Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 15, 1967. Tuesday. (Daughter Amelia’s birthday in 1998.) Rough overhead “map” now included. Confusion stems from the fact that Amelia is supposedly in the airplane as well as on the ground with me (though on one level it may be her spirit on the ground with me rather than her implied physical form otherwise “duplicated” in the airplane) and we are facing away from the event even though it is also “clear” that we are watching it somehow.



I dreamt of being in my yard with Amelia Earhart. This is in the southern part of my yard at North Monroe Street in Florida. We are facing directly to the south even though the plane seems to need to be viewed north of us, but it seems as if I am (while disembodied) viewing the scene at one point from south of where I (physical form) am standing, my “real” incorporeal self looking northward and seeing myself (that is, my “real” incorporeal me - and my actual view - is facing the other dream-rendering of me in my physical form) and the plane is gong down to the left from my “real” view - yet she acknowledges this as if facing the event (rather than it being behind her as it is in my dream view). Amelia stands on my “other self’s” right. An old-fashioned Lockheed plane is going down diagonally in the sky as if in distress, with sparse smoke trailing behind it somewhat. I am somehow aware that she is my mother, even though I am informed by her that she is my daughter, which creates an intense puzzlement in the dream state, as it was also as if she was watching her own plane (with her own self in it) burning out and falling from the sky (with the likelihood of crashing somewhere in the distance). She is telling me how she crashed (or possibly only landed roughly without that much damage) on an island and something about the Japanese possibly shooting her down. There is an unusual mood that she may have been my “real mother” (possibly implied by the idea that on this date Will Rogers, a relative on my mother’s side, died in an airplane crash with Wiley Post, the first pilot to fly solo around the world and Amelia wanted to be the first woman to do this). Near the end, the imagery of Amelia and myself takes on a sort of grainy monotone appearance.

In real life, before we met, Zsuzsanna and I had decided our first daughter (if we had one) would be called “Amelia”, but not because of my dream (and it was in fact the name Zsuzsanna already chose and gave me over the telephone before she knew of “my” Amelia and dream history). At any rate, the August 15th marker regarding the foreshadowing of my daughter’s birth exists every year from earliest childhood up to the time she was born, as do most precognitive markers and is something I have never seen other people honestly address (other than with shortsighted denial and no viable understanding of dreams).

For a closer look at this dream and its real (native) meaning (as well as lifelong markers that many dreams have as well as unexplainable synchronicity related in the next paragraph), it is a very basic and very common (for me) “failed flight” waking transition; that is, something falling from the sky as representing the dreamer waking up (a subtle variation of the primary biological waking mechanism sometimes inclusive of a falling sensation and a hypnic jerk). The airplane (which most often represents a deeper potential of the dream state) is on fire because fire also represents light of day and dawning consciousness in this case. “Failed flight” does not typically mean anything negative as it simply means naturally waking from the “flight” (and “displacement”) of a dream (and this same waking transition can be seen in tens of thousands of other dreams, including those with meteors which is directly analogous to this dream’s content as well).

Additional layers and long-term markers: Wiley Post and Will Rogers (my mother’s cousin) died on this date in a plane crash (and information on my family connections, father as well as mother, can be found in books such as “The Papers of Will Rogers: From vaudeville to Broadway” and “Cowgirls of the Rodeo”). That does not invalidate the synchronicity with our daughter’s birth date; in fact, it confirms it since there are over fifty other date-relevant markers for her birth, most prior to my meeting Zsuzsanna.

Morning of August 14, 1977. Sunday.



I had this dream after falling asleep in the bed in the added “carport room” my father eventually used as an additional area to practice music while my mother then used the older music room (southwest corner of Cubitis home). It was normal for me to have completely different “energy” (and even perspective) in dreams when sleeping in a different location (and I did such on purpose to “stimulate” new potential but no longer “required” this later in life) - often having false awakenings and false memories of sleeping in an additional different location.

My dream was extraordinarily vivid and quite different to most others of the same time period. I was “revolving” (yet somehow seemingly fixed in space at the same time) around a farm scene (farmhouse and barn mostly) that was mostly in reds and oranges, with the farmhouse seemingly being the “hub” (of rotation). I could see every detail quite clearly and sharply, including a wheelbarrow, a livestock trough, haystacks, sections of fencing leaning against the barn, and so on. Although it is late morning (but on Sunday), I am somewhat in awe of the seemingly meaningful dream that continues for quite some time (with no feeling of being disoriented or dizzy - it is almost as if it is the scene that is somehow moving smoothly on a “virtual roulette wheel” and not me), almost as if it has significance of some kind or is some sort of “important art” that must somehow be captured on camera (which strikes me as unfortunate because aspects and features of it seem to change over time). At the same time however, it seems to be an enhanced three-dimensional hologram of some kind with slightly harsher lines (at a later point) than what would imply physical reality. It is hard to explain, because some aspects almost look like an oil painting at times and it eventually takes on more of an artificial look, yet still extraordinarily beautiful. I get the impression that “I could watch it all morning”.

My dream shifts into being fully “in body” at an unknown location. It seems to be the southeast section of the armory and game rooms we took a break at from taking our SAT tests at our nearby school, but on a fictional third floor, it seems. I am aware of the pool table (as its general location in reality), but the size and layout of the rooms are slightly different.

A male student, who was somewhat of a bully in real life and quite chubby (to where he “automatically” urinated and wet his pants when he ran in real life, especially on a harder surface such as the street), is seemingly known as a sort of “super villain” at that point, as if my dream suddenly created a back story without my awareness or cooperation (regardless of my dawning lucidity). He is dressed somewhat typically though.

Suddenly, I become quite lucid, but am not sure what to do. The male bully, who is about twice my girth (but almost the same height) approaches me, saying “Want the Hog?” (his “super villain name”, apparently) and moves his arms out a bit (as if for a bear hug) as if in readiness to fight. I go to the large window on the east end of the room (choosing to ignore this dream scenario) and notice it is open enough to just crawl through. As I look out, I see several young children playing and laughing near a park bench and water sprinkler near where pigeons are feeding. The sunlight is bright, and the detail is quite clear. I start to crawl out the window in an attempt to also fly (or leap and then fly), but do not quite make it as I then start to wake, left feeling somewhat frustrated. (In real life there was a mostly unused playground bordering that end of the building, which was always empty when we were there, and some friends and I were yelled at for going on the swings and acting “childish” - and my friend - Jeff S - went on and on about how ridiculous it was to say that older teens never sat in swings, which was what the teachers implied in their condescending “warnings” about never doing it again.)

Morning of August 3, 1967. Thursday.



This is probably my first vivid plesiosaurus dream. It mostly involves the “coming to life” of a two-page painting spread which I think was inspired by a book in real life previously (though I have not tracked down the source). It involved a very vivid and long event of a plesiosaurus fighting with an ichthyosaurus. There was a lot of color and well-rendered detail. I was seemingly not in any danger at any point; it was more as if I was floating about or hovering, watching the event as if it was some sort of amazing holographic movie. At times, I was aware of being in a large sailboat on my own on a calm sunny afternoon, though, and watching and feeling the movement of the big waves (caused by the fight) hitting my sailboat. There were times when I felt joy in looking up at these creatures from my sailboat. It seemed that no other person was around for many miles. This was like a special private enjoyment. There were minor degrees of semi-lucidity at times. The closest shore was seemingly west, though I had thoughts that I was traveling southeast.

Morning of July 17, 1977. Sunday.



Disney’s cartoon ducks Huey, Dewey, and Louie are all on one unicycle. Each one is on the shoulders of the previous. The duck sitting on the actual unicycle and steering it ends up going off the road after going over a bridge, and landing in the river. The other two blame him.

“This is not my fault,” he says. “It’s a frame-up!”

“What’s a frame?” asks another.

“It’s something that holds a picture.”

“What’s a pitcher?”

“Something that holds wateh (water)!”

“What’s Wateh?”

“Something we’re up to our necks to in!”

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Although this short “adventure” was not much for precognition, it does remind me of a story I heard from someone else later in real life whom had recently also came to Australia. He said he had gone into a restaurant and said “water”. The person behind the counter acted as if they did not understand even when he repeated it. Finally, he said, he slapped his hand down, very loudly and “clearly” saying “WAH-TAH!” and then they understood. I viewed this dream as if floating in front of the scene, which is three-dimensional even though it is like a cartoon.

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Morning of July 15, 1977. Friday.



This dream was on the morning after drinking a small amount of beer from my brother-in-law Mel who was visiting from Wisconsin. It was titled “The Beam” in my original dream journal as well.

I am walking out to the highway (Highway Seventeen - the original route before the name was changed to NE Cubitis Avenue) with my father very late at night (or very early in the morning before dawn). I notice a partly melted bicycle just off the highway (about half on the wayside) that a very thin beam (like a laser beam) was shining onto, going into the handlebars. I also notice that a small part of the highway itself is like liquid as it is beginning to melt, sizzle, and bubble. I am aware that this beam is eventually going to melt everything in its path and is potentially very dangerous for some of the world and will likely continue to be problematic for a long time. There is no real sense of danger regarding my own safety though, or that of our home, at least for the time being. Its path at this point seems to be mostly down the highway to the north. I am not certain of its origin and not exactly sure if the bicycle is implied to be mine or my father’s.

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The meaning of this dream is basically the same as thousands of others I have documented, studied, and decoded and is anticipatory autosymbolism for waking into the light of day, more specifically via the emergent consciousness, seeking out the dream self for coalescence and to “save” the experience and perspective of the dream state. The same template and components, with the same meaning, are easily seen and recognized in dreams like “The Tadpole’s Ghost”, “Laser-Eyed Alligator”, and many others, though are more passive in dreams like “The Day There Was No Sun” where the role and active threads of the dream self and conscious self are slightly different, which probably depends on circadian rhythms and the time (and the date) of the dream.

Curiously, the highway begins to take on properties of another typical dream conduit, the river, though I have no perception of bilocation in this dream. The highway in this case seems to be “melting”. It is almost as if the “light of day” beam of the emergent consciousness is changing the dream setting for a “smoother” flow into the waking state by transforming it into the river conduit but this potential does not complete. The melted bicycle has been validated as a symbol for alcohol intake. As little alcohol as I have had in my life (even at my present age) it always triggered the appearance of a bicycle in a dream, almost always partly melted as here. This can be understood to mean that alcohol alters both balance and direction of thoughts and also alters the linear and more stable nature of decision-making.

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Morning of July 3, 1977. Sunday.



I seem to be in another time period, possibly in the distant future (as the buildings look futuristic). It may or may not be Earth. There is a large city; some of the buildings being with dome-like tops, but there are no people around. Apparently, everyone has cleared the streets because of the supposed end of the world soon coming. As the world is supposedly going to end, a very small robot, looking vaguely similar in some ways like R2-D2 from “Star Wars” (except a bit smaller and more squarish) slowly moves down the middle of the wide street - and there is a feeling of terror sensed (not from me, from the unseen people of the world or region). It almost seems amusing to me in afterthought, as this small robot will be the sole cause of the world (or human civilization) to end.

The area in my dream also seems to be bilocated with my Cubitis driveway as the robot approaches our carport from the west.

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Morning of May 12, 1977. Thursday.




In my dream, I am in an unknown and unfamiliar location at some sort of unfamiliar amusement park with a prehistoric theme. The rides seem mainly based on dinosaurs or other prehistoric features. Over time, some of the rides seemingly “come alive”. I go up into one open area and look down at a circular plesiosaurus ride (similar to one of those miniature speedboat rides in a small circular pool setup at a carnival or fair, though elevated about six feet up) where it is now possibly no longer a ride but solely an animal display, because a small (baby?) plesiosaurus is alive and swimming about in the water, though there may be others under the surface (though the water is not that deep). I notice a very strange and strong earthy odor like moss and dirt. The prehistoric creature has a black “oily” partly reflective skin. Some people are looking down into the water and cheerfully finding the sight very enjoyable and a few younger people are throwing fish to it from a white bucket. Perhaps the creatures at this park were cloned or “made” somehow. (About two years earlier in reality, in 1975, the first mammalian embryo had been created by nuclear transfer.) There does not seem to be any danger at this point.

Later though, a dark green tyrannosaurus bends down unexpectedly and I end up in its mouth. However, I am not afraid (but I am very annoyed) and so I hold its mouth open with my arms up and my body in an “X” shape while facing outward from its mouth so that it cannot swallow me. Still, it does seem to be a “real” live one. (This of course is a would-be coalescence event and potential waking trigger but I somehow stop it in my non-lucid state.) I somehow escape or absentmindedly teleport to another setting.

I eventually go back to the water park area with the living plesiosaurus that may only turn out to be a disguised seal to give the public a “show”. This is not certain though, but only a residual focus. This idea, in conscious afterthought, seems illogically mundane (relating to my dream’s events and mood) since I supposedly had been in the mouth of a “real” tyrannosaurus only a short time before.

Morning of April 10, 1977. Sunday.



This was a rather long dream which lasted until late morning. There seemed to be at least two “resets”. One of the main characters in my dream is Roosevelt I (but more adult-like) who is a friend and a classmate. There is a girl with him who may be an adult version of Tina L. The main theme of my dream is that a boat disappeared. It was a small motor yacht with a cabin though Roosevelt and Tina mostly stand atop the cabin. This disappearance had happened, supposedly, a few years prior, I believe - I am not fully certain of my dream’s backstory (possibly because of the “resets”). What had happened was that, when the first boat was going around the winding curve of a river, with each bank covered with very tall trees and other plants so that you could not see through to the other side of the river bend, it never arrived on the other side and was never seen again at the time. There were a few witnesses to this event.

Experiments are conducted in the region that relate to the river’s water and its currents. Roosevelt is doing most of the research. Later, he and Tina are going rather fast down the river. Suddenly, another boat comes around the bend and almost hits them as it is on a direct collision course. At this point, I am fully in my dream and it is very vivid. Although I am on the boat with Roosevelt, I seem to be a non-character. There is no accident, only a sense of awe at the boat returning with the people not seeming to have aged. This turns out to have been the boat that had supposedly vanished years previously. Apparently, there is some sort of time barrier whereby, under certain undetermined conditions, anything that travels through it at “just the right time or speed” shifts into a parallel universe of sorts, or so it seems. Interestingly, in my dream, the events do not seem that much like science-fiction.

Morning of April 9, 1977. Saturday.



This first part is part of a much longer dream series - the “Zane Master Zeff” cluster, but involves a sort of monster-chase as one of the last parts of the scenes of this particular “set”. I am having a sort of shape-shifting “battle” with another shape-shifter. It starts when I am at the middle school on the southeast area of the grounds (but fairly close to the building) and a tyrannosaurus seems to threaten me (this being a form of the “Zane Master Zeff”). I vividly grow as tall as the tyrannosaurus (recurring) and punch him in the “face” and he falls back but is not defeated. We become different things including giant snakes and back to dinosaurs again - for some reason, he even becomes a brontosaurus in a manner that suggests that he is now the probable “victim” in the battle for a time, but eventually is the tyrannosaurus again for a very short time. (This is partially left over from earlier childhood dreams where I enjoyed being a giant and fighting with another giant, knocking over buildings, etc.)

After a time, the other tyrannosaurus is no longer in view. I look down and see that he is now actually a shorter but human-sized version of the Nebbish from Crazy Magazine and he is waddling off to escape. For a moment I think that I could just step on him, but I let him waddle off, seeing the top view of his unusual hat and apparent nervous shaking. (“The Nebbish” may not be his “true form”, though, even though it seems as such for a time.)

I have decided to include some of the main body (at least in partial summary) of this seeming series here. I had assumed and finally decided (in my twenties) that the “evil” character’s name, Zane Master Zeff, was possibly a distortion of Zen Master Jeff or Zen Master Seth. This character was my nemesis and a shape-shifter as described in my dream above. It may also be a relevant play (or misremembered pattern) on Zane Grey, the writer, though possibly even a play on “zany”.

In my last relative dream, I finally defeat him and in the last part of my dream, I see myself sitting on a throne on a platform above a flight of steps. I hear myself say “I sit on the throne and lo…I am the Zane Master Zeff” which seems to indicate some sort of ironic or odd ending (as if the character had been playing me somehow or possibly a different odd or ambiguous twist).

The main theme seems to be protecting my wife (the “mystery girl”) and fictional family. Even though we had supposedly just been married, time shifts and we have five or six children. However, I seem to move through a time distortion of this supposed destiny (because of the “evil magic” of Zane Master Zeff) and my family transforms into an image of high grasses near the wayside of a dirt road. It is very vivid, and my fictional wife and children seem very vivid. This imagery of a fictional family of a wife and children transforming into tall grasses by a roadside continued on and off for years. Sometimes I even felt quite sad, even “guilty” about it. It is interesting how I actually did come to marry and have several children - something that adds up to far more than self-fulfilling prophecy considering all the other evidence I have lived through by direct experience.

This dream, in some ways, turned out to be date-specific precognitive. I also now have five children (updated in 2015). There really did seem to be a lot of “dark forces” (for lack of a better term) working against my new family at the beginning, mostly caused by my wife’s disturbed mother (many lies and manipulation of government and authority and even fabrication of medical concerns, though she did succeed in taking my wife’s sister’s child without any intervention by authority whatsoever and basically ruined - and still controls - her life). It is also interesting that my wife has an “unlikely” two of the letter “Z” in her first name. There were numerous similar dreams regarding this theme, also precognitive.

Morning of April 8, 1967. Saturday.



I am in a featureless and seemingly barren landscape with the zigzagging path (recurring). In the background, it seems almost as if the horizon is “fake” or part of a theater backdrop.

A pair of boots walks more to the right side of the scene, and forwards toward me. This is not nightmarish, but quite eerie. It may relate to the idea of “filling the shoes of my father”. Because I was only six at the time, I am not sure about any viable associations, though.

Optimized 1 minute 30 second read.

Thursday morning, 7 April 1977.

Cosmic Dawn (Wild Haflinger Horse in Front Yard)

Dream # 3,762-02.

I am standing in my front yard near the south side of our driveway in Cubitis early in the morning. The sun is incorrectly rising in the west.

A beautiful Haflinger horse is standing nearby. It faces me from the south near the first small silver oak tree. I think its name might be Cosmic Dawn, but I also vaguely consider “Cosmic Dawn” may be the name of a movie I am making. I try to recall if the horse is mine.

I calmly approach the horse to pat its nose, anticipating a spiritual connection. It suddenly seems afraid of me. It backs away and neighs loudly and unrealistically. It gallops to the highway, making stiff, unrealistic dancing and kicking movements with bizarre wriggling reminiscent of a mosquito larva.

Despite the increasingly surreal imagery as the horse continuously bucks as it progresses south, it briefly seems like a mechanism controlling the cosmos, including the movements of planets and stars. The night sky is visible through parts of the morning sky near the western horizon only.

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Lucidness and conscious bias seemed to result in the bizarre outcome. I often have more control of dream content in the second half of my sleep cycle with less lucidness (because of conscious bias), including when my dream self has no recall of what “dreaming” is but intuitively recognizes the essence and inconsequentiality of non-reality.

Ultimately, a horse corresponds with my ongoing perception of my imaginary physicality while in the dream state. My dream body and other imagined physical aspects of non-reality are not always stable, and awareness of that factor was present here. My dream made me realize that temporality outside of consciousness is ambiguous, as the night sky is visible through the sunrise in the wrong direction.

This dreaming experience integrates a real-world influence regarding a younger former schoolmate tying his horse to the first silver oak tree from our driveway. He had come to talk to my father about something his parents wanted. I was no longer going to school since age fifteen. I was not with him at any point, but I watched his horse through my window.

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Morning of April 2, 1967. Sunday.



When I was much younger in my dream work (around age nine), I had later tried to recall or determine associations with this recurring one as if it might have been based on an obscure real-life memory (even though only a few years had passed at the time since living in Wisconsin), though that does seem somewhat unlikely.

My parents and I visit, a few times, an old married couple on seemingly the west side of the street, possibly Third Street in La Crosse. They live in what seemingly used to be a large clothing store and the one large room is mostly their living area. The storefront door and windows (and now empty window display area) are mostly always blocked from the inside with multicolored velvety curtains. It is still mostly a commercial area of the city, though.

The old couple typically sit at a smaller dining room table, right next to the wall, man facing west and woman facing east, where there is a small bowl in the middle of the table (though sometimes a plant pot) that catches rainwater from a leak (though it does not have to still be raining at the time). The leak is usually only one drop at a time. For some reason, the whole scene and living area does not seem unusual at all. We usually visit them around nine in the morning or earlier.

It seems possible that my dream was built by associations with the “Jack Sprat” poem (possibly the only association I had at the time with an older couple at a table in this manner), the “Don’t Let the Rain Come Down” song (Serendipity Singers 1964 version), and an actual one-time visit to an older couple in the city. Still, this is one of the mysteries from older dream work as it somehow seems more relative to a real memory and place, which for some reason, is more elusive than much clearer memories from this time period. I usually kept my dream work secret (mostly due to believing that published works about dreams were all completely wrong), so did not ask my parents. It could be a composite memory of two places we frequented in reality.

Night of March 4, 1967. Saturday.



After extensive research I discovered that the movie that mainly influenced this recurring eerie dream was “Blood Beast from Outer Space“, also known as “The Night Caller” and “Night Caller from Outer Space“, first seen at age six. I also finally learned that it was a deformed hand, not a lobster claw as in my dream. I find it interesting how the last few minutes of a movie (seen in early childhood) can create such an intriguing recurring dream scenario for several years (though not nightmarish for the most part). I very much enjoy learning more and more about what influenced my dreams throughout my life and pinpointing dreams and trends. (Note that the IMDb date for this release is incorrect, as it was first shown in America prior to the listed November 1966 date.) I had this dream while sleeping in the matte black 1950s camper we had at the time in the space above the cab. Seeing this footage after so many years had a rather odd emotional effect on me.

In the actual movie, the alien was not a giant, but I was easily able to determine where the long-term influences came from, almost like traveling back in time or greatly stimulating old memories with an enhanced clarity. I am not sure why this particular few ending minutes of a movie had such an impact, while many other movies I have seen seem to have had little or no impact at all.

In my dream, I am outside at night with my parents seemingly during a long trip from Wisconsin to Florida (we do not have much with us - just enough to fill the otherwise empty areas of the station wagon - as the camper I am sleeping in in reality is not featured in my dream for some reason). It appears to be near a very long shopfront in a parking lot, including a used car lot on one side. A giant man (about twenty feet tall) with a burned face and with one arm being that of a lobster threatens the whole town. Fire seems to be involved and he seems to glow eerily in a pale green at one point. For some reason, we have to leave everything behind in the car, including my favorite coloring books. My mother assures me that I will have new coloring books at our new home (in Florida) when we get away from this danger. (I am not sure why we have to find a different car to leave in - perhaps there had been fire damage, or the engine stopped working or it was wrecked at that point in some other way.) Whatever state we are in at the time (which is uncertain in-dream) will no longer exist as a state because this giant creature will live here within the fire. (In the last scene of the movie, the alien stands in front of a large fire for a couple minutes.)

There appears to be some sort of odd (nostalgic) connection to the Johnny Cash song “The Story of a Broken Heart” (as if it were part of a monster movie and descriptive of this giant creature - it is possible I heard this song on the radio around this same time period). For some reason, coloring books seem to be my most important possessions in this dream. There was a motel we stopped at, at night, where I really enjoyed looking through an (as yet unused) over-sized (seemingly) dinosaurs coloring book.

Morning of February 9, 1977. Wednesday.



Dream Series: The Experience of Prescience, the Inexplicable Dream State Phenomenon. Part 4

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This dream’s main setting is an unusual variation of my Cubitis home. The shed is not present in the northern part of the backyard and one area near where the front of it would otherwise be is the side of a trailer that is oriented north to south, where two of my older brothers, Dennis and Jim, supposedly live (though they are living in Wisconsin at the time in reality, not Florida). The location of the main focus or dream’s climax is the exact same spot in the north side yard where my “mystery girl” revealed herself for the final time in this particular setting in a later dream (and also above where the body of Christ was literally buried in a childhood dream - eventually indicating I was the “son of the universe” in this cycle of existence), with the exact appearance (and unlikely accent) in every way, as my wife-to-be, Zsuzsanna, before we ever met in reality or even viably knew that we were real to each other.

An unknown beautiful dark-haired green-eyed girl (with the usual mixed Hungarian and Australian accent) features in my dream, thoug again, she has the same appearance as my lifelong “mystery girl” (dream girl of otherworldly beauty). She carries a sword which sometimes has a blue sheen and she wears some sort of unusual bikini-like outfit composed of teal-colored reptilian scales. Where I have a large scar on my left wrist, she has only a small scar on her left wrist. (In reality, Zsuzsanna has a smaller scar like a section of mine on her left wrist in the exact same spot where it matches mine. We got them in the same way; by falling onto a broken glass mug shard.)

At one point, I enter the trailer (its door otherwise in the same area the shed door would have been, though it is elevated). Jim and Dennis are not there, yet I have no doubt about the “reality” of this dream. I become impatient and angry at not finding my “mystery girl” after she is not present for a time, so angry that I tip over the shelves containing my brothers’ cassettes and records and such. I then make all the chairs fly about with telekinesis for a time as well as my literal “turning the tables” act, where I will a table to spin about and change its original orientation.

However, my “mystery girl” appears again in the next-to-last segment of this dream. She tells me that it is not my time to be with her yet and says she must “return to the Source”. I am not sure what it is all about. She is to be my bride, so I become impatient and reach out to her. She tells me that I will meet her in seventeen years in Australia. She seems to shrink, become younger and younger, and over time, becomes a gecko and scurries off southward. (In real life, I met Zsuzsanna in Australia exactly seventeen years after this dream, on February 9, 1994.)

I walk quickly south (covering more ground than would be possible in reality), thinking I might see her again, and, as is often the case, there is shallow water in many areas, but curiously, some swimming pools are mostly somehow empty while parts of the ground are lightly flooded (a variation of the very common water lowering waking symbolism, signifying the cessation of the dream state).

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Morning of September 13, 1977. Tuesday.



Somehow, the ghost of a mermaid speaks to me from a burning bush (but is later only glowing in light, with brass-colored rays coming out very brightly, with triangular tips - in the back of my mind is something about the book of Revelations in the Bible). This is near the right, when facing the house, southern side of the carport. Supposedly, this entity is my wife, or has been or will be my wife. A little after this, in real life, I had also made a one-copy home-made comic book for a few issues (no longer in existence, I suppose) of a young mermaid called Mary and her boyfriend John. In my dream, the mermaid was named Cleo (who appeared as a “normal” human for the most part - but had some special abilities at times in a couple other dreams). In this particular dream, it seemed she somehow also “lived” in the bush (a pun on my future wife living “in the bush” in Australia?) as well as being a “ghost girl” (for example, the shrub itself was where her spirit or soul actually “lived” - like a genie in a lamp, actually). Also in this dream, the mermaid seemed almost divine or holy. Other than the name “Cleo”, there is also (implied as angelic) “Gabrielle”, my wife’s middle name. Considering this was on her birthday before I met her (or even knew about her), I count it as precognitive as such.