Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 29, 1973. Sunday.



The original title switched from “Pandora’s Box” to “Little Devils” and back and forth again over time in my extensive childhood journals.

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In my dream, I am in my father’s room in the northeast corner. The white dresser aligned to the north has a large box on it, which I first think is perhaps a treasure chest. It looks quite old. Soon, though, I am semi-lucid and thinking that it is probably Pandora’s Box. I am not certain, though. After puzzling on it for several minutes, I open the chest and back up. Hundreds of mosquitoes fly out of it, but they seem to have human-like cartoon-like faces. Even though they fly out at me and towards me, it is as if I am phased out from the scene while watching, and there is no threat as they seem to fly through or past me to the south.

I am clearly aware that this is a scene directly from Revelations 9:9, 9:10, and so on (“They had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the thundering of many horses and chariots rushing into battle” and “They had tails with stingers, like scorpions, and in their tails they had power to torment people for five months”), which is supposedly exactly the same story as “Pandora’s Box” in my dream (but of course, it is not in reality). One of the lead “demon mosquitoes” has the face of Hot Stuff from Harvey comics (and many of the other “insects” have similar faces), but a bit paler and almost clown-like, with its tongue sticking out. here is no real fear, just a sense of mild eeriness and a realization of pure silliness in the back of my mind.

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In this dream, I instigate the waking transition myself. There is no threat and I already seem “apart from my dream” while only being aware of the feature of the Hot-Stuff-like “insects”, some of which otherwise resemble clown faces (similar to what I had perceived on a Florida canna lily caterpillar). This dream renders several different waking precursor components simultaneously, flight from the dream state, coalescence (implied - I am never covered by the swarm), opening a box, and the primarily red, orange, and yellow representing sunrise (or more correctly the paths of rays of sunlight in this particular dream). The focus on red in a dream usually means I have been sleeping just a bit too long, which turned out to be true in this case (and was especially true for my dream “Red Rays of the Sun”).

Morning of April 28, 1973. Saturday.



As with most of my online dream journal entries, this was the original title when first recorded in 1973.

There is a white convertible (early 1960s Cadillac) that travels north down Highway Seventeen (this is the most outstanding dream element other than the house itself). It is an unfamiliar car to me (in terms of knowing anyone who has one) and seems to be part of a movie scene. I view the scene directly from above at first from a sort of skewed perspective to the right (not quite “two o'clock”) rather than as straight from “top” to “bottom”, again, from an implied straight down from above camera view. As the “movie” unfolds, it seems to relate to a haunted house on the opposite side of the highway from my Cubitis home, slightly north and between my family’s and Brenda W’s home in distance.

However, there is more to it than that. Not only is the house “haunted”, it actually moves around on its own, and seems to imply that the house is “alive”, as if it is some sort of slug-like creature with a man-made house as its “shell”. A few people seem to vanish in town, and some detective work is done. In fact, a main aspect of the fictional “movie” seems to focus on detectives and their ideas about what the house really “is”.

Later on, another unknown person comes to town and is able to “stabilize” the house somehow. It then turns out that the house was not really haunted in any sense, but was simply moving to different areas relating to the environment and how many people were in a given area at any one time. Thus, it is sort of like the “opposite” of a haunted house in that it was “afraid” of people or at least wary (for example, it had a tendency to “crawl away” if too many cars were parked in a specific area). The people who had supposedly vanished were living in the house as a sort of “vacation” from other people in the region with no threatening aspects from the “house creature”.

In the last scene, a factory has been built in the area the house had been “grounded” in. Three chimneys are billowing black smoke. The outer walls of the house are slanted at about a forty-five degree angle away from the pollution and noise. It cannot get away, though. There is a sense of melancholy.

Part of this may have been some sort of play on “living room” to “living house”? It may also be vaguely linked to the song line “…and they all lived together in a crooked little house”.

Morning of April 7, 1973. Saturday.



I have come to realize that even this (much older) dream had at least one precognitive element; that is, a tag on an item when in a store to know when someone has stolen (or is trying to steal) the particular item - although the first time I saw something similar in real life was years later at the main library in Wisconsin, and later on, the usage of such a device in record and video stores and finally grocery stores (regarding my own experiences, anyway).

In my dream, I am in some sort of science-fiction movie called “Homing Magazines”, which is a play on “homing pigeons”, I take it. My dream features a “ridiculous” (at the time, at least to my family and me) idea that stores, including grocery stores, could tell when someone was taking something by causing a simple beeping (several years before it happened in real life, at least seemingly where I lived in a small rural area) by having some sort of tag on the item that can be activated or deactivated or have something over it (like a tinfoil sticker or some such) to “turn it off” - a sort of “scanner”.

There were a few versions of this dream. The first one was a mix of science-fiction and crime drama, where the store (similar to something I saw quite later in real life, so that is another precognitive facet) made a claim that their prices were much higher due to shoplifting, which seemed obnoxious, kind of like the mentality of when the activities of one “class clown” results in the whole class being punished.

The device also acts as some sort of homing beacon, which then actually causes the items to somehow fly back to the store or warehouse. Magazines move through the air late at night like magic carpets. A box of tacks opens, and with some sort of magnetic pattern, causes each individual tack to fly in formation like a large number of airplanes (or a flock of geese), point first. However, action figures only walk (not fly) back and toy cars drive back. Certain food items, like milk cartons, do fly back to one store, though. Pink-frosted doughnuts move through the night sky like miniature UFOs.

Eventually, it comes to the attention of the authorities that one store is taking everything back, but when people finally go to investigate, the store has moved to another location. I see various items moving through the air late at night to the new location. The new technology even senses people and their movements and speech and deliberately leads them to wrong locations. There is then a special crime lab that studies the “rogue technology” as they call it, although I am vaguely aware of the term “maverick tech”, possibly the name of the business that makes the illegal technology. This eventually causes all stores to drop theft-related technology and offer higher competition in their “loss leaders”.

Night of April 4, 1973. Wednesday.



I am on a four stacker ocean liner very late it night (or an hour or so before dawn) that apparently has left California (even though I live in Florida). There is firstly the idea that the liner is on its way to Hawaii (probably influenced by the Elvis special “Aloha From Hawaii” just aired at this time). However, I do not want to go to Hawaii, but feel I need to keep going all the way to Australia (though I knew little of Australia at the time). I become a bit concerned that the ship is not going as far as it “must” for me to get to my “mystery girl”.

It seems I deliberately jump from the ocean liner but then have a sense of having done something foolish, as the ship is very far from any land. I do not want to swim back to California (which is illogical thinking as I am still within range of the ship) but want to go to the other side of the world to meet the “mystery girl”. I feel a profound sense of sadness regarding my failure to be with my wife on the other side of the ocean - which is unusual in that I am not an adult in reality at the time, though I do sense I will “grow up fast” if I make it to my supposed destiny and important destination. There is a sense that I will likely eventually drown though I have no physical discomfort in-dream. There is an unusual melancholy impression (very vague) of music. It is a three-note progression, followed by a five-note progression, played on something that sounds somewhat pipe-organ-like but more distorted. The almost inaudible sound (which seems to project even more melancholy associations) seems to create or alter the motions of the waves at one point. The sorrow I feel in thinking I will never reach my soulmate (or destined partner in life) is one of the strongest it has ever been in a childhood dream. (This was long-term precognitive as it sounded just like the opening of the Fixx’s song “Reach the Beach”, which was not released until about ten years later in 1983. The album cover also strikes me as reminiscent of my dream. There is also a song called “Liner” on the album which has the lyric “Seen before, back in an infant’s dream” as well as "Liner, it was a fantasy sea cruise. It was a bet destined to lose. Across the waves, what was he thinking?” Therefore, it cannot help but be one of my favorite musical albums as there are numerous other personal associations even though the seeming personal connections are only subtly partial and not directly relevant to the song meanings in reality.)

There are layers of quite different linear formations of colors (mostly perpendicular to the direction I am swimming) representing the ocean - the surface of the ocean being almost continuously rainbow-like in a sense but also dark and very eerie, and I see myself from a distance with my arms up out of the water. I also get the impression that the beach will continue this pattern. Time seems to have “stopped” and the visionary impressions seem to last a long time even after waking.

Morning of April 1, 1973. Sunday.



I am in my backyard in Cubitis and there is what is supposedly “the longest snake in the world” a few feet south of me though I do not really feel in danger at any time. A few other unknown and unfamiliar people are around. It is a long skinny black snake that does not seem very threatening. In fact, I am not even sure if it is that much alive, though it does show some minimal signs of life. Its head is at the southeast corner of the house near the utility room and the rest of it is lined easterly across the yard almost to the weedy area prior to the train track embankment.

There is an unusual but rather vague idea that it will grow longer and longer until it reaches around the world, yet that seems not at all inevitable as it does not seem to be growing or even moving much. Not much happens, and it stays in the same area for the most part.

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It is very clear here that the snake is a “replacement” for a virtual fence between my yard and the girl who lives next door (where no barrier of any kind exists in reality). Even though the idea of a black snake keeping rattlesnakes away (which I heard fairly often during this time period) is probably not true, that does not stop a dream from utilizing such a myth. Therefore, the black snake analogy as fence and as protector is consistent as a fence also protects in a different way. In other words, at the time, I seemed to believe the girl next door needed protection from me even though the relationship we had never developed into harmful long-term repercussions. Is there a “temptation” layer as snakes sometimes represent? Perhaps on one level due to the deplorable Adam and Eve myth but only if one has heard it once too often. I could step over this virtual fence but I do not (though I do not feel threatened by it). Therefore, the snake serves as a fence, a protector, and as a reminder of temptation - all in one concise composite that dreams are so intriguingly known for.

Morning of March 24, 1973. Saturday.



I am standing on a large red “flying carpet” (vaguely associated with the saying “rolling out the red carpet” while in my dream) with golden tassels. I am with the adult son and daughter of Lucille Ball; Desi Arnaz, Jr. and Lucie Arnaz. (Lucille Ball seems vaguely present at times, but this is more like a dream within a dream.) Everything is seemingly going well at first. The flying carpet has an additional part that is like a large pillow on one end. We mostly stand as we ride on it high in the sky, mostly going west in my dream. In the end, the magic carpet must be left behind, as it somehow gets stuck in the ground or between rocks near a parking lot of a shopping mall (which seems to be an area of the school grounds by way of real life association). I see a diagram that is like some sort of X-ray view of how it is partly oriented within the ground, including orientation relative to the direction it was going at the time (south), and with technical notes on how it ended up there.

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This dream is a result of typical dream state autosymbolism by way of vestibular system correlation. Of course, the song “Magic Carpet Ride” is a dream induction influence (especially as its first line is “I like to dream”). It also takes on the dream state indicator analogy of being like a bed. A parking lot is dream state autosymbolism that represents the physical body being inactive in sleep.

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I explain this dream type further in “Dreams of Type PRECONAV-VSCPCEL, 01-15”.

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Morning of March 3, 1973. Saturday.



The main influence had apparently been from watching “Mackenna’s Gold” (here being my first viewing). However, there were typical western elements (like a long wagon train) in-dream that did not really feature in the movie and seem more likely borrowed from “Gunsmoke” or elsewhere. There are large groups of men (cowboys) chaotically rolling around down through shallow canyons like some sort of singular mass of colors (I view this from a high place), like human hedgehogs meandering everywhere like an ocean wave over the dusty land, filling sections of the canyon four people high - and wagons that expand like balloons and flutter out like sails in some areas on the sidelines - hundreds of men traveling by rolling around randomly down the sides of hills, piled up and rolling off each other, instead of walking or riding a horse. Human beach balls.

I am in a covered wagon at times with an unknown dark-haired girl who is apparently sleeping, on the other side, but the ride is very bumpy though the wagon rocks gently at times as well. I look out through the front and see no driver or wagon master. It does not look quite right; almost like a random set of small thin timbers going out at odd angles into the trail ahead, including one going up into the sky and somehow staying in position. I only occasionally think I see one horse on one side. It is still going in the correct direction, I suppose.

Light shines and moves (like the headlights of a turning car - though there can be no cars, can there?) through the prairie schooner’s canvas at times. I begin to have contradicting thoughts that we are inside a Chinese dragon of the type one sees on Chinese New Year. It must be a parade where the wagons are connected and look like a probably colorful Chinese dragon on the outside. I do not seem to recall any back story for this situation. Still, it is fun as long as I do not have to be observed being inside the dragon’s stomach. People cheer. Was I eaten? I do not think so.

A man in a top hat walks into some sort of store. There are at least three shelves behind the counter. They are selling treasure maps. The treasure maps are large rolled-up carpet-like items, standing vertically on the shelf almost like rolls of material for dressmakers. The cheerful man waves with his right hand and approaches the counter to buy a treasure map, but the entire scene is (or becomes) more like a drawing from a 1940s magazine advertisement. Being static, it still seems like a real-life situation and “resets” a few times, though, again, like a page of a magazine (or perhaps a panoramic curtain print) stuck in front of me instead of a “real” and dynamic scene.

They are very strange treasure maps. I somehow attain my own. You have to roll it over the entire area (from the right beginning spot) in order to study the map and go to the area where the treasure is under a section of the map. Does it just get bigger and bigger? Distracting. Then the huge map lying over the land near a canyon is more like just newspaper. Perhaps a mistake was made (and I received a newspaper instead of a valuable map, or maybe the map had a newspaper section somewhere out at one corner). I stand on thin newspaper beyond the edge of a cliff and somehow do not fall. The giant, expansive newspaper loudly flutters in areas where it is somehow suspended horizontally in the air beyond the cliff; reminiscent of a cloak flapping in the wind for a time; the loudest sound around (it sounds like several people shaking open newspapers at the same time, with an interesting echo added to the effect, an echo that “falls” into the valley below). Looking out over the canyon, where does the newspaper end and where is the treasure map? Perhaps I should walk back onto solid ground or perhaps stay put. I feel rather embarrassed standing on the floating newspaper when the treasure is probably close to the store or nearby building.

Night of March 1, 1973. Thursday.



In real life on this day, I am twelve years old and living in Cubitis. My mother tells me that the CBS late movie of this night is “The Night of the Iguana” (from 1964), which sounds interesting to me. I surmise that it is possibly some sort of monster movie or perhaps horror and probably takes place on a small island. I want to watch it, though it is on too late for a weeknight (though my mother allowed me to watch television on a school night if I had had a longer nap, though which I did not in this case), though apparently my mother is going to at least watch part of it and perhaps tell me a bit about it in case it is shown again on a night when it is possible for me to watch it. The television sits in the northeast corner of the living room and when I sleep (from about ten-thirty, the movie starting at eleven-thirty), I dream that the movie involves at least one cat-sized iguana that climbs people’s legs, due to supposedly mistaking human beings for trees, as I had read something of this nature somewhere in real life. One boy (about my age), in particular, needs to remain motionless in several scenes (where nothing happens otherwise).

My dream version seems to have no ending and my dream-self is not fully integrated into the setting. The next day in real life, I discovered that the movie (much to my puzzlement) was in fact a Richard Burton movie about a defrocked minister becoming a tour guide in Mexico and thus had nothing to do with people remaining motionless while an iguana roamed around - which of course, would not make for much of a movie anyway, as the in-dream events implied that whenever someone moved, the iguana would run to them and climb their leg, the person staying still until someone else in the outside area moved. (This was my first dream of the night before crossing over into the next day.)

Morning of February 17, 1973. Saturday.

Dream #: 2,252-02. Reading time: 1 min 15 sec.



I am in Cubitis in my backyard in the late morning but watching a documentary at the same time (as if by way of a dream within a dream). The airplane overhead stays in one area of the sky longer than would be possible. At times, I seem closer to the plane as if I am watching the scene.

I watch an experimental aircraft called the “Black Robin.” It looks like a soaring bird in design, with a curving pattern on the backs of the wings reminiscent of bird feathers. There are also false associations with an increase in car crashes in the region. These crashes are a result of lovebugs getting into the engines. (These are insects that fly around in twos, attached to each other’s tails. People typically cover their car’s grill with a screen during this time.)

The Black Robin, on its first trip with many tourists, is swarmed by lovebugs as they enter crucial areas to cause a malfunction, as well as obstructing the pilots’ views. The Black Robin is of the same orange and black (in the same proportions) as the insects. The airplane begins to smoke, and it crashes somewhere northeast of my home, probably in the cow pasture. There is a tribute parade in the town center, with cannons on some of the floats. Characters from “Gilligan’s Island” are in the parade.

Over time, the Black Robin and its crash is more of a supposed urban legend. I feel puzzled over this in my dream. It is as if the experimental airplane never existed, and the histories of the tourists aboard were covered up or forgotten.

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Part of this dream may have been influenced by the “Love and the Baby Derby” episode of “Love American Style” (from the night before on the 16th), with Bob Denver (of “Gilligan’s Island”). “Derby” rhymes with “Herbie” and Herbie is the “love bug.”

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Night of February 15, 1973. Thursday.

This was a sparsely recurring (and always uneventful) dream of the bathroom in Cubits and a fictional one directly above it in an implied second storey. This is actually the only type of dream I have had (to my knowledge) where that house supposedly had a second floor - and only the bathroom of this nonexistent second floor ever seemed to be discernible in any way. While only ever in the “real” bathroom, I can see up through holes in the ceiling (caused by disrepair, I think) into the fictional in-dream second-floor bathroom. The toilet is in almost the same location, but slightly to the right. I do not think there is any major trouble with the plumbing (or any sign of larger leakage), but I sense the bathroom does not get much use (which seems logical - as its floor would be unsafe to walk on). Again, oddly, I had never thought at all (in-dream) about any other possible rooms of the fictional second floor.

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Something being higher is most often related to being closer to conscious self identity. The fictional bathroom is on a fictional second floor, and relates to a need to actually use the bathroom.

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Morning of February 8, 1973. Thursday.



There seems to be a (fictional) movie involving a sailor’s romantic relationship (and he is an unknown character to me). I am watching a very large television (perhaps four square feet) and there is a movie on, seemingly oriented on the west side of the room, though I am not sure what building I am in. (It may be from a memory of a motel my parents and I stopped at when traveling to Florida.) There are scenes of the man being intimate with an unknown woman, mostly hugging and talking at first (though followed by kissing and a love-making scene). The scene relates to his leaving America, I believe. (It may be that he has already left America to meet this female in another country, perhaps Europe or Australia, though I am not certain.) I think the movie is called “The Kiss”. Eventually, though starting out as a cutaway view, everything takes on an X-ray appearance at one point and I am watching the insides of their bodies in x-ray. It does not seem that unusual. Later, I notice color variations. The flowers in a vase on a table in the motel room seem to be affected by the colors on the television screen or change accordingly. It is almost as if features of my dream are “leaking” into each other.

This dream seemed a partial result of a less focused “experiment” where I was deliberately trying to dream in black and white. I think the cutaway view may be an influence from looking at cutaway views (side views) of the human reproductive system.

Night of February 1, 1973. Thursday.



I am sleeping on my stomach on the carport roof of the Cubitis house, facing north, fairly close to the first trellis, not really noticing the large corrugated sections running east and west (which were very annoying and problematic to maneuver over in real life, especially barefooted), with my arms supporting my head, a bit unrealistically too far out from the edge of the roof (as if my upper body is supported by an intangible surface). It is late at night, and there is a slight odor of smoke, probably from the west though also likely underneath me in the side yard. I cannot remember when I decided to sleep up here as it is not Friday (dream logic - though I typically did not mess around on the roof on school nights in reality) though it is curiously not that cold for the winter.

Either the Virginia Dare colony or the gypsies from “The Valley of Gwangi”, or perhaps both, are camped out at the southern periphery of the orange grove. It seems like a good way to survive for awhile - in eating Harold M’s oranges. In the distance behind me (mostly southeast?), John Boy Walton is hollering (almost inaudibly from my position though) about the inferiority of strangers (and the fact that only the Waltons are actually real people) and the superiority of Walton’s Mountain. I feel like climbing down, finding him, and punching him a few times, but I mostly remain relaxed, probably because I also sense that a tyrannosaurus will soon eat him in mid-speech (or perhaps the father of Virginia Dare will shoot him - I sense he has already been shot once under similar circumstances). However, in a drastic change of mood, John Boy decides that the Virginia Dare colony belongs on Walton’s Mountain. They are possibly intangible ghosts.

It also eventually occurs to me that the Virginia Dare colony was eaten by the tyrannosaurus from “The Valley of Gwangi” and I cannot understand why that had not been widely published in the newspapers. I know there is a tyrannosaurus around, but I somehow also know that he will not be in the immediate area at any point. I hear Harold M shooting at random dinosaurs briefly with his rifle (likely from a lawn chair on his very small mostly enclosed patio where he usually shoots at foxes and crows in reality), with an odd unrealistically distant echo, and cussing about his oranges being pilfered. Meanwhile, John Boy Walton dons a fox mask, which thus (automatically) makes him the new sheriff and so he can find the rest of Virginia Dare’s relatives. I am disgusted and disturbed by Virginia Dare’s father (Ananias Dare) roasting the eohippus (from “The Valley of Gwangi”), or maybe it is not Ananias Dare but Matt Dillon (James Arness). I am angry about this, but it is too late to crawl down from the roof via the trellis and I am wary about the tough look on Matt’s (James’s) face.

Afternoon of January 7, 1973. Sunday. In-depth revision on Sunday, 22 April 2018.



Scene one: My dream starts with my semi-lucid dream self walking south beyond the backyard of my Cubitis home (the backyard being on the east side of the house) in late afternoon, close to the railroad tracks. I do not attempt to actively auto-script my dream but I do summon some schoolmates into the setting, which discernibly includes (in order of real-life familiarity) Toby, Brenda, Steve W, Tina, and Sharla. I contemplate experiencing a science-fiction adventure. Walking a short distance from my home, behind what would be the second house south of mine, there is an area where the railroad tracks had somehow seemingly been pulled upwards. Looking up at the bent and twisted railroad tracks, which are at least twelve feet in height, creates vague vertigo. The feature also reminds me of a ladder. From here, we soon come to an old wooden sign, with “FORBIDDEN LAND” (in two rows, that is “FORBIDDEN” written above “LAND”) sloppily painted in red. Despite the sign, I know we are going to explore the area.

Scene two: Eventually, after walking east, we find ourselves in a small isolated town of which has the overall appearance of Dodge City, from the “Gunsmoke” television series, though there are a few additional modern features. When we are inside a restaurant and there is noise outside, like amplified galloping and implications of an earthquake, there are people talking about this event as if it occurs on a regular basis, at a certain time each day around noon. We notice plaster falling from the ceiling as whatever it is passes by, down the dirt street. There are not many cars and most are from the early 1960s. There is talk of a giant white horse. It is said that it is a hundred hands high, which is about 33 feet. I realize that the damage to the railroad tracks was caused by the giant horse galloping across that area. Despite the damage it has caused to the buildings (apparently the people are always rebuilding), the giant horse apparently does not go after people.

Scene three: We make our way up a mountain, but I am on my own in the final view. I am looking down over a large field, mostly featureless except for a lake in the right of my view, though there is also a cluster of trees beyond. The giant white horse was a mother that had been looking for her foal which she has now just found. The giant foal is drinking from the lake, which is not much bigger than him. I sense that they will go north to another land and no longer be problematic for the town. My dream takes on a very peaceful and positive tone. I feel very happy upon waking.

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Threads of scene one explained: The vague vertigo is a dynamic of vestibular system correlation (and the lack of viable awareness of my real physical body as I am sleeping), even in the intriguing ambiguous railroad tracks to ladder association, a ladder implying the potential to rise up from the dream state or augment lucidity.

Threads of scene two explained: My subliminal conscious self chooses the “Gunsmoke” set in recognition of my dream being like a movie or television show (unrelated to real life), which has been the case in a number of other dreams. Additionally, I typically pick the farmland to the east in such dreams (though it sometimes resets to being back closer to my house) as I was unfamiliar with its overall real-life appearance as I had never gone there and could only see some of it from my backyard. This way, my lack of experience with what the area looked like benefited the imaginary layout of my dream (even though my dreams do not render locations correctly anyway, to avoid associations with waking life memory). The restaurant in scene two seemed modeled somewhat after my middle school’s cafeteria, though was only around half the size. The attention to the plaster falling from the ceiling is a focus on liminal space division while in the dream state. It is more linked to vestibular system correlation than is doorway waking symbolism (or other subliminal anticipation of the dream ending).

Threads of scene three explained: In this dream, the emergent consciousness factor, more commonly rendered as an animal in childhood dreams, is the giant white mare. In the final waking event, my dream self, perceived as the foal, due to its incomplete nature while in the dream state, is found by way of the preconscious transition, without any conflict. This is a type of coalescence event which activates consciousness. The final dynamic is the very common water lowering waking symbolism, key autosymbolism for leaving the dream state since early childhood.

Conclusion: The main concept of this dream (the giant horse) was borrowed from the “Arizona Midnight” episode of the “Gunsmoke” television series seen the previous week (January 1). There was also an incidental association with the large plastic black stallion Aurora model that was of a much larger scale than all of my other animal model kits.

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Morning of January 1, 1973. Monday.



This was more towards just after one or two a.m., I think. I do not believe that there is any symbolic meaning or “message” other than typical meandering post-hypnagogic associations (though in my experience linked to random impersonal remote viewing or even foreshadowing). These are often solely incidental visual associations (relative to morphing), neither metaphorical (other than for the dreaming process itself, such as a clock becoming a bomb to stand for the process of waking up) or symbolic. Although such dreams may have beautiful imagery, I have never found them to have any personal significance and they seem to be a sort of Tetris effect relating to what was seen on television or elsewhere the previous day or in some cases, collective consciousness regarding a particular holiday mood.

A female toddler is standing and smoking an oversize cigarette in an undefined area (which I am not sure is indoors or outdoors though it seems more logically to be indoors, perhaps in a large hotel lobby). This act seems to make the immediate environment extraordinarily dirty with particulates of soot and even somehow causing small pieces of (mostly metallic) miscellaneous junk to fall or appear out of nowhere, such as very small broken springs, clock or wristwatch gears, and what may be broken parts of a toy plane and toy motorcycle. The toddler is also smudged with soot across her shoulders but happily puffs on the cigarette. The idea that smoking a cigarette will somehow cause tiny dirty springs and other tiny metal junk to fall from nowhere seems perfectly “normal” in-dream.

From here, I look more closely and realize that I am not seeing what I thought I was (though in actuality, it had in fact transformed). It is not a toddler, but a realistic doll (probably with a wind-up mechanism to move its right arm up and down to its face) and rather than smoking a cigarette it is blowing a New Year’s party horn (the kind that spiral out with a very annoying mid-range-pitched trumpet-like noise). Instead of falling soot, it is sparkling confetti (though there is an ambiguous association with real snow) that seems to be produced and somehow recycled (as a continuous display) by a machine. Instead of junk and broken clocks and toys, it is small wrapped presents which then take on a Christmas-like feel (even though it is after Christmas). I contemplate if I am viewing a new feature of “The Hall of Presidents” (Walt Disney World Resort).

This dream was related to a plane crash the prior Friday (which I had not really focused on), and a photograph which featured a “scarred doll lying in the mud” only seen after my dream, though this event may actually be coincidental as it lacks more personal detail and precision (for example, “automatic” association with Baby New Year, smoking, New Year party horn, etc.) "Eastern Air Lines Flight 401 was a Lockheed L-1011-1 Tristar jet that crashed into the Florida Everglades at 11:42 pm December 29, 1972, causing 101 fatalities.“ The question here is whether I was remote viewing the newspaper at one level or the actual scene (of the featured photograph)…OR…if it was visual (fractal-based) precognition relating to my individual path (and I had also physically been in that area in the recent past). Things like this are difficult if not impossible to attribute to just one unexplained mechanism (as most people try to do). (Even the extremely precise remote viewing of the Nancy comic strip on the morning of April 27, 1974 was discovered to have several additional unexplainable mechanisms at work - including a much older version of the same comic strip gag by the same artist - and validated associations I could not possibly have formed or linked consciously at any level.)

Morning of December 25, 1972. Monday.





This is a dream from Christmas morning of 1972. At the time I was certain that I was sleeping on the floor of the hallway during several false awakenings (I was actually sleeping on the living room floor fairly close to the Christmas tree and did not remember how I got there) - but of course, that would not have made any sense based on what I was seeing - a very strange and vivid state.

In my dream, I am pondering, over a very long time (seemingly several hours) on how a new Pinocchio book was sitting on the record shelf along the north wall, being the outermost book (it was actually a record shelf for 33s, not for books) - “It’s probably an unwrapped Christmas present,” I am thinking - but I am too tired (in my dream) to cheerfully get up and check everything on this Christmas morning. I feel dazed (years later, I learned this was precisely a jet-lag feeling I was seemingly experiencing). I was seeing it in a sort of vague half-aware state yet still saw it “clearly” in one sense. Pinocchio was shown from above the waist and seemed to be holding a violin or something (it was actually Hank Snow holding his guitar) - although I sometimes get the impression it is a large wooden mallet. This turned out in real life to be the cover of “The Best of Hank Snow” record album that my hypnopompic states were warping somewhat whenever I opened my eyes now and then and through false awakenings unrelated to the earlier hypnopompia.

It is also not realistic that I could have even seen this view from supposedly lying on my back in the hallway, fairly close to the back door.

Over time, a dream within a dream (and more vivid) unfolds, I have the recurring “mystery girl” dream (no mystery - this was the girl whose birth I sensed in 1968 and ended up marrying - from a great distance across the ocean to the other side of the planet - that area and Port Kembla are almost perfectly parallel in a diagonal mean and in each case, the hospital within the same close distance to the beach).

She seems sad and on the right side of a fictional doorway in the hallway. The doorway leads into a dark fictional room which is reminiscent of a cave - I have had several variations of this dream. I see the glow of a television which seems not bright enough to be a television even in a dark room. Later I am aware it must be the oven in the real-life kitchenette on the other side of the wall. (Ovens sometimes “replaced” dragons in childhood dreams.) We seem to be in some sort of intimate intended “meeting of minds” but it is mostly uneventful - I simply know she “is my wife”, yet I do hear her “mother”/“dragon” growling and snarling in the room with mostly human-like vocalizations. It is as if the girl is “trapped” by the manipulations of her mother even as an adult who wanted to have her own life (this turned out to be true in every way years later). She is beautiful but it is not the “time” - she is very young in real life at the time. My “jet-lag” makes me feel somewhat embarrassed (even this turned out to be true many years later).

I begin to curiously seem to be in two dreams at the same time (the most has been four simultaneously, to my knowledge). From there, I begin to pantomime the song about Miller’s Cave (only the title for the most part is relevant in this case). Doing a sort of embarrassing pretend-march (rather than just implied normal walking - why march in a cave?) and rather pointless arm movements (almost as if pretending to be a marionette) I look through two sets of eyes at the same time - a very odd awareness - one being “me” there and then in that dream within a dream - the other looking at the supposed Pinocchio book on the shelf thinking I am waking. The echo of the girl’s mother’s growls fade a bit. I sense that she is working on a marionette that I sense is me (first had a similar dream at around age six). Being in the doorway of the “dragon’s” room/cave very briefly I get the impression that Pinocchio is being created in a steel mill in a distant land in the “sizzling fire of the oven”. (Precognition again, my wife’s real father worked in the infamous “Bloodhouse” in Port Kembla.)

My wife’s mother’s maiden name was Miller (more precognition or telepathy in this case).

Finally, I wake into a completely different orientation, location, and position than what I thought I was in. I am somewhat disoriented. But I am happy it is Christmas morning.

This dream confirmed several important elements of my future path in exact detail.

The real, original version of “Pinocchio” is much different than the heavily “watered-down” Disney movie of which I still like. Part of this dream was almost as if to say “Disney represents modern mainstream ‘ignorance is bliss’ (a common consensus play in general - including "Fantasy World and Disney Girls” I mostly heard by the Captain and Tennille); the real Pinocchio story is very cruel and even he is - his feet are even burned off while sleeping at one point.

Synchronicity and other connections:

Hank Snow died on my birthday in 1999 in Madison (Madison is another recurring pattern throughout my life and is a play on Maidstone). However, it was Madison, Tennessee, not Wisconsin. I did not get a Pinocchio book that Christmas, but I did get a View-Master set of the non-Disney story which had the scene of a large snake threatening Pinocchio.

The “Blue Fairy” of the Pinocchio story is intriguingly like my “Blue Pearl” event (which actually resolved into the Blue Fairy in early childhood - the first time being in Christmas of 1969).

Does Hank Snow really look like Pinocchio? No…I do not think so (when awake that is)…