Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 11, 2018. Saturday.

Reading time: 58 sec. Readability score: 67.



I am in an unknown location at about fifty percent lucidity, but with not as much vividness as in similar states.

The ambiguity of my physicality as perceived within the dream state becomes a representation of a moving vehicle. There is a vague association with my father driving the car (probably because I am a father now and am older), but there are several unknown people present.

The car drives by from right to left. A toolbox somehow flies out from the left side of the car, from the back, as if tossed, though it also seems as if it may have somehow slid out with the door being open as they sped off. It is not that big and is a matte gray color. It lands on the gravel. I am puzzled over this event.

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I had been sleeping on my left side. A car is often a representation of the physical body in sleep as a form of vestibular system correlation. (In fact, the human body is even considered a “vehicle.”) The toolbox comes out from the left side, from the back, oriented towards the intent of the sleeping process. The association is with sleep as a healing process, though I am near waking, so the process is “disrupted.” The biology of the body is not under the control of the conscious will, which is what the reactive representation, in this case, is all about, as coming from the back seat.

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Morning of August 11, 2018. Saturday.

Reading time: 50 sec. Readability score: 66.



I am in an unknown bank, though the area is not very defined. I do not discern any walls, only “blank” space beyond.

I am firstly standing in a long queue, but then I decide to sit down. There are many chairs as if arranged to watch a play, facing the teller stations. A lot of other people are present and sitting in chairs.

The area with the tellers also has an unusual alcove to the rightmost of my view. An unknown man goes ahead of the others waiting in line. An unfamiliar woman at the end of the line becomes annoyed. The man goes into the alcove and is no longer visible. I do not know how their system works. I comment on the event to imply that I understand her frustration, but consider my comment is probably annoying to her as well.

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The event is like a typical checkout scenario, which is common in my dreams and is a reactive representation of the waking process (leaving the dream state in an obvious metaphor). The man going into the alcove is a projection of my emerging consciousness, in which I am subliminally planning on going back to sleep after waking, analogically duplicated by me sitting down in a chair to rest.

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Morning of August 11, 2018. Saturday.

Reading time: 22 sec. Readability score: 78.



Our youngest daughter is coloring in a picture on a cell phone, though I see it from my perspective (as if I am using the cell phone). It is a drawing of a Guinea pig that is facing left. (The setting is unknown, though undefined.)

After a short time, a mouse is atop the cell phone, its back feet hitting the keys (touchpad) and rapidly coloring in the picture, while oriented towards the bottom of the cell phone. There is a loud squeak. The mouse seems to have a cheerful human essence.

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Morning of August 11, 2018. Saturday.

Reading time: 1 min 42 sec. Readability score: 59.



I enter a very unusual bathroom wake-up call state (which also includes the reactive representation of vague hunger), which is ambiguous and lacking my conscious self presence in most of the continuity.

Even though I am back in Cubitis in my dream (where I have not lived since 1978), and my father is alive, and of a young appearance (as in the 1950s before I was born), there is a singular thread of awareness of opening our refrigerator in my present home. I open it, and there is a black snake inside. It crawls up to hide in back behind the freezer section.

Later, I go into the Cubitis bathroom. There is a small black snake on the edge of the bathtub closest to the wall. I soon see a bigger black snake near the faucet.

I decide to go and tell my father about this. He is in the room he built (that extended into the carport, though this was my mother’s room in the year before moving to Wisconsin). I tell him that the house is full of snakes (an exaggeration).

At this time, an ambiguous thread of current conscious self identity is present. I am also aware of Zsuzsanna (and her relationship to me) even though I am fourteen in my dream.

I had talked with Zsuzsanna about the snakes possibly being the most venomous ones around (assuming Australia). They are gone when my father looks around. This type of ambiguity and error is common. The black snakes in our yard and house were not harmful when I lived in Florida. My dream self has the distorted perception of being in America and Australia at the same time. Only some dreams have this.

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Distorted temporality is common. The dream self is not the conscious self. Dual identity and emerging consciousness distortion is also a factor. The belief that dreams are related to memory processing or memory consolidation (or even viable content from the unconscious mind) is utterly nonsensical. They are mainly reactive representations in real time, based on subliminal, liminal, or lucid awareness of being in the dream state and maintained by the preconscious in sleep (as dreams evolved out of a need to be aware of environmental factors and biological needs while sleeping).

Although a snake is often a metaphorical representation of the reticular formation as a waking alert factor (as likely in all primates), there are other associations, as with the human intestine (stomach cramps or bowel movements), frayed electrical cords, pins and needles in an arm, or pain in a finger.

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Morning of August 9, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time: 2 min 20 sec. Readability score: 60.



I naturally flow into the state I call apex lucidity. Usually, though, the state has to be reinitiated by creating and going through a door (or window) that is deemed difficult to open or phase through. (I sometimes end up sliding an entire wall like a sliding door before being fully integrated into this extremely vivid state.)

In this case, I effortlessly slide out of the illusion of my dream-rendered physical body into my apex body. From here, I phase through a window onto the ground outside. I look back through the window. The setting is incorrect in several ways, despite the augmented realism. Firstly, it seems to be the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield, where we have not lived in years (and it has not been there in reality for years). Secondly, it was not possible to look through the window from the ground level at that address. Thirdly, rather than the driveway, it seems more like the space north of the Loomis Street house in America. Fourthly, the bed was never oriented this way as in the dream. The bed’s head was always out from the window, never the side. (Since childhood, my dreams render everything incorrectly in as many different ways as possible other than literally prescient threads, which makes me wonder why anyone would bother with “interpretation” in the typical use of the word, especially as dreams are typically reactive representations of the dream state itself.)

Even so, I keep studying the bed where Zsuzsanna and a baby are sleeping. I keep puzzling over the situation because I do not see my real physical body in the bed (which should be to the right of Zsuzsanna and our baby) as I expect to. It makes me uncertain, and I question if I am “still” in my body and ended up falling out the window in reality. (This makes no sense either, as Zsuzsanna would have been blocking me from rolling over and out the window, so that is already the fifth error here.) I am temporarily absentminded and had already forgotten that my original dream body that I supposedly came out of is not my real body either.

Still, I soon gain back my apex state after this brief lapse. Even so, I feel what seems like an invisible cat wrapping around my left leg, impeding my walking out to the public sidewalk. I consider that one of our cats is probably on my leg in reality as I sleep. (Though this was not the case, it was just illusory.) I try to shake it off without waking myself, and I do, curiously, without a hypnopompic kick resulting. I continue walking into an open area that is more like another place we had lived years ago, on Duffy Street. (As I had written in other entries, walking is more challenging and blissful in apex states than flying is in lower states, one reason being that walking is closer to ordinary consciousness in the highest lucid state with a more defined vestibular system correlation that is not as illusory as flying. Therefore, stable walking signifies far more control of RAS mediation than flying does.)

Soon, I shift into the summoning state of lucidity as typically begins every sleep cycle. About six young, unfamiliar servants walk toward me and coalesce into my dream self. Coming out instantly at that point, I decide not to return. I feel energized. Once again, I consider how realistic the state is in physicality and overall fullness of self.

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Morning of August 8, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,860-05. Reading time: 40 sec.



I enter an abstract sequence of thoughts. Silas Weir Mitchell (as on the “Grimm” television series) becomes my preconscious effigy. However, no rendering of a proper dream commences. Instead, I get “stuck” on precursory cycles. (Silas plays a character named Monroe, which is an association of where I lived as a child; North Monroe Street.)

Over time, I am aware of a word or words I do not understand, which seem to be German. It sounds like “Stangunghausen.” My mind keeps cycling back to this term and trying to resolve its meaning. I come up with “stage house” a few times. I perceive it as ambiguously relating to the “Grimm” series and something to do with a computer game or perhaps a board game. At times, I also recognize it as a dream metaphor, a stage being autosymbolism for the dream state itself.

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This ambiguous and abstract cycle seemed to last at least an hour. I fully woke about three times and kept sliding back into it.

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Morning of August 6, 2018. Monday.

Reading time: 1 min 13 sec. Readability score: 76.



My dream begins as a typical bathroom wake-up call dream.

The location is unknown. It seems like the essence of the King Street mansion (boarding house I last saw in 1994), though downstairs. There are others with me who also have to use the bathroom.

After looking at different toilets in the open areas of a large room, I decide to leave the house. My focus is ambiguous. I notice fresh roses in the clear water of the bowl. (That is the opposite of other wake-up calls, where a dream’s bathroom is too dirty to use, unavailable, or oddly distorted, though it still triggers the subliminally emerging realization that one has to wake and answer nature’s call.)

After walking to a bed, an unknown male stands near it.

A “ghost” rushes into his body. I am not a part of the scene and am only vaguely aware of the autosymbolic tie with the emerging consciousness factor.

The mood changes. I have focused again. There is a more vivid awareness.

Now I am leaving the King Street house, walking west along King Street. It seems late at night. Looking back, I see my brother Earl and his wife Cindy (both deceased). They are smiling and standing at the window. (The lights in the house are on.) The window is like that of a large storefront. (That house has no such feature in real life. The porch would be in that location in reality.) Earl had three different wives. His age as related to Cindy’s is incorrect here.

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The scene with the “ghost” jumping into the male near the bed correlates with my shift in consciousness, a type of brief potential reinduction in contrast to a thread of vague conscious self identity reminding me I should get out of bed and not go back into deeper sleep.

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Morning of August 8, 2018. Wednesday.

Reading time: 47 sec. Readability score: 80.



In my dream, there is a backstory related to a new 3D printer we have, which is presently being used to make some Hot Wheels tracks and other toys for our youngest son. My dream’s setting is a slight variation of our current home.

It seems to work well at first. The track emerges like paper from a printer does. A length of a race track is on the bed, as long as the bed (oriented from foot to head), with the 3D printer near the foot of our bed.

Soon, I notice the bottom of the track is messily melting into the blanket and bed sheet. It is like glue. It is also stuck on clothes and other items. I become very annoyed and start to remove it, thinking that the material is too fresh and has not cooled enough yet. Perhaps it is all defective.

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As a boy, I had both a lot of Hot Wheels track as well as Matchbox track with accessories for both. They had a slightly different design and color (yellow in contrast to orange), but I still jammed them all together sometimes for a setup in the large Cubitis living room.

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Morning of August 8, 2018. Wednesday.

Reading time: 1 min 8 sec. Readability score: 72.



In my dream, I am focusing on a computer screen, which has the construction field of a computer game that you can partly design yourself. Mostly, it involves driving a car from an overhead view. The straight road appears vertically on the screen at first. There are not many other features.

There are some options where I can make the road curve. Just driving the virtual car around does not seem much of a challenge. Over time, I have snippets of a dream within a dream to utilize in my original.

In a virtual workspace in the second dream, I want to have a large oval area on the left. In that area, I want it to be ground only, with several ostriches that randomly come out from the wayside onto the road so that I can be challenged to drive through without hitting any of them.

I go back to my main dream to look for “Ostrich” in the context menu of the game to place them in the area I had already cleared. I look through it several times, assuming it is in alphabetical order, but cannot find “Ostrich” and become very annoyed that I cannot make the design I want. Instead, I find “Österreich.” There is a large icon on the right within the context menu itself that features the Mariazell Basilica as on a set of postage stamps I had many years ago. (“Österreich” is the German name for Austria.) That will place a church in the playing field if I select it (by drag and drop), but I wake before I look through other options on the context menu.

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Non-lucid dreams with such extraordinary, surprising cleverness keep me intrigued.

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Morning of August 7, 2018. Tuesday.

Reading time: 1 min 22 sec. Readability score: 73.



In my dream, I am present and seemingly corporeal, going from place to place by walking, yet I do not interact with dream characters or events. A supernatural story unfolds. No fear or concern exists.

The setting is unfamiliar. An unknown residence is near a lake. The events mostly take place at night. There is the typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity in some scenes.

A male vampire had killed his master accidentally. He had mistaken him for someone else and had thrown him in the lake. A female vampire is present at one time, and she is concerned at how he had killed the wrong person. The male walks around, uncertain of what to do. Their original plans to take over human society will never occur.

In the last scene, I am standing close to the male vampire, though he acts as if I am not present. He stands near a table with a plant pot atop it. It seems to contain a Dixie Lace pitcher plant with real blood flowing through the veins.

He is pulling leaves from the plant and seemingly eating them. I hear him munching. However, I start to consider that he does not like the taste and is spitting it out rather than swallowing it. A leaf of the plant is blocking my view of his mouth, so I cannot tell how much he is eating. He may be only pretending. Before waking, I have a vague thought that I am on a movie set and that he is not swallowing the leaves even though the scene implies he is.

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Something or someone being in the water (and the conditions and depth of the water) correlates with the curve of ultradian rhythm and the sleep cycle, though the infradian and circadian rhythm is also a factor at times, cycling from the presence of small ponds to flood dreams and water lowering waking symbolism. The cycle has occurred on a regular basis for over fifty years. The nonthreatening presence of the vampire was from remaining awake in bed longer than usual.

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Morning of August 5, 2018. Sunday.

Reading time: 2 min 36 sec. Readability score: 68.



My dream features several ambiguous transitions, as is often the case. A thread of my dream self identity that links to my current awareness of being with Zsuzsanna is present, but not much else.

The setting is mainly the living room of the Loomis Street house. The couch (near the south window as it was in reality) is not the couch of that time, but like the one from Cubitis when I was a teenager. (This is the one where the back dropped down to make a single bed.) Additionally, despite my lack of viable memory of my current conscious self, it also has the essence of the couch from our current home. Three-way ambiguity is a typical feature of my dreams. This setup does not “mean” anything other than the usual subliminal awareness of being in bed. Dream state indicators of this nature have occurred throughout every sleep cycle all my life.

A thread of potential consciousness initiation emerges. There are several piles of magazines in the storage area in the bottom of the couch. It reflects my desire to become more aware in the dream state (by focusing on printed text), but I remain non-lucid. Zsuzsanna is with me and seems very cheerful. I am somewhat puzzled by how so many magazines could fit under the couch seat, as they seem higher than the top of the storage area by several inches.

My desire for conscious awareness increases but shifts to a different scene. Now I am sitting on a blanket on the floor, still an association with subliminal knowledge of being in bed. An unfamiliar girl is sitting on the floor near me. Later, an unknown male is also present.

I am sorting through various items that had been mixed in with the magazines (even though all the piles were flat). There are many loose screws and metal items. Some seem to be part of handyman kits. I start to gather pieces that go together, thinking that I could sell them. There are some singular hinges, but not all the screws are with them. One screw I try to match with the other is too different. (This all relates to my non-lucid dream self trying to build cohesive conscious self awareness in RAS mediation.) One set of hinges, when open, looks somewhat like the 2009 Chrysler logo. (This is probably this dream’s vestibular system correlation, as it resembles wings as well as having a doorway association.)

Once again, there is a change in awareness. The Loomis Street living room now takes on the typical essence of bilocation. My dream self is indoors and outdoors at the same time. On one level, it is still the Loomis Street living room. On another level, it is in an outdoor rural area near an unfamiliar farm. An interconsciousness avatar is present as a farmer. The farmer’s origin is the Loomis Street house’s northeast bedroom, which is simultaneously an open section of a barn.

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I am looking at a metal uterus, considering it is part of a V8 engine. It is rather light. It has what seems like small multicolored scales over most of its surface. I say how it is “ragged” as I move my fingers over the scales, thinking of it as an analogy to long-term use and becoming rusty. I give it to the farmer to look at, and it seems he may buy it for a V8 tractor. It is still in good condition according to him.

The last part of this dream, in part, comes from our youngest daughter’s T-shirt that features sequins which change color when moving your hand over them. They also feel like small “ragged” rough scales. Another association stems directly from many years ago. A highly intoxicated unknown male had stopped at a rummage sale on Loomis Street and bought one of my father’s hole cutter drill bits even though its surface was mostly rust-covered.

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Morning of August 4, 2018. Saturday.

Dream #: 18,856-02. Reading tim: 1 min 40 sec.



I am watching television with Zsuzsanna. It may be our present address on W Street, though the focus is mainly only on the imagery on the television screen, which at times seems very close and three-dimensional, though not as if I am at the locations as in other dreams.

It is a reality show about conveyor belts in different locations. The whole show mostly features items and people moving on conveyor belts.

A baby is lying on a moving conveyor belt at one point. They are moving from right to left in all the scenes.

At one point, the sawed-in-half woman from “Beetlejuice” (from 1988) is on the conveyor belt, except that it is Winona Ryder in the role. Her upper half is smoking a cigarette. Although the scene is strange, my dream self perceives it as “real.”

As threads of my conscious self identity become more viable in the waking process, I see two doll-sized men sitting on the conveyor belt. That seems wrong to me, as I know that all the previous scenes were “real.” I am considering telling Zsuzsanna that this is a fake event. I can see two unfamiliar normal-sized people in the background, with the miniature men in the foreground.

As I think of talking about the fake part of the show, which seems to be the last segment of the episode, one of the tiny men relates that it is a test, implying effects and camera operation. (I had first thought it was an attempt to fool the audience.)

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My dream self perceived the living sawed-in-half woman as real, without question (even though the movie reference itself is erroneous as Winona Ryder was in a different role), yet when the small men appeared after this, I knew it was special effects. That is often how the reactive representation of the waking process works, as I move closer to full consciousness and viable thinking skills. The same transition exists in thousands of previous dreams. It has nothing to do with “interpretation” (an idea shared by people who do not understand what the dream state is) but is a factor of the waking process itself, which anyone of reasonable intelligence would understand. It is similar to associations with liminal space where the waking process renders itself as features such as a jigsaw puzzle, detective, or an attempt to read something for cognitive arousal. It is in contrast to when RAS modulation uses conflict or unrealistic events to create the distinction and emotional reaction that triggers waking.

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Morning of August 3, 2018. Friday.

Reading time: 53 sec. Readability score: 59.



For my dream induction (deliberate entry), I decided to be in a stagecoach in primarily an afternoon setting. It is a relaxed and passive dream self incarnation. The sense of movement is very realistic at this stage of vestibular system correlation (a factor of all dreams at this level of consciousness, though typically related to flight). At times, ambiguity enters the sequence, and it almost seems like I am riding in a fast-moving car, including the external ambiance. I maintain the stagecoach setting as Zsuzsanna and our second-youngest son are seated across from me.

I see dinosaurs through the window off to my left, including a triceratops, and cannot determine if the stagecoach is traveling through time or an animatronics display in what might be a ghost town (modeled after the “Gunsmoke” set). It seems “safer” to make it an animatronics display, though not as adventurous.

I see an orange Volkswagen Beetle parked under low-set branches as if left there long ago. I think of it as “my” old car, but it is a false memory in part. In reality, I only had a big remote control model of one when I was a boy (that my father gave me for Christmas). It ran on real fuel. I mostly made it go in a circle in our big front yard in Cubitis.

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Morning of August 3, 2018. Friday.

Reading time: 2 min 37 sec. Readability score: 75.



I find myself in a big, unfamiliar library that is part of a school building. It is seemingly the end of a school day. A female is present. She may be a teacher. It seems that most people have left. I am asked to clean up, as no one else is going to. I go through the aisles to pick up blankets and bed sheets (without questioning why these items would be “left behind” in a library). I also find a few towels. There are also several pairs of gloves, one pair that I believe is mine, so I put them on. There is also a winter jacket. From here, I decide that I will fly to the north side of La Crosse.

I am soon at the Loomis Street house. My brother-in-law Bob seems happy. He appears as he did in the 1980s. A boy is present that is theirs. I falsely remember that they had a child of about eight years old. Bob tells me that another boy was born recently. I ask him whose child this is, as my older sister Marilyn had died. It turns out that she was brought back to life by a business that offers this service. She comes into the house and seems as she was in the 1960s.

The house now seems like an ambiguous mix of the Loomis Street house (in America) and the Gellibrand Street apartment in Australia. A bed is in a similar orientation as it was in the Gellibrand Street place, where we lived when our oldest son was a baby.

Marilyn seems happy. The baby is on the bed and has a strange appearance, a big head, and a thin, wiry body. It is only a few days old. It is speaking coherently with a curious metallic echoing. The words are soft. I do not recall what he said.

I ask about Cindy, my brother Earl’s wife. She was brought back as well. Bob says that she has “a hundred years left (to live).” Curiously, I have no memory of Earl (who had also died in real life).

Later, Marilyn and I are talking about all the puzzle books she had given me, mostly from the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, the majority of them Dell. (This was a real-life event.) They were in a big cardboard box. We talk cheerfully about difficult cryptic crossword puzzles. The harder ones are left for me to solve.

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My dream self recalls that Marilyn had died, but also with the false memory she had one child that would now be about eight (though she would be far too old for this to be true). I remember my sister-in-law, but not my brother. I do not recall my current life status, yet the Loomis Street house (America) mixes with where Zsuzsanna and I lived years ago, which means a part of my conscious self identity is subliminally present. Dreams are a fascinating comedy of errors sometimes.

The last part (waking process rather than dream revivification) is from a trigger I developed in childhood, to make a dream more vivid and coherent by giving myself reading tasks or focusing on books or writing (though I also used coins for this), though now I mostly use computer associations. (An odd result of that is how computer technology is often on notebook paper in my dreams.) The association with solving puzzles also directly relates to the middle of the waking process, between the fictitious dream self and emerging consciousness identity.

The library trigger “failed,” but still displayed dream state indicators (bed sheets and blankets in the aisles), though the usual vestibular system correlation (flying in this case) was present. I put on gloves to mask my conscious self identity and physicality. It shows that I was in non-lucid control of my dream (as is most often the case) but with odd results and the usual dream state amnesia when non-lucid.

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Morning of August 2, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time: 1 min 55 sec. Readability score: 75.



In the first part of my dream, offset from water induction (which begins each sleep cycle, based on sleeping in the waters of the womb), there is a situation where I may be a witness relating to someone throwing someone into the ocean. An unknown female is sitting in the first row of seats in an unknown location. I am trying to remember if I had thrown the person in, perhaps drowning him, and if so, whether I should leave. (Of course, this is the liminal thread from my conscious self entering the “water” of sleep and my dream self’s thoughts distorting, losing such threads.)

I find myself looking into what seems to be a terrarium with holographic content. A spider is at the bottom and appears to be real rather than a hologram. I marvel at the three-dimension patterns in the higher area. Somehow, the spider gets out, but I do not see it after this. There is a plastic lid at the top that does not seem to fit correctly. An unknown female cheerfully tells me that they had found the spider.

From here, I have to buy groceries for someone, apparently including a can or more of soda for the actor Richard Dean Anderson, who appears to be about twenty-five years old. Instead of walking with two unknown males who are going one direction to do this favor for him, I follow Richard Dean Anderson, who is walking in the opposite direction from them. He is wearing a loose-fitting moss-colored uniform. An unfamiliar man is walking ahead of him. It seems to be late at night.

The area remains unfamiliar. I tell Richard I will get him the drink, even though he is also going to the store. Going into the store, I have to squeeze past a few different people in a narrow hall at the front. One boy has to back up. I yell a few times when people will not move.

The situation changes. Now I am looking at videos high on the wall. One features a man with a nose that makes him look somewhat like a tapir. Looking around, I see other men with odd noses.

An unknown man at a picnic table appears to have a big dent down the middle of his nose so that it almost looks as if he has two, side by side. I start talking to him about synapses and how a synapse controls nose shapes. His nose changes several times as he is talking to me, and appears to be normal at one point. I consider that I may not be seeing him correctly, as he seems unaware of the changes.

Still, he does not understand what I am saying. He seems to think that brains do not do anything. I have to explain to him that they are the most important thing, as they determine everything.

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