Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 12, 1976. Sunday.



In my dream, I find myself at what seems to be the bottom of the sea, though it does not seem that I am really that far underwater. It actually only seems that I am in about ten feet of water or less. There are a few different kinds of large sharks swimming near me, but I do not feel threatened.

There is something about retrieving a wallet, though I cannot recall if it is mine or not. For some reason, I am aware of at least one important credit card (possibly more) - Mastercard I think, with possible associations with implications of the word “master” - and possibly some identification cards or folded documents in the wallet I am to retrieve. I can easily breathe underwater, and move about somewhat as if swimming.

My dream takes on an odd ambiguity, almost like two simultaneous dreams (both “deep in the ocean” and “looking at city features”), or at least implied bilocated settings. Above me, I look up through a “transparent” floor (as if I have X-ray vision) and notice at least one girl in a skirt walking above me in a presumed office - though I do not feel any significant voyeurism-based interest regarding this imagery and perspective and it is also unlikely that the building above me is actually over the water, as it seems like a business building somehow being seen from elsewhere. However, it may also be a high school with a young teacher present, though I see no one else. There may have been an odd level of foreshadowing and self-fulfilling prophecy here. A few years later, when “going back to school” in a manner of speaking at WWTI (after moving back to Wisconsin) to get my GED (or so-called high school equivalency), I got a student ID card for the first time ever. After the term I absentmindedly threw it over a bridge over the Black River.

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High school (my tenth grade classes) had started on August 30th, but I did not go until September 13th, due to having recently had an operation on my hand, and I was also still in pain for a couple weeks after my surgery. This dream may have related to the concept of trying to find my “identification” (or place at school) while starting tenth grade with certain students perceived as “sharks”, or potential bullies as well as either “getting credit” for doing school work or getting school credits in a metaphorical association.

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For an indeterminable reason, this dream seemed somehow “linked” to another completely unrelated and later dream (perhaps being somehow associated with the “same” presumed fictional town at one point) about a fictional movie or documentary about the “1910 Fruitgum Company” (an American bubblegum pop band of the 1960s) as if it was a real company. At one point, I watch while flying or floating from above, a 1922 red Phaeton (long-term-recurring dream feature) going down a street. It is implied that “Winchester Cathedral” (which I vaguely seem to hear playing at least once in my dream) is “their” song, when it was actually done by The New Vaudeville Band in reality. On one level, this may have been a subtle desire to “return to the past” (or at least review it).

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Night of September 9, 1976. Thursday.



One of the worst nights of pain based on the operation on my right thumb (on the 25th of August) and wrist (and much tissue removed), a cobra strikes me on my thumb in my dream, extraordinarily vivid and bright in the backyard (Cubitis), seemingly in early morning.

Finally, my mother gives me a stronger painkiller again and I slip into an extraordinarily vivid and lucid dream. I am rolling down an embankment head over heals, along a grassy hillside, doing “perfect” somersaults with no physical discomfort whatsoever, and in fact, feeling quite peaceful and blissful. I roll into a river of mist. It looks like a normal river and in an otherwise normal meadow-like area, but instead is made of flowing foggy tendrils instead of running water. I am heading into a “bottomless” domain, much like Alice on morphine, I suppose, and am completely free from all discomfort and concern.

I “land” softly in a hallway after moving downwards through the mist for a seemingly long time, which appears to be the set for some sort of avant-garde movie called “Hello Harry”. It is about a young businessman who dies at an early age on his birthday (late twenties, I think). All of the other workers at the business, both male and female (but mostly male) benefit only from his work (and do little themselves) - yet he is mostly disliked by his business associates. This seems to imply that the business will now fail since he has died (though he is not the manager - there may be some sort of very subtle connection to “Gunga Din” by vague implications), without the other associates knowing or acknowledging his role in keeping the business going, possibly as the best or most dynamic salesman (and may actually come in part from having read “Death of a Salesman” at an earlier date, as I did read the 1949 play sometime during this period). He only has one good friend who mourns him. I “float” into a room with concrete walls and floor and see that the man who had been his friend is drinking too much from a bottle of gin and “celebrating” his friend’s birthday while wearing a multicolored cone-shaped cardboard hat (with red “V” or boomerang shapes) and a red tinsel lei. The remains are in a coffin in an adjoining smaller room. The rooms are mostly featureless and appear to be part of some sort of large basement, but possibly in the commercial building where he died. (It is possible he may be cremated in the business’s furnace, but I am not certain.)

The man (name unknown, I only know the dead man’s name is Harry - the other man could be Willy) goes into the smaller room and places a cocktail glass of gin on the coffin and takes one final drink from his cocktail glass and slowly and mournfully sings (to Harry) “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” (obviously not expecting an “answer” of any kind, as he is the only one there and the other man has died the day or so before).

However, a clear voice comes from the closed coffin and it is supposedly Harry (even though he has actually died) also mournfully singing…“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…”

This is the last scene and it seems to have some sort of science-fiction-like theme as well as the avant-garde movie essence.

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Morning of September 8, 1976. Wednesday.



I have not been in school yet in real life because of having been operated on regarding the odd multiple cysts on my right hand. This newspaper page with the entry was after my dream on the same day; relative to precognition or the very common somewhat trivial precognitive synchronicity - or whatever it is - but I have lived with it day to day since earliest memory. I also have just made a note after all these years that I had spelt “heels” in the title as “heals” and no one had ever noticed (that I know of) in real life since that time. There are probably thousands of such “revelatory typos” in my original journals. Due to the sheer volume of my work, I doubt I would ever find a fraction of them.

For some reason, I am doing continuous multiple somersaults in my front yard in Cubitis (doing somersaults was recurring during this period and was quite rare otherwise throughout my life - could have had something to do with the extreme pain in my right thumb and wrist and trying to “escape” it in-dream even though it was absent from most dreams). There is an actual roofed bus stop shelter with a bench and glass walls in front of Karen S’s house. To get there, I do somersaults all the way over, at least fifteen or so, even across the highway. (This was an area I needed to wait for the school bus in the morning in real life but not every year - sometimes the stop was at my driveway; another year, the next-door neighbor’s to the south.) Later on, it seems to be “normal” to walk on ones hands which I attempt for a short time. Not many people are around.

Later, I seem to be at a version of sister Claudia’s house where I had not been since I was a younger child in the first part of 1967. There is some sort of flood which oddly seems to be of different storeys. That is, the downstairs is flooded and the top floor is also flooded, but only from the level of the second floor as different from the flood downstairs but about the same depth. (In reality, the water would have just flowed down the steps.)

There is also something about buying chewing tobacco at what otherwise looks like an outdoor magazine (vendor) stand (which I never did in reality) and something about the product (Beechnut, I think) always being featured on the cover of “Outdoor Life” magazine, which is not true at all in reality, of course.

The main part of my dream features tigers coming up from the water, both in Claudia’s house (upstairs as well) and in the front yard of my Cubitis home, which is now flooded to about shoulder-high. I am aware that they are some kind of fictional aquatic tiger (perhaps with webbed paws and barely visible gills) although they look no different from normal tigers for the most part. I see about three or four rise from the water in different areas at any given time. This makes waiting at the bus stop somewhat problematic, although I sense it is the weekend and there would be no school anyway, which seems to justify being not all that concerned about it - though it is not the weekend in reality and I am missing school, which would have been the start of 10th grade on the 7th the day before. There are no dominant emotions relative to fear, though.

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An additional play could relate to feeling “clawed” (both in the scars on my wrists and right thumb and the fact that claws are on the “paws”/hands), which is also a play on my first name. It also may explain the association with Claudia (“Claw”-dia). I can even reach somewhat illogically to associate “tigers” with “ties” (relative to school responsibilities) - which is quite a stretch even for me.

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Morning of August 28, 1976. Saturday.



There were other versions of this dream, one many years later in the 1980s. The location is in the northeast area of my Cubitis home near our shed, a common dream location, often related to wanting to travel north on an otherwise passing train or by walking or running.

It was quite rare for radiation (which represents emerging energies of liminal space during shifts in consciousness) to be an issue in my dreams, although I have had a lot of dreams about meteors, some threatening (though meteors are just the conscious mind entering the dream state during the waking transition). In this case, the small orange tree (that never got very big in real life) in the northeast area by the shed has one large orange hanging from a thin branch. I become aware of this fact and focus on it. Over time, a large bright meteor moves down from the sky directly to the east. Even though it is seemingly far away, perhaps a few miles, the orange begins to glow brightly, first with a dull eerie light, then brighter. It has seemingly been infused with radiation.

It is sort of an ambiguous event. In some ways, it seems positive but in other ways, a possible danger. I am not sure why the meteor would have only affected that one orange on an under-grown tree.

Those who understand the purpose and meaning of dreams will know immediately what this is, and what type. Firstly, an orange represents the conscious mind in downsized rendering (analogous to the light of day or the downsized sun) for more intimacy with the unconscious self, even as a form of nurturing it, and for waking preparation.

The meteor, as basically anything coming down from the sky, is caused by threads of conscious awareness (another light of day association but upsized in this case). Dreaming itself is “flying”, and flying or coming down does not have to be the immediate unconscious self perspective, but any sort of projection as such into the rendering of the dream.

Thus we have a typical “failed flight” symbol (the entering of the conscious self into the dream), yet also threads of the conscious self becoming extended yet downsized and more intimately present and nurturing in my dream as the orange as it glows with growing awareness, like a sunrise, the opposite of what the (falling) meteor implies which is accelerated sunset, that is, the “sunset” of the dream form. The end of the dream, the beginning of the day.

Night of August 24, 1976. Tuesday. (Though more correctly in regards to dreaming, very early “morning” of the 25th, and being the beginning of Wednesday).



I am somewhat uneasy and restless. In real life, I had been in the hospital for the operation on my right hand to commence the next day - to remove the bizarre and unexplainable same-sized cysts (of which there were four “complete” and more growing) perfectly lined up on the left side of my thumb and partly down my wrist, which appeared to have fetal-like design of all things, like one of those “twins” you hear about in some ways, but not usually later in life (and there was a later rather ridiculous rumor in school that it was from a snake, as in snake “babies” - a story that I was not the originator of in any way). I was fifteen at the time and ready to enter tenth grade within a short time. After midnight, in real life, my mother being allowed to stay at my bedside as I was falling asleep (though she finally went home for rest the night after my operation), the young black nurse came in (someone I knew when much younger), shined a flashlight on my face, and asked if I wanted sleeping pills (though I was actually almost asleep at that point). She then directed the flashlight up at the television (which was quite high up on the wall) where “Night of the Lepus” was showing. “Watchin’ TEE vee,” she says with a hint of disapproval and left the room for the night (her flashlight oddly “enhancing” the scene of a seeming spotlight of the “herd” of giant rabbits).

In the eventual dream, there is a cobra under the operating table which does not really get to me, though I have to remember to keep my arm up and on the table (though there is a concern of what will happen when the large dose of anesthesia takes effect). Nothing eventful happens other than the “return” of a common dream element when I was much younger, this being an unusual “mist” (very cloud-like) that rolls along from about six to twelve inches from any implied floor or ground. There are also various distorted and apparently angry faces of unusual colors (with mostly passive responses on my part, as I seem mostly disembodied) and flashbacks to earlier childhood dreams. There are other cobra dreams related to this, the earliest being “Cobra in the Hayloft” from August 18, 1966, seemingly my first deliberate attempt to create a so-called tulpa (but fully in-dream). On September 9th (when I was supposed to be starting school by then but did not due to overwhelming pain as the feeling was eventually coming back in that area of my hand), I had the “Hello Harry” dream where the mist seemed to be engulfing a very large portion of my subconscious mind. This dream centered around a man who had died, but sang “Happy Birthday” to himself in answer to the one friend near his coffin in a basement and one-man party scenario. (This is not really that significant as my birthday is actually on December 20). Prior to the fall into the mist, I had been bitten on the thumb by a cobra in an extremely vivid dream of being in my backyard. The only good thing about this time was the “mystery girl” comforting me, which somehow reminded me of a scenario from the movie “Cat Ballou” (last seen on September 13, 1974, prior to the last time I saw “Night of the Lepus” shortly after - the other two movies airing being “Dark Passage” on another channel and “The Strange Door” on another).

This real-life event of my first ever longer hospital stay directly and precisely confirmed several precognitive dreams from early childhood, including one recurring one with both the enlarged right thumb and even the detail of a giant rabbit (relative to “Night of the Lepus” on television). This confirms the idea of physical precognition or foreshadowing of one’s own internal nature being somehow available (at least subconsciously) several years prior (though that certainly does not explain how I knew of the movie before it was even made, which happened fairly often when young).

Amusingly, the night before, the movie title shown at the same time at night (11:30) and same network (CBS) was “Doctor, You’ve Got to Be Kidding”. If that were not amusing enough, again, the previous time I had actually watched “Night of the Lepus” was on Friday the 13th in September of 1974. My wife’s birthday was Friday the 13th in September of 1968. This was long before I knew she was a real person (which came in 1991).

Morning of August 21, 1976. Saturday.



This very long dream event came about after falling asleep again before eleven o'clock in the afternoon, with the sun streaming through the windows but not directly near me. My parents were not in the house during this time. My more nightmarish dreams happened mostly in daylight, sometimes with the sun’s rays shining in through the curtains or windows as here and perhaps triggered by the body’s need to get up and do things, thus the dream state seems to become “hostile” to the dream self.

This one started out during the longest sleep paralysis I have ever had, about thirty to forty minutes, and it was during this time that I partly woke several times, going back into a very lucidly aware dream state. My head was “buzzing” at different times, but there was no “out of body” perception at any point. I was asleep on the couch in the middle of the living room, facing east, my head to the north. (Normally, sleep paralysis is enjoyable for me.)

The main events involved two pieces of furniture that the sun’s rays had been shining upon now and then in real life, but somehow also creating a nightmarish shadowy gloomy effect in the room. One was a kitchen chair, looking much the same as in real life and starting to “walk” from the same position from near the partially open curtains in real life at the time. The other was the small green metal typewriter table on wheels, with the built-in bendable lamp, with the conical green metal lampshade. (See photo; it is the same as I had). As the sun went behind the clouds now and then, but still keeping the room light enough to see all the details as I drifted in and out of lucid dreaming and sleep paralysis, either the chair or the small table would “walk” towards me in an ominous, menacing way at a particular time. What came the closest to me was the small green typewriter table, its lamp being the “head” and the bendable part being the “neck” of some sort of miniature surreal “giraffe” as it moved towards me, appearing to “study” me (with the light bulb “face”) and I was hearing its groaning and clacking “legs” and “feet” upon the tiled floor (even though it has wheels). As the last energies of sleep paralysis wore off, I finally caught myself staring at the chair in the room in real life (although when it was walking, it did not have as much a menacing presence as the small table). It did not move of course, yet still looked the same as from my dream, facing directly towards me in perfect perspective and still having a creepy essence before I was fully awake. This was fascinating to me after being fully awake for a time. It was almost like a game, where I would open and close my eyes to check whether or not the furniture was really seemingly alive or potentially menacing.

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This is obvious sunrise symbolism with the related dawning consciousness event. A light bulb (especially if on) is also analogous to getting an idea, used as such in various newspaper cartoons and comic strips. It is also a sunrise metaphor (logic related to daytime wakefulness and being “bright” as in contrast to a “dim” person or akin to the phrase “the lights are on but no one’s home”, indicating the dreams self is aware and active but not fully awake and conscious). It is fairly common to have unusual dreams when sleeping in a different location and here, the bendable lamp stretched towards me to create an aggressive sense of sunrise (the yellowish glow) and the need to fully wake. It was as if my conscious self was annoyed by me still being asleep.

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My lovely wife Zsuzsanna has also had a lucid nightmare with this theme, yet she was watching the upright electric floor fan “walking” towards her on its otherwise flat-to-the-floor four “legs” and moving its “head” (the motor and fan) in a very similar way as the small table with the bendable lamp (in a seemingly menacing “observing” way) as in mine.

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Night of August 18, 1966. Thursday.



This is probably one of my first more precisely documented dreams over time. It was recurring and lucid in some versions. One might think this would be a nightmare, but not even close, just a sense of childlike awe and wonder and likely my first tulpa-creating attempt within a dream state.

My dream usually starts at the Concordia Ballroom (at 1129 La Crosse Street) where my father often performed in real life. It is fairly late at night. I danced there in reality at the time, but in my dream, things are quite different. The Concordia building seems to be oriented perpendicular to actuality. There are also a lot of cars that seem more of a late 1940s style than the 1960s.

Not only that, I end up wandering off into the darkness, yet seeing that a large barn…yes…a barn - exists just down the street a short distance from the Concordia Ballroom.

In the barn it is semi-dark. Cobras are certainly not to be found in Wisconsin (in the wild, anyway), but there is a cobra in the hayloft (and only ever one). It is mostly black with a bit of yellowish orange. In some versions (even later on, as it got colder in real life), I wait expectantly, but wake up before it appears (almost as if it had to appear before I could leave my dream with “better confidence” - hard to explain). Sometimes it seems to be a long time for me to be standing there. No drama happens. No one comes looking for me. I do not think of climbing up to the hayloft at all. The cobra is high above in the hayloft, upright, around the middle area, and is no real threat. There seems to be a mystical atmosphere over the whole time period with similar dreams.

Morning of August 13, 1976. Friday.

Dream #: 3,525-07. Reading time: 20 sec.



I enter the Cubitis house’s southwest bedroom (where my school clothes are) in the late morning. I encounter a giant praying mantis that is about as tall as I am. It stands facing me (facing north) on the west side of the room. Curiously, I see it as an oddity, and I do not feel threatened by it. It does not attack me.

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My dream was probably at least partly influenced by the movie “The Deadly Mantis” (1957) though I had seen these insects in real life.

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Night of August 13, 1976. Friday.



I am within a continuity of false awakenings. There is a somewhat uneasy sense that someone else - a stranger - had somehow gotten into the house. This is unrealistic, as my bed is actually blocking the unused jalousie-window door to the carport (which opens inward). However, there is a shadowy form that I am sure is an intruder. It turns out to be a balding man in a loose, white, robe-like outfit and with some sort of medical kit in a metallic brief case, similar in size and shape to my real-life typewriter case which I then used for part of my Matchbox car, Johnny Lightning, and Hot Wheels collection. For some reason, I get the impression that he is “from Saturn” even though he seems fully human and from Earth. This seems based on some sot of hypnotic muttering he continues with and it is something to do with male surrogate “pregnancy” for an experimental reptile-like offspring, the area of the thumb being the ideal location for several reasons (including a natural tendency to draw the hand forward in defense). I seem to be part of some sort of unorthodox experiment conducted by a publicly unrevealed department of government.

I am unable to move or react as I am in a state of sleep paralysis, but not as vivid as usual. He injects something into my right thumb. I feel I need to escape as soon as possible. The utensil he uses is like a cross between a hypodermic needle, an ankh, and small scissors. There are various other objects similar to this in his case. I somehow manage to get out of my bed and try to get into the living room, but my dream “resets” and repeats a few times, and there is eventually a perception of needles moving on their own towards my right thumb, though possibly relating to some sort of implied magnetic remote control. They seem to fly “in formation” (like a flock of birds in a V-shape) at one point.

This, being one of the few actually disturbing dreams I have had in my life, was part of a relentless change. A few days later in real life, there was a rather small lump growing from the outer side of my right thumb which I only absentmindedly noticed when playing around with a metal band from a cheaper dismantled microphone and wondering why it had not fit on my thumb as it had the day before. Within days, there were five very large egg-shaped lumps (all exactly the same size) going down from my thumb to my wrist. They were apparently atypical ganglion cysts but had hair and bone tissue mixed in (almost like a miniature part of a Siamese twin). The doctor seemed extremely puzzled about the condition of my hand, asked me some unusual questions such as if I had “been putting things in there” which seemed ludicrous to me as there were no signs of cuts or supposed entry points and I certainly would not do something of that nature.

Because of the surgery and hospital stay, I missed the beginning of tenth grade, and eventually (when returning on September 13th), due to problematic scenarios in the school (such as a couple teachers not even spending time in the classroom while the students went crazy throwing knives and orange peels) I no longer went (stopping in October before I was legally “allowed” to though there was only one visit from the police) and got my GED in Wisconsin in 1979, getting told I had the highest results by any student at that time - which was not saying much based on how the other students looked and acted.

This also related directly to a much older precognitive dream (with several levels of precognition at once including seeing a movie that did not even exist at that earlier time - the usually low-rated one with the giant rabbits called “Night of the Lepus”). There was a lot of legitimate mystery around this and I have mentioned this in a few other entries, including in the original “Old Shack” dream documentation.

We left Florida in the last week of June of 1978 (with help from my sister Marilyn and her husband Bob). Looking at Google maps, I have discovered that my playmate’s house turned out to look exactly like it did in many of my earlier dreams - that is, abandoned, mold all over, and covered with vines. No one had lived there very long after my spiritual “outburst” after she moved (two different families actually going in for psychiatric help - Larry D actually killing most of his chickens, some escaping, after giving them a long speech about “not delivering eggs as promised”).

Whether or not this was based on long-term physical precognition (or some sort of natural cellular awareness) because of the additional childhood dream of my right thumb becoming enlarged and painful or perhaps was additionally triggered by a vivid dream state (and the very strange sounds and energies that come with sleep paralysis), is hard to say. I know I have often healed myself in dreams and meditation (even as a toddler regarding the accident with my left wrist and almost losing that hand), so I suppose the opposite is just as possible or even likely, even with the foreshadowing many years ahead.

Morning of July 18, 1976. Sunday.



I am in Cubitis or Arcadia, but not near my home. It may be a business office in the center of town. It seems to be late at night. Over time, there is a meeting where people talk about how certain things do not exist, including fairies, witches, devils, and oracles or wizards who pretend to interpret dreams, as well as astrologers and flying saucers. Some people give a speech.

Eventually, the most intelligent speaker steps up and talks about different things relating to the supernatural as well as UFO reports, though at one point he confuses “angels” with “angles” as in the “angel” of descent of a meteor or other body falling to earth. (My father did this in real life at the time; that is, sometimes spelled “angel” as “angel” in his song lyrics, which my mother found amusing).

Near the end of my dream, this last speaker turns out to be a “real” leprechaun who then boards a 1950s-movie-like flying saucer, and the audience is somewhat stunned.

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By a strange coincidence, my father talked about “seeing a leprechaun” the same morning, without knowing of my dream (and he rarely ever mentioned anything of that nature), talking about the newer green utility box near the culvert and seeing it through the window (through extended morning hypnopompia) as such. Later on, I imagined the same thing in hypnopompia in the morning, probably by the power of suggestion. I thought the outcome of my dream was quite amusing and would have made a good plot for a funny short film.

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Morning of July 7, 1976. Wednesday.



Along with “falling” as simply waking (though it also can be dream induction and also relate to partial awakenings between dream immersions), there are thousands of other dream features and events that are so easy to decode the real meaning of, I can only say “Occam’s razor”. A bed symbolizes…a bed. (Wow, that was difficult was is not?) In fact, even if you are not sleeping in a bed as you are dreaming, it still is a real-time dream sign. A lake, the first level of dream induction. (I have probably experienced thousands of water-based dream inductions, but that is irrelevant here.) Junk simply represents random threads of subtle conscious awareness linking to the dream self perspective. (This was validated by a lot of my childhood dreams, which also contained real-time bedroom-related dream signs associated with dumps and junkyards.)

There have been several versions of this dream with different additional scenarios throughout my life.

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In my dream, I am in bed “sleeping” at first. I soon find myself in the middle of a (unknown) lake as if the bed is floating, though it may not be floating after all, but perhaps attached to something. I do not realize that this is typical dream induction (that is, the flow of water coming into dream state awareness). At any rate, I do not become lucid. There are mountains in the distance (which represent the presence of emergent consciousness or subtle threads of conscious awareness).

I am also aware that there is old rusty junk in some parts of the water. Some of it is protruding from the surface, though not that much. It looks like part of a car (a typical dream “symbol” for dreaming itself, “in a car” and “in a bed” being closely related as such, driving a car being analogous to moving through the dream state), but since my dream is primarily induction only, not much else, only the waking transition comes into play, which is water getting lower over time, and in this case, reveals more plants emerging from the surface than anything else. Fun and easy.

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Morning of July 5, 1966. Tuesday.



This was recurring from this time period (after the Fourth of July in 1966) associated with an actual visit to a park; Veterans Memorial Park Campground in Wisconsin. My older sister Carol (half-sister on mother’s side) seems the strongest presence in my dreams for a time, with other older relatives also in the area including my older brother Jim (though only relatives from my mother’s side) and usually no other (either generic or unknown) additional characters. The area seems more isolated than in reality and somewhat bushy though there is an open area where a large house supposedly once stood. All that is left is the fireplace and part of the chimney. However, there is ambiguity here in that it also seems like a brick barbecue deliberately made for the park or at least is apparently mistaken for one or considered as such according to my dream’s back story. There is some uncertainty whether or not to use it or to look for another one (even though no one seems to be carrying food or other supplies). There were several variations of this dream, not that well-documented as I was only five years old at the time, though it is one of my first known recurring dreams. This dream series may have just been caused by a visual association; that is, the similar appearance between a residential fireplace (especially from actual ruins I likely would have have seen) and an outside brick barbecue. I am glad I have these wondrous memories.

Morning of July 4, 1976. Sunday.



There is something called a “time divergence” (my original 1976 dream journal title being “Time Diverge”, which I changed after more fully understanding “diverge” was only used as a verb while “divergence” was the event itself and sounded better as a proper title) which is based around my Cubitis home. This has something to do with the appearance of a black sheepdog, at times, carrying a miniature keg as in some cartoons. Time breaks off into a different timeline whenever this black sheepdog makes an entry from somewhere (from near or off Highway Seventeen to the west). All of the spirits of all of the United States presidents (or at least the more respected or more familiar ones) meet in my living room around a large rectangular table (longways north to south from the north wall), to plan how they may inspire or help humanity. I play the “shadow game” (testing to see if a shadow that is matching my movements in my dream is really mine - though it always turns out to be). George Washington and Abraham Lincoln are there for certain, along with a few other more familiar ones. There is not much drama; I mostly only watch and listen to the meetings, which are mostly in semidarkness, where no faces can be directly made out for the most part. The black sheepdog seems to be there to help people move on into “different futures” from where they are originally headed or something. I rarely (in my earlier childhood) dreamt of any positive associations with dogs. There is even a slight eeriness associated here, but no personal threat perceived.

There is also a device made of (semi-matte silver) metal that seems to be used for changing the direction or potential of “alternate” timelines (perhaps as if to bring all facets of time together into one “time stream”). It has a secret compartment - relative to a diagonal lid inside, and a hidden one past that - and is the same size as the larger rectangular box that contained Velveeta cheese at the time - but mostly like a matte silver trap for smaller mammals that we used in real life in school (grades six to eight).

Although I do not consider this dream to be predominantly precognitive, it occurred before I knew much about the “Hall of Presidents” in Disney World, even though I had been in Disney World in 1974 with my sister Marilyn and her husband, though did not see that attraction.

Night of July 2, 1976. Friday.



My brother Earl has been living in Wisconsin (in reality as well) but comes back to Florida on a vacation, I believe (possibly relating to the Bicentennial, which seems to be related to something on television at a lower volume in the background in the northeast corner). A lot of his belongings are in our Cubitis home in the living room. There is a black microscope (I owned a real one, neither a toy nor of cheap plastic in reality) and a lot of other things, including test tubes and such, somewhat like a makeshift laboratory. Most of the stuff is set up in the southwest corner of the living room on a very large table. There is a very vivid but eerie atmosphere.

He is talking loudly and clearly for quite some time while mostly standing in the northeast area of the room, but I do not seem to grasp a word he is saying at any point (it may be related to the television also being on, but again, it is not that loud). I know it has something to do with rocket science but that is about all that I get out of it.

Suddenly, there is even a more intense feeling in the room. A sheet of typing paper hovers in the air for a short time near the ceiling - and then flutters loudly at a forty-five degree angle downward, making the pattern of an implied staircase as it moves. I am not sure what this means. The air itself seems to vibrate with hidden energies.

Later on, I am on the carport and see a strange vehicle in the sky just beyond and above the other side of Highway Seventeen, to the west. It looks like a school bus with helicopter rotaries that also resemble umbrellas. It moves apart and back a little bit (and very evenly, almost unnoticeable) like the middle has large “accordion bellows” holding it together. The helicopter rotary also moves up and down as it flies very slowly across the sky to the north, making a lot of odd noises and a lot of lighter gray smoke. For some reason, it also seems very ancient, like from the 1400s.

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Morning of June 27, 1976. Sunday.



Dreams are sometimes known for providing supposedly worthless and ridiculous poetry that often has non-words or very odd variations of known (real-life) poetry. Here is an intriguing example:

Don Grady, the actor (who starred as Robbie Douglas in the television series “My Three Sons”), stars in an epic Western - “The Legend of Tony Karoni”. He was from Virginia (associations with “The Virginian” Western television series, I suppose) and sometimes rode in a group of many other cowboys. After many adventures, gunfights, and stopping rustlers, he ends up in a small jailhouse in an area in Southern California or possibly Mexico, to meet the local sheriff (and possibly to rescue a friend who is being held wrongfully). Two Mexican bandits are standing inside, leaning on the bars of the jail. One of them says, “Well, gang, look who’s back!” (There only seems to be the two men, no actual “gang”.) They then sing in a perfect, layered, somewhat metallic voice:



“It’s TOny KaROni!”

“All the way from NEAto’s cell!” (or “All the way from Needles’ cell!” - Needles is a place in California at any rate).

At this point, I am not certain if “Neato” was a play on the reversal of the “To” and “ny” of “Tony” or if they were actually singing “Needles” in reference to the town, though it does sound like “knee - toes”.

There are some possible plays here, one being from hearing “macaroni” in real life as well as possible associations with the “Frito Bandito” song (1967-1971?).