Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 26, 2017. Saturday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in an unknown residence that my dream self sees as ours. We have a large cage with three sections of equal size. Each section has the essence of an area in a zoo with miniature animals. The middle section has a few deer. The deer are no bigger than my hand. The cage is about as tall as I am.

At one point, I notice a small amount of water running down in a narrow stream. It seems to be meant to flow into a container for drinking water but it is just outside of the area I look at. I see that each section has an area for drinking water, but apparently each container is in a different area. I try to adjust something which changes the flow of the water. It seems unusual in that each built-in pipe seems slightly out of alignment to fill the container.

The running water changes each time to being near each of the three drinking areas for the animals as I adjust something near the top of the cage facing the room, but I do not see it working fully prior to waking.

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I had this dream after reading more about the glymphatic system. Flowing water typically relates to this process during sleep (as water dynamics relate directly to sleep dynamics as such), but as it is biological, cannot be controlled. The miniature animals then, are probably associated with astrocytes. Towards waking, there is less fluid flowing. Water (the main basis of dream state induction) getting lower over time has been common waking symbolism since early childhood. This is possibly another variation of it. Electrical activity of neurons synchronizes as we fall asleep, so this may be a form of subliminal reinduction (that is, an attempt to synchronize flow even though I have likely slept long enough), in which case a dynamic of my non-lucid dream self may be biological as in a number of past dreams. (This was not my last dream of the sleeping period and I fell into slow-wave sleep again.)

On a much simpler level, it may also be relating that one cannot drink water when one is asleep and thus eventually creates enough awareness of the self to initiate waking as the majority of dreams are designed to do in the last segment. Despite the pretense of “interpretation” by people who do not understand what dreams are (which includes the majority in my experience, even “experts”), dreams are inherently biologically designed to wake a person up and attend to environmental or biological needs (such as an unknown noise or a need to use the bathroom or to drink water), which is the most important neural process that exists. This does not mean they do not sometimes have other layers, such as prescience, transpersonal communication (which most people do not even believe in despite overwhelming evidence), deliberate lucid rendering, and “practice” events.

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Morning of August 25, 2017. Friday.



In the first part of my dream, I am mostly in the background (as a secondary character) watching high school students being questioned about drug usage and something to do with playing sports at times when sports are apparently not allowed (or at least relating to how the games are played), though this factor may be distorted as I am not focused on every detail. Apparently, every student in the school is being punished based on the actions and beliefs of only about four students. The events and interview scenes (which sometimes include two or three students) are not that vivid. The most vivid part is in the last segment of my dream, which in actuality is an offset dream that initiates the waking symbolism and also has the perspective of semi-lucidity.

I am in a mostly featureless room. It begins to have the essence of higher liminal space (closer to waking consciousness). An unusual version of Johnny Whitaker, the actor from “Family Affair”, walks into the room. It seems he is going to be either in an interview or some sort of publicity, perhaps even an acting role. (This is not certain.)

I recognize him as a celebrity. I call out “Jody!” He smiles and nods but does not move from his location near the doorway.

I am puzzled by his lack of initiation from my side, due to very vivid memories seemingly being present, but not quite within reach. “Jody!” I yell again.

His expression changes as if he suddenly gets it. “Buffy!” he yells and runs up to me as we hug. He then steps aside and speaks three phrases that sound like gibberish with a “sudsy” essence (as if gargling and speaking at the same time). However, he then clearly says “How are you?” and nods happily as I wake.

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Although this dream was typical coalescence waking symbolism (fairly common for me since childhood), there are some very eerie underlying layers, especially when looking at recent trends in my dreaming patterns.

Consider that I have not seen the episode of “Family Affair” that this dream is directly associated with since I was very young. Also, I have not actively thought of Johnny Whitaker or Anissa Jones as in “Family Affair” in many years. Anissa Jones died on August 28, 1976, three days from today’s date. Johnny Whitaker was born December 13, 1959, so is close to my age (though I was born on December 20, 1960).

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As a supplement, I will add details from three recent dreams that utilized coalescence waking symbolism:

“Socket Repair and my Mother and Classmates” of August 19, 2017. (Preconscious as former schoolmate Sam M and recognized as such).

“Fixing a Bridge (featuring Dean Norris)” of August 24, 2017. (Preconscious as actor Dean Norris, unrecognized as a celebrity.)

“Meeting Johnny Whitaker (coalescence waking symbolism)”, this dream entry’s dream, of August 25, 2017 (Preconscious as actor Johnny Whitaker, recognized as such.)

What is interesting is the one with Sam M, where I absentmindedly (and accidentally) punched him in the face, thinking he was a different former classmate. He then gives medical attention to my other arm (which in real life was cramping up as I slept.) The vividness of this dream was equal to the other two. It also turned out to have prescient threads (as most of my dreams do, but I do not always update them as such). In this case, with no way of me expecting it, he had posted a joke on Facebook within about a day after my dream. It was about a professor asking God directly for “proof of God” and ended with a soldier getting up and punching him, saying that God was busy protecting soldiers so he was sent. There is much more, but this entry is long enough.

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Morning of August 24, 2017. Thursday.



My dream begins with the most common form of dream state induction; the presence of water, in this case, an unknown river. (This is based on circadian biology and the glymphatic system, whereby at least one dream per night for over fifty years has featured water, not including the numerous water-based hypnagogic dream sequences, which number in the hundreds each sleeping period.)

I am standing and looking out over this unfamiliar river in seemingly late morning. There is a wooden bridge present, but it does not go all the way across the river. A helicopter flies in from my right and drops off a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna. My dream self is not fully aware of her identity, though I am uncertain of my dream self’s implied age. Zsuzsanna is on the outside of the two-tiered wooden railing, on my right and facing to the left in profile, appearing to do some work on it by tightening the bolts. I think about helping, but I am unsure how to get to where she presently is, as the walkway now seems fully underwater. This seems somewhat unusual, as I vaguely puzzle over why a railing would be fixed when the walkway itself is underwater. Another section of the bridge, which includes a ladder, is also submerged.

Time passes, and Dean Norris, the actor, appears. I do not see him as a celebrity but as a bystander, though possibly associated with the repair of the bridge.

Somehow, though this would certainly not be possible in real life (or even consciously resolvable in method), I lift a large section of the walkway up from the water, the farthest edge towards me, while I am still standing on the riverbank, though squatting slightly at one point. It seems more like a square platform constructed of small logs, the orientation of the logs parallel to the river bank.

An alligator, its head oriented opposite from the riverbank, surprises me by swimming out from under where the section was (yet there is a vague awareness of instinctual dream control suggesting that I created the alligator, and this is further evidenced by the alligator not being perceived as a danger or being the coalescence-based waking prompt). I am wary at first, but it does not attack or show much aggression. Instead, it swims back down under the surface. I tell Dean that there are other alligators in the river, though farther away from where we are. He does not comment.

“My father built this bridge,” I say to him, somewhat absentmindedly.

“Your dad built this bridge?” he replies without emotion.

“…and he built a lot of utility buildings,” I add.

I rethink what I had just said. Although I know that my father built a lot of park utility buildings, bathrooms, and rest stop shelters, I am unsure if he was involved in the building of this bridge as it was first constructed and that he may have only worked on it years after it was built. I consider that he may have been a part of a team of builders, but I then consider if the bridge had first been built in the 1800s (though I really have no knowledge of when it was built). If so, I consider if Dean was puzzled by my comment, but we do not talk much after this. I consider if Dean will bring in men in speedboats to cull the alligators, but this is not certain.

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Ordinarily, a bridge symbolizes the progression from dreaming to waking (as well as possibly representing the biological construction of a new memory or neural pathway) though sometimes seemingly represents a potentially prescient timeline. There seem to be two preconscious factors here (Dean and the alligator), both atypically passive (though this may be due to instinctual dream control). However, the dynamics are a bit curious, as Dean may be coalesced into the interconsciousness.

Submerged walkways are otherwise common in my dreams (and have been since early childhood) as a natural result of circadian biology and water symbolizing the dynamics of sleep in real time. A helicopter is a common symbol in my dreams that is linked to Merkaba energies and gamma brain waves in a similar way as a tornado often is, though it typically relates to “return flight” waking symbolism (though here it may relate to Zsuzsanna being in the waking stage while I remain asleep, seemingly validated by her arriving by helicopter, being on the outside of the railing and tightening it - becoming more aware in her emergent consciousness and outside of my ephemeral dream self incarnation).

I am not certain as to why the preconscious so often appears as a celebrity (sometimes recognized as themselves, sometimes recognized only as a fictional character they have played, sometimes as an ordinary person with no celebrity association as in this dream - there seems to be no determining factor as to why this is other than concurrent threads of available memory). It may be due to the transpersonal element or how the preconscious is completely different from the conscious self identity (though this seems deliberate to subliminally begin to initiate dream state realization in how neither the dream self nor conscious self is anything at all like the preconscious - which often creates conflict or emotional augmentation of enough energy to trigger waking).

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Morning of August 23, 2017. Wednesday.



Considering that I neither smoke nor use drugs (even legal medication), this was a rather impersonal dream on some levels, but with the typical preconscious initiation symbolism as since early childhood.

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I discover two large marijuana cigarettes in a drawer, which I am aware belong to my older half-brother Dennis. Completely unlike my waking self mentality, I am actually thinking of smoking both of them (though this is about subliminal dream state revivification rather than having any waking life relevance). Still, when Dennis shows up, I pretend that they should be shared with him. Curiously, he says he does not indulge in such acts anymore.

For what seems to be a long time, I stand near the end of the Cubitis driveway near Highway Seventeen. It seems to be late at night. I feel very good. I smoke one of the cigarettes, being clearly aware of the odd way the smoke and fire spreads out from it.

Eventually, a team of at least four men show up during what seems to be the next day. Apparently, they are here to search the house for drugs. The main one, the personified preconscious, whose job is to make me realize I am dreaming and thus should wake (to attend to important biological needs), is a chubby unfamiliar man with a gray beard. My mother is present in some scenes, mostly appearing as she was in the 1970s. I have no recall that she had died in 2002.

In another scene, the men are in a meeting in the house. I find a large box which contains sweet grass in a few different forms as well as several other herbs, some braided. I consider that they might see the plants as illegal drugs but this is not the case. They know it is sweet grass and even discuss how useful it is.

In another scene, the preconscious brings out a tackle box from somewhere. He seems to believe that he may find drugs in it (though the real purpose is obviously to get me to think about fishing, which symbolizes activating neural energies to arise from sleep). This angers me somewhat. Still, when he opens it, there are two large globs of stale cat food, though he does not seem to know what it is at first and expresses disgust. I inform him that it is cat food and that the tackle box had not been opened for many years. (As a cat has been validated to be some sort of “guardian” of liminal space as first determined in dreams when I was about five years old, this suggests I am still subliminally attempting to sustain my dream in unusual ways by having supposedly “hidden the cat food for many years” so as to halt a particular shift in consciousness. There is sometimes a subliminal hypnopompic association as well, based on “cats always land on their feet” to downplay the waking start that often includes a falling sensation of which is biological and has no waking life relevance.)

In one of the last scenes, I decide to go into the bathroom, as I still have a joint in my right pants pocket (though no one has checked me thus far) and I plan to stay in here until they leave (and this is likely an awareness of needing to wake and use the bathroom, but the urge is not yet that dominant). While I am in here, the shadow of the preconscious is cast through a window (which suggests he is closer to coalescing as my emergent consciousness). I stand near a different wall, but I still suspect he is watching me and I start yelling at him about spying on people, telling him I will call the FBI, which he seems to find amusing.

The emergent consciousness factor shifts back into subliminal reinduction as the preconscious is now clearly in view through another window. He comes into the house again and I consider that they may go through every container in the house no matter how long it takes. Before I see the preconscious inside the house again, I go into a room that is similar to our oldest son’s room in the Barolin Street house. I drop the joint down a vertical opening between the wall boards (at about elbow level) oriented to the right of the room on the north wall. The tip is barely visible. Perhaps they will not find it, but it still seems a possibility. (Note that a wall symbolizes real-time divisions of neural energy patterns and the more defined division between levels of consciousness. This validates the basic real-time subliminal theme of this dream.)

Getting tired of the presence of the preconscious (and only knowing what his presence indicates at a subliminal level), I stab him numerous times with a dagger (which validates non-lucid dream control as this is something I would not think about consciously in a real-life situation as such unless my life or a family member’s was directly threatened). There is a lot of blood; so much blood that there seems to be more blood than physical volume of his body. Soon, the other officials enter the room and look down casually at the remains. “Well, that didn’t work,” says one male, “He’s still not awake.”

They perform some sort of ritual to resurrect him. His remains transform into some sort of computer console as from the 1950s though I am aware it is female. The men watch the screen and I see a young version of Zsuzsanna walking around, but what this implies does not fully register. (A computer typically represents increasing neural activity in the waking stage as the unconscious does not possess viable thinking skills). I am not sure if they had intended to change him into a female computer console or not. Maybe it happened randomly, but they do not seem puzzled. They turn dials and study the actions of Zsuzsanna on the monitor. “Neural activity increasing,” says the male watching the console while the other two stand around. There is a list of Hz values on the right, the top one being 22 Hz (supposed intelligence enhancement). (Zsuzsanna was awake at the time in reality and had been walking around in the house.)

Then…I am in an unknown room at a table in a less vivid offset dream, sitting with most of my dream’s characters. I am drinking grape juice and notice that I have “hidden” the joint in the glass. It illogically remains in a vertical position near one side of the glass. (There may be an association with attempting to drink through a paper straw, which always irritated me in real life.) I tell them that I do not really care much about the taste of what I am drinking and my dream fades. (Almost all of us wake up with a strange flavor in our mouths. Your tongue accumulates a series of bacteria stored overnight.)

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Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday.



In my dream, there is an unfamiliar library I go to, which takes the place of where the King Cinema had been in real life. I am also living at the King Street mansion (boarding house) not as I was years ago in reality, but with my family as we appear now.

My dream starts with me leaving the apartment. I walk westerly down King Street. The library is only a few blocks away. I am carrying, in a backpack, a computer keyboard, a flat monitor, and two small unknown devices (each about the size of an iPhone but thicker and one with a curved bottom) related to computer technology which apparently store data and may be additionally used for other purposes.

In the library, I delete a list of URLs, one at a time, from one device for the purpose of clearing memory. I sit at a small table near the left end of one row of shelves. I do not question why the computer keyboard and monitor are all I have (with the two other small devices) to apparently do some work on my computer.

Water begins to drip from various areas of the library’s ceiling. I become annoyed, because one of the devices I am looking at goes blank and the screen is apparently ruined by water. An unfamiliar young female librarian assures me that it will work normally again when it dries. She pushes against me a bit from behind and I am slightly annoyed by this, as it makes it more difficult to type freely.

It starts to rain more and more inside the library. I tell them that buildings in Australia sure leak a lot, adding how where my family lives now has leaks, a few near the foot of our bed. I compare them to the houses I lived in in America. This is very flawed dream-self memory as usual, as the setting is implied to be in America. Somehow, even though I perceive that I “still” live in America on King Street, I am also seemingly aware of where we live now (in referring to the leaks in our present home). There is no way to consciously resolve this distortion, as, when I leave the library near the end of my dream, I am walking easterly back towards the King Street mansion (in America) in the rain, yet with the feeling I am in Australia. There is no aspect of bilocation of the two buildings, so it is just some sort of oddly skewed parallel thinking that only the dream self can maintain.

I decide to move to another location and sit down on the floor in an informal meditation position. It is closer to one corner near the main entrance. There is a male to my right who reminds me of classmate Bill W. All three of my devices with screens eventually become ruined. Bill talks to me a bit about some sort of research. Several other people are around, a few even reading books in the indoor rain.

I rub the surface of one of the devices. The screen is more like transparent glass by this point. Inside the device, which seems somewhat hollow, I see pieces of leaves and a few small stones and sand that I consider somehow got inside over the past few minutes. I am annoyed that I will apparently have to buy new computer devices.

I realize that, even though I am wearing a long-sleeved sweater (which goes down a bit below my waist), I do not have any pants on. I also have no shoes and am only wearing dark socks. The fact I do not have shoes annoys me more than not having any pants on, since I do not like the idea of walking on a cold wet granular sidewalk with only socks on. I ask Bill if I had come into the library with shoes on, though he seems not to know, and I am uncertain if I did.

Eventually, I leave the library to go home. I am firstly walking, then I start running in an exaggerated manner. My “running” becomes stranger, similar to the movement of The Spirit in the 2008 movie when he runs on the telephone wires. (We saw this movie just prior to my dream.) It feels like I am kicking sand out from the back of my feet as I am oddly moving along. Eventually, I reach the King Street boarding house, and there are some more dream elements, though which become abstract.

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Raining indoors is a sort of forced symbolism based on the dream state itself, biologically related to a process that occurs during sleep (which I have described more fully in other entries). The library represents potential for conscious self awareness (and critical thinking skills), but the circadian rhythms factor holds my dream in the deeper phase. Being undressed in public, which is a subliminal dream-state indicator (as I do not wear clothes when sleeping) has rarely bothered me. (In fact, I am more embarrassed in some dreams when wearing clothes, as in real life, I do not like to be seen as wearing clothes in bed.) It is no coincidence that I am often undressed in public in a library, as these are two common dream-state indicators (dream signs) for me, especially as in sensual lucid dreams, when I deliberately initiate this situation. (This is additionally validated by the library being where the movie theater was in real life, a movie theater otherwise symbolizing subliminal acknowledgement of the dream state.) The association with “The Spirit” movie, where he runs on telephone wires, even though I am on the sidewalk in my dream, is based on increasing neural energy and communication between different layers of consciousness during the waking transition.

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Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday.



I am in the middle room on the east side of the King Street mansion (where I have not been in real life in over twenty years). It is not known if I am living there though, as there is an unknown male in the bed, which is out from the east wall. It seems to be late at night.

I am aware of a supposed haunting, but there is no concern or fear of any kind. In fact, I make sarcastic remarks to the unseen ghost and screech several times. After time passes, the unseen ghost screeches louder than me. The unknown male and I are somewhat amused.

Still, I am trying to get the ghost to show itself. The room has a fictional feature. There is a closet to the left of the door, but this feature would not be possible in real life as there is a hall directly behind that wall. At one point, the landlady looks in to see what is going on.

There are two small wooden shelves near the top of the closet. The ghost seems to be on the top shelf. I see signs of it a few times, but just a little.

Two unknown girls come into the room. One reminds me of Linda Cardellini as Velma from 2002’s “Scooby-Doo” and the other, Annie Potts as Janine Melnitz from 1984’s “Ghostbusters”. Both are to my left, Linda being closer.

I tell them to watch as I bring the ghost out from hiding by commanding it to appear. On the left of the upper closet shelf, a small circle of white material appears. Time passes, and the “ghost” emerges. It looks like a series of small balls covered with a handkerchief as it moves down to the bottom shelf and moves to the right somewhat like a caterpillar in a sort of undulating motion.

Linda makes a comment about it possibly being a “flaw in the film” as if we were watching a movie instead of a real feature in the room. My dream fades from this point.

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Zsuzsanna and I watched “Ghosts of Darkness” (2017) last night, where a main scene involved two men watching a door to a closet and attempting to expel a large demon from an old mansion. This enjoyable comedic dream is all that resulted. There have been a number of other dreams where dream characters talked about dreams or features or events in a dream as if they were movies. I find this very interesting, as it may be a thread of my conscious self expressing this major sentiment about dreams through another dream character, especially as it is usually said near the end of a dream. A movie theater or stage has also been a subliminal dream-state indicator in a number of my dreams.

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Morning of August 19, 2017. Saturday.



I am in an ambiguous new composite setting (as all dream settings are one-of-a-kind since early childhood), which seems to align the front (northernmost) room where I use my computer (at our present address) with the Cubitis southwest bedroom (so that the main north windows from our present address are directly associated with the Cubitis southwest bedroom’s south windows, though also present are that bedroom’s west windows as defined easterly, which otherwise have no association with our present address). It does not have the usual essence of bilocation, only an unusual atypical blended association and awareness.

There are threads of liminal dream state awareness but no active lucidity from my dream self’s viewpoint. Zsuzsanna is present at times. In the main scene, it seems to be late at night.

I had been going through, in my mind, a set of patterns relating to the dream state. I consider how certain rules or symbolism has remained the same all my life. There are three main ones I had been writing about, but I do not recall what they were, though I think one was specifically related to directional orientation regarding dream features.

I am in the room and a cardboard box containing some of my older dream journals is present on the floor. There does not seem to be the presence of other discernible features. The top of the box is partly open. As I turn to face the windows, I vividly feel a cold wind flow over my back and I am aware it has somehow come from the open cardboard box. I am puzzled and consider that the wind should have come into the room from the windows, though I still consider closing the box more securely. I remain puzzled, standing in the semidarkness, and slowly wake. (In real life, it was very windy outside at the time. The sound probably altered the rendering of my dream in an illogical way as has happened many times before with environmental sounds, body position, movements, and tactile sensations. In this case, my dream self was looking out the window vaguely aware of the sound of wind, while my real physical body probably simultaneously felt a cool spot on my back unrelated to wind.)

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Early evening of August 19, 2017. Saturday.



I am in an unknown residence but my dream self does not perceive it as unknown. My mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is present and appearing as she was in the early 1970s. It seems I am only a boy, perhaps around thirteen. Still, I am working with a computer (and of course I had no home computer at that age in the 1970s).

A relative (Valerie) comes up near the left of the table as I am typing and says something I do not fully hear. She goes very close to the left side of the computer monitor. After a short time, I see that the headphone jack has pulled out and I have a false memory that it was a very sensitive (easily wrecked) setup. I tell her to go away as I then try to fix it. She yells at her father (David) that every time she listens to him, she gets into trouble. Apparently, she had been relaying something he had said. (The presence of these two characters is illogical, implying a completely different time period than the other characters).

I become very frustrated as I am trying to work out how to get the jack and socket to work again. The original headphone jack is of the small size, with an adapter of a large jack size fitting over it before going into the socket on the left side of the computer monitor. (This is an unfamliar setup never used in reality.) A few times I think I have it as it should be to work, but pieces come apart and the wires do not touch. There is one point where the smaller jack is just a singular loose tiny cylinder. I notice a number of jacks and socket rings on the table. The ones I need to more conveniently push it all together do not seem to be present.

I become so annoyed I say that I am about to throw the computer away and give up on everything (and not work with computers again). My mother looks on.

Soon, I feel vivid touches on my left shoulder and top of my head, as if someone is trying to comfort me as I sit near the table. I look up and see a large chubby and unrealistically bizarre female face grinning at me. I recognize her as a former classmate (Laurie P) who I never talked to much, though she has darker hair in my dream.

“Oh no, get away from me you horrid ugly…” I say clearly. I am not sure if I have even offended her. She slowly leaves the table without seeming upset. I consider that many other schoolmates may no longer be friendly towards me if they hear of my behavior, but I am not that concerned about it. (There is a vague thought of being unfriended by some of them on Facebook, but this makes no sense in light of the time period I perceive myself in.)

I eventually seem to have most of the small parts together, but it may not work. Still, I put the jack back into the replaced socket. Bare wires are still everywhere. As I sit down, I sense movement to my left. I end up punching someone in the left cheek with my right fist. The sense of touch and momentum is very realistic. It turns out to be a young version of Sam M, another schoolmate. I immediately apologize, saying that I thought he was David (another schoolmate, not the David mentioned earlier). I mention how I thought he might have been drinking and Sam says that David is sitting in another area of the large room and had in fact been drinking.

Sam seems to be doing something with my left arm, apparently some sort of medical attention, though I do not recall hurting it. (He seems an odd composite of child and man.) I tell Sam that I hope my punch does not leave a mark. That part of his face is only slightly red. Meanwhile, I notice that my computer monitor’s speakers are hissing but additionally, the normal audio seems to be coming out of both the headphones (on the table) and the computer speakers. (This is due to subliminal awareness of real sound, as our television is on in the next room.)

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Attempting to fix the jack and socket relate to subliminally trying to achieve consciousness by increasing neural activity while in the dream state. Sam’s attention to my left arm relates to the fact that it had a slight ache from having slept on it up to this point (which I am not aware of while still in my dream).

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It is the purpose of the preconscious to wake the dreamer or at least bring attention to the nature of the dream state in real time. Sometimes the preconscious is rendered as a snake to more quickly wake the dreamer with more emotion (such as when my arm has gone numb or is getting pins and needles, though was also a cobra biting my thumb in a dream when I was having pain in my thumb from surgery). There may be other factors, as the preconscious is not always personified as in this dream (Sam). The fact that I am in a dream in early evening likely explains why the preconscious is not as dominant in this case, as I had not entered a longer sleep cycle. (The first appearance as Laurie did not create enough emotion to rise from the dream state. Even my punching Sam in the face only initiated the augmentation of physical awareness to a greater extent and with additional perception of momentum, but it began the needed transition as he doctored my arm.)

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Morning of August 18, 2017. Friday.



I seem to be in bed with Zsuzsanna. However, our bed seems to be in the backyard of our present home with our heads oriented south (with the same left and right orientation as we are sleeping in reality). It is full daylight out. Still, there is an odd sense of bilocation of which is not defined in the usual way.

A boy of about ten years old comes into our backyard a few times from our neighbor’s backyard. He is unknown and unfamiliar, though implied to be the neighbor’s son (though this “neighbor” is also an unknown character). I display a bit of anger and aggression and he goes back each time, somehow going over the fence, though it seems somewhat like the old metal fence that was not very high. He has a somewhat condescending nature.

My awareness shifts and my dream changes orientation. Now our bed is in the Loomis Street living room, our heads west, opposite the front entrance. Once again, the boy is imposing by coming in through the front door, which may have been left open. I do not express much anger.

His father, an unknown chubby male of about thirty and with red hair, also comes in through the door as if he had been uncertain as to where his son had gotten off to. I nod and I do not express any anger at the imposition of either, almost as if their ridiculous intrusions do not matter at this point. The other man seems friendly and calm.

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Nothing relevant to waking life (on a personal level) is to be found here; just the usual dreaming and waking symbolism, here rendered as doorway waking symbolism, though in many cases, a distorted rendering of the emergent consciousness, mixed in with dynamics of the preconscious (sometimes as a “monster”) remains within a doorway rather than viably using a door or doorway.

I can only guess that these two unknown characters were related to unconsciously perceiving (remote viewing) random unknown people in the area as I was sleeping, the boy linked into the transpersonal stream via the preconscious while his father linked to the emergent consciousness, a dynamic that has often occurred in past dreams. The fence is a clue, as a fence symbolizes a division in levels of consciousness within the dream state and of course our being in bed is simply an indicator of being in the dream state.

It has remained obvious through tens of thousands of dreams for over fifty years, that the transpersonal preconscious stream integrates found personas that are the least like the conscious self identity, for that is the only real way, excluding willing coalescence, that the dream self attains enough emotion (through aggravation, conflict, or other emotions) to come out of the dream state under many conditions. Otherwise, the “ripples” of neural energy are unlikely to increase and the dreamer would remain in the dream. Waking and waking prompts are a biological necessity, yet most of humanity does not even come close to grasping the simplest concepts concerning dreams or their purpose or meaning.

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Morning of August 18, 2017. Friday.



I become aware that I am some sort of informal prison guard, yet I also apparently live with the prisoners, though atop a mostly featureless vertically-oriented rectangular prism with only a large mattress present.

The size-orientation relating to perspective is oddly distorted, as the prisoners seem only about one-fourth the size they should be relative to distance. I do not really consider this distortion as such while in my dream.

It is apparently my job, or at least my turn, to feed the prisoners who begin to gather far below. I have a large bag of chocolate Chex cereal. I throw down the pieces in small amounts as the prisoners gather to eat with their hands (as there are no bowls or silverware visible).

Looking around, I notice a prisoner casually walking out a main door into a hall. I do not call out or say anything, though I am not fully sure of the situation. An unfamiliar female guard notices this but does not get to them in time, so I assume that the prisoner has escaped. This seems to happen again later with a different prisoner who goes through a door in another area, perpendicular to the first.

In the last scene, a couple other prisoners are somehow atop the prism near me. I seem to be ready to sleep now. I feel the other male is a bit too close to me, but I do not say anything. He does not seem a threat, but his physical presence is somewhat intrusive.

---

This seems partly based on our youngest daughter accidentally spilling part of a bowl of Coco Pops Chex cereal onto Zsuzsanna from above and behind prior to sleeping. Zsuzsanna immediately got up to have a shower and there were Coco Pops Chex pieces here and there on the way to the bathroom and in the bathroom. Still, an additional association may be because they are somewhat cushion-shaped (as a subliminal dream state indicator). There may also be some sort of connection between “prism” and “prison”, as they sound similar.

Atypically, the personified unconscious seems to be the female prison guard - which is the opposite of the preconscious (though the unconscious does not usually appear to deliberately hold a dreamer in the dream state, which seems rather strange to me other than for circadian rhythms factors). This dream seems to otherwise move towards typical doorway waking symbolism (as did another dream of this date though also atypically), except that my emergent consciousness seems to be projected from a distance (“escaping” twice) due to my direct perspective (as the personified subconscious aka dream self) already perceiving that I am in bed and lying down atop the prism. Ambiguous multiplicity has occurred a number of times before in waking symbolism.

This is certainly not the first time I have been elevated above the rest of my dream’s setting, which simply means that I am closer to waking in a rendering of liminal space (often with increased physical awareness as in this case). In this case, it is even more obvious as I am already “back in bed”.

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Morning of August 17, 2017. Thursday.



I am in an unknown room with mostly only a large square wooden table. I seem to be in a movie that is being filmed in real time. Two other characters are Batman and Robin as from the 1960s television series. It seems we may have been kidnapped and are being held hostage. A couple unknown males are also present but I am not sure of any backstory. There are a few items in the room which may have been sabotaged. Batman and I mostly sit on the table at first while Robin is standing.

There is a point at which Robin follows my index finger in some sort of swaying dance to follow my lead even though I do not seem to be a main character in this movie, perhaps not even being filmed while Batman and Robin are. Still, I hold my right arm up, my index finger pointing upwards, and I move my arm side to side as if I were defining a downwards-oriented semicircle in a sort of pendulum-like definition or as if I am conducting an orchestra. It feels extraordinarily vivid though I am not lucid and it goes on for several minutes. Robin changes his facial expressions to apparently follow my cues as such. He is standing on the table and sort of half-dancing, half-swaying, seemingly professional but almost as if hypnotized.

At one point, Batman has an oversized pair of black squarish plastic binoculars. Like other items, I suspect that they have been booby-trapped by the Riddler or the Joker. He decides not to use them and puts them down on the table. I then notice an unusual bat come out of them (they seem to be hollow now), which may be venomous and may have bitten Batman on his nose if he had looked through the binoculars. The bat’s upper body and wings are like a bat, but the rest of it has the look of a silverfish, except it is all black. It crawls around as I notice this silverfish-like bottom part of this “bat”. I consider that it seems of very odd appearance to be a bat, but soon realize that it is likely of a particular species and so thus is not unusual at all.

Somehow, we all escape. I end up going out the back door of our present house into our backyard. I no longer see Batman and Robin. I notice three bats of mostly normal appearance to the left of the door and standing with wings out on the external bathroom window sill. They all appear to have Mohawk hairstyles. They are arranged in a triangular orientation, as if in the orientation of a water-skiing stunt, two on the bottom, and one on the top with a foot on each of the other’s shoulder.

I step out through our gate, though instead of the street view, it is an alley with a high wooden fence on the opposite side (which my dream self does not consider wrong). An astounding energy and vividness develops as the Batmobile goes by to my right, to the north. It looks like a far more modern Batmobile; like the V10 Lamborghini Batmobile. I feel fantastic enjoyment as I watch it pass, looking at all the details. There appears to be another car in front of it, about a car distance ahead, which I feel is an unmarked police car from the 1970s.

From here, a train passes from the north to the south. Near the other side of the alley are a set of railroad tracks. I am aware that this must be a scene from the movie to appear differently in the movie than the overall event is being seen. The train, which seems already half-destroyed, rolls on the tracks, rotating sideways as with the essence of a corkscrew or manual drill, as the tracks seem to be pulled to the south by some sort of machine, as parts of the train and what is left of it get smaller and smaller as it goes by, and the tracks being pulled along by the unseen machine until they are not present. I can vividly feel the vibrations in the ground in my feet and lower legs. I am briefly somewhat wary of this event being so close to our house (though I mistakenly perceive that it is close to fictional parts of our house to the south and it now seems I am looking out from a long apartment block). Still, I trust the movie studio knows what it is doing and I am confident that there is no threat at all.

---

From experience, this dream may be telling me that, in exactly one year (on August 17, 2018), I will be meeting someone who played Robin in a movie, possibly in a public place such as a shopping mall (or a wayward visitor to my front door). I say this mostly based on two features, one, the appearance of three bats, which relate to long-term precognition (and in fact appeared in a dream with several layers of precognition about Zsuzsanna long before I knew she was a real person), secondly, another dream character seeming “hypnotized” by me in an eerie dance and following my cues or influence appeared in the sole dream I had of Charlie Pride - and I met him in real life exactly one year to the date after my dream. I may be wrong regarding the dynamics of this dream, but it will take a year to see if it manifests as such. (Then again, concerning the presence of the three bats, it could be many years from now to the date as with my prescient dreams about Zsuzsanna.) So, if I meet Burt Ward on August 17, 2018, you read it here first (though it may prove to be a different Robin, as Burt is now 72 years old, then again, it might even be a different person named Burt Ward, hard to say with prescience sometimes being skewed).

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Early evening of August 15, 2017. Tuesday.



I am in an unfamiliar unknown setting, though it is implied to be a room in our present home. There is an unfamiliar tall chest of drawers against a west wall. It has a pale wooden design. There are five drawers.

Atop this chest of drawers, in about the center, is a gumball machine. The main concept is that this feature is somehow able to manifest new items in any of the drawers at certain times, more so, every drawer simultaneously, though this materialization of items like new clothes, comic books, paperback novels, games, perhaps even food items, still seems based on needing to insert a coin in the gumball machine.

I am vaguely aware of the events and the materialization, though I seem to be aware of seeing events as simulated without being directly involved, as the drawers open and close on their own a few times. I am wondering how many coins I have to activate this machine. There is no backstory or indication on what will materialize at a specific time or how to specify what one wants (though perhaps it is based on which coin is used). It may be thought-based, as such a dream implies non-lucid dream control as it is.

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Morning of August 14, 2017. Monday.



In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar location though which is similar to an area on French Island that I last saw over twenty years ago. It seems to be an area where motorcycle races are being held, though they may be meant to be dirt bikes. A few stunts occur. It seems to be afternoon at first.

Billy Connolly is known as a champion based on previous races. I do not recall his real-life status as a comedian at all. It is known that he is a werewolf, though this is not something that seems negative to any greater extent. He does not seem dangerous. He seems to be perhaps fifty.

The race track is near the perimeter of a dense forest. There are many members of the public present at times, but not other times throughout the series of competitions. At one point, seemingly towards evening but when it is not yet dark out, Billy inexplicably transforms into a wolf, leaving his motorcycle near the middle of the track, which is slightly muddy. It seems to be his choice.

He runs off to my right into the dense forest. Some people watch and it is believed he may not become human again or ever leave the forest.

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Morning of August 9, 2017. Wednesday.



I become aware that I am babysitting an unfamiliar boy of about four years of age in the northeast area of the Cubitis living room. I perceive myself as being about twenty-five years old. It feels like it might be late morning. I have no associations with whomever the boy’s parents might be.

The dreamer does not realize that he has not lived in Cubitis since 1978, leaving when he was seventeen. He also does not recall that he lived in Wisconsin when he was twenty-five, not Florida. The memory of his three sons (and two daughters) does not seem extant, though the presence of the unfamiliar boy, who does not resemble any of his sons, may be a subliminal clue, though he otherwise has no memory of who he presently really is.

There is a huge Raggedy Ann doll sitting against the north wall near the northeast corner of the living room. I have a notion that the giant stuffed doll is somehow a mother figure for the boy. It almost reaches the ceiling. The head is unrealistically large in proportion to the rest of the doll. Time passes, and the head seems flatter (front to back) than it should be. The doll begins to sag and lean forward and the boy and I are annoyed that this oversized pie-like head may cover us. I have to push it back a few times, but when I do, the whole doll, especially the head, seems slightly thinner.

The dreamer still does not have viable memory. He does not question why a giant doll would be perceived as a “real” mother by the boy or comfort him as such. He does not even consider simply moving out of the way of the doll when it leans forward at times. He does not consider why the doll’s head gets vertically flatter when there is no discernible reason for the change. Perhaps he is subliminally aware of the weight of the blanket on his real physical body as he sleeps, and perhaps through the veil of sleep, he indirectly recalls that his youngest daughter has stuffed toys near her as she sleeps. Could this hodgepodge of current neural energy while sleeping be why such a scene is rendered? He also did have concern that his youngest son had enough blankets prior to sleeping. As a doll symbolizes the physical inactivity of someone while in the dream state, it likely is a very distorted thread of memory of his beautiful wife Zsuzsanna, combined with thoughts of his pillow that sometimes seems too flat.

Eventually, I notice that much of the oversized ragdoll is now more like a collection of blankets that fall forward at times, a couple that cover me, though I think the doll is still sitting there. It seems ambiguous, and the round face itself seems more and more like a large flat pillow I push back several times. It does not seem cold. I do not think that the boy will be harmed, only perhaps annoyed by being covered like this. After a few minutes, I am aware that Dennis (half-brother on my mother’s side) is coming into the house. He seems about thirty years old and is dressed like a biker. He wants to show me something. It seems the boy will be okay on his own, though I somehow perceive that Dennis has no interest in the boy’s well-being. I go with him for a short distance after leaving the house. I then decide to fly. Coming out from the house, it is now the King Street boarding house. I effortlessness fly north over Tenth Street South, leaving Dennis behind for now.

The dreamer’s brother had not been to Florida since 1970. Like every other dream feature, it is erroneous, completely removed from any correct timeline. Even more curiously, he walked out from the north end of the open carport in Florida yet simultaneously from the closed porch of the King Street boarding house, not regarded in real life much since 1990 and over 1,500 miles away from the original setting. There is no measure of distance in thought, but that is moot, as the two buildings were somehow perceived as being the same. The dreamer often flies in his dreams as if it was a perfectly natural thing to do. To take to the air to get somewhere else is what he has done often for many years in both lucid and non-lucid dreams, without considering physics or gravity. There is no doubt, but the dream self is not the conscious self, and the rules that dictate that flying cannot be as such do not apply, even if there was some subliminal memory that it was not possible.

I end up in some sort of forest on the other side of La Crosse, which I perceive may be several blocks west of Loomis Street. After walking around and entering a denser area of forest by way of a footpath, I notice that Dennis is already here. He talks to a seemingly homeless person in dark apparel. The unfamiliar scruffy male is sitting at the side of the path, facing outwards from the dense trees. Dennis seems annoyed and may be impatient about something. It has something to do with the other male not owning a motorcycle as he is expected to. There is no fighting, just a conversation. It seems the other male may have sold or lost his motorcycle and is now living in the woods. I walk around and see another clear footpath that leads straight through the densest part of the forest. It seems to be afternoon and the imagery is very clear and beautiful. The path leads east and seems to continue for quite a distance. I can see an open area at the very end that indicates an urban area. Still, after walking around, I decide to fly again.

The dreamer does not question this fictional area of land. The area in real life would be within the same area as the Northside Elementary School (though the area looks much different now than when he last lived there in February 1994). He does not ask himself how Dennis apparently walked there and got there before him.

As I am flying, my focus changes somewhat. I see below me, something that is almost like a life-sized map, showing how the area originally appeared. It was mostly a marshy expanse with no trees for a long time. This changes, as Dennis had planted a number of saplings over time, until it was a dense forest. Curiously, I am aware that no one else, including members of the city council, ever noticed this change other than Dennis and a few biker friends of his. I watch the changes in the map as I turn and fly south.

Looking down on a slowly animated life-sized map superimposed over the bird’s-eye view of the land below does not seem unusual to the dreamer. It is like a visual historical view displaying the changes over time, not following the rules of real-life perception. He does not fly back down to investigate or consider that if he did, he might be in the original treeless marsh as it supposedly was years previously.

I am now aware that it is nighttime even though it had been afternoon moments before. I do not find the change unusual. I am aware of a missile lighting up a small area of the sky to the north, over what I perceive may be a small island, but I still consider it as a threat even though it seems far away. My wife Zsuzsanna now joins me as we run southward. The buildings around us start to shake. They seem to wobble and waver unrealistically, somewhat like exaggerated jelly motions. I think we can escape. We run over the tops of buildings, over the roofs of commercial buildings of various heights, no attention to how tall they are. It seems effortless but annoying. I get the idea to take cover in a boiler room of a commercial building. I sense the ceiling may collapse, but it does not, though there is still shaking. We end up near a breaker panel. I have a fading idea about possibly resetting the main breaker, as if that might somehow make the building more suitable to hide in.

The dreamer’s memory seems more viable now as he recalls Zsuzsanna. There is even a thread of recent memory about North Korea’s missile launches, but little else. His focus on the breaker panel reveals a subliminal awareness of the neural energy within his mind, yet not fully realizing why this thought emerges in the last seconds of his dream or whether it symbolizes “deactivating” his dream, increasing his neural energy and expansion into whole consciousness, or both.

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Morning of August 7, 2017. Monday.

Dream #: 18,494-02. Reading time: 2 min 40 sec.



I am sitting on the floor near the southeast corner of the living room in the Cubitis house. The layout is different. My attention is on the front door and a fictitious area north of the kitchenette.

I am aware of my father on the carport (though I do not see him). (My dream self does not remember he died in 1979.) He does not enter the house. He slides several objects under the door (which would have been impossible in reality). I see them as well as hear their movement. There are at least three open-end wrenches, presumably different sizes from a set. There are other items, like a couple of flat pieces of metal. I think he wants me to put them in the hallway closet, as he no longer has space for them in the shed.

I have two irregular stones that seem more like crystals at times. Although mostly opaque, they sometimes seem transparent, becoming glassy when I tap them together. Some facets are reflective and shiny. They have a bluish tint for the most part, though I notice that one looks gold at a later point.

I think I can make a fire. I strike one stone against the other, sometimes doing this when one is on the floor, other times while holding them. They sparkle, and some areas catch fire.

Light gray tendrils of smoke and small flames are the results at least four times. I get a folded piece of notebook paper and hold it near one stone as I hit it with the other, and they burn for a time. The paper catches fire.

An orange tabby cat no longer than my hand rests on my right near a burnt area of the floor. It moves a short distance from the smoke and flames. The small fire is close to it but does not hurt it. Its tail traverses an area of the floor that had burnt moments before. It does not show signs of fear or injury.

---

Dreams are mainly a result of co-occurrence with the status of being in the dream state, resulting from subliminal environmental monitoring, enigmatic space, and autosymbolic waking processes.

My dream self sometimes instinctually starts a fire to activate consciousness, a goal stemming from the status of being in the dream state (and being instinctually aware of being asleep), NOT a factor from waking life. My extent of dream control has no association with being “lucid.” My brief dream self identity is not a model of waking life identity. In this case, there is no recall my father had died. There is in other dreams, a factor unrelated to the implied time or any recent thoughts I may have held in waking life. It is because, in subliminal space, my dream self does not have practical access to either my unconscious mind (or its legitimate memories) or my real identity.

This dream also includes wall mediation (another regular event of being in the dream state, NOT a cause from waking life status). A wall (and related features like doors, windows, and fences) is a concurrent virtual division of various levels of liminal space and enigmatic space, though is more likely with an environmental factor like less intrusive noise. The tools from under the door are another association with achieving consciousness, of which the preconscious (reticular activating system) is the foremost dynamic.

The stones become transparent when closer to initiating consciousness (starting the fire) to remind me my dream is an illusion but still controllable by instinct.

Cats sometimes appear with wall mediation (with many specific examples of this in my dream journal), as a virtual anchor in liminal space; and in childhood, a summoned virtual witness to the dream state when lucid. In this instance, the cat is a tiny version of Tiger (a cat from my childhood when I lived on 611 North Monroe Street in 1967). One of the photographs from this time features me sitting in front of the front door, holding him.

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