Morning of June 18, 2017. Sunday. My wife Zsuzsanna and I are in an unknown bedroom which is seemingly implied to be part of our home. I have some sort of booby trap set up. It is a jury-rigged device with an explosive. It is set up like this to prevent any imposer from having more access to our home. The setting has the essence of some sort of unlikely composite of the lounge room of our present home and my fourth grade portable classroom that was north of the main building, with the classroom layout here mirrored from right to left when inside. When the imposer comes in through the doorway, there will be an explosion. I consider the setup. The imposer will perhaps not be killed; only surprised. I talk to Zsuzsanna about the setup. Our bed is longways (adjacent to the wall) just to the left of the entrance. (I am not even sure if there is an actual door covering the entrance.) The foot of our bed comes up to near the entrance directly on the left side. The booby trap is right at the foot of our bed. I consider that perhaps it is not that great of an idea. I tell Zsuzsanna that the explosion will probably be big and that it might destroy a part of the house or even reach us. I go over to the device and pick up an oversized nine-volt battery. It has two wires at the top, each connected to what would otherwise be snap connectors. The two wires then lead to the explosive pack. However, instead of two polarized snap connectors at the top, there are two smooth electrodes with the same positive polarity implied for each, each of the appearance of an electrode from a singular cylindrical battery. I remove the wire from one, which will probably prevent the pack from exploding. Still, I also remove the second wire. I now know that I have disabled it. Of course, this setup makes no sense. In the first place, the nine-volt battery, other than being over twice the size it should be, would have no polarity in reality due to its invalid design. In the second place, one could not wrap wire around a cylindrical electrode (as it would just slide off). In the third place, there does not seem to be any kind of tripwire for when the imposer comes in, but just a small container of some sort on the foot of the bed, attached with two long wires to the oversized nine-volt battery. Still, as would be expected, disabling my fictional device caused a softer waking, with no hypnopompic jerk. I find it fascinating how the majority of dreams are internally premonitory (in a biological sense) of the waking mechanism, especially related to the seemingly infinite ways a dream renders the lead up to waking symbolism. So what is happening in this particular dream? Well, the bomb is at the foot of the bed. When I disable it, I (or rather my unconscious essence) have done something biologically that prevents the type of hypnopompic jerk that is like my leg spontaneously kicking upwards. The location at the foot of the bed validates this quite obviously, and the different locations relate to the subliminal awareness that my hypnopompic kick might also disturb Zsuzsanna (so thus I am talking about the imposer, as subliminally expecting my emergent consciousness factor rather than the preconscious). It is also to the left of a doorway. A doorway symbolizes a real-time shift in consciousness, often the symbolic state directly between dreaming and waking up, as has been validated in thousands of my dreams since early childhood (and which I have typified when only about ten years of age as the “threshold” type). Zsuzsanna is to my left in my dream as she is in reality in bed as we are sleeping (a repeating orientation in my dreams.) Additionally, the battery and wires represent nerves and disabling it is symbolic of softening the nerve impulses of my real physical body. As with common symbolic (but subliminal) reinduction, this is not clear to me until directly after waking. I have, since very young, always found it far more meaningful and important to understand the true meaning of non-lucid dreams than the pretend game of “interpretation” in the naïve sense. To each his own.
Morning of June 13, 2017. Tuesday. I find myself wandering in a distorted version of Cubitis, seemingly in the morning at first. The area within and near the carport is expanded to at least twice its real size. I am walking easterly and happen to look back to see two shadows, male and female. They are not deliberately following me, just going in the same direction I am, it seems, but something in the back of my mind, in dawning lucidity, makes me perceive them as Zsuzsanna and I as a precursor to being in the state just prior to waking. Over time, my lucidity increases until it shifts into full apex lucidity. A young version of Zsuzsanna is present, appearing to be around the age when we first met. We stand in semidarkness in an unfamiliar bedroom. An unknown male stands off to my left. I am not concerned. He does not seem to be an active precursor of the preconscious, so I mostly ignore him while indulging in foreplay with Zsuzsanna. The sense of touch is extraordinarily augmented. We kiss, and I place my hands about her shoulders. Everything is perfect. Eventually, my awareness increases even more, but I hear Zsuzsanna now whispering things to me that seem different from what my own mind is focused on. My fingers move over her skin, down over the small of her back. I am trying to work out what she is saying but some of the words are not clear. I ask her questions, but eventually only vividly hear her say what I take to be “sore”. I then assume she has physical soreness and I am somewhat disheartened. However, as I shift into full waking, I realize the word was meant to be “soar”, as in the very common waking symbolism of “return flight”. (I see a flash of a childhood dream from November 1968 where I watch a giant eagle-like bird flying.) Over twenty percent of the tens of thousands of my dreams I have studied and decoded since early childhood contain the return flight waking symbolism of the hypnopompic biological event (of various degrees of subliminally anticipated intensity). This major naturally premonitory precursor is somehow always unique even though the meaning is basically always the same, simply symbolizing the return to full consciousness. It is however, often curiously mixed with other dynamics, sometimes even precognitive (such as my detailed dreams relating to the missing Malaysian flight). In lucid dreams, the nature of shadows sometimes comes into play as threads of dawning consciousness (since you cannot have a shadow without light, light representing the day and the conscious self identity). As the sun would symbolize the present whole conscious self identity (which is why strange things occur with the sun in non-lucid dreams - because the conscious self is not coherent or lucid), a shadow would indicate threads of conscious self awareness growing in the dream state (which strangely, at least apparently for some people, the non-lucid or fictional and incomplete dream self sometimes fears). My own shadow usually only appears in vivid lucid dreams and sometimes I indulge in moving to see if my shadow moves with me, which is always amusing, though if I am in a lucid dream where it seems I am deeper within sleep or the unconscious realm, my “shadow self” appears at more of a distance away, sometimes even on a bridge (which symbolizes the transitions between levels of consciousness in real time).
Morning of June 12, 2017. Monday. I become aware that I am lying on a snow-covered sidewalk, possibly in La Crosse (where I have not been in real life since February of 1994). I “remember” that I had been with a group of pirates. Presently, I and at least three others are probably in need of assistance. We all are going to be taking at least two headache tablets (even though I do not have a headache). They are all on the ground, near parts of the snow-covered sidewalk. I also see a lot of powder, the appearance of which reminds me of powdered drain cleaner. Within the mostly white powder are slightly larger red, blue, and green grains. I take only two pills and, even though the others have probably taken four, decide to stop there. I also ingest just a small amount of the powder. Still, I wonder if I had taken too much. (I do not use any kind of drugs or medication in reality.) I feel an unusual blissful sensation as well as a slight vivifying of my dream. Later, I decide to get up. The other pirates do not follow me at this time. I find my way onto a porch that seems loosely modeled after the King Street mansion’s front porch. I lie on the wooden floor for a short time. Soon, the leader of the pirates opens the front door and steps out onto his porch to see me lying there on my back. Even though I am a part of his group, he seems annoyed to see me and is going to shoot me. He takes out a flintlock rifle and aims at me. I do not really feel like being shot but I do not attempt to escape or even move. Suddenly, another pirate appears behind him on the porch (having just come in from outside) and shoots him in the back of the neck. This other pirate is Charlie Pace (a “Lost” television series character played by Dominic Monaghan). I am grateful and thank him. The rest of the pirates that had been lying on the snow-covered sidewalk enter the porch from outside and look down at the body, seemingly unsure of who the new leader will be. This is a typical porch dream of the type I have had all my life. Porches symbolize the waking transition of liminal space and often involve the personified preconscious (here, the pirate leader). The purpose of the preconscious is to initiate waking (or finalize the consciousness shift towards waking), sometimes by “killing” or annoying the fictional dream self (though sometimes linking “return flight” symbolism). Although it is rare to be “killed” in my dreams in a discernible manner, my emergent consciousness was projected as the pirate version of Charlie Pace (though sometimes my emergent consciousness is like an enemy as well depending on the type of waking symbolism that is rendered). (I have not seen an episode of “Lost” in a long time.) There was no direct hypnopompic surge (which probably would have happened had I been “shot”). It was a soft awakening. The very common dream sign of lying down having been “asleep” is present (and I am lying down in the last scene as well), which replaces the usual water induction (although technically snow is frozen water).
Updated 12-12-2022 at 04:23 PM by 1390
Morning of June 12, 2017. Monday. As with many of my dreams throughout my life, this dream is far too long, nonlinear, and surreal to relate cohesively online, though I will attempt to relate some of the main scenes as closely as possible. I find myself with the understanding that I am playing Luke Skywalker in a new low-budget “Star Wars” movie. Zsuzsanna is Princess Leia (even though Luke and Leia were brother and sister rather than man and wife). The movie is implied to be along the same lines as the first “Star Wars” movie and I guess is meant to be a cheap remake. A couple other characters are with us, including a skinny version of Chewbacca, with much sparser hair. In one scene, we are wading through a pond just outside of a large building, but we eventually enter the building. There is an unknown male near the entrance who is holding people’s credentials until they come back after exploring the building or possibly engaging in recreational activities. One of the unknown people I am with refuses to give the man his identification card and I think there might be some trouble. However, there is no implication of violence. The man instead hands him a small flower on a long stem, or at least that is what he says it is. To me, it looks more like some sort of small plastic rod, perhaps a toy. Still, nothing confrontational occurs. After wandering about in the halls, we come to a room that is filled with water of about waist high (and thus must have a sunken floor). There is a giant jellyfish that I have to cut off from around Zsuzsanna and possibly another character. I use a large sharp sword. It takes awhile as I slice through its thick but soft body below the surface of the water. Someone shows me a miniature jellyfish that was just found in the small left pocket (of some sort of blue tunic) of one of our group (though this person must have been killed or vanished). This miniature jellyfish is like another one that apparently turned into the giant jellyfish and had entered his pocket while we waded in the pond outside the front of the building (on the left of the entrance). From here, we walk towards the entrance, somehow not at all wet. Somehow, my “sword” is now a fake “lightsaber”, though not really like a lightsaber at all. I am carrying it horizontally in my right hand. It has a pink blade and a blue handle and is more like a giant toy jackknife even though, again, it is supposed to be a “Star Wars” lightsaber of about the same length. I realize that weapons are probably not allowed in the building. I do not want a confrontation, though none occurs as I fold the oversized plastic blade back into the handle. Meanwhile, the character that had taken our credentials stands without emotion near the entrance. As we walk outside, I consider how cheap my prop looks. Looking back, I see that the male regards me with respect, and I consider how devoted an actor he is for seemingly feeling comfortable in such an obviously low-budget movie. For a short time, as I walk near a long colonnade, where many unusual characters (some alien, but most humanoid) are lined up to go into the building in the direction behind me to my left, I consider that I may be too old to be Luke Skywalker (who is supposedly meant to be the young version in this film). Still, the movie is being filmed in real time and I will do what I can. As we walk along, I see what I firstly associate with a “Star Wars” tauntaun running along towards our direction but to our left in an open featureless field. For some reason, I call it an ostrich, mentioning it to the others. It is not like an ostrich however. It looks more like a giant quail. Another one appears, with an unknown female riding it. In the last scene, Big Bird (from “Sesame Street”) appears as a “Star Wars” character. He makes an effort to sit on one of the creatures but I think he might be too big. Still, he manages to sit on it even though it lowers to the ground for a short time, but then seems fine and strong enough to support Big Bird’s weight. I turn to tell the others, “It’s a bird on a bird”. Once again, the preconscious (man at the counter collecting credentials) is not only not confrontational but quite respectful compared to past dreams. Still, this is probably because the flight symbol connection is being initiated (even though Big Bird does not really fly and the giant running quail are at least not implied to here either). Big Bird as my emergent consciousness factor relating to suitably being able to sit on the other bird relates to having deliberately lost weight recently. Cutting the giant jellyfish from around other characters possibly relates to me losing weight as well.
Morning of June 12, 2017. Monday. I am walking through an unknown city in a commercial area, where there are a number of small stores to my left as I walk. It seems to be late morning. I seem to be on my own at first. I have an interest in looking around in a store and turn to enter a store I think I recognize. When I walk in though, I see it is a clothing store. “Whoops, wrong store,” I say as I soon turn around to leave. Another (unfamiliar) man who had been walking behind me also enters the store and turns around to leave when I do. It is almost as if he had been having the same thought orientation as I had and was simply following me as if I was “leading”, apparently also looking for whatever I am (even though we had not spoken and I am not even sure where I am going). I continue to walk, but only a short distance and into another store that has a different type of entrance as the previous. There is a large long checkout counter on my right and an interior wall to my left so that it seems almost like walking through a narrow hall. I continue towards the back and see that it is a large bookstore. I see a magazine that I find interest in after first noticing what I take to be an Omni magazine. When I pick it up and look through it, I see that it is a science-fiction comic book (in color) about dinosaurs and a group of men. I decide that I will buy it. I look in my wallet and I am somewhat surprised to find at least two one-hundred-dollar bills, a few fifty-dollar bills, and more. I illogically reason that my mother (who died in real life in 2002) had placed the money in my wallet. I have no memory that she had died even though I assume I am my present age. I then see another magazine I want. I look through it and find it interesting. It also has at least one story relating to dinosaurs but is seemingly for older readers as well as being thicker. It is supposed to come with a CD, but I decide I will ask at the checkout if they have it. Our youngest son appears to my right as I decide to buy one more thing. I see a few groups of Casper comic books to my left. There are about four different covers (different issues) in the groups. I ask my son if he wants one and he says yes and points to one in another area to the right, but I already have one I find interesting and inform him that it is also larger. It is a fifty-two pages “giant” edition. He seems happy. I go to the checkout and there is an unfamiliar cashier who is a female of perhaps fifty. She has gray hair. I remember to ask about the CD. However, when I look at the magazine, which is wrapped in (transparent) plastic, I see the CD is already there. I tell her that I had thought it would be in a jewel case attached to the cover. She looks at me with wary concern and asks if I had put anything on the CD (such as a computer virus, I assume) and I sarcastically ask her how I could have done that, asking her if I used the cover as a computer. Then I consider that technology might very well allow one to use a magazine cover as a computer, which I talk to her about for a very short time, but nothing negative commences and I remain cheerful. As I pay, holding my wallet open and taking out a fifty-dollar bill, I notice an unknown female on my right cheerfully looking at the hundred-dollar bills in my open wallet as I hold it up near the counter. It almost seems as if she never saw one before and, slightly wary, I put my wallet away. It turns out however, that she had not been looking at my wallet or even at me; perhaps something on the counter. This dream is a very good example of why dreams are nothing like stories. I am looking through a magazine, planning to ask the cashier where the cover CD is. The magazine is somehow then commercially wrapped, implying it always had been (thus I could not have been looking through it even though I was). I then tell the cashier that I thought it would be in a jewel case, which makes no sense as I said this spontaneously and had really not considered it in this manner. Then the cashier asks if I had “put something” on the CD. Obviously, being wrapped, I could not have, and even if I had, I am buying it, so whatever I might have put on it would only be in my possession and with no problem or concern for others. Additionally, my mother died in 2002, yet my son, born in 2007, is with me at his present age. My mother only ever lived in America and would not have had Australian money of such an amount to give me, thus making the setting itself ambiguous by location. Omni magazine stopped publication (in print) in Winter 1995. The Casper comic book, though new, was like one from around 1971. The threads of the fictional dream self always seem completely different each time and from many different timelines and temporary false memories.
Morning of June 11, 2017. Sunday. My wife Zsuzsanna and our children as we are now are at a carnival, though curiously, a group of people are in our house at one point (mostly in our lounge room) who are apparently waiting to enter another area. I do not see them as imposers and even consider how there are not that many people around. There is the typical ambiguity of the setting being an unlikely essence of indoors and outdoors at the same time, a common factor of my dreams since early childhood. A photographer is present in a few different scenes. He reminds me of Al, the Italian manager of a pawn shop in La Crosse, who I have not seen in nearly twenty-five years. Although some of the photographs he takes seem okay, many are very poorly done, often cutting off the person’s face below the nose. I have the strong impression that the photographs he takes that turn out well are the result of random coincidence. Zsuzsanna and I sit to the right of an unknown family. I sit to Zsuzsanna’s right. I assume the photographer is going to take a few good photographs of the scene. However, when I look at them later, I see that my face is only visible above the mouth and in one photograph, the one I look at the longest, both my eyes are closed. I show Zsuzsanna and relate my opinion of this photographer as not being very good. I notice in the last photograph, my right eye is closed and my left eye is open. The photographer is of course this dream’s personified preconscious. He is not really confrontational here as in many other dreams. The purpose of the personified preconscious is to initiate the waking transition and in some cases, as here, to give evidence that the dreamer is dreaming. The subliminal anticipation of the hypnopompic jerk is only one of several factors in this waking symbolism. The preconscious is more of a biological necessity, though not always personified (for example, is sometimes an animal, sometimes an event or feature of a setting, but always fairly obvious if one understands dreams). The nature of how the preconscious waking factor is rendered, and what character plays the role in a particular dream, sometimes seems completely random. However, looking more deeply, there is usually more than one layer. In this case, the photographer is played by a man who worked at a checkout. A checkout is a form of liminal space waking symbolism. (The analogy is that a person is done shopping and ready to return home as akin to leaving the dream state, or “checking out of the dream state”.) This type of hybrid characterization, though always unique, has occurred in thousands of my dreams, with the same waking symbolism and implications. It is not that common for me as my personified subconscious (temporary fictional dream self) to be The Sleeper. This element is typically projected as something else, even faulty technology. In the last photograph, one of my eyes is open, which is an emergent consciousness factor. (My mouth is not visible in the photographs as I cannot speak coherently while sleeping.) Zsuzsanna and I are oriented in my dream as we are in bed in reality (that is, she is to my left). There seem to be a few types of instinctual dreaming (non-lucid dream control). In addition to the state where the dreamer knows he is making the dream (and yet does not even remember or know what a dream is), there is the state as here, where the dreamer is more passive to events, yet where there is the subliminal knowledge of being asleep but not direct or creating viable lucidity. There is also a sort of halfway point when I am next to Zsuzsanna, my dream attaining real environmental orientation while still within the dream state (more common and sustained in my childhood dreams). Of course, a carnival symbolizes the dream state itself (that is, a place not relevant to the usual day-to-day reality, though my family had been to one recently).
Updated 09-08-2019 at 04:51 PM by 1390
Morning of June 11, 2017. Sunday. I am riding in the back of a taxi. The driver, a dark-haired male in his thirties, is unfamiliar. Zsuzsanna is with me. There also seems to be at least one unknown female present as a passenger. She makes unusual comments as we ride through a mostly unlit area, as if she is uncertain of the intention of the cab driver or where we are going. We go through an odd area between two exterior (presumably) walls in a more isolated part of the unknown city. The walls are irregular (more like rock faces) and seem to have recesses with unknown features, perhaps living creatures, but this never becomes clear. Several different times, the taxi goes up a staircase, similar to the one on Rose Street (but somehow never down one). I do not consider this unusual, even though we somehow are eventually outside and at ground level again, to later ride up another high flight of steps. The last staircase is slightly steeper than the previous but there is never any sense of fear or even wariness. Finally, we get out of the taxi on the second floor of an apartment building, apparently where the driver lives. This does not seem unusual to me. (In fact, my dream self had no backstory memory or any destination in mind at any point.) The driver walks over to an unusual “table” in his kitchen, but which looks more like the walls we saw earlier, and is actually like a large irregular rock (though flat on the top) in the shape of a rectangular prism. The driver exclaims “Oh!” (as if surprised by something unseen) and waves his hand, but there is nothing there. He mentions that a wasp had emerged earlier from the “table” and seems to think that this event is also transpiring presently (though it is not). I do not feel threatened or alarmed in any way and calmly mention to all the others that there is nothing there. In this dream, the preconscious shows me, several times, the “staircase as consciousness shift” factor (here, as implied waking symbolism). Still, there is no discernible change in the waking transition as such (though in contrast to going up, going down steps typically either vivifies my dream or triggers full lucidity). Even more oddly, he pretends the flight symbol (hypnopompic start precursor) is present in the last scene when I do not see it or feel the “return flight” mood at all. (Obviously, I still eventually wake.) It is a general rule that the preconscious becomes more dominant (even aggressive or uncommunicative) over time during a particular sleep cycle. Obviously, this is because waking up is a biological necessity. This did not seem so much like a glitch as a “practice run” inclusive of my usual waking symbolism over the last fifty years.
Morning of June 10, 2017. Saturday. This is just a typical first-level dream sign dream of the type I have had continuously all my life, although I only document them when there are unique features. As I have explained before (though it is a no-brainer if one actually understands dreams and how the human mind works), the rendering is based on threads of real-time but subliminal conscious self awareness within sleep. (The number of threads of conscious self identity vary greatly from dream to dream, which is why “interpretation”, as in relating to the current conscious self, is not really feasible.) In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar location. There are a number of unknown people around who I do not perceive as imposers. Curiously, we are all on an oversized L-shaped bed, which goes around the internal corner of a wall (that is, of an inward ninety-degree angle). There are at least two windows, one on the side I am on and the other around the turn. I am also aware of a few family members. A television is on on the opposite side of the room but I do not pay that much attention to it. I want to keep the window on my side open. It is a bit difficult as the piece that is meant to hold it up (at about the halfway point) is somewhat flimsy. Someone else (unknown), around the corner and on the perpendicular part of the large bed, hands me a gold metal rod (which I thank him for), which I think was a horizontal piece from the other window (which I think may have come from the top of the lower sash). It is about two and a half feet long. One part of it on one end (perhaps attached to it) loosely resembles a very long barrel bolt lock. I am able to place it vertically within the window’s left side to hold up the lower sash at the level of the upper sash. After this, I do something to a headphone cord that is apparently plugged into the television. I pull it closer to where I can comfortably put on my headphones (not getting off the bed at any point). I soon hear the television sound through the headphones, although it also seems to be coming out into the room (which is not possible unless the relevant Y-cable is used). This last part loosely comes from a recent real-life event. The speakers on our new television stopped working and I had to jury-rig a cord from the headphone socket into amplified multimedia speakers. (Our new DVD player appears to have no tuner so I guess technology is still moving backwards, as usual.) Over the last several years, I have learned a little more about the specific elements of “behavior” concerning preconscious factors, especially the personified preconscious. After closely studying tens of thousands of dreams all my life, it appears, quite obviously, that the nature of the preconscious in this case is non-aggressive or confrontational as I am “already in bed” and additionally “already near the open window”. (A window symbolizes, in real time, either the threads to the conscious self status, or another level of consciousness. In holding the window up with a piece given to me by a personified preconscious persona, I am willingly, though subliminally, entering the waking transition without the need for the preconscious to create aggressive or confrontational waking symbolism). Additionally, hearing the television through my headphones symbolizes, in real time, my approach to the waking event horizon, as a television sometimes represents (in real time) the dreamer’s external environment (though it depends on the dream type and time frame of the dream). Additionally, the L-shaped bed is probably an unusual visual form to make the clear distinction between the fictional dream self (and its typically false memories and false identity) and the emergent consciousness (which is far more like the current whole conscious self identity). As such, it is likely analogous to the intersection feature in some dream types.
Morning of June 7, 2017. Wednesday. I am in an unknown location, seemingly in someone’s backyard at one point. There is a long scenario where this part of the world (the setting in my dream) will soon be ruined by sunlight of too high a radiance. That is, plasma, for whatever reason, is somehow flowing closer to only this part of the world. It does not seem that bad at first. Some unknown people and I are involved in some sort of writing activity. I am sitting on the lawn. Over time, I am aware of the approaching danger. In the last scene, red dominates my dream. It is coming in with more heat and intensity. This also means that this part of the world will no longer exist. I roll on my side to escape the reach of the red beams, which seem almost like a giant magnifying glass being used as analogous to set a fire or burn an ant. Since childhood, red almost always symbolizes (in real time) the need to wake up (or that I had been sleeping for too long). In this case, I had absentmindedly switched sleeping positions to being on my right side in the first time in a few weeks. Even in my dream, there is the subliminal awareness of this being wrong and I even roll on my side in my dream. (I can only sleep well on my left side, or halfway on my stomach to my left. Sleeping on my right side almost always causes digestion problems even if I have not eaten in awhile, as well as physical distress at times.) Dreams such as this often serve as real-time waking mechanisms despite people failing to understand this primary purpose of dreams, although contrary to what some “experts” claim, dreams are sometimes more than just waking symbolism even though this one is limited to that function. Still, living in a world of the “dream interpretation” fallacy all my life is just as annoying as being in a world with people who claim dreams have no meaning at all.
Morning of June 7. 2017. Wednesday. The first main scene of my dream involves going to a very large unfamiliar post office, though there is the common indoors-outdoors ambiguity. There are a number of rows of post office boxes and drawers, though no interior walls or discernible building features. It seems to be late morning. The sky is overhead; no ceiling implied for the “post office”. It is somewhat like a simple maze in the last part of this scene. I see a group of about six police officers between two rows. In another area, there is an unfamiliar male in black appearing with a gun, though he is not a direct threat to me. Still, I do not want to be near him or the people he aims at from time to time. From an unrealistic distance, I am still able to read a yellow strip of writing below one post office drawer (in about the middle of the feature) that has something to do with needing a special code as well as the key in order to open it. It seems related to a business. I have a curiosity over what might be in the drawers, though I also consider there might not be anything. Several unknown males join me as I move around the rows of post office boxes to be out of the viewpoint of the man with the gun. He is not after us specifically but I consider that he may not want any witnesses regarding his activity towards others. He does not fire the gun at any point. Eventually, I leave the area and find myself in an unknown neighborhood. A young version of Zsuzsanna is to my right (though I am seemingly much younger as well, perhaps only about twenty). It is as if we have only been together for a short time. Walking ahead of us and to our left is a thin female with short and curly gray hair. She is unfamiliar and seems at least sixty years of age. She is wearing light-colored slacks and a blouse. She is carrying a large black-and-white cat on her right shoulder (which I assume to be male). Suddenly, there is some sort of change where Zsuzsanna is now somehow sitting on the lady’s right shoulder and I find myself carrying the large cat near my left shoulder. The old woman somehow caused this because she wants us to have a meal with her at her house and talks to us about this. Her cat was also apparently becoming difficult for her to control, which is why I am now holding it. I am holding it up and out with both hands and it struggles a bit but does not get away. We reach the area where she lives. She has one neighbor (also an older lady) to our right. The chicken-wire fence is lying on the ground, rolled out to where one must walk on it to get to another gate where there is a small enclosed garden area (which is about the same size in area as our bed and probably a real-time play on “garden bed” as a dream sign). It almost seems like it rolls out automatically (somewhat like an irregular carpet) by the will of the person going to the old woman’s house. I do not really feel like walking on wire mesh, so I hover slightly above it and slowly fly mostly in a vertical position to the enclosed garden area. Zsuzsanna, being already behind the first gate, is partly lying on her right side on the ground near the right internal corner of the garden fence, holding herself up with her arm. There is soon distorted imagery to where a couple large blades of tall grass partly block my view of her face, but this seems like some sort of “story” related to “Alice in Wonderland”. The old woman talks about a man who tends to her garden, but this becomes like a dream within a dream. The man is also seemingly playing a televised role, dressed as a farmer or a minimal clown as a farmer, but being called a “demon” in describing what he is doing in tending her garden and also having unusual snakes on display to the public. I consider if he feels odd about being called a “demon”, as they do not exist and there is nothing threatening or negative about his persona or activities. He seems to tolerate this in playing a role in a television show. He holds up a couple different snakes that he has cared for. One has a catlike head. The other has a black head on a light brown body but the head of which is like a miniature shark. There are no negative emotions of any kind in seeing this impossible imagery. Dreams do not really have “interpretations” in the naïve popular usage of the term but they often do have layers of meaning, primarily based on real-time levels of consciousness which may or may not relate more directly to the present conscious self status. There is a preconscious precursor here. Although he has a gun, it does not create enough of a sense of danger to activate the waking mechanism, which is a major function of dreams (though not the only function as some “experts” claim). The simple maze relates to finding specific threads of my conscious self identity for my temporary fictional dream self to find its way to the waking threshold. The post office probably has two underlying meanings, real-time communication between different levels of the self while not fully awake, and possible links to the collective unconscious (or even collective conscious). It may also relate to precognitive threads with someone the dreamer is not yet in communication with (and may not be for years), something I validated from childhood dreams relating to my “mystery girl” (Zsuzsanna). The dark cat represents a real-time factor of being asleep (and often represents an aspect of liminal space), as cats are known for sleeping a lot (as well as being active at night when people sleep). The personified preconscious takes on the form of an older woman carrying her cat. Her giving it to me relates to activating my emergent consciousness precursor. “Beyond the fence” is a metaphor for a shift in consciousness while in the dream state. The first fence is on its side because, in reality, I am lying down (sleeping) instead of being awake and standing up (thus it is a second-level dream sign). I often hover or fly very well and effortlessly in the final stage of a dream and without giving it much thought (which relates to lessening the hypnopompic jerk and waking more softly as it is premonitory of the biological falling sensation). My emergent consciousness (as a projection as the gardener with the snakes in some sort of skewed television role) is illogically called a “demon”, but in a very matter-of-fact sense, with no associations with negativity of any kind. This probably relates to my status of being in a world full of superstitious people who have little or no understanding of the dream state. The imagery, though slightly grotesque (primarily the snake with a black miniature shark head, which is a “less water” factor of which has continuously occurred in my dreams on a day to day basis for over fifty years and is both biological and symbolic on a number of levels) has no effect on my perception or emotions, just as with hypnagogia visuals (though this becomes more of a hypnopompic state). I wake very slowly and softly, with no physical hypnopompic effects.
Morning of June 3, 2017. Saturday. I am in an unknown and unfamiliar setting, lying on my left side on a bed that is unrealistically large. It seems to be late morning. There are several other unfamiliar people in the room, though I do not perceive them as imposers or annoying in any way. There is also at least one young girl to the left standing on the floor, though near a young Hispanic female who seems to be a teacher and is also on the large bed. The implied teacher has some sort of curious device that seems related to computer technology yet is more like an abacus with spherical drops of water as the counters. Over time, I watch the beautiful silvery imagery of the pure water droplets moving smoothly across the horizontal abacus rod by themselves, almost as if inferring a clock or timer of some sort, yet also somehow seemingly linked to the back of a desktop computer. Still, I also get the impression that the Hispanic female is involved in using them at times for actual mathematics. She reminds me of a young Sonia Manzano (perhaps about twenty); (Maria from “Sesame Street”). After a time, my dream self seems oddly unlinked to my intent (even though I am otherwise fully within my dream self’s imaginary “physical body”). I want to communicate with, and become closer to, the Inducer (personified higher unconscious). Instead, my dream self becomes my personified preconscious (which is extremely rare in non-lucid dreams of this type). I spontaneously start singing, “Like a moth to a flame…” in a higher pitch (sounding somewhat like a young teenager), my dream suddenly shifting, becoming more vivid, yet with the Inducer seeming annoyed and deliberately taking the child and the water induction abacus away from the area. Knowing this, I am already entering peaceful dark and undefined liminal space, but quickly shifting into my full conscious awareness. This dream is very atypical regardless of having the usual water induction and “return flight” waking symbolism. I rarely shift into becoming the personified preconscious in this way. (Usually, the personified preconscious is a different dream character, completely unrelated to the conscious self. In fact, even my emergent consciousness is sometimes projected as another dream character until waking coalescence occurs.) However, I am already in bed (in my dream) to prepare to wake for real. I had already enjoyed the (biological) healing continuity of the spherical water droplets imagery. Singing “like a moth to a flame” is a metaphor for the temporary dream self (moth in flight related to the hypnopompic jerk of the waking mechanism) merging into the whole conscious self identity (the flame) and “dying”. The song itself is apparently fictional even though I was sure it was a classic country song by Leroy Van Dyke. The lyric is in “Four Walls” (Jim Reeves) but is a different tempo and melody. (It may be related to the first line of “Four Walls”; “Out where the bright lights are glowing”, as my family and I had just spent the day and evening at a carnival on the outskirts of town.)
Morning of June 2, 2017. Friday. I am on the porch of the Barolin Street house (where my wife Zsuzsanna and I and our children have not lived in real life for years) in Bundaberg. However, in my dream, it is implied to be in Cubitis (where I have not lived since 1978). Even though my dream self is probably implied to be around forty-six years old (I am presently fifty-six), there is also an ambiguous hybrid facet of my fifteen-year-old self. There is a small bookcase on the south side of the porch facing south (though north in the Cubitis orientation), where no bookcase ever was in reality. It is within the open area rather than the back of the bookcase being against a wall. I am vaguely focused on a dream journal as well as a textbook and a couple other books, including a volume from a set of encyclopedias. (These books were in the lower shelf.) Now and then, I shift into my teenage focus. I look out through the porch windows toward where the neighbors have just driven back to their house. They are walking around near their car, which is parked just outside of their small open carport and facing their carport. Thus, as is typical of this recurring dream scenario, I first see only Lisa’s parents and wonder what is going on. After a time, I am more within my older perspective and looking at the books again. Still, Lisa appears, having phased through the side of the porch. I acknowledge her presence as she stands facing me, though she remains behind the back of the bookcase. When I look up at her, she seems to be about twelve years old. Curiously, I notice that she has an animated tattoo on her forehead which has two frames (at the rate of about one per two seconds). The tattoo is somewhat pale and transparent with an embossed essence rather than having much contrast or color, though I can still read the larger of the two frames. It reads as “LOST GIRL” (in uppercase). I do not consider this to be strange at all though I also do not consider any meaning of any kind. The second frame, when it appears in the animation sequence, is not written large enough to read from where I am seated. It appears seemingly as an address (possibly of a dance studio) as on an envelope. To the lower left of the “envelope address” is what looks like a small icon of Earth with a pair of wings. It seems we are both in the process of moving. She stands attentively but we do not speak much. The preconscious in this dream is of a very atypical essence. It almost seems to be awaiting instructions rather than initiating the waking mechanism, though me facing the bookshelf implies my thinking abilities emerging, thus the preconscious may have already “done its job” by remaining behind the bookcase as I face it. There are several meanings (layered meanings in addition to the native real-time meaning), none of which are significant to my present conscious self status. Firstly, it could be a residual thread of how I view people who believe in vicarious “dream interpretation” as “lost” (as I am near a bookcase and with a dream journal), though who am I to judge people who, for whatever reason, believe that things like chiromancy, tasseography, or reading ‘possum bones in a circle cast in the dirt somehow “works” for them. On a personal level, it may simply mean no longer being my teenage self in Florida and the residual effect of traumatic transitions that will always remain a part of my life experience regardless of how happy and loved I have been most of my life, especially over the last twenty-five years. Contrived convenience: Contrived convenience is a common type of erroneous dream rendering where the presumed errors in memory are based on the real-time linear convenience of the particular dream. If not for contrived convenience, many settings, features, and events in dreams could not be perceived by the dream self at all. For example, in this case, seeing the activities of my Cubitis neighbors near their small carport would not have been possible if my dream had correctly rendered the liminal space factor as my Cubitis home’s carport rather than the Barolin Street house’s porch (as the real-life limited view from the Cubitis carport was only to the north, and only partly west and east). Also erroneous is how Lisa somehow came onto the porch through the porch’s side. That is, she somehow phased through the porch wall (and windows), which is where my dream self’s attention was focused, rather than entering normally through the porch door which would have been somewhere off to my right (where I never directly looked). (This term is also used to describe “reality” or linear time as experienced by an individual but I will not get into that here.)Dream sign (dream journal): A dream sign (my systemic definition only) is a carryover of the conscious self’s current status of being unconscious and within the dream state. The most obvious type is being in bed. Others include not wearing shoes or socks, being undressed in public, a bed in an incorrect location, and even thoughts of one’s dream journal. Dream signs, like so many other features and events in dreams, have nothing to do with erroneous beliefs in “interpretation” (in the common misuse as a synonym for meaning) that is still so popular with the public.Flight symbol: Flight symbols occur as waking symbolism in over one in five of my non-lucid dreams (closer to one in four, or at least over twenty percent) in the tens of thousands of my non-lucid dreams that I have documented and closely studied and decoded. This is obviously because of the subliminal yet anticipatory nature of the purely biological hypnopompic jerk or sleep start, that is, the perception of falling as a natural shift in consciousness from sleeping to waking that often occurs even in infants. It is hard for me to accept that there are people who believe that biological dream dynamics have some sort of “interpretation”.Personified Preconscious: The personified preconscious is typically a dominant dream character of a very specific recognizable essence of whom, while usually a different character (either male or female), initiates either the unification, disruption, or cessation (depending on the unique dream self incarnation) of the dream self’s transmutation into whole consciousness within the waking transition. The waking mechanism might be based on anything from activating more threads of the current conscious self identity with augmented emotions (for example, the dream self getting aggravated by feeling imposed upon by a trait unrelated to current conscious self identity) to blissful coalescence (for example, hugging the personified preconscious and feeling bliss or love in coalescence). The preconscious is transpersonal, sometimes the opposite of the conscious self identity, and is often completely unrelated to the current conscious self’s persona or identity (contrary to the ridiculous belief that every dream character comes from current conscious self identity or status, which could not be more wrong).Porch as liminal space: A porch as a dream setting is usually a real time metaphor of my dream self’s transition into wakeful consciousness. It represents the state between being in a house (temporary limited dream self’s perspective) and the outside world (conscious self identity’s perspective). It is a factor of my most common waking symbolism, which I have fully validated thousands of times since early childhood.
Morning of June 1, 2017. Thursday. This dream is, in part, a sort of skewed carryover from another recent dream (“In a Science Group with Three Strangers”, from May the 31st, 2017). The same fictional characters appear, two unknown males and an unknown female. (Both the first part of this dream and the previous dream relate directly to studying the dynamics of sleeping and dreaming in real time, though while non-lucid.) This dream is too distorted to make much sense of. There is something about them hanging around where my mother is sleeping. It is an upstairs area. I remain annoyed at these people throughout this segment. I even kick one of the males so that he slides down the stairs, though he is not fatally injured. I do not go down the stairs myself (which sometimes serves as a lucidity trigger, though otherwise vivifies my dream, as the usage of a staircase in a dream relates directly to shifting one’s level of consciousness while in the dream state, just as it does in certain forms of hypnosis and guided meditation.) This scene shifts to a completely distorted and skewed continuity combining science-fiction with “real life”. I am in an unknown area and there is some sort of backstory of the world becoming too cold for people to comfortably live. I know I can help (without being lucid). Floating in the sky about ten feet above the ground is a very large holographic globe of Earth, which, for some reason, I perceive as the “real” Earth. (This of course makes no sense, as how could I be on Earth and also see Earth in the sky?) Captain Picard (as from “Star Trek: The Next Generation”) in a Runabout, flies out from the holographic but “real” Earth to the right of it (in my perspective) and towards my direction (though there is no direct contact or communication). He seems concerned. I decide to “fix” everything by waving my right hand and creating heated air currents from a fair distance away from the floating transparent globe, which form in a presumed S-shape, top to bottom. (This is very similar to how I mentally repaint walls in non-lucid dreams). I stand in one spot, hoping that these patterns will correctly cover the whole world to make it warm enough for human survival (even though the globe is not rotating). It has become cooler here in reality. The holographic Earth comes from Zsuzsanna and I having just watched a couple episodes of “The Librarians” where a large holographic globe is featured. Many of my dreams are directly influenced by television (though probably not the majority) even though I do not watch it that much (certainly not nearly as much as others).
Morning of May 31, 2017. Wednesday. I am sitting on the floor in the lounge room in our present home on W Street (though it is bigger yet with less features). My wife Zsuzsanna and our youngest son are present. He is playing a Skylanders game though is ready to play a new one with a new figure which Zsuzsanna had apparently just bought for seventy dollars. The game is also new. The toy figure that fits onto a joystick-like device is a horse of mostly yellow and brown tones. The figure is rendered into the game. At first, I thought it was going to be a human or at least an anthropomorphic character. Instead, I eventually see that the toy figure and the rendered video game image looks like a horseshoe-shaped horse facing left in profile. (It also reminds me somewhat of an arched Halloween cat.) Our son plays for a short time before the joystick falls apart. There is some sort of small rod from it that goes through the top of the head of the Skylander figure and falls out, causing the rest of the entire game controller and figure to fall apart. He is upset. I think about trying to fix it, but notice tiny screws on the floor mixed in with pieces that I am not sure are even part of the game controller. I think about taking it back for a refund, though this idea quickly fades. I get annoyed and decide to just discard it. I also decide to get rid of the game as well, but this part is unusual in that I start to dismantle the whole works (thus subliminally initiating the biological waking mechanism) like a three-dimensional setup rather than just taking out the cartridge. This dream is a result of my temporary dream self (unstable higher range personified subconscious) not being fully linked to the dream state because of slightly disrupted sleep. It is a metaphor for “not holding the dream together” (and my dream self subliminally wanting to “put the dream back together”). I have had hundreds of dreams of this nature since early childhood, always when my sleep has been slightly disrupted by an environmental factor. The horse represents the essence of physical energy (as in “horsepower”), similar to car symbolism in some states, symbolizing the potential for healing and rejuvenating energies in real time. It is not a real horse here as it is caught within the sleep disruption (and the disruption of a more viable rejuvenating state). On a secondary level, it possibly relates to our youngest son not being an adult in control of his life and still needing us to be in control, though I am certainly not annoyed in any way by that fact, though it does suggest he might need more vitamins (or a stronger immune system). Still, something “falling apart” (or falling in general) is just a very common dream cessation (waking) metaphor I have seen continuously all my life.
Morning of May 31, 2017. Wednesday. In my dream, there is firstly the common water induction factor (which has been relevant to at least one to two dreams per night for over fifty years), and it is rendered as the ocean this time (deeper sleep and a potential link to the collective unconscious). There is the typical ambiguity of being indoors and outdoors at the same time. My dream progresses from my first location of a computer setup and bed to a more relevant (to real life) waking symbolism setting where I am then in our present home (though still with a sense of being outside even though I see Zsuzsanna sleeping in our bed in one of the last scenes). I seem to be part of an Internet group with three people of whom I do not know at all and had never met; two males and a female. Our virtual presence on the webpage is shown as a small paragraph (of about five or six lines) with a current photograph in the upper left corner of each person’s profile paragraph and present status. We talk to each other with microphones, though we sometimes type messages. Our talk is mainly about a large plesiosaurus that is not far from the ocean’s surface in the area near the beach. It does not pose a threat of any kind regardless of its cliché “sea serpent” associations. The unknown female seems to talk the most over time. Eventually, there is mention of how the creature had apparently been bumped by another animal underneath. This event does not seem problematic but dominates the last part of the online conversation. Oddly, one male talks about the event as if it was he that had been nudged. Eventually, it seems as if the others are offline and probably sleeping. I somehow see a scene where a very large dolphin nudges the stomach of the plesiosaurus (while swimming in the same direction just under it, implied to be to my left), though this is seemingly not an aggressive act. I notice that the dolphin is of a very unusual mottled pattern, mainly of purple and pink, almost reminiscent of a bed sheet pattern (though I do not make this association while in my dream). I decide to contact one of the others to report this. I wake up one of the males (by calling him with a telephone) and he seems somewhat confused and annoyed in being woken up at first. I describe how the dolphin is a very large but likely unknown species. Eventually, the scene shifts to where we are physically with each other in an area that seems modeled after the southeast grounds of my middle school (where I was last present in 1975). I mostly sit on the ground while the other three walk around, though one male talks to me (while standing) for a short time. Somehow, the location still seems the same on one level. The unknown female dominates the rest of the waking transition, which becomes distorted and illogically sustained. She tries to tell me something that I have to ask her to keep repeating (at least six times) as I do not catch the last word (a very common dream event). I think she might be saying the word “blue” at the end of the question but I am not sure. The phrase itself seems mostly like gibberish. Eventually, I just say “yes” and tell her my last name, which may not be what she was talking about (though my surname does at least rhyme with “blue”). I go over to where Zsuzsanna is sleeping (the indoor dynamics becoming a little more dominant than the sense of being outside) and there is the essence of where we live now in reality. She does not wake. (This is a typical dream setting shift where I walk from the grounds of my middle school in America to within our present home in Australia without my dream self regarding the impossibility at all. Still, this linear symbolism validates that dreaming of a school is often an attempt by the limited temporary dream self to get back to current whole conscious self identity, which is then indirectly shown as still being asleep in reality, though my dream self only sees Zsuzsanna in this case.) I see that I have the journal of the unknown female. It is somewhat like a mix of dream journal and real-life diary. It also has a number of scribbles and references to pills (and apparently illegal drugs), something about “taking the cruel pill” and odd illogical forms of supposed art, which is mainly just random lines, partial sketches, and random words. The fact that this unknown female is so undesirable in the last stage of the waking symbolism is a subliminal incentive for me to wake at this time and join my real partner in life. (In fact, the personified preconscious as such is often very annoying and imposing, but this depends on which part of the sleep cycle I am in, and time and time again, for over fifty years, is precisely linked to my circadian rhythms dynamics.) Despite the unusual nature of this dream in regard to the sea serpent, it is a very typical lifelong-established combination of dream signs (residual subliminal memories of having fallen asleep) and dream state induction symbolism and waking symbolism. The bumping of the dolphin against the plesiosaurus is a symbolic carryover of a recent dream where I drove a car between two vehicles in the street and nudged the streetcar (so that it rolled to the intersection without a conductor). This is symbolic of nudging Zsuzsanna in my sleep in real time. (In fact, many dreams have dynamics based on current environmental factors, something that people who believe in “dream interpretation” in the popular but naïve usage of the term completely ignore.) Projecting (and expanding) my imaginary dream body as a streetcar in one dream (without my conscious self identity being able to link to it to “drive” - depending on the stage of sleep) and as a plesiosaurus in this one, may be purely incidental, though a plesiosaurus, when passive, is symbolic of being in a more relaxed sleep while a streetcar rolling to an intersection is waking symbolism (though also analogous to rolling over in my sleep without being fully awake). (The plesiosaurus symbolism as such has occurred since around age six.)
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