Blue_Opossum

Night of April 14, 2017. Friday.



There is a quickly perceived backstory of two unknown men. There is an awareness of each man being dressed somewhat as Zorro (though this is not fully perceived as such in my dream). It does seem that a couple masks are quickly removed prior to the last part. One man is at a table in a restaurant, though in semidarkness. I do not seem directly involved.

The two men look nothing alike. One is much slimmer and taller. The slimmer man enters the restaurant and stands near the table. As the slimmer man looks down with his face very close to the one sitting at the table, he exclaims, “What the h— is this?” with both puzzlement and mild anger. Both men have identical sets of symmetrical and parallel scratches on their face (as if the marks were made on purpose), some coming out diagonally (and upward) from near each eye, some mostly horizontal on the cheeks, some down around near their mouth. They look at each other curiously, each perhaps thinking one is impersonating the other. The marks mostly look like cat scratches, and about half are still red.

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This is some sort of odd coalescence factor, probably the preconscious and the emergent consciousness personified in an oddly projected or secondary way. (I did get the brief impression that I was looking at myself even though neither man looked anything like me.) (There is possibly influence from Balthazar in “The Scorpion King”, a 2002 movie, though the appearance is very different.)

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Morning of April 12, 2017. Wednesday.



In the first part of my dream, I have the ability to “do anything” and I am clearly aware of this (even though I am not lucid at any point), of which becomes a focus on an unfamiliar Solntsevskaya Bratva boss (reminiscent of an older Mikhail Baryshnikov though more like Semion Mogilevich in the last moments of the scene, though Mikhail is possibly the man at the teacher’s desk and near the tree in later scenes) and his younger associate wanting me to find gold. Semion is at a desk in the last scene of the first segment. I explain that I will only find the gold that is not in a secured location or kept by others. I tell him that there is at least one large gold nugget twenty-five miles away. (This indicated that my dream would last twenty-five more minutes as gold typically represents emerging consciousness as well as sunrise). To me, this seems like too long of a drive, but he seems to be interested in getting it. I explain that I could find gold coins that had been lost (symbolic of subliminally seeking conscious self identity), but the focus remains on the gold nugget. No events related to this scenario occur after this.

In another scene (which seems to be the same unfamiliar room as in the first scene), I get two chocolate Easter eggs from my mother (having no memory that she had died years ago). They are like Kinder Surprise eggs (and with the same wrapper imagery) but about twice the size. When I go to eat one as I am lying on the floor (on my side), there seems to be one inside the other, as I end up eating at least half the foil from the one on the inside (but I do not spit it out). My mother is present and I mention this. She says that she had forgotten to unwrap it (and the second egg is probably like this as well). This does not really make sense, as how would one unwrap a chocolate egg that is fully inside another one? The toy inside the plastic “egg” (of which there is only one inside the second wrapped layer) is hard to discern. It may be some sort of tiny plastic outrigger model, the pieces attached in one frame (and I see the small strip of paper with instructions as well).

There is a tiny man, only about three inches high, who I talk to several different times throughout the rest of my dream. There is interest in where he may have come from. I ask him where he lives, naming about three locations, finally asking him if he lives under tree roots and he seems offended. He talks to another male (of normal height) at a desk.

The other male asks me something about receiving a check. The layout of the room now reminds me somewhat of one of my high school basement classrooms, with a square column on each side of his desk. I notice that I am in pajamas and as it is the middle of the day I feel slightly embarrassed. (I do not wear anything when sleeping in real life, though this is just a first-level dream sign, that is, a subliminal non-lucid awareness of being asleep and dreaming.) I take them off and put a shirt on, but then I see that I already had a shirt on (even though I had not actually put the first one on) so I am now wearing two shirts and notice that they are different colors (blue and pale orange I think, the blue on the outside). I think about whether I should just button up the second one but consider that it may be too warm.

Eventually, it is seen that the tiny man actually had been living in a small cave under a large tree (just as I had first thought and asked him about though which seemingly offended him), accessible via a tiny doorway between the tree roots. I see two tiny women dressed as fishwives standing just outside the door. They seem to be wondering where the tiny man went. I want to talk to them, but they are wary of human beings of normal height. A group of other people, some of them relatives, curiously approach the tree (including Tina, which is possibly the first dream she has ever appeared in - I see her full name on a small piece of paper near the tree with a couple other names I do not discern). They seem to question whether or not tiny people really exist. One unknown male (Mikhail? - though vaguely like my brother Leonard) places about six or seven odd plastic animal figures near the door as “bait”. They are not to scale and include a frog, cow, horse, dragon, owl, and other animals, all about two inches tall. The tiny women somehow get the figures inside and the figures come to life. The frog tries to eat the cow but fails. Other figures try to eat each other in a chaotic scene but the scene changes. (I am viewing this as if the scene is magnified and I am perceiving from within the tiny cave, though this viewpoint changes in the next scene.)

The tiny man returns and goes inside the cave under the tree. I had wanted to talk to him more. Soon, a young Gregory Hines (February 14, 1946-August 9, 2003) is present. Apparently, he is the ruler of the kingdom of the little people even though he is of normal height. He now plans on eliminating everyone but the little people (and himself). As such, he calls another copy of himself to aid in the end of the world.

A sketch of Gregory Hines “slides” down a miniature skyscraper (though which is still about ten feet tall) that has the external surface of a flat disco ball. I watch as it nears ground level, each square shifting as the parts of the drawing “slide” down the side of the building. The drawing becomes three-dimensional and soon becomes the second “real” Gregory Hines but he is dressed differently than the first - in an unusual vertically pinstriped (dark gray and white) dance costume. I pick him up and throw him over my right shoulder (his head in back of me) and he kicks his legs. The first Gregory Hines looks on with annoyance. I am not sure what to do. I do not want everyone to be killed but I do not feel like carrying the second Gregory around or hurting him.

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This is the first time that my preconscious and emergent consciousness (not fully coalesced but still physically touching me and over my right shoulder) were both Gregory Hines. The two shirts event seems redundant of the concentric chocolate eggs event. It may relate to layers of consciousness within the sleep cycle or an unusual waking transition metaphor that requires a second prompt for coalescence (as I was in the dream state much longer than usual). The personified unconscious was the tiny man (validated by the fact he lived underground under a tree, a tree being analogous to the human brain only in some cases). This dream is atypical with regard to the miniature people factor. Most such dreams trigger lucidity and extreme vividness but not in this case. The high school basement classroom is a factor of the unconscious. The fall (or “slide”) down the outer wall of the disco ball building (also a “moon cessation” factor symbolizing the change in circadian rhythms) seems to be the otherwise common precursor to the “fall” of the emergent consciousness and vestibular system correlation.

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I explain this dream type further in “Dreams of Type PRECONAV-VSCPCEL, 01-15”.

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Night of April 10, 2017. Monday.



I am someone else and connected to the sales or delivery of a centrifuge. Knowing its overall appearance, it is not that hard to associate it with a poker chip carousel. There is ambiguity over time, in fact, upon deciding what it really is or what is really going on. The first scene is of men in white lab coats using the centrifuge. Still, cowboys from another time gather, apparently in a tavern. For a moment, a cowboy seems to be wearing a lab coat over his trail-worn clothes.

It is a questionable situation. There are about five cowboys sitting at a round wooden table playing poker in an old west environment - yet these same men are also somehow simultaneously standing outside in the street, but it can not be discerned if they are planning mischief (either inside or outside) or simply involved in social events with other residents. Only mild anticipation ensues. It seems to be morning. Birds are singing outside beyond the batwing doors.

Morning of April 10, 2017. Monday.



I am aware that I will be doing some sort of test or writing assignment (as apparently I am still in school) and I go into a store to buy a pencil. The cashier is Patrick S, my foreman (from Northern Engraving) who shot himself years ago.

There are three rectangular display wells on one side (in a connected sequence), with at least the middle one having several pencils in various conditions. I pick out a new yellow pencil that is not sharpened and which is featureless at both ends (that is, with no eraser on either end). I am thinking that there may not be a way to sharpen it (after being back in the classroom) in order to do my work. The cashier tells me that it is ten cents. As I pay him, I see that the pencil is now sharpened but is barely long enough to hold onto but also has an eraser. It seems odd but I do not put it back. The lead (graphite) is somewhat blunt and partly covered by the wood as well. Still, I do not complain (as I may be able to write with it as is) and take it with me back to the unfamiliar school. (I have a brief thought that the cashier might say something about the condition of the pencil but he does not.)

Back in the classroom, I see that there are already suitable sharpened pencils for the students, one near each empty seat, so I take one to use as I sit down. The teacher sits at my table, directly across from me. Oddly, he is also Patrick S (though implied to be a different person than the cashier). I do not consciously notice this impossibility. We each have some sort of workbook. The teacher (not having the answer at hand) is also to do the work at the same time as the students. He tells us that the work is on page 164. Even though we all go to page 164 in our own copy of the book, I notice that the number is 154 when looking later. (Still, I stay on that page.)

The task involves finishing a logic puzzle with a fishing theme. The entire page is filled with clues in the form of sentences, yet none of them relate directly to the solution other than one of the last clues (second or third from the bottom), which mentions catfish, largemouth bass, smallmouth bass, and a weight value (of the catfish). The entire table (with at least six events, perhaps eight) is apparently to have (at least) the person’s name, the kind of fish they caught, its weight, and the location it was caught. I look it over and find it rather strange. There are no names of people or places that I can discern in the clues so how would one be able to complete the table?

The teacher cheerfully mentions to me that there is more on other pages. I notice a couple blank tables on the next page but I do not know if it relates to the task at hand. Perhaps he means that I can do a different puzzle on one of the other pages, but I do not say anything and mostly regard the fishing-themed one.

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What am I "fishing for" here? My transient temporary dream self (a different incarnation in each dream, often which has no association with current conscious self identity), also known as the "personified subconscious", does not really exist, thus I am in the puzzled state (which does not occur in all dreams), seeking the return to my conscious self identity (otherwise known as waking up from sleep, literally). The part where the pencil changes has the essence of non-lucid dream control.

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Morning of April 8, 2017. Saturday.

Dream #: 18,373-03. Reading time: 1 min 46 sec.



Zsuzsanna and our family as we are now are at a futuristic craft fair. There is a big round table that rotates as it displays different sections of holograms of various craft projects such as teddy bear kits, stuffed owls, and clothing items. At times, they almost seem to solidify, and I get the impression that some of them do with a purchase. There is one point where “real” pins and needles seem to be on the table. The imagery is beautiful. I am thinking of what items I could get for Zsuzsanna.

I enter a mode of thought where I know I can create and control events but without dream state awareness. I mentally try to complete a Hot Wheels race track. It is difficult but a section at a time appears and eventually covers a long table. (The first part starts as a loop.)

I focus on an overhead view of several different kinds of candy bars displayed on a panel, possibly an advertisement on the tabletop. I try to cause the image to become “real” candy bars for us and our children. I become annoyed when my will does not seem to be strong enough. I slap the image with my right hand, and as a result, all of the candy bars become “real.”

Soon, I vaguely become aware that I am dreaming. Zsuzsanna and I are then on a big bed in a room filled with them. While on my back, we make love, with Zsuzsanna over me, leaning forward. Many other people are around, though most are in a different room.

There is an enhanced and sustained sense of touch. I do not want to allow RAS mediation to dominate as I am closer to lucidity. Still, the preconscious simulacrum appears as an unknown male of about forty, walking in from the left side of the big room. (All other dream characters remain on the right side of the setting.) He approaches the right side of the bed. I imagine a gun into my right hand and shoot him several times in the head and chest as the waking transition is already underway.

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There is a precognitive tag here as I did not know I would soon be seeing a scene from “The Scorpion King” where a rotating table of the same size and height as the one from my dream is featured. It might be a “message” in that the movie scene features a test with a sorceress putting her hands in various vases with a random placement of cobras. She pulls one out but controls it, thus displaying even more power (and control) than previously.

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Morning of April 7, 2017. Friday.



My family and I as we are now are watching television. At one point, it seems we are watching the movie “Firestarter” (1984).

Over time, it seems that there are some very strange changes in the movie as I remember it and I become more and more annoyed.

In a scene where Andy is talking to his daughter Charlie, he is now wearing a fireproof suit (where in the original scene he was in his normal informal clothes). I talk about how they must have covered up the image of the actor with some sort of CGI. I find the change ridiculous. (His face cannot even be seen as it is covered with some sort of material.)

Other scenes have been changed. At times, Lego people appear in some of the scenes instead of human actors. Another scene has a stuffed dog that moves about like a real one. The nature of the movie becomes more and more surreal. At one point, I am sitting on a bed, seemingly somehow inside the movie (but only for a short time) and a stuffed dog and a stuffed rabbit are present (the stuffed rabbit in the bed and the stuffed dog walking about near the bed).

I eventually decide that the television has become corrupt and needs to be rebooted like a computer so that television shows and movie scenes will be as they should be. I am in front of the television. Our youngest son is also present. I mention how I have to reboot the television.

I look on the bottom right of it but I am not sure what to do. On the bottom left, but mostly arranged vertically, is a set of about seven buttons. They are of different shapes, a couple horizontally rectangular and a couple vertically rectangular while others are square. I see that one of the buttons (the bottommost one) reads “SET”. I assume that this might mean “reset” so I press it and the television screen goes black and a sequence of dominoes (overhead view) appears on the screen. Our youngest son tells me that those buttons are only for the domino game.

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Morning of April 7, 2017. Friday.



I am in an unfamiliar apartment (in an unknown location; that is, no idea of the city or country), though it seems to be implied to be John Lennon’s. John Lennon (October 9, 1940-December 8, 1980) is seated near a table opposite the room from me and facing me. There are two unknown males in the room, one on the far left, one on the far right. I feel very good and have an optimistic attitude even though I am uncertain of who these other men are. They have scraggly hair and are of an unusual appearance. There is some conversation, but I do not focus on it that closely.

John Lennon goes over to the area near where I had been though I am now more near the center of the room. He inserts his left hand, up to his wrist, into an unusual recess (which is actually shaped like a hand) that is on the side of his microwave oven. I suppose it is like some sort of security procedure. There is no door on the oven. It seems to have fallen off at some previous time.

A man on the other side of the room seems worried and complains that he can feel the heat. I recall hearing that microwave ovens can be dangerous (especially with the door off), though I do not feel much concern myself. He uses it with the door off to warm up a bowl of something.

Later, there seems to be a normal oven in the room (though the room is not a kitchen), opposite my side, with the microwave now near the back of the normal oven (and facing the opposite direction). I can feel a lot of heat from the normal oven, though it is not uncomfortable.

In the last scene, the four of us walk to a dump (landfill). One of the males is carrying a large stuffed rat, which is somewhat cartoon-like and which is about half the size of a person. The male says he is discarding it because it “doesn’t talk anymore”.

As we are nearing a pile of trash (on our right) which he intends on throwing the stuffed rat onto, the rat says “Are you kidding, I’ve been talking all day”. (No one hears it except me.)

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Morning of April 6, 2017. Thursday.



For a short time, it seems that I may be at some sort of lecture (with an unknown backstory). The one talking is the Temperance Brennan character from the “Bones” television series. She is wearing a white lab coat. Curiously, there is a wall halfway to the left side of the scene where she seems to sometimes speak from behind it at an angle.

She leans out and mentions something about “flying colors” (in a serious tone) which I perceive as an important phrase.

A female cartoon character, who vaguely reminds me of a Peanuts comic strip character in overall appearance (though not any specific one), jumps up to the left and yells “Ee-glah!” at her. Temperance Brennan backs up in surprise and annoyance to go back behind the wall.

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Directly after waking, I am thinking that “flying colors” is not really a common expression as first perceived and that my dream was just generating gibberish. However, looking it up, I remember that “with flying colors” means “with great success”, though I do not recall hearing it much.

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Last checked and enhanced Tuesday, 25 July 2017: On “failed flight waking symbolism”, I have repeatedly stated that waking symbolism of this type, being inherent to the real-time dynamics of the dream state, is unrelated to the conscious self and real life for the most part. Despite the fact that the preconscious initiates the waking transition by saying something about “flying colors”, which means “with great success", the emergent consciousness factor (as a cartoon) forces her back behind the wall (which relates to metaphorical divisions of consciousness). It may seem contrary or contradictory to use “with great success” with a negative phrase such as “failed flight”, but in this scene, it is how it is rendered in the context of my dream and actually implies success (or otherwise I would not have awakened, get the picture?).

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Morning of April 5, 2017. Wednesday.



I am in an unfamiliar setting; a mostly featureless room that seems somewhat like a basement; that is implied to be either another world or an area near a portal where things can be pushed through to another location by teleportation. There is one other male present but I do most of the work. (The work I do in my dream is so physically realistic, my muscles feel tired upon waking and remain so.)

Firstly, I put a large wrapped ham on a square wooden table. There is a very large cardboard box, as high as my waist and about as wide as a doorway (and slightly wider than the table). We fill it with oranges in several stages. In the last stage, when I pour the last of the oranges in, they form an unlikely conical shape higher than the box height. However, I push them about so that they are soon even with the top, some of them falling into spaces near the corners. The event is otherwise very vivid and realistic, especially in touch and motion.

I am somewhat worried about what a challenge it might be to get the table and box (which are moved at the same time, the table in front while pushing the box) through the doorway portal. I somehow push them up a short flight of steps and through a doorway (though not the portal). After pushing them through a featureless room with a very vivid sense of physical effort, I learn that the destination is not nearly as far away, or as difficult to get to, as I first believed. The other male informs me that the doorway we need is just ahead (even though I had thought I might have to go through several other doorways and bigger flights of steps or even into a different building).

I soon am able to push the table and box full of oranges through a doorway into an unfamiliar classroom. It appears to be high school. The humanitarian work that the other male and I had done is known by at least a couple of the students and the unfamiliar male teacher and briefly discussed. I feel good about having done such a task.

Soon however, an unfamliar male student starts talking and asking the teacher questions about weapons of war, mentioning something about a missile. This annoys me somewhat and it seems like they are not really focused at all on what the other male and I had done. I do not say anything and soon wake.

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Morning of April 3, 2017. Monday.



My dream begins with the usual water induction (which at least one lucid or semi-lucid dream of every night since early childhood begins with). A group of about seven unidentifiable female forms (though typically variations of Zsuzsanna) appears reflected in silhouette on the surface of the slowly rising water, but rather than any type of cheerful ritual (including healing affirmations or those of several other types), my dream shifts into where they are eventually on a boat. There is some sort of backstory regarding the journey but it is not clear. I “remember” that they are from the 1920s.

My dream shifts into a (false) waking stage (which includes minor physical anticipation of the falling sensation) though my lucidity becomes more instinctual (and shifts into non-lucid dream control after the next scene) even though my dream remains vivid. The liminal waking expectation fades and I shift back into my dream (without a false awakening - only the continuation of the original ocean theme).

I then see a few men from the 1920s on some sort of unlikely open train in the distance. I seem to be hovering above the ocean in an incorporeal state. The rickety train is carrying livestock and supplies. They are going up a very steep railway bridge but which is actually a rollercoaster rising up from the ocean. The top is incredibly steep, but the train somehow makes it over the peak safely and begins to slowly go down the other side. (I do not recognize that it is a rollercoaster and continue to associate it as a railway bridge.) This event is metaphorical for the false waking expectation - that is, going up a slope but then going over the other side with no mishap, fall, or collapse. As a result, I focus on the boat of girls again (of whom I now associate with relatives or ancestors), but soon realize that their boat is not present. I notice a number of other boats. I wonder if they have become lost (which of course is analogous of losing my lucidity).

I am then on a couch in a very distorted version of the Loomis Street house. For example, a bathroom replaces the small northeast bedroom and the couch is near the center of the living room facing south. The large television is against the south wall (though in reality it was always out from the east wall with the couch’s back against the south wall). Zsuzsanna is on my left as well as our two youngest children on her left. Very curiously, my brother Leonard (half-brother on my father’s side), of whom I have rarely dreamt of in my lifetime, is on my right. There is a very unusual loud squawking noise. It turns out to be a brownish pterodactyl crawling on a cliff made up of clusters of smooth boulders (though which looks more like boulders near the ocean shore). I am trying to work out if I am seeing this on the television or if we are somehow looking through a hole in the wall into the past. I contemplate whether or not the pterodactyl will fall off the cliff, as it is getting closer and closer to the edge. Something within my mind makes me realize that this is a waking prompt symbol (just as with the rollercoaster railway bridge in the previous scene) and my dream shifts without me being lucid for the second time (though this is likely because there is an ocean association, which can cause reinduction).

Soon, there is a scene of Egyptian “gladiators”. I think it odd that a sticker book Zsuzsanna and our children are looking at has images that exactly match the design of what the “gladiators” are wearing on the television. Leonard points out the advertising on the armor that a few of the Egyptians are wearing. I do not consider how ludicrous it is that ancient warriors would have modern commercial symbols and English writing on their armor. One of the symbols is the McDonald’s logo engraved on the armor just above the warrior’s waist. This is curious as it is made up of two upward and downward slopes so could be seen as a waking precursor symbol just as the earlier rollercoaster railway bridge of the similar shape. The phrase “phone home” is also engraved lower down on the armor. (This is hilarious as it symbolizes communication between dream self and subliminal threads of conscious self identity, yet once again, I do not catch the dream dynamic).

My dream then shifts into vivid liminal space. I find myself walking out onto the porch (most common liminal space setting and often the last setting in a dream due to its nature). A group of unfamiliar people wearing fancy clothes from the 1920s are seated in at least three locations. Still, one male closest to the open living room door (on the right of it) seems to be dressed more as if from the late 1700s. I decide to ask what year it is. The unfamiliar male near the doorway starts reciting curious (but unremembered) poetry, with something like “three years beyond 1921”, soon informing me clearly that it is 1924. Looking out at the street (through the porch windows), I notice a number of cars from the 1920s, yet I do not see the car that the girls are supposed to be arriving in.

The other male gets up and needs to use the bathroom. He seems very cheerful and friendly. Because the porch is a “different space” apart from the main dream setting, he seems very much in awe when going into the living room and to the bathroom door since that part of the house is “my time” (as in contrast to this dream’s personified emergent consciousness), though I remain on the porch, watching him through the doorway. However, the bathroom door is locked from the outside and he does not know how to use a knob lock. He returns to the porch, still in awe yet seeming very happy. I tell him that I am from 2016 (not remembering it is actually 2017). I tell him that I will unlock the bathroom door for him. Instead, he starts touching my face, hands, shoulders, wrists, and arms, pressing his fingers against me as if he thinks I am not quite human, me “being from the future”. I tell him (at least twice) that I am a “hologram”. (This is technically correct. The personified subconscious, always the dream self in first person when not lucid, as it certainly is not the conscious self identity, is technically a type of hologram, especially as the dream self certainly does not have a real physical body either.)

He continues to push his fingers against my face and begins to smell me, while remaining very cheerful. The sense of touch is extremely enhanced and “accelerated” here. Coalescence (dream self unity of all other dream characters - where all the dream characters quickly merge into the dreamer like blobs of pale light into a swimming pool) soon occurs and of course it is me who has to actually wake up to use the bathroom.

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Understanding dreams and dream dynamics:

• Water remains my most common form of induction (and real-time symbol for sleep) and this is apparently true for the whole of society, as the majority of commercial relaxation, meditation, and self-hypnosis tapes have included the sound of the ocean, a river, or a waterfall.
• The metaphorical waking precursors (especially the rollercoaster railway bridge where I actually felt a slight physical shift into liminal space even though I was nowhere near it) not completing and instead bringing me back into the dream state is not that common (especially when I have to wake to use the bathroom). Instead, it took my personified emergent consciousness to bring me out directly (though still oddly sustained). (I assume he was not my personified preconscious even considering the porch setting as he was not aggressive or confrontational in any way and there was no additional shift other than last-stage coalescence.)
• I presently associate my brother Leonard with fake news (which he is continuously posting on Facebook). This is likely to be a dream sign here, “fake news” being analogous to being in a (non-lucid or subliminally lucid) dream. Also, he is on my right, and the emergent consciousness precursor often has its event horizon on the right. (This is developed out of reading from left to right and a number line being oriented left to right, not on the disproved concept of left-brain and right-brain.)
• The seeming contradiction of the waking precursors not completing is likely biological and based on circadian rhythms. Even with a need to use the bathroom, the body still requires a certain amount of rest. (It is also possible that the anticipatory muscle states being mixed, that is - both whole body and bladder pressure - were responsible for the atypical dynamics and truncated symbolism.)
• This dream utilizes an altered setting based solely on dream state and waking dynamics, where the emergent consciousness goes towards the bathroom, which replaces the real bedroom. This is directly symbolic of me needing to leave my bed and go to the bathroom. The door is locked, so I still need to physically wake to use it (though often dreams render peculiar bathrooms or annoying situations as a trigger to deliberately bring the dreamer out of sleep).

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Morning of April 1, 2017. Saturday.



I am at first floating over an early evening scene (though it is still daylight) of 1940s gangsters driving around, possibly in Chicago. Being semi-lucid, I automatically perceive the foundation of the dream state as a “blissful flood” (and have since very young), with water flowing in slowly, with beautiful vivid reflections. As water symbolizes sleep and the dream state (even as in the “Little Nemo” comic strip), I feel relaxed, even though some of the gangsters now sit on the roofs of their cars, appearing frustrated that their activities were interrupted. My semi-lucidity fades slightly and I then absentmindedly wonder if this is part of a movie where things had gone wrong with the set due to water from another set (perhaps for a Navy movie) going past a barrier.

Having been incorporeal, I now seem corporeal. The gangsters eye me suspiciously but do not seem dangerous. I ride with Zsuzsanna in a Venetian gondola, though I do not see the oarsman. Our boat slowly moves past them as they sit on the tops of their 1940s cars to our left, the water halfway up over the windows. Zsuzsanna and I are intimate as my dream moves toward the waking transition (and waking transition symbolism in contrast to dream induction symbolism).

The water seems more shallow as we go through a tunnel. At first, I am wary of going into a tunnel. It appears that some sawhorse traffic barricades fall over from water coming in from “over itself” at the end of one part of the tunnel (which makes no sense - as if the water was halfway up but somehow solid or remaining in place even at the opening (perhaps somehow jellified), with some “normal” water moving over the original level somewhat like a small waterfall).

There is light ahead and I get a very vague memory of when Pinocchio was inside a whale, though I do not think that is the case with us. “That’s it, over there,” I say as I point. There is a loose association with the television show in April of 1986 about Al Capone’s vaults (“The Mystery of Al Capone’s Vaults”).

A young Geraldo Rivera sits on straw on a slightly damp surface inside a larger hollow area. He has a bottle of wine (possibly meant to represent the sole bottle of bathtub gin originally found in the vault). I look very closely at the bottle of wine because there is writing on it. I need to read it and understand its meaning. The brand name of the wine seems to be “Cortex”.

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Even though the preconscious (when it is personified) is almost always a different character, it is easily recognizable by additional clues (often either direct or subliminal identification as the waking prompt and the particular level of consciousness just prior to waking, as the role of the preconscious is to make the dreamer more aware of the fallacy of his temporarily skewed dream self identity and bringing the dreamer out of the dream state) as well as mood, shift in the clarity of a dream, and dominance in many cases. In this case, the common water induction transmutes to the waking symbolism. “Cortex” is a direct clue; “the outer layer of the cerebrum, composed of folded grey matter and playing an important role in consciousness”.

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Morning of April 1, 2017. Saturday.



This dream falls into a similar theme as a dream of September 2016 where whatever I write becomes part of my dream (rather than saying an affirmation to create dream scenes). Still, I never become lucid.

In one scene, my wife Zsuzsanna and I had been together for a year or more but, according to my dream’s backstory, we had not been married. I write a sentence that reads “Zsuzsanna and I have a legal marriage license”. I do some sort of hand motion over the writing, and then slap the wall (“Supernatural” television series influence, it seems). A sheet of paper that looks something like a certificate appears out of nowhere on a picnic table. It is apparently our marriage license. An unknown female claims it does not seem real, as certain writing on it is not raised (or embossed). However, looking at a real marriage certificate, it seems of the same (correct) design.

In another scene, an aircraft carrier moves towards a beach. It is tipped to one side and moves out and in with the waves for a time, lengthwise to the shore - the top facing towards land. It is vivid and dramatic but there is no threat to me. (It does not seem to be sinking.) Oddly, the airplanes do not move or slide off at any point. There is vague concern that one end or the other may cause damage to buildings near the shore, but this does not happen.

In another scene, I decide to eliminate a large portion of the world’s population. I make sure to include “except for me and my family”. I am outside at a picnic table and George C. Scott (October 18, 1927-September 22, 1999) approaches. I have not yet slapped my writing (which is on the surface of the picnic table) to instigate the event.

An unknown male is with George C. Scott and gives me advice on how to utilize my idea. I am to write that George is my uncle and that he will be going back in time to just before humans came to exist (though I am not at all aware of what the situation implies). The unknown male tells me that the name is written with two S’s, inferring that it is George C. Sscott, which does not seem right to me, but I write it anyway, though it still somehow comes out as “George C. Scott” and he complains about the spelling. I make a couple mistakes and have to write it again, one being “George S. Cott”, another being “George Scott”.

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Morning of March 26, 2017. Sunday.



I am in a distorted scene where the main characters seem unknown, but could be implied to be versions of certain relatives, especially as I am in a variation of the Loomis Street house’s backyard. There is no fence on the south side as was in reality.

The neighbors to the south are in a house that is to the west a full house distance more (into what otherwise was the backyard) than the real location. The neighbors seem to be versions of neighbors I had in Florida as a boy but their daughter is not seen. However, I do hear the father and his supposed daughter arguing when I am outside at night (apparently when she is visiting, though she is much older than her parents, which makes no sense; that is, she is about fifty and the “father” seems in his thirties). Someone loudly says, “That is a really stupid thing to argue about”.

There is one scene where I am lying on my left side at the northwest corner of their house. It is still nighttime. The man comes out (from what seems to be the back door near the northeast corner of the house) and is oddly not angry at my imposition (though he still seems annoyed and seems to take on a somewhat sarcastic attitude). He throws a blanket on me and tells me to have a good night’s sleep, though more to himself as he thinks I am sleeping. After he goes back inside, I get up and go to the other backyard.

The main scene involves an unusual vegetation feature on the back of the Loomis Street house (to the left of the back door when outside). There are at least two large vines, one growing oranges and the other grapefruit. Mixed in with these dense plants are a large number of spiderwebs and many golden silk orb-weaver spiders, both adults and newly hatched.

A few people visit and say that I could probably sell the citrus fruits. I pick one and it has a lot of small bumps on it, the peel yellowish in spots. The rest do not seem fully ripe. The vegetation goes very high; up to the roof. I would need a ladder to get many of them. I get the impression that people would not want to buy them due to small spiders possibly being inside some of them, though mostly just under the peel. (Considering that I lived next to an orange grove for years, it seems unusual that my dream self thought of citrus as growing on vines.)

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Morning of March 22, 2017. Wednesday.



This is a very long and vivid dream with a lot of different events. The location is not known, but it is implied to take place in our home in most scenes and there are rooms from various houses we have lived.

I become aware of what I first think is a snake that is hanging down from a hanging planter. Soon, it flawlessly transforms into a long leaf. I start talking to my family about what I had seen. I want to film it but for some reason the camera is not available, which annoys me. Over time, this creature changes into many other things, based on some sort of learning curve related to being in the same place more than once. I do not refer to it as “extraterrestrial” until the last segment, although I am not sure if it really is from another planet.

I handle this creature, which in its original form, is some sort of worm. At times, it is more like a miniature egg though is very malleable; somewhat like clay, somewhat like a leech. I place it on notebook paper and it transforms into a pencil. (This same scene occurs at least three times, as I repeat my experiments to see what it does.)

In some cases, it merely changes color when I place it on a surface, though its color always perfectly matches the surface color. It does not really seem to try to escape when I hold it.

There is a scene where I drink a cup of water or other liquid at a table. My throat feels a bit strange, as if something is stuck in it, and I look down into the cup and see that the liquid is filled with tiny pale worms swimming about in the water, all upward and out from the center. A young black male tells me that what I am drinking came from McDonald’s. He tells me how he did not want to be a part of it, but that they put these creatures in some drinks and normal earthworms in others as some sort of test. The several worms I had swallowed become one large one after I remove them from my throat. I am not concerned in any way. It looks just like the original worm.

I place it on a moped seat (which for some reason is indoors, the room seeming like my den on Stadcor Street, the moped facing the doorway though leaning against the wall). The worm oddly transforms into an unusual human-like girl (who remains sitting on the moped) but hairless and with bright pink skin and slight feline characteristics. The other male looks on and scowls. “Oh no, I’m having none of this,” he says.

Most of the rest of my dream involves more experiments where it goes through a number of intriguing and even beautiful multicolored changes. I also place it on a pillow in one of the final scenes as a dream-sign-based waking precursor, with non-lucid dream control.

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This dream is all about transformation and adapting to the dream state as the worm does not change anything else; only itself, as an amazing analogy to one type of dream state alchemy, though the worm exhibited far more of a natural and automatic control than I ever had in non-lucid dreams (although I have transformed into different things in the past, including both animals and furniture as well as utilizing invisibility, phasing through walls and roofs of cars, and flying since early childhood). Of course, there is a big difference between adapting to a dream or dream environment and fully controlling a dream.

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Morning of March 19, 2017. Sunday.

Dream #: 18,353-03. Reading Time: 1 min 38 sec.



Ben Walton (as from the fifth or sixth season of “The Waltons”) finds a litter of bulldog puppies in a large basket near the end of an alley. There is a male that has unusual markings. I am not sure if someone else is still looking after them (though Ben may have bought the puppy).

Before getting the puppy, Ben performed calculations and concluded that once an adult, it would produce offspring, possibly with the same markings, with a pedigree, even though it would technically be a mongrel. It will supposedly make him rich.

Later, there is a scene where Erin and Ben Walton are playing a game at a small table. They appear to be gambling with boxes of drinking straws. Ben has about six straws (which seems to mean he is losing), and Erin has two.

Erin finds some notebook paper with Ben’s writing and somehow understands that he was using a calculation to gain an unfair advantage (even though he was losing in this case) regarding the supposedly special puppy. She starts complaining about his selfishness and supposed cheating.

He reminds her of the supposed proverb “Visit yourself before you visit someone else.“ It supposedly means that you should look at your faults or limitations before finding fault with others. It turns out that his calculations were incorrect and the puppy will not make him rich after all.

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My dream changes into an unrelated scene. Nancy (with Ronald) Reagan (July 6, 1921-March 6, 2016) is on an airplane flight to California, traveling from somewhere west, going over the Pacific Ocean. She is going to have and raise two of our babies (possibly male and female). I do not consider how outrageous that is. I believe that Zsuzsanna and I will be able to meet them one day (when they will only then learn that we are their real parents).

I watch a monitor near the top of a wall in an unfamiliar building. It has four digits in an LED display that require reading from right to left. The original value is “0 0 3 1” at one point (to be read as “1 3 0 0”). I wait in anticipation because it is supposed to read as “1 1 0 0”, which it soon does. It means that she had one baby, and then two hours later, the other one. (There is skewed logic whereby “two hours” is subtracted from the three to read as one baby.)

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