Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 6, 2017. Friday.



Something has happened to my physical form, but possibly only as I am “sleeping”.

I think of myself as a paragraph of writing, in the form of a hazy cloud of about four feet long, hovering a few inches above our bed. Being a paragraph incarnate makes me feel somewhat vulnerable. I am aware of Zsuzsanna sleeping om my left, but my viewpoint is curiously from somewhere in the center of our bed at times.

Other than being only a hazy cluster of “words” hovering a short distance above our bed, there is a perception of having an additional “shell” at times, or some sort of armor, but which comes and goes. There is no viable perception of having a physical body. I vaguely remember an affirmation (“I am of the healing powers of Universal Mind”) but I do not fully grasp or sustain it.

I turn in my “sleep”. It is like a twisting that “rolls” from “head” to “foot” when I do. It occurs about four times. I am aware that having transformed into the form of a paragraph relates to my illness (food poisoning). I only feel slightly ill in the dream state.

Before I am fully awake, I start to realize aspects of this abstract dream’s source. It is quite old and it has been years since this memory was more present. Years ago, in an animated version (shown on television a few times) of “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court”, there was a scene where a boy informed the main character that he was a page. The Connecticut Yankee responded by saying something like “A page? You’re no more than a paragraph.” Additionally, having the “armor” around my cloudy form relates to the (King Arthur) knight association with the story. The perceived “suit of armor” is obviously a biological symbol of wishing to be protected from the norovirus. The rest, including “being a paragraph”, is incidental to this association with the Mark Twain story, which I had not thought about for a long time.

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Since early childhood, my non-lucid dreams, other than prescient or precognitive threads, have often resolved themselves in meaning in a form of light hypnopompic thinking (as well as reveal source patterns that created my dream in the first place), which is often carried directly into conscious afterthought (although this process is occasionally “replaced” by a false awakening where I am writing down my dream or talking about it with someone else). In a way, this has always been like having two dreams in succession, the original dream (often surreal or at least unusual and illogical) and the decoding of its meaning while waking or in a different (much lighter) level of unconsciousness. (It was not until I was about seventeen years old that I started to come to terms with the fact that most people were apparently not like this.)

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Morning of October 4, 2017. Wednesday.



A task is given to me but the backstory is unclear. I find myself with two cans of paint and I believe I am supposed to paint two chests of drawers, one bigger than the other. I am painting (or apparently had been painting) in a sloppy way. There is a large uneven horizontal streak of orange paint at the bottom of the front with the drawers apparently being a bluish color. I notice that I had accidentally combined the two colors (dark orange and a darker yellow) into the container and I try to think of a way to separate the colors (which of course is not logical). However, I end up stirring the colors together even more, and as I do this, several other colors are seen in the mix. It then seems to be more of a dark blue and green color (which is illogical, as orange and yellow certainly do not produce any shade of blue or green). I think that maybe I will just use the one color, though the person who owns these apparent antiques might be dissatisfied. At one point, one chest of drawers has an uneven coat of an ugly dull blue color. I am annoyed, as both of my paint brushes are sticky and thick with paint, making them difficult to use competently.

I think about this situation as being of the wrong thing to do, as I consider that the furniture looks much better in its natural wood grain. It turns out I am right. The male who had given me the work to do did not want the chests of drawers painted. I do not talk to him directly, but I see him from a distance. He reminds me somewhat of the teacher I had for wood shop classes at WWTI, but also a little of the owner of the pawnshop in the same city (La Crosse). It is a different (unfamiliar) male of about twenty who tells me the other male did not want them painted, but varnished.

There is an unusual change in the situation without much thought about what had happened. Now it seems that I had not painted the chests of drawers at all, though this is actually a reset of my dream.

An unknown female (of about forty) is showing some people some furniture, mainly chests of drawers (all of them of a natural wood grain) in a sequence of about eight or so in an unknown location. I start to point out how great one of them looks. It is fancy. It has brass handles on all the drawers and narrower scroll work all around. (It does not look like any furniture I had seen in real life, at least not recently.) Two of them, including the fancy one on the right end of the series, are apparently the ones I had originally been painting but I do not consider how I reset my dream due to being annoyed. The other one I had been painting is about the fourth left of the fancy one.

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The tendency to reset or “start my dream over” when I am dissatisfied with how it is going is of a curious type of non-lucid dream control that I have experienced naturally since early childhood.

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Morning of October 1, 2017. Sunday.

Dream #: 18,549-02. Reading time: 40 sec.



Post-induction: I am with my wife Zsuzsanna and our children as we appear now. We are seemingly at the local showgrounds at nighttime. (This scene stems from residual memory of the enjoyable time we had there in real life.)

Vestibular stage: Zsuzsanna takes our youngest daughter up a ladder to a minimal structure where a person is to jump off an I-beam from at least thirty feet up. I soon see the view from overhead even though I had not yet climbed the ladder, yet I do not seem incorporeal.

The drop: I am wary as I do not want Zsuzsanna or our daughter injured. However, after they jump, a safety net appears, and they cheerfully land on it.

Sustaining vestibular modulation: I decide to try it, but I start to realize as I am climbing the metal ladder that I am liminally trying to enhance my imaginary physicality. Before I get to the I-beam (though I was already on it in the first scene), I wake, feeling amused.

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Morning of October 1, 1982. Friday.



While in the northeast bedroom of the Loomis Street house, I am vaguely aware of the presence of duck hunters. Through the window, I see that the front yard is marshy. The streets are lightly flooded, which seems normal to my dream self, and related to the seasons.

Although there had been no perceived presence of the duck hunters being in the house at any point, there are a number of duck decoys sitting about in the house which they had still somehow apparently set up. I find this annoying and intrusive. I gather a few and place them outside, though remain wary of being shot at if I move a certain way. Curiously though, I soon do not feel that much in danger. I notice there is now less water on the streets (very common waking symbolism). The duck hunters actually seem to be gone. (The hunters in this case are this dream’s preconscious element. There is no “threat” as the waking transition has already activated via RAS.)

While trying to go back to sleep, I falsely recall that one of the wooden duck decoys was mine, having had it since very young, and being fond of it and frustrated about now possibly losing it. I am puzzled by the situation until I wake. (This is likely based on my feelings of nostalgia for the 1960s plastic model kit “The Visible Pigeon”, although I also had a duck decoy catalog as a teenager as I enjoyed collecting mail-order catalogs at that time.)

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This is typified as “failed flight waking symbolism”, a very common waking transition dream component (a perfectly natural unconscious transmutation of the biological falling start, which has nothing to do with waking life or the conscious self as some extremely unintelligent people pretend), not meant to be in a negative context but as a result of a natural transition from sleeping to waking and the temporary puzzlement of being in liminal space and not being fully aware of one’s physical body while semi-conscious. My hypnopompic waking “jolt” is subdued here, which is directly related to the fake ducks, which are neither real nor can fly away (similar to any dream where a person otherwise falls, or an airplane crashes, a meteor is seen, or many other generic analogies to returning to wakeful consciousness, including climbing or using a staircase or a “flight” of stairs). Flight symbols in dreams are typically linked to real-time inner ear dynamics (loosely related to dizziness or falling sensations when awake) and RAS (reticular activating system) in subliminal anticipation of leaving the dream state. Flight symbols as such have occurred in at least one dream per sleeping period for over fifty years, which automatically renders “interpretation” (in the common superstitious usage of the term) as an invalid concept, not however, discounting literal prescience, literal practice events, or literal willful scripting of a dream (including viable healing affirmations).

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Night of September 30, 2017. Saturday.



I am sitting on our couch in the darkness in our lounge room in our present home. I am on the right side of our couch facing the north end of our lounge room.

I feel very peaceful and in a state of well-being and bliss. I soon become aware that our oldest son has come out of his room (from our lounge room’s access door on the west of his room). He has a pale yellow cell phone with a flashlight beam coming out of the top edge of it (not an item he has in real life). He moves it around, mainly in a horizontal semicircle from his right to his left, as if searching for something or someone, apparently me. He seems very cheerful though about five years younger than he presently is (though my dream self does not consider this distortion as such). I quickly wake as a result of RAS (reticular activating system, which is what biologically controls the dream state dynamics and inherent waking symbolism), still feeling very peaceful, calm, and happy.

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I had this longer microdream while actually sitting on our couch (same position and orientation as my dream) after the power had been out this evening for over an hour (the result of a regional blackout). I was so relaxed sitting in the darkness that I slipped into a microdream within a few minutes upon sitting down on our couch (which usually only happens as I am watching television). Our son carrying the flashlight “looking for me” was simply the biological RAS activation (otherwise typified as “searchlight waking symbolism” of the passive and positive kind). The emergent consciousness factor was quite brief and the preconscious dynamic was non-aggressive as this was not a dream of a longer sleeping period. (In actuality, our youngest son had used a flashlight but not on me during the period of my dream.) The cell phone feature is present due to RAS mediating consciousness (as a type of communication with the transient fictional dream self).

The strictly biological RAS “searchlight effect” has occurred in hundreds of dreams since early childhood, including in documented dreams online such as “Steering Clear of a Laser Tracking Weapon” from 2013, “Spacecraft in the Alley” from 1997, “Not Exactly the Three Musketeers” from 1988, “Laser-Eyed Alligator” from 1979, “The Beam” from 1977, and a number of other dreams.

For the majority of people who have no understanding of dreams, it may be important to address why this biological RAS activation is different in this case from other dreams that utilize the same basic waking symbolism (the dawning consciousness metaphor), for example, how does this dream differ from “Laser-Eyed Alligator” or other dreams of the same type?

The most obvious difference here is, I expected and wanted the power to come back on. In “Laser-Eyed Alligator” and “Steering Clear of a Laser Tracking Weapon”, my dream self, at a subliminal level, did not want to wake yet. This is what RAS and the transpersonal preconscious are for. It is not rocket science unless one is superstitious and clueless.

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On a side note, I talked with my lovely wife Zsuzsanna tonight about a possibility of perhaps editing and resupplementing all 4,000 or so of my dream journal entries presently on the Internet to make them more “idiot-proof”. Alas, this seems next to impossible. No matter how much clarity and accuracy I include in some of my entries, based on over fifty years of experience, there are people who do not get dreams at all (or of whom are of the unfortunate mentality to believe in “dream interpretation” in the various superstitious or pseudo-psychological ways the term is misused). There always seems to be one person (usually a male with obvious personal issues) who somehow feels the need to contradict the obvious or add to my post in various ways. I am stating that here just in case such a comment appears on an entry.

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Morning of September 29, 2017. Friday.



My dream self decides to rob a bank. My conscious self is partially extant in having memory of my marriage and family, though I also seem much younger physically and mentally, by several years before I was married.

I go into a bank. I have a revolver, but I never use it. I calmly sit down at a desk where an unfamiliar female is working. I give her a note that tells her to give me all the money. She calmly seems to begin to get some together and does not seem frightened.

At one point, the bank manager, an unfamiliar male, walks into the room from my left. He stands for a short time watching us but does not seem to suspect anything.

Eventually, the female hands me a large envelope. I take it and leave. I decide to become invisible, though I also phase through the wall of the bank in case there is security at the entrance. I fly around for several minutes, still maintaining invisibility. (This of course is non-lucid dream control. My subconscious self does not know I am dreaming, but a subliminal thread of my conscious self does.)

I end up at Marilyn’s house (Marilyn is an older half-sister on my mother’s side), except that I do not recall that she had died and she appears as she did in the 1980s. It is also not her house (as in America) as in real life but a variation of the Barolin Street house in Australia where Zsuzsanna and I and our family last lived. There also seem to be some elements of Evelyn’s house of which I last visited in real life at age five.

I think I see a police car stop in front of the house, though the top of the car soon seems to have some sort of metal part like a luggage rack rather than a police car’s strobe light device. At least five men, all of whom look exactly alike and are wearing some sort of yellowish-brown uniform, come into the house. I decide to hide in the basement via the trapdoor in the bathroom (though the Barolin Street house did not have a basement, this feature based on the Loomis Street house) but I soon change my mind when I see they are just visiting my relatives.

I open the large packet that I was given at the bank. I first seem to see colorful foreign money, but then I realize there is no money in the packet. There are a few documents. There are a few pieces of paper with poetry about family. There are also a number of small transparent packets of herbs which she apparently thought would benefit me. One of the packets apparently contains alfalfa, yet it actually says “alpaca” on the label. I puzzle over this until my dream fades.

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Morning of September 28, 2017. Thursday.



I am in a state of semi-lucidity, slowly becoming aware that our bedroom is transmuting into the northeast bedroom of the Loomis Street house (a place I have not been in real life for over twenty years and unlikely to ever be again). I eventually focus upon the essence of sleep, which in the dream state, is symbolized by water and recognized as such (and has been for over fifty years on a day to day basis). Water begins to flow down Loomis Street from the north. It is a flood, but not a threatening flood. I feel very relaxed and peaceful. I vividly feel small splashes of water reaching me through the window screen, which vivifies my level of dream state awareness.

There is some sort of unusual ambiguous imagery just outside the window. It relates to a child in pajamas holding a teddy bear, but is viewed through the screen as an undersized silhouette. Conscious self identity threads are lessened and I am no longer lucid in any way regardless of the increase in vividness. I have no major concern about flood waters flowing into the house, only that some of my dream journals might become damp.

I wander off to the west bedroom where my mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is sitting on her bed. In this dream, at this point, I have no memory at all of my older sister Marilyn (April 25, 1942-Februay 13, 2014) whose house it mainly was.

“Someone left the floodgates open,” I tell my mother somewhat absentmindedly (forgetting that it was me who initiated and released this dream’s content and continuity with deliberate water induction and the original focus on release and blissful relaxation). Although it seemed late at night seconds previously, it now seems to be afternoon as I notice daylight through the window of her room. However, the area beyond the backyard and alley is completely different than in reality as there is no shed visible and no residential homes. All that is visible are some commercial buildings in the distance, about two blocks away.

My mother makes some sort of comment about access to the store being blocked by flood waters, and there is some sort of vague association with the checkout of a store (a common end marker of the dream state for me). Upon having this semi-lucid thought, and remembering more about my present conscious self and the fact that I am married and have children, I slowly fade from the dream state with soft (semi-lucid) intent and a very soft awakening.

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Water, including non-threatening floods as a dream state induction factor, has occurred continuously all my life, long before virtually endless meditation and relaxation recordings utilized the sound of water to bring about relaxation or sleep. I will hear or otherwise perceive water as soon as I enter into a more relaxed state with less emotions present. Water as the primary symbol for sleep (and sleep dynamics in real time) is also analogous to how people spend the first months of their existence sleeping in the waters of the womb. As a result, it is probably my most common dream foundation marker.

My mother has, in more recent dreams, become more of a dream state end marker loosely associated with my wife Zsuzsanna than more direct associations with her as in the past. This is evidenced by her mainly appearing in the last scene of a dream where she is sitting on her bed (residual recall of having fallen asleep). Although Zsuzsanna appears in many of my dreams (where more of my present conscious self identity remains at least partially intact), the association with her also being a mother has, over time, altered dream state markers in some cases. However, despite Zsuzsanna having been a mother for a number of years, this symbolic transfer and marker integration is fairly recent (probably because she is now nearer my mother’s age when I was born). Being more of an emergent consciousness precursor than a preconscious factor, there is no conflict in such dreams, especially in already subliminally acknowledging this waking mechanism. (My mother was the one who usually woke me up throughout my childhood.)

Both watching the non-threatening flood waters flow and the silhouette of the boy in pajamas with the teddy bear represent the same thing…sleep, so this is a type of parallel symbolism that my dreams often render. (Someone being in pajamas was far less of an initiation factor even in early childhood, even being a fan of “Little Nemo”, though other dream state indicators such as beds and pillows are quite common.)

Even though a shadow of a person or a silhouette represents the lesser presence of my conscious self identity, it is slightly puzzling here as viewed through a window screen. This is because focus on a window screen has been validated to relate to some form of transpersonal communication or shared dreaming. Ordinarily, at least in lucid dreams, I sometimes indulge in “shadow play”; that is, I “test” the shadow to verify that it is actually my conscious self identity and it always is, even in a dream where it was very far away and standing on a bridge.

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Morning of September 26, 2017. Tuesday.



Dream Series: The Experience of Prescience, the Inexplicable Dream State Phenomenon. Part 1

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My wife Zsuzsanna and our children (mostly as we appear now in reality) are living in a house that is similar to our present home (and implied to be our present home), though it has a fictional second storey.

Over time, I become aware that the sun is too hot. I mostly become aware of this upon going to the second floor with Zsuzsanna, which is mostly featureless and resembles the second floor of the Loomis Street house when the apartment was empty, as there is a singular window on one side of the large room and a ceiling sloped on both sides. (I have not been in this house in real life since 1994.) I feel intense heat and so I realize that we need to go back downstairs. I assume that the world is ending, but I do not feel very emotional about it. I tell our youngest son that the world will be burned up soon. Still, I want all of our family together for “the end”.

In the last segment of my dream, we all go into our oldest son’s room. Zsuzsanna and most of our children are present in the room. Our oldest son is seemingly not present at this time and I become concerned about his well-being. Eventually, Zsuzsanna and our youngest son slide out a cardboard storage box from under our oldest son’s bed (in the same location as it is in reality). (The large cardboard box has similar colors and sparse imagery as that otherwise found on a pizza box.) Our oldest son is sleeping in it. I am relieved, though I still have concern about his health and hope he will wake soon.

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Friday, 30 March 2018: What I presently understand about this dream, based on the following real-life event: From exactly one week after this dream, in real life, our oldest son had to spend four days in the hospital from severe food poisoning where I then held the same mood that my dream self had.

Despite The Sleeper factor (as well as the rendering of the bed) otherwise being a common dream state indicator since early childhood, signifying the subliminal recognition of being asleep, it was specifically linked to very detailed prescience in this case. Our oldest son being in a cardboard storage box under his bed seems to be a subliminal association with both a pizza box and a coffin, and as such, could have been a very specific warning had I paid more attention.

Additionally, on November 7, our oldest son’s room is where my family gathered for protection from the storm, though this proved to be futile, as the roof had been torn off and rain poured through the ceiling, though of course it was not the literal end of the world.

Dreams in which there is “something wrong with the sun” have been very common since early childhood. The usual cause of this is based on the conscious self identity not being viable within the dream state, as the sun symbolizes the conscious self identity in the context of clarity of awareness and with viable thinking skills (which do not otherwise exist in the dream state). Some people might catch the play on “something wrong with the sun” regarding our son, as he did have a fever in his severe illness. This specific association could be coincidence, but since the validated-as-premonitory thread “something wrong with my son” could very well be the autosymbolic trigger in this case, it might not be coincidental.

It may also be relevant that the Loomis Street second-floor window is to the east in reality, and this is where our oldest son sleeps in orientation to where Zsuzsanna and I sleep, as a window has been validated long ago to signify unconscious communication with someone else in some cases.

The fictional second floor implied to be of our present home is possibly a transpersonal factor (interconsciousness) related to a certain band of liminal space (though is otherwise only an emergent consciousness factor). Dreams that are dominantly prescient also typically lack the usual RAS mediation found in other dream types.

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Morning of September 25, 2017. Monday.



In my dream, I find myself with a personified version of the preconscious that I created in the 1980s. Although this form is active every now and then, like most forms of the preconscious, there is typically no connection to waking life or the pretense of “interpretation”.

This male in my dream as the role of the RAS (reticular activating system), which is what biologically controls the waking transition and its symbolism between consciousness and unconsciousness, is of the “Hierarchy”, a term I created in the 1980s for the nature of the dream state and its various core components and real-time symbolism including circadian rhythms symbolism. Its inherent waking symbolism is of a necessarily biological authority, unrelated to waking life. (Dream symbolism is more about the nature of being unconscious than being awake, kind of a no-brainer really, yet most of society presently completely ignores this truth.)

Alex (Alexander; chosen because it means “defender of men” or “protector of mankind”, a good analogy for RAS) and I are in an unknown building. It may be a library, as shelves and dividing walls that do not reach the ceiling are present. There is an unfamiliar elderly woman present. Though I am never lucid (or even subliminally lucid), we are here to research the nature of the Hierarchy, and the woman mentions some sort of ancient document, which supposedly relates to this organization that secretly rules and protects mankind.

At one point, Alex and the woman are on the other side of a shelf that is almost up to the ceiling. I can hear him confirm that the document is genuine. Wondering what my role in all this is, I decide to climb up to the top of the shelf.

I look through a few boxes on the top shelf. I look down and see an unusual anthropomorphic crescent moon cookie cutter, though it is vertically oriented rather than of a logical cookie cutter design. It has the essence of an ancient artifact and I find it interesting. I ask Alex if I can have this and use it in my work.

He informally tells me that there are “no cookie cutters” in the Hierarchy, more so referring to the prospective role of being a cookie cutter in the Hierarchy.

Later, I am with my older brother Dennis (who still lives in America and last seen in real life in 1994). I tell him about the Hierarchy and about Alex. I say that Alex has “limitless diamonds” and owns whatever he wants.

The moon represents the circadian rhythms factor of dreaming (as night is typically associated with the dream self while daylight and the sun represent the dynamics of conscious self identity). Its being a cookie cutter signifies the nature of lucid dreaming under conscious self identity creation. The fact that there are apparently “no cookie cutters” in the Hierarchy translates as RAS being of a biological factor and that one should not have full conscious control of circadian rhythms cycles, which could damage the physical body. This does not limit or suspend any potential for apex lucidity of course, which mostly occurs in the morning anyway within my last dream. The cookie cutter’s position on the shelf is more about the dynamic of this part of the sleeping and dreaming cycle, the moon’s crescent form signifying my percentage of unconscious awareness and percentage of vividness of the dream state (for example, a full moon would indicate full awareness while in the dream state). Liminal space dividers in the dream state are symbolized in real time by walls, fences, or high shelves. My act of climbing the shelf is symbolic of my dream self (subliminally) seeking more understanding of RAS and the preconscious.

My comment to Dennis about the diamonds relates that the preconscious and RAS are of the main biological power behind sleeping and waking transitions. Being within a large diamond is one of the Mastership meditations that in part represents clarity of thought even when unconscious (though again, I do not have viable lucidity in this dream).

This dream is mainly the result of a new variant of affirmation-based dream preparation. Instead of using “after” and doing the count after a particular affirmation, I have changed this to “anytime after” for a number of reasons. For example, “anytime after” is far more powerful than “after”, as “after” would otherwise denote “immediately after” or “soon after” while “anytime after” would be far more likely to integrate into the continuity of a later dream, either literally or symbolically depending on the desired outcome.

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Morning of September 22, 2017. Friday.



In my dream, we are living in a distorted version of the Loomis Street house (where I have not been since February of 1994 and where Zsuzsanna and our children had never been). However, I have no recall that it was actually my sister Marilyn and her husband (of whom I have no thoughts of at all in my dream) whose house it mainly was.

In the first part of my dream, I am watching a nautilus on top of the kitchen counter. Rather than this part of the kitchen counter being in the actual kitchen along the west wall, it is along the west wall of the dining room left of the west doorway. I had been sitting at the dining room table. Although the nautilus is otherwise a water denizen (and probably a feature of the very common water induction as dream state initiation), it moves along the counter, seemingly healthy, seemingly breathing the air. I feed it some pieces of cereal and watch it eat. It faces to the left in profile.

Over time, I realize that the nautilus was part of an aquarium based on Lego block creations. There are an unrealistic number of boxes of Lego kits throughout the living room and dining room. The aquarium with the Lego features in it belongs to our youngest son. In the later scene, after the nautilus had been in the aquarium for several minutes, I notice that it may be dying, as it spews blood and is also bleeding from underneath its shell. I learn that our son had paid $80.00 for the “kit”. However, it does not make much sense as I also learn that the people who sold it want it back - yet $230.00 must be paid for them to have it again (which of course makes no sense at all). However, because the nautilus will soon be dead, the scenario is problematic. I am very annoyed. I am not sure what we will do. The creature is still breathing, but I do not think it will live.

I become distracted when I notice three men lying on the ground just outside the south area of the house, sleeping. It seems to be late morning. I see them through the bay window. They are parallel to each other but are sleeping in informal clothes. Soon, one wakes and phases through the wall. This makes me annoyed and I jab my Olympic barbell (no weights) into his neck and hold him down on the floor with it. He is standing at one point, but I punch him. He becomes a sheet of notebook paper, which I tear into several pieces.

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This dream, as is usually the case with at least one dream per day, was partly based on something my wife Zsuzsanna had seen that I could not have known about. She had seen a movie yesterday morning (with some of our children) that had Lego in it, and a Lego aquarium as with my dream (and at the beginning of that movie). No one ever mentioned anything about this prior to my dream. This sort of event has been validated to have happened long before I even met Zsuzsanna (when she also appeared in my dreams as my “mystery girl” with the exact appearance and unlikely mixed accent of Romani Hungarian and Australian, as well as actual Persian associations as with some dreams).

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Morning of September 22, 2017. Friday.

Dream #: 18,540-03. Reading time: 1 min 42 sec.



In the morning, I am near a store’s checkout like Woolworths (where we shop in real life). Zsuzsanna is nearby. There are unknown people present. A man who looks like Javier Bardem (my dream’s preconscious simulacrum) is by one of the aisles adjacent to the left end of the store (when inside). Zsuzsanna and I are openly intimate (mainly because of associations with the store being our present home).

An unfamiliar girl is present who I am unsure is Javier’s wife or not. Somebody is talking about Christmas music. I sing loudly and sarcastically, a line from “Oh Holy Night,” which is “Fall on your knees.” (I had read about the song “Lola” by The Kinks yesterday, which has the suggestive line, “I got down on my knees.”) The girl obeys me and sits on the floor on her knees. I eventually consider it is time to leave, yet it is also like the bedroom of our present home, though still Woolworths, despite the blankets on the floor. I do not reflect upon this impossibility.

Javier is packing something into a bag. (I loosely associate it with the sack Santa Claus carries.) It is sitting to the right of the last checkout. I absentmindedly put an unplugged alarm clock into it. I see what I think is a pair of blue jeans of mine and take them out. (I am unsure if I am wearing pants, but that does not concern me.) Javier looks at me, annoyingly. I consider the pants are his, but the clock is mine.

“What are you doing?” he says with irritation. “It’s time to leave the dream state. Plug that thing back in.” I put the pants back in the bag, but I soon wake while retrieving and holding the alarm clock.

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A store’s checkout correlates with the anticipation of the end of the dream. The alarm clock also represents that. The unworn pants stem from my subliminal awareness I am undressed while sleeping.

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It is crucial to add an update that the religious mood and theme and sense of obeying someone as regarding the movie “Mother!” (originally released a week or so before my dream, but which I had not seen or heard of until about two years later), and starring Javier Bardem as God (or “Him”), seems to have been an inexplicable enigmatic influence for part of my dream’s content. As the movie already existed, it is not pure precognition other than from my viewpoint. Zsuzsanna and I consider it one of the most pointless, wretched, and disturbing movies ever commercially released.

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Morning of September 20, 2017. Wednesday.



This dream is vivid from start to finish even though I deliberately change my identity twice (by way of non-lucid dream control). Instead of my most common form of dream state initiation (water, which symbolizes the real-time dynamics of sleep), it begins with another very common dream state indicator, that is, “still” being in bed. (The difference of course relates to sleeping in the waters of the womb in the first months of life in contrast to sleeping in bed, though the dream state initiation form may be incidental.) My dream self’s memory is mostly limited to not much beyond the age of twenty.

The bed turns out to be in a new version of the Loomis Street house. It is in the living room. There is much more space on the north side of the room than there was in reality and there is also a vague association with our Gellibrand Street apartment of years ago (though I do not reflect upon this while in my dream). The bed is in the northeast corner of the room, aligned to the north wall. I am on the left side (which is atypical as I have mostly been on the right side in recent years when sleeping with Zsuzsanna, though this is probably related to subliminal reinduction). My brother-in-law Bob had been sleeping on the right side. My sister Marilyn is alive and as she was in the late 1970s (with no memory of her having died in 2014). She has not yet decided to go to sleep. I am seemingly aware my mother had recently died (though she died in 2002).

Anita comes in through the front door and asks Marilyn if she had been in the bed sleeping, mentioning “all five people” in the bed (even though I had only been aware of Bob being in the bed). I turn more to my left, very close to the edge of the bed. It seems that Anita had picked up and kept an American quarter that had fallen out of my shirt pocket. More coins fall onto the floor from my left shirt pocket, including at least three American quarters and a few nickels and dimes, but these I retrieve and put in my right pants pocket (as I am apparently wearing blue jeans in bed).

I then get up and start practicing telekinesis by willing objects to fly into my right hand, mostly cups, empty soda cans, and dishes. “Did you see that?” I keep asking Anita and Marilyn. There is no surprise from them.

I go outside and it seems to be late morning (even though it had been nighttime seconds before). I fly about six feet above the ground but mostly hover and loudly screech. The unfamiliar neighbor to the south has a few children playing in his yard. I decide to go over, via the alley, and apologize for my behavior, as it may have frightened them. I explain to the man that I am “Carrie’s brother”. For a short time, I puzzle over the timeline possibly being wrong, as Carrie and I are supposedly around the same age and I perceive it may be the late 1980s. I then show him my telekinetic ability. I will small items to fly into my hand from a distance as well as an empty cardboard box that had been put out for the garbage collectors. The other male seems curious but not afraid. “I can lift a house,” I explain, “or a car”. (I have the usual false memory that a house can be lifted into the air and set back down with telekinesis without destroying the foundation, plumbing, or electrical connections.)

There are many scenes after this where I go into a building and show my telekinetic abilities to several other unfamiliar people, mostly males of about twenty. I continuously will, over and over, mainly cups (though other items as well) to fly into my right hand. I perform such acts at least thirty times as others watch with mild interest. It seems effortless and triggered by softly imagining the feeling of already having it in my hand. I also eventually cause cups to slide across the table away from me (not nearly as common a dream event as willing them to me). The others find it amusing when I do this. For some reason, this seems more important and impressive than drawing objects to me.

I then decide to be Carrie herself. I am beginning what seems like eighth grade in an unknown school. While sitting at a long table with a few others in a row, I will pencils to fly into my hand from the table in front of us. One unfamiliar boy directly to my left looks at me and the pencils flying from the other table into my hand, but does not react - as if he cannot see or understand the world around him. He looks somewhat arrogant but completely clueless. I reason that, unlike the previous witnesses, many young people have no perception or understanding of the world around them, so unusual or unexplainable events are not perceived as such at all.

From here, I notice that the top layer of skin has come off around the base of my thumb and partly across the palm. There are clumps of dead skin here and there that I peel off. The flesh underneath is pure white and very soft and smooth. Curiously, I do not notice that my hand is reversed in orientation, that is, when my palm is up, my left thumb is on the right (instead of my left thumb being outward to the left with my palm up as it should be). It is very vivid, with an augmented sense of touch (though no pain) and I never take more notice to this impossible hand orientation despite the clarity.

In the last scene, I fly around above Sill Street, mostly to the west. (This is a very illogical location and focus for my dreams, as it was of little significance in real life and not seen at all since 1994, and yet has peculiarly become more common over the last few years.) This seems more of the closing credits to a movie. Curiously, instead of music associated with “Carrie” (1976), I hear an altered version of the lyrics and music from “Sybil” (1976 television miniseries). However, these are the same incorrect lyrics I sang in the 1970s, even playing the music on my accordion and electronic organs. I perceive Carrie (Sissy Spacek) as singing them. Instead of “Mirror mirror in my mind”, I always sang “Mirror mirror in my heart” (so much so, the real lyrics now sound “wrong” to me). Instead of “Come as a dream, ribbons of rhymes”, I sang it as “Fashions and swirls, ribbons and curls”.

Interestingly, Anita’s reference to supposedly five people having been in the bed may have deliberately foreshadowed me playing the two other roles before waking. Coins often relate to coalescence and the level of subliminally perceived neural activity in the dream state. Since early childhood, I have always been aware of very distinct differences between dream self modes, including passively non-lucid, non-lucid but willful, non-lucidly in control (being aware of making and controlling “my world” though with no direct recall of what a dream is), passive lucidity, willful lucidity, apex lucidity (total and sustained willful conscious creation and automatic linear control of the dream including deliberately symbolic waking transitions based on fifty years of day to day experience where certain long-term forms of conscious thought automatically integrate into unconscious states), and other distinct levels of unconsciousness, including entirely abstract where my existence seems to be as a letter of the alphabet or geometrical form, sometimes with unusual and unique mental rituals, or the repeating of a phrase to “perfectly” assume a physical position prior to waking.

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Morning of September 19, 2017. Tuesday.



In the first part of my dream, in the first non-lucid segment, I am in a typical scenario where I am in a bookstore (or what is firstly perceived as one) and looking at various comic books and graphic novels. This goes on for a long time as I gather a stack together to keep. The books are unfamiliar, thus new to me, though some are implied to be older (as far back as the 1970s).

At this stage, the personified preconscious is present as a younger unfamiliar male. Curiously, he is painting, as if there was also an art studio here. It is not much bigger than A4 size and lying on the table that I am sitting at eventually. It seems to be a landscape with flowers in the foreground.

I tell him how I had painted, with a paint-by-number kit when I was a boy, two skulls. I explain how they were two singular portraits of skeletal pirates, shown from about the chest up. (This is based on a real-life event and thus atypically, is a real memory.) He said he had never heard of them. “Oh, they were quite popular,” I reply. I then go on to describe how my older brother Earl had started a very large paint-by-number of the Mona Lisa, but had never finished. (This was also a real event, from the early 1970s.)

Eventually, I decide to walk out of what now seems like a second-hand store. I have a stack of graphic novels and comic books at least a foot high. However, it seems confused with the free bookstore, where (in real life) there is no one present other than the patrons and one is trusted to trade books of equal value on their own. A cashier, an older unfamiliar female, stops me by asking what I am doing. She is at a counter to my right. Apparently, I have to pay for the books, possibly a lot of money, which I do not have on me, which I tell her. I also protest in that I tell her I had left food on a previous visit. It does not seem to matter to her. I still apparently have to pay for these books now.

I take out my wallet and the contents of my right pants pocket and see that I have only coins, which I place on the counter, which has now suddenly shifted to the opposite side of the room and farther back from the entrance of the store - a subliminally willed (non-lucid dream control) attempt at reinduction, that is, I had consciously but subliminally willed the counter back from my dream’s implied exit point as well as shifting it from the right to the left, as right is more typical of waking symbolism orientation. (The checkout of a store symbolizes a specific level of emergent consciousness as a common liminal space end marker in my dreams, fully understood as such since I was very young. This does not mean every dream ends shortly after a checkout is rendered, but it does indicate a precursor to an expected shift in consciousness, not necessarily full wakefulness, though that is often the case).

The preconscious factors had transmuted from the artist (which symbolizes potential lucidity, though my non-lucid dream self does not realize this) to the elderly female cashier, though an unfamiliar male with a beard joins her on her right (the same orientation Zsuzsanna and I are presently sleeping in). The other male looks at my coins. Three of them are unusual in that they are mostly featureless other than having an embossed circle on them. “These are tally-hoes,” he says. This seems to mean that they may not be coins for buying something but possibly for use with public transport, or perhaps of little value. (Of course, “Tally-ho”, here an absentminded association with tallying up the total price as in “tally whole cost”, is here also a codeword for the waking transition analogous as the dream self hunting for the fox, which represents the precursor to coalescence back into conscious self identity and critical thinking skills or cleverness which the dream self does not typically possess.)

From here, my mode of non-lucid dream control increments. I decide to leave the store with the books anyway, by teleporting and phasing through the entrance door without opening it (another form of subliminal reinduction, that is, even though I do not know I am dreaming, I deliberately manipulate it, a very common state of in-dream awareness for me).

Still, they are heavy to carry, but I do not mind that much. It seems to be late at night. I notice that the moon is of an unusual appearance as a number of unusual clouds encircle it. The moon imagery is within the blue sky even though the rest of the sky is dark. Understanding that this image of the nighttime sky is absurd, I now become fully lucid and I decide to actively change and sustain my dream.

The first act I perform is to joyfully throw my books onto the ground, as there is no sense in carrying them (or to be weighed down by them) in the dream state. I feel physically lighter and very happy to realize I am dreaming due to lifelong understanding of taking full conscious self advantage of this state. I enter apex lucidity and decide to create a park and have a sustained and augmented sexual encounter with Zsuzsanna. After this, I will it again. Parts of my body are “buzzing” with pleasure and our climaxes are extended (probably due to the Tetris effect from so many real-life events). However, I eventually shift into a different form of lucidity, where my dream is so realistic, that my dream self starts to question if my real physical body is somehow walking around (which of course is a ridiculous thought, but this has happened in past lucid dreams of a higher and sustained form), so I decide to initiate waking to find that I (that is, my sleeping physical body) had not moved at all. Still, there is something about the bliss, freedom, and even perceived safety of apex lucidity that is hard to describe.

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Morning of September 16, 2017. Saturday.

Reading time: 3 min 34 sec. Readability score: 75.



My dream atypically begins in liminal space of the type that is usually an end marker, which a parking lot represents. The main characters other than myself are Ray Romano from “Everybody Loves Raymond” though his wife is Jane Wyatt as from the much older television show “Father Knows Best.“ Ray, Jane, their fictional daughter (who seems like a young version of Zsuzsanna, though my dream self does not recognize her as such), and I are in a dark blue pickup truck. I am in the cab, but I later ride in the back with their daughter.

An additional recurring dream state indicator (other than the parking lot) is the pickup truck itself (due to the play on “bed”). The first situation relates to an appointment made by her parents (I assume with no choice in the matter), because of a government agency coming to take their daughter to place her in a group home for specialized foster care. When other men arrive, parking at a distance from the truck, I take out a small cylindrical rod with a button on one end. I push it, and it transforms into a large pistol. I shoot at the car. After my third shot, it explodes dramatically and consumes four or five unoccupied cars near it.

An unknown man on the opposite side of the truck looks on in a puzzled manner. He does not leave the area of his car. He stands behind its open driver’s side door. So as I do not get found with a gun on me, I press a button on the gun’s handle, and it changes back into the small rod.

I ride in the back with their daughter. I tell Ray to drive down a particular road. Curiously, there are automatically operating French doors set up across part of it. (They are not a part of a building.) We go through these doors. I explain to their daughter about her need to grow up in a family environment with her real parents instead of by the government, which often results in cognitive dissonance through half-attained brainwashing. We talk for a long time, though I do not recall every detail. I agree with her that while some parents are not capable of viably raising children, that does not mean the government should have all children under their observation or utilize profiling based on race or cultural background.

I am aware of owning an expansive organization and area of land in which people live as they want as long as there is no crime. We arrive there, and the family makes plans for their living arrangements.

Before the three new people move into their new home, I talk about the confirmation of their state of health. The daughter says I am not a doctor. “Yes, I am,” I confidently reply.

I press a button on my device, and it transforms into an unusual machine. Parts grow out as a result of nanite activity. It resembles an oversized embossing label maker. The girl kneels down, and I look at the top of the device as I hold it directly over her head. It has scanned her entire body for any health issues and reports (by the print that appears on the surface of the top) that there are no concerns. I have Jane kneel as well. The device does not display any potential problems. Ray seems to have a cholesterol issue, but I will address that later.

An unfamiliar young black man is present. He seems to know me well. I ask him how his friends and family are. They are well. I go into a large room that has an ambiguous outdoors area on one side (a commonly recurring dream distortion that is impossible to resolve consciously). There are others in the room. One male is hunting for food. He shoots at a strange figure that runs behind trees and to the left. “Was that the Tasmanian Devil?” I ask cheerfully (though it looked more like a bizarre cartoon rabbit with human legs and wearing track shorts).

I feel a change in my level of consciousness, so I go down a flight of steps to vivify my dream. (This is even though I am not lucid. However, long-term knowledge of reactive representation often carries over into the dream state).

I am in a featureless field (a dream setting that represents an "empty” area of waking space). I decide to fly but not that far above the ground. I fly stomach down and use my arms to gain speed by pushing down against the ground to propel myself forward. I enjoy this more and more. I feel it will make me stronger in the arms while not tiring the rest of my body. I am aware of Leonard S (my pinhead friend from King Street). He is standing near a storefront that comes into view to my left. I am also aware of an older unknown male whom I feel may benefit from flying in the way I am as I consider he may need to strengthen his heart muscles in a less stressful way. (He seems about seventy years old.) I continue to fly this way. When I wake, my right hand is pushing down on the mattress though I am only partly on my stomach by way of my left side.

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Morning of September 15, 2017. Friday.



I am in a library that is not very well-defined and in fact seems to be “blank” on two sides. I am with two unfamiliar people, a younger male and younger female. They seem puzzled about where they are. A door is partly open behind us.

An unfamiliar older male appears in front of us (though more as if there the whole time). He makes a remark about “holding the door” so that we can leave the dream (though I am not fully lucid). “This is the waking transition,” he says. “Only this and nothing more.” (This is a line from Edgar Allan Poe’s poem “The Raven”.)

Four miniature birds quickly protrude from between his lips. The little birds are in a two by two arrangement (that is, two rows of two). I recognize the one on the upper left as a miniature blue crowned pigeon. (All four exotic birds are of a different species.) The impression is created that the man’s “tongue” (somehow made of the four birds) is pointing to the door on the opposite side of the room to show us the way out.

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Despite my waking symbolism being of the same basic patterns for over fifty years, it is always quite different in how it is specifically rendered. This dream combines doorway waking symbolism (of the threshold type - meaning threshold of real-time level of consciousness) with return flight waking symbolism.

Doorway waking symbolism is when RAS designates the potential exit point of the dream state as a doorway. (The reticular activating system or RAS is a set of connected nuclei that is responsible for regulating wakefulness and sleep-wake transition and is behind the formation of waking symbolism as such, often in my case by way of the personified preconscious, which is usually unrelated to real life, other than sometimes triggered by environmental noise or change in perceived light through the veil of sleep, but in my case, often linked to the transpersonal Source with prescience.)

Return flight waking symbolism (inherent to the dream state itself based on being unconscious - even used as such in comic strips and movies by showing birds flying around someone’s head when knocked out) occurs in over twenty percent of my non-lucid dreams, and has for over fifty years. This is also based on RAS due to the biological dynamics of the inner ear often triggering a falling sensation upon the return to wakeful consciousness. This is automatically unconsciously associated with birds, airplanes, flying under one’s own power, UFOs, and other flight symbols.

A library typically represents having more of the conscious self identity present within the dream state (due to the growing neural energy required to read and better understand text).

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