slope (a common VSC factor in dreams since early childhood) without driving, but I maintain control of direction with the steering wheel (and non-lucid dream control of VSC). I feel good. The street illogically becomes part of a big warehouse.

As the vehicle rolls into the big warehouse and turns to the left, I see that the street turns off ahead to the right at about ninety degrees, but an internal warehouse wall blocks the view of it.

I hear a loud roar, reminiscent of that of the MGM lion. A strange vehicle approaches from the opposite direction. It resembles a steam shovel without the cab and with the boom mostly vertical. It seems to be on a rolling platform. I get the impression of rails guiding its direction. The small bucket may serve as its “head.” Its “face” is blank and dark, reminding me of the essence of a television that is not on.

As it continues to move towards me, I realize the truck I am in no longer has a roof. It now seems like a military jeep. I have no fear at all (even though I am only liminally becoming lucid) and look forward to jumping up, grabbing, and crushing this “creature,” (as soon as it lowers closer to me) which may be a robotic maintenance vehicle for the warehouse, but instead, I spontaneously wake before it arcs down.

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VSC personification as the unknown older woman but then choosing to initiate the transition myself was almost like ad-libbing. It even felt as if I was randomly doing such as part of a self-directed stage play. Perceiving the emerging consciousness factor (though still dominated by RAS) as an “empty” television (as in my “Kingdom” novella of 1990) may stem from recently watching more television than I have in years, though still not as much as many other people. I have not perceived television as a “monster” since before I met Zsuzsanna, though even so, I held no fear here, only the desire to crunch the machine, with a sense of certain (automatic) victory.

A warehouse serves as a representation of leaving the liminal space of the dream state, typically the last setting of a dream.

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Morning of September 20, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 71.



Well, I guess the title is moot, as most of my bathroom wake-up call dreams are strange (which they would have to be to pull me into the waking process).

My dream self is vaguely aware of my need to use the bathroom, but it is not very urgent at this point. Still, there is the typical eventual false memory of “we do not have a working toilet in our house.” (This is a common dream self perception, which is rendered to trigger the waking process. I then often falsely recall we have two toilets whereby only one works until I am fully awake.)

I first go into the bathroom that is without a working toilet. After I go to the other one, I “realize” that neither toilet works. (In reality, we only have one, which works fine.)

Typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity becomes the main factor. (That is, there is the perception of being inside and outside at the same time, very common in my dreams.)

I notice a toilet beyond an ambiguous outdoor feature of ashes and miscellaneous junk, which is reminiscent of the bonfire location of Cubitis (though I do not directly think about Cubitis). Two unknown cheerful males are also present. I dramatically and cheerfully march over the area to the toilet beyond.

I need to fix the toilet before I use it (or it would otherwise not flush). I am near its base where there is a mixed-up association with small pipes and where it anchors to the floor on each side. (That is, the two unrelated factors incorrectly combine into one concept.) Two thin pipes on each side, only slightly above floor level, are open.

I am holding two objects. Each is a narrow connecting pipe of about three inches long, with a small hook coming out that resembles an incomplete miniature leash clip, with two thin strips of metal on each side of which resemble a blunt anatomical forceps. I need to insert each pipe into each larger one in the floor, to somehow connect the clip onto something I cannot directly see. (This makes no technical sense. It seems that water comes up from two small pipes in the floor to flow through the flat base and up into the bowl - even though the extra pipes are vertical.)

I start by inserting one on the left. It goes in, but water starts spraying out of the top (even though there was no water coming out of the original vertical pipe in the floor, so this makes no sense), as the clip is not in the right place. It has to link to something unseen to keep the pipe in place. I do not consider how ridiculous the design is, as there is no path from the flat part of the base to go up into the bowl. There is also a rubbery piece between the floor pipe and the one I had inserted. It is irregular and pushed to one side. I wake after this amusing annoyance.

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Morning of September 20, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time (optimized): 4 min. Readability score: 63.



Following vestibular system correlation (type one passive) as dream state induction, this stage of REM sleep is typically with less-directed thought processes, so I maintain my dream self as a passenger rather than a driver in this part of the sleep cycle.

I place my dream self on a bus (though I have not been on a bus in real life for years). I sit on the left-hand side (subliminal dreaming orientation), about four seats back from the unfamiliar approximately forty-year-old male bus driver. There is not much lighting even though it seems to be morning. I partly rely on my sense of touch.

The bus is going south, past the intersection of Loomis and Gillette Streets. (An intersection represents RAS mediation in real time.) My mother is in the seat in front of me, appearing as she was in the 1980s. I have no recall of her death in 2002, though I have no recall of my current conscious self identity either. My dream self seems to be about seventeen years old. (My waking-life age is fifty-seven.)

There are clusters of used tissues, some strewn on the seat to my right, though they may not be mine. My mother had given me a small pocket watch which I also loosely associate with a timer. (The watch thread comes from one of the first scenes from “Anon” from 2018, seen before sleep. However, it is also a concurrent ultradian rhythm factor and a subliminal assertion of the dreaming and waking process. The tissue rendering is the subliminal memory of our youngest daughter throwing her used tissues on the couch as Zsuzsanna and I were watching “Anon.” Carefully and intelligently note the erroneous dream state correlation of couch with bus seat. That has been a common distortion factor in vestibular correlation processes since early childhood.)

I see the analog watch face clearly, noticing that it is five seventeen. I hold it up to my right ear (subliminal waking environment orientation) and listen to it tick. However, after a time, I cannot hear it ticking, though, at times, there are a couple of discernible ticks before silence again. That annoys me. My mother is surprised, as she had just gotten it for me. I accidentally drop it onto the bus seat. I consider that it had become mixed up with the tissues. However, I retrieve it just before it moves down into the recess between the back of the seat and the seat itself. I vividly feel (without seeing it) with enhanced tangibility, that it is oval, though when I look at it, it is circular. I wind it without looking at it, feeling the winding crown tighten. It ticks a few more times but stops again. I start to wonder what the real time is, as it has only moved a bit towards five eighteen in all this time. (The imagery of the watch face remains consistent, which is an atypical dream state detail, especially when reading text or numbers as here.)

Instead of continuing south, we are now going north back towards the Loomis and Gillette Street intersection. My dream self does not question this nonsensical reversal. The area does not look as it does in real life. I get off the bus on my own. Eventually, I am in the Barolin Street house (which is in Australia, not America, though I have not lived there in years). I go into the kitchen of the Barolin Street house. (However, there is a vague essence of the Cubitis house as correlating with the living room.) Despite being in a variation of the Barolin Street house, my conscious self identity does not yet emerge.

I am going to get a new watch just like the previous one. I take it out of a disposable rectangular corrugated foil baking pan (inferred to be from the freezer of the refrigerator even though I do not discern any coldness from the feature) in which an uncooked chicken (for roasting) sits inside. The pan sits on a table. I soon realize that I could have taken the watch out without absentmindedly unwrapping the chicken. I pull the plastic wrap back over the chicken and close it up with Scotch tape. Around this time, I start to wake.

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The watch identifies the emerging consciousness factor, which in my dream, remains just beyond one-quarter consistency, though my dream self anticipates five-thirty. I am fifty-seven in reality (five seven). However, my dream self’s age is seventeen (my age when moving to Wisconsin).

The uncooked chicken (potential flight as the dream state exit process rendered as not a viable emerging consciousness event) is the final vestibular system correlation in a very passive projected form with the additional factor of subliminal awareness that I am undressed as I sleep. Putting the plastic back around it is analogous to keeping my bed sheet over my body as I sleep. (This was not the last dream of my sleep cycle.) When I was half-awake, I realized the bed sheet had slipped down over the side of my body.

The bus driver is this dream’s preconscious avatar (not dominant or confrontational as this is not my last dream of the sleep cycle) as well as vestibular system personification (linear). My mother, in this situation, is probably a subliminal awareness of Zsuzsanna (despite the total absence of my current conscious self identity in this dream), as she is the mother of our children (thus I hear variations of “mother” quite often from day to day). It also correlates with the scene from “Anon” where the female voice-over sounded as if it began with “Zsuzsanna” when the holographic watch appeared on Sal’s wrist from the storefront display. However, after “I am an open window…over infinity,” it is “Giguere,” not “Zsuzsanna.” (I did not know this before sleeping.) Additionally, if the movie scene did not occur from the far left side of the television screen, it likely would not have influenced my dream in the way it did.

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Morning of September 18, 2018. Tuesday.

Reading time: 2 min 52 sec. Readability score: 70.



Still aware of where my physical body is as I sleep, my illusory dream body rises and floats into our lounge room. I remember to focus on our porch for liminal space vivification (enhancement and sharpening of the midpoint between dreaming and waking). However, when I get to the entrance of the lounge room, there is no porch. My dream self is now implied to be corporeal but has distorted physicality. My legs are not viable, so I both fall and partly hover over the stairs, yet I do not wake. I get the impression of another physical form hovering above the ground, of which I bump. It seems to be an unfamiliar male, not very well defined. He is soon gone.

My dream is extraordinarily vivid but does not shift to the highest level of lucidity. The neighborhood is of a different appearance. Directly across the street to the north are more houses. On the west side of the intersection, I see a flaming man on a flaming motorcycle of which is traveling quite slowly. He is going south. The imagery is eerie but wondrous. I feel a sense of otherworldly awe. The fire is beautiful and increases my awareness of the dream state.

I anticipate his approach, as I think he will turn around and come back. He does, but eventually, the fire goes out, and he is walking with his motorcycle on my side of the street. As he is walking to the north side of the intersection, I boldly call out, “You’re Johnny Blaze.” He seems puzzled, and crosses back to my side of the street, approaching me. He is wearing a blue motorcycle racing jumpsuit with white stripes down the sides.

He stands close to me to become Ghost Rider again. I realize he will be able to look deep into my soul and know all there is to know about me. The experience is incredible. It is as if the universe itself is looking into all areas of my existence and personal history. He is a man again, though his eyes are glowing with eternity, infinity, and universality. I notice that flakes of my skin seem to be falling away from the scar on my right thumb, as I look down at it. There is no pain or implied threat.

Instead of any potential threat, he starts whimpering in appreciation of the life I have lived up to now. He hugs me and seems like a new friend. From here, my level of awareness shifts. I become less lucid as my dream changes into a different form, though the Johnny Blaze character is still present.

My mother is present, but I do not recall that she had died years ago. She asks me what is going on. I say, “I knew it was a dream, so I went from there,” regarding my description of falling out the door into a vivified scenario. That is very odd though, as I am no longer lucid (yet saying “I knew it was a dream.”)

As the waking transition starts, Johnny Blaze is no longer carrying the interconsciousness within the rendering. Still, I say, “Watch this,” only loosely expecting Ghost Rider to appear one final time.

Instead, a wall, like that inside a house, intersects the street, and a door appears in it. There is the common indoor-outdoor ambiguity (the sense of being inside and outside at the same time). Some other dream characters, including my mother, Zsuzsanna, and me, go over to the doorway. Beyond it from our side, we see that Johnny had crashed into a row of wheelie bins and fallen over, though I realize he is not the same character as before, as the interconsciousness had left the dream state right after hugging me (in temporary coalescence and unification). He is on the ground, mostly on his back and turned a bit to the left, looking somewhat surprised and annoyed. I wake quickly from here, finding myself in the same physical position as Johnny had been.

I should point out that I had held no thoughts of Ghost Rider, either the comic book or movie for a long time. Johnny Blaze was nothing like Nicolas Cage (or any other known actor) in my dream. He was an unfamiliar man of a more athletic build.

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Morning of September 09, 2018. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 18 sec. Readability score: 63.



I do not usually set the preconscious avatar on fire. It depends upon my acceptance of, and resonance with, the waking process (or how annoyed I might be about waking up in contrast to the more positive willingness) and whether or not vestibular system correlation is a factor of the transition.

My conscious self identity is not present at the beginning. It starts with a typical bedroom induction. The bedroom is a variation of Gellibrand Street in Brisbane, where we have not lived for many years.

Curiously, there are several other people in our bed with us, though I do not perceive them as intruders. (Our bed would need to be unrealistically wide to accommodate them, but I do not perceive it as such.) I am aware that the door into the bedroom is open, but it is to the left rather than in the middle of the opposite wall. (I am atypically sleeping on my right side, with my left more exposed to my real environment).

Two unknown males step into the bedroom. I do not know their intent, but I assume it is intrusive. Having a vague memory of my conscious self identity but not my real-life status, I consider what I should do.

Becoming aware that I am in the waking process of a dream, I become annoyed (as I had not used the induction process to sustain lucidity). I take hold of what is left of my dream self’s side of liminal space and create the intersection process, which is otherwise the choice to reenter deeper sleep or to wake. However, the feature is two rivers that cross each other perpendicularly rather than streets (though they are about the same size as urban streets). I mentally tie the preconscious avatar and his partner to a post where the rivers cross, mentally douse them with gasoline, and set them on fire. I deliberately fly up and out of the dream state much to my satisfaction.

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Night of September 13, 2018. Tuesday.

Reading time: 1 min. Readability score: 62.



Vestibular system correlation begins as my dream begins, which is semi-lucid but allowed to render randomly, as I do not make a willful attempt to orient or give willful detail to any of the patchy space. However, a common thought at this stage is choosing the setting of being on a bus, which is not as expansive a process as a helicopter or airplane (or flying unaided).

So the setting stabilizes as a bus, seemingly in late afternoon, but I am not corporeal, as I have not fully “stepped in,” though I am on the right of the bus driver’s seat. There is no driver. An empty child safety seat (baby car seat) is atop the empty bus driver’s seat, closer to the steering wheel. The bus is moving in a setting that seems like an ambiguous mix of a bullring (bullfighting arena) and a Nascar venue. Although it is driving itself, my dream self is still liminally controlling its direction and speed.

The Paul Simon song, “Baby Driver,” is loudly playing from an undetermined source, diffusing through the environment. There is an enhanced awareness of energy and activity. I start to feel very amused and cheerful by the absurdity of the scenario. Most members of the audience are cheering and throwing confetti as the bus circles the area.

I start to wonder why the Paul Simon song emerged, as I had not heard or thought of it in years. Still feeling cheerful, I decide to come out of my dream.

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