Blue_Opossum

Morning of September 13, 2017. Wednesday.



The main setting of my dream seems to be a larger variation of our bedroom in the house on Stadcor Street in Brisbane, where we have not lived in years. This seems to be the more dominant awareness of such due to that house’s kitchen being nearby in my dream’s layout and somewhat similar to real life, though there is also a vague association with the southwest Cubitis bedroom.

In addition to a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna, there are four female “angels” or devoted “dream servants” present, though their behavior is atypical as my dream is non-lucid and they seem like my “protectors” as well (this being a non-lucid subliminal carryover from the nature of apex lucidity and unrelated to my real life). One of them is the (retired) actress Leelee Sobieski, seeming about twenty-five. I eventually become annoyed with her as she seems to have a contrary mindset at one point. I bump into Leelee while I am intimate with Zsuzsanna (while Leelee is facing away from us). This physical contact annoys Leelee and her annoyance annoys me (and makes me suspicious yet not lucid), so I conclude her “devotion” is pretense despite her being a “guardian”. However, any perception of conflict soon fades.

In a scene in the kitchen, I have an electronic musical keyboard. I am thinking about recording some music for a new track. My mother is now present. (My dream self does not recall that she had died in 2002.) Pressing some of the keys, I see that one of them (seemingly a B key near the center of my keyboard) seems either loose or stuck due to the power cord somehow having been wrapped under the key. My mother tells me that she had done this (though unknowingly causing the problem), which makes me very annoyed as I am not sure if the key can be fixed as it seems broken or at least different in response to the other keys. I still want to play some music.

I soon notice a tiny hairless creature that I first think is dead. It is lying between the A and B keys near the middle of my keyboard. I feel a sense of disgust in thinking that it may be a small rat fetus. However, over time, it begins to move and then breathe and gasp. “Oh…It’s a dog fetus,” I say aloud to the others present in casual matter-of-fact observation.

Earl (an older half-brother on my mother’s side) is soon present. (My dream self does not recall that he had died in 2007.) The tiny hairless puppy, not much bigger than my thumb, is making unusual motions with its mouth (reminiscent of the “baby” in the movie “Eraserhead” from 1977). I wonder if it will even live, but I consider that Earl should put it with its mother to suckle. I have a wholly unexplainable false memory that Earl has a small dark gray cairn terrier that is likely its mother. The tiny “puppy” has an unusual brief feature on the top of its head that looks like an angular cap (though without the brim) of the kind a policeman or postman would wear, though it blends in with its head like an actual darker physical feature relating to its minimal fur. I know that my mind is creating this association somehow but it does not trigger lucidity.

In the last scene, I have a meal with the four “angels”, Zsuzsanna, my mother, and Earl. My keyboard seems unrealistically bigger and oversized, and we seem to be using it as a table. Along with other food, which seems mostly normal to me, I also seem to have eaten much of the puppy except for its head, though the imagery is quite magnified. I feel a bit strange, but then I realize it is not the original puppy, but a “copy” of it, and that the “real” one is with its mother. At this point, my dream becomes more abstract and fades without a direct waking prompt.

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Foundational dream state indicators (no present relevance to real life): Our previous bedroom in Brisbane synthesized with my parents’ bedroom of Cubitis is simply based on concurrent subliminal threads of awareness of having gone to bed and additionally perceiving Zsuzsanna and I as parents.

There are multiple reasons as to why Leelee Sobieski appeared in this dream, yet all of them unrelated to real-life symbolism and linked directly to the Reticular Activating System and real-time preconscious dynamics of the dream state. Reason number one stems from having briefly and randomly looked at details on IMDb of the 2007 movie “Walk All Over Me”. I only watched the first few minutes (and will watch it later with Zsuzsanna). She plays Alberta and appears as a cashier in the first few minutes, and the preconscious sometimes takes the form of a cashier to symbolize “checking out” of the dream state (as a lifelong recognized RAS function). Reason number two stems from her role in the 1998 movie “Deep Impact”, which has a theme analogous to the cessation of the dream state (“end of the world” association, symbolically unrelated to real life in this case). Reason number three comes from her role as Joan of Arc as associated with “divine voices and visions” and being in the dream state. Reason number four stems from her no longer being in movies as analogous to the waking precursor (“watching movies” as analogous to dreaming, though there may also be a play on “retired” as in going to bed).

The power cord wrapped under the key is a dream state indicator (unrelated to present waking life) that no pretend “dream interpreter” could possibly have a clue about. Here is why: When I lived in America, I sometimes used to script dreams in real time by using affirmations in a digital sampling keyboard and did in fact, cause a key to stay down with the power cord holding it. In fact, the irony of this plays off of itself. In one real-time scripted vivid dream when I was young, I was distracted in trying to find the real audio source in order to turn it off. I was in a hallway with various doors and could not tell where the real sound was coming from. This is possibly one of the most hilarious failures of critical thinking skills in an otherwise vivid lucid dream.

The last part of my dream is based on new ideas in my approach to newer music (as symbolized by the puppy needing to develop more). It is also an odd form of coalescence in “feeding off” my dream state (and the dream self coalescing back into consciousness). Also, as in uncountable past dreams, I was vaguely aware that I was consciously creating my dream (even though I was not lucid in any viable way), mostly only vaguely discernible in the scene where my focus on the “dead rat fetus” willed it to change into the living tiny hairless puppy. The focus on it coming to life and breathing relates to both waking up and very mild sleep apnea that is usually not a problem for me. Additionally, there are “end markers” here I do not typically go into detail about in an entry. For example, the B key represents the end of an octave and where there is no black key to the right of it, as a play on coming out of the unconscious state of dreaming, no more liminal space implied by the next white C key after the white B key.

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Morning of September 11, 2017. Monday.



My dream is non-lucid, yet I am aware at one level that I am making my world and the events that unfold and I understand my dream’s autosymbolism while I am in it without recalling what a dream is.

I am with my wife Zsuzsanna on a city bus. I am aware that the setting seems to be the north side of La Crosse (though Zsuzsanna has never been in America in real life).

The bus is rendered incorrectly. Although it seems to be in America and the bus driver seems like a bus driver of whom I knew in real life (also in America), the driver’s side is on the right and the doors are on the left. My dream self does not consider this as wrong though. Zsuzsanna and I are on the right, only a couple seats back from the driver.

Over time, I am uncertain of our destination or of any cohesive backstory. There is a scene where the bus stops near an intersection. I have somewhat of an expectation that it will turn to the right and softly bump the back of a parked car and it does. The driver does not seem alarmed or surprised, but cheerfully comments “oops” and backs the bus up and turns to the left.

I realize that where we get off has something to do with me waking from the dream state. I remember that a bus ride symbolizes the return to consciousness (and that waking symbolism is “correctly” oriented to my right), and yet somehow, my dream self does not maintain viable lucidity or the viable memory of what a dream actually is. (This is difficult to resolve in conscious afterthought but is a fairly common way of thinking in my non-lucid dreams. It is what it is. It is probably a result of over fifty continuous years of dream documentation and study, and resolving most of them.)

I do not consider that I could just wake up by willing it (even as in certain non-lucid dreams) as I have done in many past dreams. I think that the bus stop I have to get off at in order to achieve consciousness is on the right side of the street when going south and is near the Rivoli Theatre (the bus stop sign being unrealistically high, nearly as high as a traffic light), but I do wake before we reach the area.

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Time and time again, for over fifty years, I have written about how the preconscious is never dominant or aggressive (other than when biologically premonitory) when I am already willingly in the waking transition (albeit, typically subliminal as such), and it is as true here as always. Here, the preconscious (bus driver) even cheerfully allows me to deliberately cause the bus that he is otherwise driving to softly bump into a car by (subliminal) mental will before moving on. (This bump is likely symbolic of Zsuzsanna and I softly bumping each other while sleeping, since vehicles typically symbolize the human body or holding the mode of unconsciousness in real time.)

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Morning of September 11, 2017. Monday.



I am walking with two unknown males, a situation of which continued from a very long previous dream sequence. I think about robbing a place, but the details are not clear yet. I eventually realize that I am carrying a Glock pistol. Soon, I “realize” that I am a black female of perhaps about twenty-five years old.

It seems late at night. I go into a small trailer park in an open field where a dense forest is to my left. An unknown black female, but of whom is apparently known to the character I presently am, complains about me being there to rob her again (though I do not recall any backstory for this). Other than that, she does not seem alarmed by my gun. She opens a couple drawers in a large chest of drawers in her trailer. There is a bundle of one-hundred-dollar bills in an even stack, partly wrapped in cellophane. There is also a roll of fifty-dollar bills held together with a rubber band. There are also numerous rolls of coins. I tell her to keep some of the money, including the roll of fifties, but she insists that I take all of it. I put everything in two bags. There are several other items besides the American money, including bottles of perfume and shampoo and small items of clothing. I leave the trailer park, walking briskly east. I see a couple others outside of their trailers on my right, one an older black male of about sixty.

Somehow, it is suddenly daylight now, possibly early afternoon. I am with two unknown Caucasian males (though one reminds me vaguely of Don K from the early 1980s). I am seemingly now a male character, though not fully myself and perhaps about twenty years old. We seem to be going west on Sill Street, having gone past Wood Street and possibly Kane Street. I decide to toss my gun on the ground near the intersection near the trunk of a tree so I am not armed if caught (thinking I would be in less trouble). Still, I consider that may not be a good idea as a child might find it. The others and I continue, but eventually turn right to go north. I continue to carry my two bags.

We seem happy until one of the males looks back and sees another male who apparently knows us. It may be that he will cause trouble or at least be annoying if he sees us and catches up with us. The male who recognizes this other male tells us all to go our separate ways. “I have to try to wake him up,” he says in an authoritative tone. He goes across the front lawns of a few houses on the right side of the street and I am still following him, unsure of the situation. He yells with frustration and waves me off, indicating to me not to follow him. The male who had been behind us is apparently sleepwalking. He has long black hair and a long black beard and has on blue jeans but no shoes, socks, or shirt. He starts cheerfully talking to the male that seems to know who he is. “I can’t understand anything you’re saying,” the sleepwalking male is told, “You’re speaking gibberish”.

I continue to go north a short distance, but then turn around to go through a very narrow residential alley back southward. I am slightly concerned that I might annoy people by going through or close to their backyards but I do not see anyone. At the end of the alley are two closed chain-link gates about chest-high, side by side. Each of the two gates is for a different house, which makes no sense, as the alley goes past all houses on the block and the gates are adjacent to the public sidewalk. Before I get to them, I have to climb quickly up over a couple large full garbage bags and some other objects. At first, I think the gates might be locked, but I am able to open them by turning a horizontal L-shaped bolt lock. The detail is very vivid and realistic in appearance (but unlike any setting I had ever seen in real life). The sense of physical momentum and touch is vivid as well.

A few police officers approach me and look in my bags and ask me where I am going. I see that there are a lot of rolls of coins in them. I insist that everything is mine, but they seem condescending. While pretending that I am totally innocent, I am eventually able to get away. One policewoman seems to think I am okay and seems to see me as being victimized by the other officers. However, a chubby male officer seems determined that I will be caught again and found to have robbed someone, or possibly a bank.

I somehow end up going through the second floor of a business building. There are a few times when I fly after getting outside again, but I end up walking again, as my two bags are heavy. I somehow end up back near Sill and Kane and recall how I had deliberately thrown my gun there (at the northeast corner) but I do not see it. It is daylight at this time.

I am now briskly walking south through the north side of La Crosse (except that it looks more like the south side) and it seems to be night once again. I somehow have my gun again without contemplating that I had gotten rid of it. I am the black female character again. I make sure my gun is holstered in the front of my pants and unseen. I am thinking of finding the Loomis Street house to hide out even though that does not make sense as I am supposedly someone else. I vaguely recall that my sister had died but that my brother-in-law may be there (though they had actually moved prior to my sister’s death, though I was living in Australia by that time). I continue to carry the two cloth bags of money and other items, one in each hand. I notice that about eight people are running towards me, though not directly towards me. I think they may have attempted to rob a closed business but none of them are carrying anything. Police cars go by but they curiously do not stop. (The scene of these looters, including their appearance, was very similar to something I did not know about until after this dream and seeing it on the news, so I am considering this part as prescient.)

I cross the street (which may be a distorted version of Loomis Street, though too commercial) to my right and turn right down a very narrow alley with tall commercial buildings on each side. The alley is not wide enough for a car to follow me through and is at least two city blocks long. However, nearing the opening ahead, I see a puff of smoke going past the edge of a building on the left side of the end of the alley at about head level. It is the chubby policeman, who is smoking a cigarette, who had vowed to catch me. I knock him in the head with my heavy bags and knock him over. The police woman, who seems to be on my side, is possibly going to help me escape now.

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The preconscious modelling itself artificially, or mimicking itself, in needing to wake another dream character (instead of me) is about as surreal and unusual as it gets (even stranger than a false awakening where I am writing down or telling someone about my previous dream). The threads of my dream self identity changing a few times (without any focus on that dynamic) is rather odd as well.

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Morning of September 9, 2017. Saturday.



I am with my family mostly as we appear now, though our home seems of a different layout. I have a glass of grape juice with a drinking straw. I do not drink the juice from my glass. Instead, using a funnel, I pour it into the virtual fuel tank of a plastic miniature jeep that is about the size for a child to “drive”. The fuel tank is inside the front of the car near the top, accessible by way of a small square horizontal lid, which implies that there is not a larger standard hood (bonnet). The undersized jeep is facing me though oriented somewhat to my left, with the fuel tank being in the left half.

From here, I attempt to drink the grape juice from the tank by using a straw. Even though the tank seems full and the straw seems to be below the surface of the juice, I cannot seem to suck the juice up through my straw. (There seems to be more grape juice in the fuel tank than had been in my glass.) Some of the grape juice may be a bit gritty. I consider that the straw is not quite reaching the surface of the grape juice but I also illogically consider that I still may be able to suck it up through the air and into the straw, though at another point, it seems to touch bottom. I cannot get much taste or satisfaction out of my actions.

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This is another dream of many throughout my life where a vehicle is analogous to the human body. The fuel tank would symbolize my stomach (especially as it is higher up and at the front - though the orientation of the tank being on the left side would otherwise imply my physical body only if my body was facing downwards, though which makes perfect sense if the wheels are analogous to my hands and feet). The meaning seems to relate that once I have something in my stomach (fuel tank), I cannot undo its presence in my body and additionally should not consider my physical body as a “toy” by drinking the wrong fluids, as well as the jeep itself implying a “battle” related to maintaining good health. Still, I do not drink grape juice very often and no longer drink cola. This dream is probably just a reconfirmation of that healthy choice.

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Morning of September 8, 2017. Friday.



Instead of making a separate entry for each of these five dreams of today, I will, at least for now, include only their summaries in one entry. (These are not all of today’s dreams as I sometimes remember fifteen or more, rarely ever less than five or six, not including the hundreds of short hypnagogic sequences, though those are usually of apex lucidity and too personal to post.) There were other dreams both before and after this sequence of five.

Dream one: “Sighting a Red-winged Blackbird Near a Bus Stop”. I am in an unknown area in an unknown city, though I do not consider it as unfamiliar or how I got here. A kindergarten teacher is trying to get all of her students to gather together in one area, possibly near the bus stop. (She reminds me a little of my own kindergarten teacher from my childhood.) They may have been on a field trip. The streets have mostly commercial buildings. There is an open area which is mostly like a park on the opposite side of the street from where I am. I see one bird walking about on the short grass. It is a red-winged blackbird. As it slowly moves away from my view, sometimes hopping or flying a very short distance, I notice that the spot on its wing seems different at times, either more red or more yellow, but I consider that this relates to how its wing is positioned. It faces to the right at times. I point at it and cheerfully say that it is a red-winged blackbird. The teacher acknowledges me briefly but seems more interested in gathering her students together. (This is a typical combination of return flight waking symbolism mixed in with coalescence waking symbolism, with the bus stop analogy of returning to wakeful consciousness. The preconscious - the teacher - is passive here as it is not my last dream of the sleeping period.)

Dream two: “Shaving with a Guinea Pig’s Shaving Cream”. I am with an unknown male in an unfamiliar bathroom, though I seem to be him at times. The other male is in the bathroom to shave, but he uses shaving cream which belongs to the guinea pig. The “guinea pig”, who actually seems mainly like an ordinary male human, stands off to my left and warns about a human being using it as it may be toxic to them or unsuitable at best. I shave slowly and carefully while looking in the mirror as I am seemingly now the other male. The detail is very clear and vivid. After this, with mostly smooth skin, guinea pig hair seems to grow out smoothly and cleanly from where my shaving occurred, mostly around my chin. I am not that concerned as this is apparently happening to the other male and not me even though I presently seem to be him. (This is partly related to removing most of my facial hair recently. Our guinea pigs are sometimes presently kept in the bathroom because of the cold weather, though in a fully-enclosed cage with a solid bottom.)

Dream three: “Stolen Dimensional Gateway Emerald”. I am with a few unknown males. We enter a large room that has an unusual glass structure in the center which is higher than our height but only about two-thirds the height of the room. It would be cross-shaped if viewed from above. There is a glass room in the center, with four smaller rooms of slightly lesser height coming out from each direction. Each room’s walls are transparent. Here and there are multicolored rocks of the type found near some railroad tracks. I am aware that the emerald used to control the dimensional gateway is missing. In fact, I consider that I may have taken it. There is a vague sense of amusement as another male is annoyed that he cannot use the gateway. I look over a few of the interesting railroad track rocks and mention how the gateway emerald could be replaced, not to actually be usable, but so that other people do not know the real one was taken. “They don’t have anything like that at Walmart,” says the other male angrily. (This is some sort of distorted and failed reinduction - that is, dream reinitiation attempt, my dream self coalesced with the preconscious and my subliminal will projected as from another character.)

Dream four: “Snake in a Cake”. There is some sort of party (possibly a birthday party) in a mostly featureless room that mostly only has a very large three-tiered pink cake that is about a foot higher than me. I get the impression that it may be taking place in the house on St. Cloud Street (where my older brother Earl lived for a time years ago). A lot of people are present, most unfamiliar, some relatives. After a time, a very large snake crawls across the floor. I relay what I see to the crowd, some people trying to leave, but there are too many people pushing about. I watch the snake smoothly crawl into the base of the cake and disappear. The imagery is mostly in pinks, oranges, and yellows. I relay how the snake has gone into the cake. Someone, an unknown male, says that he is not eating any of the cake. Later, the cake starts turning like a merry-go-round, which is caused by the snake’s actions. The cake eventually falls apart but there is seemingly not that much of a threat from the snake. (This probably relates to becoming dizzy in the past presumably from too much sugar, but I have not had problems with that lately, and I no longer drink cola at all. The snake was not rendered very realistically - more of the “War of the Serpents” mood and style from my childhood, so not serving as a vivid and more dominant waking prompt in itself as in other cases. Pink of a specific hue is often related to mild indigestion in sleep, based directly on taking Pepto-Bismol a number of times when I was young.)

Dream five: “Earl’s Puppies”. This is fairly vivid. I walk into a room that is mostly featureless. Earl (older half-brother on my mother’s side who died in November of 2007) is standing in the room. There is not much light. He seems healthy and appears mostly as he was in the 1980s. I am aware that he has at least three puppies (perhaps four) inside his abdomen. I hear them whimper a few times and there is movement on his skin’s surface. (His shirt is up.) I am not sure if he had (either deliberately or accidentally) swallowed them whole or is willingly to be some sort of surrogate mother. I ask him if he is concerned about being bitten internally or if it might hurt. He seems cheerful and resolute. (This is likely a result of mild indigestion mixed with hearing the dog next door whining in real life through the veil of sleep.)

There were a number of other dreams, a couple of which I may post separately at a later time or date. These dreams in order of vividness and clarity were five, two, one, three, four.

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Morning of September 7, 2017. Thursday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are in bed in the same orientation as in reality. However, our implied bedroom is unfamiliar and mostly featureless. We are still trying to get more sleep but there is a bug present on the wall to our right (though not really a threat).

Over time, there are more bugs seen. At one point, there is a large mosquito and a spider on the ceiling directly above us. The spider and mosquito are after each other, but I am not sure which one ends up defeating the other. A large cockroach also falls from the ceiling to the floor to our left at one point, making an audible “splat”. A large garden spider remains in a web a bit farther to my right, on the ceiling.

After more time passes, there are vaguely humorous associations with this situation. Eventually, I look to my left, past Zsuzsanna, and see a large frog of unusual appearance. Its head seems slightly oversized. It sits on the upper shelf of some sort of small white side table, facing outwards.

There is slight amusement growing in this scene of a frog, as it is much bigger than the bugs that had caused a concern about being able to sleep comfortably.

Looking up and past where my head was, beyond the head of our bed, I see a dark room I did not know was there. I soon notice a baby gorilla looking back at me. To its left, I then see an adult gorilla. I am also aware of the presence of an unknown male who is in the room beyond the left side of our bed, though which I do not see as an imposer (though of whom is this dream’s personified preconscious).

Although the gorilla is large, I am not really afraid of it. I do not even consider the situation as being very unusual. Instead, I ask the unknown male if it needs some water, and the answer is yes. I get out of bed and attach a small white hose (similar to our bathtub hose) to a pipe and direct water into a large square silver container (probably about two and a half feet square). At first, I thought the container was empty, but as I direct water into it from a distance of about four feet, it seems it was at least half full. The room seems mostly clean but featureless other than the adult and young gorilla and the water container.

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This dream is very amusing as a comedic sequential augmentation of the waking transition, similar to other dreams where the waking precursor becomes larger and more dominant over time to get my dream self’s attention to generate enough of an emotional reaction and neural energy to initiate waking (which is a primary function of dreams which, bizarrely, most people do not even realize at all). It combines aspects from a number of past dreams, most specifically my recent dream “Plumbing Troubles in a Three-Tiered Miniature Zoo” (from August 26th), where I was unable to resolve the water flow though which I did with this dream. Although water induction remains a very common form of dream state initiation (which might mean that this dream is an attempt at subliminal reinduction), I think there may be more of a biological factor in this case in needing to wake up and rehydrate. Bugs, especially cockroaches, typically relate to biological factors in removing cellular waste - though sometimes even a virus, general cleaning of which is mainly believed to be related to the glymphatic system, which increases fluids in the brain when sleeping.

The presence of a frog is a residual factor of water induction (as it is associated as a water denizen but which also spends time on land). Its appearance and general dynamics (depending on the dream) is relative to a specific level of consciousness and also marks the waking transition (more as a circadian rhythms factor) due to a tadpole being associated with the basis (or origin) of the dream state when I was very young, thus tadpole to frog (as well as caterpillar to butterfly) is a sequential waking cycle analogy, marking the same general level of consciousness as a cash register often would (relating to “checking out” of the dream state, and in fact, my dreams have taught me this by combined symbolism many times over the years).

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Morning of September 6, 2017. Wednesday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna as we are living in our present home as it is now. Our landlord, whom we have rarely ever seen in real life, somehow managed to have had his grayish blue pickup truck parked in our lounge room (yet there was no backstory to how this could have happened). It faces east, oriented left to right when looking towards our front door. My dream self does not consider the impossibility of this situation. I am somewhat annoyed. Apparently our landlord had parked it here to work on for a time, to fully repair it.

In the bed of the pickup truck are a number of small parts. There is also a blue tarpaulin covering the bed. I make a sarcastic comment that our landlord will probably take months to fix up his pickup truck. (This is based on the real-life association of how he takes a year or more to fix up houses he owns.) I am not really looking forward to our landlord spending so much time in our lounge room working on his pickup truck over the coming months.

Meanwhile, I had been looking at a dream-related website that I had posted on in real life (though not as often as my main sites). I look over the posts I had made one by one, though at times, it is more as if I am looking at entries in an actual dream journal of the style of when I was a teenager. Still, there is a heart symbol indicating how many people had liked a dream post. I clearly notice that the number 45 appears to the left of one red heart symbol. (This is in error, as the heart symbol on the website in real life is blue. However, the heart symbol on another site, tumblr, becomes red when clicking on it.) It surprises me that 45 people took the time to click to “like”, especially as the majority of people, as to be expected, seem to have no interest in my personal truths regarding over fifty years of dream study and personal validation. I also notice other numbers such as 23 (for older posts). The numbers seem to increase with later posts.

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The pickup truck in my dream was validated in very early childhood to have two primary meanings, though which is more of a synthesis of parallel symbolism. One, a pickup truck has a “bed”, and is thus a distorted dream state indicator. In this case, there is even a tarpaulin over the bed, which represents a blanket on a bed (and being in the dream state). More so, the pickup truck is in our lounge room, where I have sometimes fallen asleep in the same area (while watching television), though with my head westerly, not easterly as with the front of the pickup truck - though I suspect this relates to my general dislike of commercial television. Two, a vehicle as such (including cars, boats, and airplanes), in addition to being related to a distortion of a bed after entering sleep, is also directly analogous to the human body. The truck is parked, relating to the fact that I am in a certain level of consciousness, that is, not yet in the waking transition. The repair work associated with the personified preconscious (in this case, our landlord) relates to the preconscious as a biological necessity which assists in both waking as well as linking to other levels of the mind for cellular repair. There have been numerous dreams since childhood with this same basic symbolism, though rendered uniquely each time. There is no intelligent reason to pretend the truck is something else other than the parallel symbolism of my physical body, and my body as it is in bed, especially as it is indoors in our house (not on a street outside) and a direct factor of the preconscious. Despite me being typically annoyed by the preconscious and its imposition into the environments of my dreams, it is a biological necessity. It ultimately has nothing to do with waking life personas in this case.

Additionally, consider the heart symbol. This relates to the physical body as well; the human heart. The number I notice is 45, which I assume is an age reference, especially as the numbers are seen to increment over time. It may relate to a particular instance when I was 45 in contrast to how my heart is now, though I have not looked fully into it yet.

Of course, the last, but not least, obvious dream state indicator is the dream-related website. Still, this did not trigger full lucidity, mainly due to having used the site in real life. Computer technology as somehow rendered into paper and notebooks is a commonly recurring feature, likely a carryover from having kept dream journals from early childhood on, long before computer technology was viable for storing dream data.

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Morning of September 4, 2017. Monday.



I am in our present bedroom in our house as it mostly is now. Curiously, at one point, I see that I am drinking a Frozen Coke with a straw. (I no longer drink cola in real life.) My wife Zsuzsanna, who is sitting to my left on the foot of our bed (the same orientation as we are in sleep, that is, she is on my left in our bed), had bought it. I consider possible health issues, but I decide that just this one, within a long time period, would not do that much damage to my health, and thus I enjoy drinking it (which proves that dream self “reasoning” is unrelated to conscious self reasoning).

I should have seen this situation as a dream state indicator (since I would never drink a Frozen Coke in reality), yet I did not, and because I did not, the preconscious kicks in, in a typical imposer role of the exact same type (and same overall mood and level of dream state awareness) since early childhood. (This of course, is one of many reasons I have never believed in “dream interpretation” as the term is usually used, simply because I understand what dreams are and how they work.)

This time the preconscious personification occurs as a young unfamiliar male, he comes into our lounge room and gazes at me from near the front door. Of course, this greatly annoys me and I get up to chase him back outside. As he goes back onto our porch, I notice it seems late at night. I jab his chest and chin with my Olympic barbell (which has no weights on it, but is my weapon of choice in many dreams), pushing him backwards. He walks out onto the street, but I shout to him that I will “get my shotgun” if he comes back.

Zsuzsanna joins me on our porch. I notice a number of unfamiliar people walking in both northerly and southerly directions at the intersection in the street perpendicular to ours. I consider that there is some sort of public event going on. This may be why the unknown male ended up absentmindedly coming into our house.

Without remembering that there is no door to the entrance to our porch in reality, that is, the doorway parallel to our lounge room door (front entrance), I attempt to close a wooden door. The dynamics of this otherwise solid door make absolutely no sense, but my dream self does not catch on at all.

Zsuzsanna watches me as I attempt to close the door over the porch entrance doorway. I do this in the understanding that it is actually our lounge room door. This makes such little sense, it is utterly absurd, because our lounge room door is actually a few feet from the porch doorway and not even hinged anywhere in that area. Still, it does not matter to my dream self as I try it anyway. (The door actually somehow seems free-floating in one way, though still has some sort of virtual hinging at times.)

I push the door to close into the right wall of the porch, but it does not quite fit. In fact, the otherwise solid wooden door bends a bit, leaving impossible curves in the top and bottom, though seems to resume its shape when pulled back out. I pull it back out and push it back in a few times, but I do not think it will serve as a viable door. I look at the items on our porch, including the dresser, and wonder if people will take
something.

---

This dream renders the waking transition as typical doorway waking symbolism of the same basic type as since early childhood. Such dreams, like many other dreams and their inherent waking symbolism, are unrelated to waking life in any symbolic sense. (I do not believe in “dream interpretation” in that sense anyway.)

What about this dream relating to waking life in any way? Only my wife Zsuzsanna in this case has any connection to waking life, yet the fact we are sitting at the foot of our bed signifies that even this is a dream state indicator (symbolizing, in real time, that we are asleep).

A door is typically the implied exit point of the dream in both lucid and non-lucid dreams, though a dream can also be vivified by going through a doorway or opening a door (and in fact this is one of my main ways to induce apex lucidity). This one was more illogical than in virtually countless past dreams of the same type of waking symbolism. There are probably at least two incidental reasons, one, the door pressing and crunching against the porch wall upon attempting to fully close it as was the door to my Cubitis bedroom (thus a subliminal dream state indicator relating to a “return” to bed - that is, subliminal acknowledgement that the physical body is in bed), two, the wobbliness of the door being analogous of having a heavier blanket over me at the time (as of course a blanket yields to physical movement but can be smoothed out again when a bed is made).

Of course, as I have written hundreds of times in my personal journal since childhood, a porch symbolizes (in real time) higher liminal space and is unrelated to waking life symbolism other than the literal implications of what a porch is (between fictional dream self identity and true conscious self identity). Additionally, the preconscious is transpersonal and always consequently the least like the dreamer (until merging with the emergent consciousness if such is the case) or otherwise there would not be the emotional contrast required to induce waking (yet I am always astounded by people who do not understand this as this is a dream’s main function). While in some cases, the preconscious takes the form of a person the dreamer may have an actual conflict with, for me, it is often far less true, as there will be conflict with the preconscious no matter what conscious self dynamics are extant. Whether or not a person has any current conflict in waking life has nothing to do with the nature of the preconscious as many people unintelligently presume (though is but one of many of the inherent falsehoods of “dream interpretation” by way of the very common Barnum effect). If I were to “get along” with the preconscious, this would possibly sustain my dream indefinitely, which is not biologically feasible or healthy. However, when I do passively coalesce with the preconscious, which is then no longer the preconscious but the emergent consciousness, I wake anyway (coalescence waking symbolism). The only real difference used to be the coloring of mood on whether my dream had a positive or negative outcome. Since I now have a greater understanding of my dreams than ever before, that coloring of mood being potentially negative, regardless of preconscious dynamics, has lessened significantly.

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Morning of September 2, 2017. Saturday.

Dream #: 18,520-03. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



My dream, which originated with the water induction process (melatonin mediation association), eventually clarifies as my dream self’s presence in a parking lot with no discernible lake. (However, the first fossil I find relates to the water lowering waking transition, a common form of waking symbolism since early childhood.)

It is afternoon. I am waiting to get on a bus that is near a shopping mall. My wife Zsuzsanna and youngest son are present with a few unfamiliar people who have not boarded the bus yet. I am sitting about 20 feet from the shopping mall’s entrance. The bus is to my right. (Thus, my dream’s potential exit point is to my right.)

I dig into the parking lot as if it was soil and find a fish skeleton fossilized in rock. I consider our youngest son would like it. I discover another “fossil” that is possibly a child’s craft project made of plaster of Paris. The impression seems to be from a plastic toy. As I talk about the second fossil not being real, I consider that the first one might not be genuine either. An unfamiliar girl standing nearby seems annoyed and walks off to board the bus.

Meanwhile, I find a few other “fossils,” which are craft projects. One has an impression of a miniature baseball bat in it which I hold up as I comment. The pattern is about the length of my finger.

I get up to board the bus. Zsuzsanna is on my left in a seat about halfway back on the left side of the aisle. Our children are also present. My mother is at the front of the bus on the left side, seated closest the aisle. (I do not recall she died in 2002.)

My mother complains about stomach pain and seems in distress. She moves forward and down in her seat for a short time. I notice that other people near the front of the bus seem concerned. She may need to see a doctor. Two unknown people hold her, one on each side, and help her get off the bus. The bus driver exclaims, “Hey, get back here.”

The other people are still near my mother as I look off to my left and see her sit down on a wooden bench. I notice there are other wooden benches in an equidistant pattern. They are seen lengthwise, parallel to the bus but facing away from it.

---

Zsuzsanna had stomach pain recently. As the bus represents leaving my dream (the bus driver being the preconscious simulacrum and saying “Hey, get back here” as a subliminal correlation with Zsuzsanna’s physicality), I wish to have her pain left behind (despite my mother rendered as this factor). The bus has an Australian association as the driver is on the right (yet my mother had never been to Australia).

The miniature baseball bat is associated with swinging my arms, gaining the physical energy to fully awake and get out of bed, a form of vestibular system correlation.

---

See “- Causes of Dreams - Parking Lot - page 1 -” to understand this dream.

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Morning of September 2, 2017. Saturday.



I find a cigarette lighter, which is something I do not have or use in real life. (In real life, however, the other day, Zsuzsanna had found that a thoughtless unknown person had put or dropped one in her baby pram with no direct indication that they had.)

The lighter makes sparks when I test it at first, but eventually, an upwards stream of water comes out, sometimes flowing out in a long-reaching arc. I have fun for a time in watching the water flow out. It is not logical though, as much more water comes out than could possibly fit inside the lighter.

---

Water is my most common analogical representation of entering sleep as dream state initiation. It has remained inherent (on a day to day basis since early childhood) to the nature and biology of sleep (from the unconscious association with having slept in the waters of the womb during the first months of existence but it also has a real-time correlation with the glymphatic system) and is why the sound of water is used on virtually endless relaxation and dream induction recordings. It is otherwise typically unrelated to waking life other than biologically. (For example, a dream of a flood could relate to physical over-tiredness or sleeping at the wrong time, though I often dream of floods in a positive context.)

This dream is also related to reinduction, especially as fire otherwise represents growing neural activity and a waking prompt, thus being semi-lucid, I am deliberately trying to sustain the dream state with a form of dream state alchemy in manipulating water (manipulating sleep dynamics).

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Morning of August 31, 2017. Thursday.



When I was a toddler, and as a consequence of a long journey being required to get to a hospital (from an isolated cypress swamp), I nearly died (well, I did have an NDE) from loss of blood and almost lost my left hand as the result of an accident of falling from the top of a stool (I loved to climb) across a large piece of a glass mug. However, miraculously, I fully recovered contrary to predictions made by the doctor. Somehow, my brain was wired differently and I did not even go into shock. (I also grew new neural pathways and trained myself to use my hand again, without any help, by the age of four which some had claimed is why my clarity of mind is as it is and why I always remember so many dreams from each sleeping period). Years later, people noted how my scar looked somewhat like a reversed map of Florida, the state I was born in (Zsuzsanna has a similar story, but that is one of many). It is shown partly in the image as such in a photographic flip (though it actually goes around the other side of my wrist from there). When Zsuzsanna and I met, there was also a healing process. (For example, the large hard lump in my left wrist, made up of random bone and tendon, somehow vanished after being that way since I was a toddler. Zsuzsanna’s leaking cartilage in her right knee, another lifelong condition, also no longer existed as such.)

At any rate, in this new dream, I have some sort of smaller medical tape covering my scar in at least two pieces that are perpendicular to each other. I am somewhat puzzled, as I remember my wound but I do not fully recall its status. I seem to be near the age I am now. The tape seems to be coming off, and I am concerned that the wound flaps are not fully integrated into my arm, as parts of my arm seem to open like a purse (as had occurred in another recent dream, though in that case, it was my entire arm).

After a time, I hear music coming out of the holes of my wound, which sounds like odd flute music but vibrating somewhat. The texture of my arm seems somewhat unusual, and it is also as if I am blowing into my scar at one point and playing it to create flute music.

As I am dreaming this, I am awakened by Zsuzsanna - who validated that I had been snoring for awhile. This of course (and I actually did have my mouth near my wrist as such though not as fully as in my dream), along with numerous other experiences, proves to me that the belief about “not being able to dream and snore at the same time” is utter nonsense (as are most beliefs about dreams that are widely published). It may be true for some people, but certainly not for all. (In fact, most ideas about dreams are limited to perhaps only certain individuals assuming any truth at all, for example, people talk about “not remembering dreams”, yet I do all the time, each sleeping period, including hundreds of lucid hypnagogic sequences and with non-lucid dreams, my mind typically automatically decodes their meaning unless prescient.) There have been a number of dreams where my snoring provided a “soundtrack” for my dream, including childhood dreams (including one about a dinosaur, triggered by hearing my own snoring through the veil of sleep) and one as an adult about being pursued by a bear (the sound of the bear being my own snoring).

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Night of August 29, 2017. Tuesday.



As a very young child, an intriguing recurring dream, some of which versions were lucid, involved walking down a zigzagging path. It usually seemed to be late at night or very early in the morning before dawn. I would notice a splendorous tree. I would also notice, within the foliage of that tree, eerie glowing eyes.

The eyes did not seem threatening, though I was aware they were watching me. These states were very vivid. These animals were eventually revealed to be opossums.

In this new dream, I “return” to this tree and some sort of analogy begins. The tree is shown to represent the human brain, while the glowing eyes represent the energy of neurons presumably while in the dream state. For some reason, it seems a perfect analogy.

---

One of the several reasons why “opossum” became a part of my dream-self identity, tribal name, and online dream journalist name, was because of these vivid childhood dreams and the fact that an opossum is a perfect symbol for being in the dream state (as an opossum “plays dead” as an analogy of being asleep - not meant in a negative context).

---

Zsuzsanna had a pet Australian opossum when I first made contact with her. This was one of thousands of details that validated our inherent connections to each other long before we met. (She also drew an opossum in a tree as a child with an airplane flying over it, and of course, I flew in an airplane to Australia.) My life has remained miraculous and Zsuzsanna is the only person near my age I can sense as being “there” at all (through the blue flame or Blue Pearl “telepathy”, for lack of a better word).

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Morning of August 30, 2017. Wednesday.



My dream’s setting is a unique composite as always. (I have never non-lucidly dreamt of the same setting more than once, even in tens of thousands of closely studied and fully mapped non-lucid dreams for over fifty years. This aspect of non-lucid dreams is due to the incidental real-time dynamics of being in non-lucid REM sleep, where reflective cognitive capabilities do not exist as in lucid dreams and even more so in apex lucidity where automatic conscious control of the dream state is achieved.)

The back area of our house is modeled after our present home, (our backyard south of our house), except that the area between the short hallway to the back door and the minimally-rendered kitchen has no dividing layout (and is all an open area). The implied east side of this rendering (assuming our present home) is loosely modeled after the north side of a previous home on Stadcor Street in Brisbane (though the driveway more like the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield), the third-from-last house we lived in. The front of my dream’s house, implied to be oriented northerly, is modeled more accurately after the west area of the Stadcor Street house, which was also the front of that house.

For several minutes, my dream features the recurring event of me taking supposed public money out of a device in our home (that is, a device in our home which is apparently used by the public and the money going elsewhere, which makes no sense from a waking life standpoint, especially as the public would not otherwise have use of our home, the only way to explain this being real-time symbolism related to receiving thoughts from other people via the collective unconscious which was validated long ago from “receiving” from Zsuzsanna long before we met in reality). There is no backstory on what purpose the device serves. It may be some sort of unlikely vending machine (though is too small to serve that purpose). The device is about the length of my hand and looks like a miniature vertically elongated cash register. Zsuzsanna is present and so is Marilyn (older half-sister on my Mother’s side who died in 2014, though I have no memory of her death here and she appears as she was in the 1980s). I make three attempts to get money out. My second and third attempts make no sense as I had already gotten all the coins out in the first attempt, by shaking the device upside-down, yet many more come out on my second and third attempts. The sound of the clinking coins, the movement and momentum of my hands, and the movement of the internal parts of the device are rendered very realistically.

I am eventually aware of a police presence in our backyard. There are at least seven officers standing around on stakeout, though not for us, but a criminal who lives in the area. Still, I am concerned they might see the various coins lying everywhere on the floor. I make a quick attempt to kick sheets of paper and parts of clothes over them. I also slip some into my left pocket. They ask me through the back door if I know a certain man or had seen them and I say no. (I do not recall the name though I know it did not sound familiar.)

At one point, I notice that an unfamiliar female police officer is closest to our house. I also notice that the screen is torn down the middle from the top of the screen door, about three-quarters of the way down. (though we do not have a back screen door in reality.) She pushes it towards me from outside as if to draw more attention to it, almost slapping me in the face with it, but not intentionally. There is an additional partial horizontal tear in the screen (lower down) of less significance and which seems to have already been there for a long time, but this vertical tear was apparently done recently by the authorities, supposedly for my benefit and theirs regarding their stakeout. I find it puzzling but I do not comment. In a short time, my brother-in-law Bob makes his first appearance in this dream (mostly as he appeared in the 1980s). From the left side of the solid wooden back door, he closes it over the screen door (and it closes from the opposite side as in reality). “This door can be closed,” he says cheerfully though informatively. I question if his act is thought out very well, but I do not comment.

In the next scene, I am going to the front of our house. Off to my right, through the windows of the adjoining room I am walking through, the criminal first makes his presence known. He drives rapidly (north based on our present home) over our driveway, the car’s tires loudly crunching and spitting gravel and dust (the driveway of which our present home does not have as such, as it is just a very narrow side yard in reality, though, as mentioned in the second paragraph, this seems based on dynamics of when we lived in Clayfield on Gellibrand Street despite the room being like the one on Stadcor Street, though my dream’s house is at about ground level, unlike in reality for all three locations). This event makes no sense at all, as he is suddenly driving rapidly from our backyard, directly from where several police officers had just been standing. I wonder if they even noticed he was there.

In the front room of our house (which again, is now of the Stadcor Street house) I look out the front windows. Our front doors (screen door and main door) are both open. The criminal has come up our high front steps (despite our house being implied to be low-set a couple minutes previously) and I politely nod “hello” to him through the doorway even though I do not want his imposition. He has a scruffy beard and light red hair. I eventually notice that he is coming in and there are at least two females with him, one pregnant, though otherwise very slim and wearing tight clothes (this character being directly modeled after a contestant on the Australian “Family Feud” game show very recently).

I suddenly change my mind about welcoming him (which is based on a subliminal desire to sleep longer) and now I am not even sure what good the police presence is doing. I boldly tell him to get out. He becomes very angry. I notice that he is carrying some sort of rifle of illogical appearance. Instead of doing anything to me from near the doorway or even approaching me, he leaves the house to go into the street and starts shooting at our house. The noise is very loud and puffs of white smoke (dream state indicator) are floating everywhere like little clouds (this scene partly as a result of real-life environmental noise). I head towards the back of the house, which once again is more like our present home.

As illogically large bullets are now firing through the walls of our house from the front and the back, the female police officer (still near the back door) advises me to get down. I get down on the floor and wake up in the exact same position I had just been in my dream. I then realize that the police officer seemed modeled after an additional young version of Zsuzsanna.

---

This dream entry is probably too long to include a full decoding, but I will note a few details. Emergent consciousness and preconscious factors seem to be “after” each other here and I am (as my personified subconscious which again has no reflective cognitive capabilities despite the bizarre but popular disinformation) caught in the middle, which is amusing, but very atypical, though we did watch two episodes of “Cops” just before sleeping (though this is probably also related to news about North Korea, hopefully not prescient). The torn screen of the back door is a known dream state indicator, which represents a growing metaphorical opening that otherwise divides preconscious from emergent consciousness as a “screen”, though this is more about Zsuzsanna’s emergent consciousness “sending” to mine in real time. (As such, I am surprised that I did not become viably lucid, especially at least semi-lucid, though my dream did noticeably vivify past this point.)

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Morning of August 29, 2017. Tuesday.



My family and I as we appear now are living back in an altered version of Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. Over time, there are some abstract concepts of needing to remake part of our house (though it was actually an apartment) by switching two front wall sections. This mainly includes exchanging a wall with a window with an area where there is more plumbing (with two silver metal pipes).

I somehow manage to have this done (with no dream self memory regarding the physical dynamics of the act) whereby the walls have been exchanged. The room with the window is now closer to the entrance and the room with more plumbing is at the right (front of the building viewpoint).

At one point, I start to realize that, because the pipes come from the ground, it is not possible to connect them properly unless many adjustments are made and new parts are purchased. I look at the pipes coming up from the floor and see there is nothing they will presently connect to, as what they were meant to connect to is now in the other room.

I then decide that it is not feasible to rebuild the house with this orientation (again, relating to the pipes), so I undo it as if it never happened (though I wake up realizing I am on my right side instead of my left).

---

This was part of a longer series of dreams, including resets and partial repeats of this one, a few other dreams related to pipes, and a few unrelated dreams (all in all, about fifteen non-lucid and semi-lucid dreams on this particular date, which is not uncommon, not including the hundreds of hypnagogic sequences).

In this case, I was vaguely aware of my conscious mind creating my dream’s dynamics and symbolism (which is quite common and has remained one of the puzzles as to why other people do not seem to understand the meaning of their dreams).

Exchanging the walls directly relates to absentmindedly sleeping on my right side for a time instead of my left. I mostly only sleep on my left side as sleeping on my right sometimes causes indigestion and anxiety (one reason being that the stomach and its weight is naturally oriented to the left side of the body). The pipes in this dream relate to the digestive system (though in other dreams, depending on the dream type, can also relate to the circulatory system, the dynamics of dream induction and waking as directly related to the glymphatic clearance pathway, among other causes). The pipes in this dream were mainly in two locations from the floor, one lower than the other, which associates with one being symbolic of the esophagus and the other, the duodenum. The causal effect is based on the norovirus I had yesterday.

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Morning of August 29, 2017. Tuesday.



I am living with my family at an unknown residence. There are similar associations as with another dream of this date regarding plumbing and connecting pipes. However, in this dream, the pipes are mostly white plastic whereas in my other dream, they were silver metal.

The bottom of the house is about three feet above ground level. I am on the right side of the house, which may be loosely modeled after the one on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. I see that I need to reconnect at least two pipes, possibly more. One pipe has a different type of softer material that bends easily and is partially transparent. I notice that one pipe has an irregular hole as if cut at an angle and making somewhat of a triangular flap, its texture almost being like a bicycle tire. I put pressure on it to see how big the hole expands (to check how extensive the leak could be) and the pipe breaks in half.

I then consider that I need to buy a new connection. The connection is like a combination of about three pipes and the softer piece that now almost looks like a large sandwich bag tied around the area where two pipes connect at about a ninety-degree angle. There is another person present, unknown, yet who seems to be a friend who is watching me, possibly here to help.

An unknown younger male in the front yard of the house next door (to my left) comes over to annoy us. I tell him that he is trespassing and punch him in the face and stomach a few times. Illogically, I somehow do this while sitting cross-legged on the ground even though he is standing. He does not react at all.

I have had similar dreams (relating to pipes) all my life. Sometimes they have a completely different mood and essence than in other cases. I recently had one of trying to get water to containers in a miniature zoo within a three-tiered cage (“Plumbing Troubles in a Three-Tiered Miniature Zoo” of August 26, 2017).

I am going to have to assume that this dream relates to bad indigestion and stomach clenching related to a virus of yesterday that lasted about twenty-four hours. Generally, plumbing has been validated to mean at least four different things depending on the dream type; blood circulation of the real physical body (in real time, especially when a limb is going numb from a problematic sleeping position), the digestive system (including a need to rehydrate), a need to wake and use the bathroom, and neural energy patterns related to circadian rhythms based on a certain type of coalescence waking symbolism. Although the presence of the preconscious as an imposer seems to suggest coalescence waking symbolism (especially as I punch him to no avail), it seems more about healing the physical body and the digestive system in this case, especially considering the “plastic sandwich bag” association. This may be an incidental carryover of the miniature zoo dream but with a different meaning unless the zoo dream was considered as indirectly prescient. Otherwise, I have had many precognitive dreams related to my physical health since early childhood. Unlike other forms of prescience, it can possibly be explained by the body being “aware” of a potential condition before the conscious mind is, yet which sometimes occurs years in advance.

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