Blue_Opossum

Morning of April 26, 2016. Tuesday.



I am on a raft made of logs of which is floating on a body of water, but I am unsure if it is implied to be the ocean, a lake, or a wide river (though ocean seems the most likely). Over time, I notice a few empty rafts in the distance on each side of me, though more to my right.

My dream becomes somewhat abstract. I try to use the raft as a trapdoor to flip it over to enter another realm.

Flipping my raft (part manual effort, part mental effort) makes the other rafts in the distance automatically flip in unison with mine, though I somehow remain atop my raft when it flips. The implied “doorway” under each raft is black and seemingly without the presence or essence of water. I know that I am trying to wake up or at least enter a clearer level of awareness within the dream state even without viable lucidity. Going down into the water as well as the supposed dark “doorway” would imply dream induction. Still, I try for several minutes and eventually notice Zsuzsanna on a different raft. I get the impression that flipping my raft will send me through the implied portal up and onto her raft as a mostly subliminal act of “retuning” to our bed. This works and I am with her, by her side, and quickly wake.

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This is the first time (at least in recent memory) that a dream rendered a raft as a “door” (or as potential doorway waking symbolism). It makes sense though, as the water body implies going deeper into unconsciousness and a raft additionally implies autosymbolism of our bed, and again, was even perceived as such by my dream self.

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Morning of April 22, 2016. Friday.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are living on Barolin Street though my family and I seem mostly as we are now. (We moved from there in the first part of 2008.)

I am planning to go out through our back door from our kitchen to vacuum our utility room, which in real life has a concrete floor but with some of the area being bare ground. I am not focused on how futile it would be to vacuum near or over the bare ground and I illogically consider that our backyard might need some vacuuming as well.

As I am dragging our vacuum cleaner easterly through our kitchen, I notice puddles of water here and there on our floor, which our vacuum cleaner’s power cord may have traversed. I try to determine where the water is coming from but I am not sure if it is from our vacuum cleaner or had already been there as the result of a spilled glass of water or a leak from our kitchen sink pipes. I also wonder if I should continue on to our utility room even though our vacuum cleaner is not plugged in yet. My dream fades from this point as I am looking down at our kitchen floor.

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As with many dreams, other than when literal prescience is a factor, this dream has no connection with waking life other than real-time biological associations. It is based on a distorted unconscious perception of the cleansing process that occurs during sleep, in which water is most often a circadian rhythms factor in symbolizing the dynamics of sleep. To help you understand, here is a quote from npr.org on “Brains Sweep Themselves Clean Of Toxins During Sleep”: “During sleep, the system that circulates cerebrospinal fluid through the brain and nervous system was ‘pumping fluid into the brain and removing fluid from the brain in a very rapid pace,’ Nedergaard says. The team discovered that this increased flow was possible in part because when mice went to sleep, their brain cells actually shrank, making it easier for fluid to circulate. When an animal woke up, the brain cells enlarged again and the flow between cells slowed to a trickle. 'It’s almost like opening and closing a faucet,’ Nedergaard says. 'It’s that dramatic.’”

The above quote also explains why water as induction (dream state initiation), and why water getting lower over time as waking symbolism, has remained a consistent factor in thousands of my dreams for over fifty years, occurring in at least a few dreams each night.

This validated biological symbolism is also why the vacuum cleaner hose seemingly has an ambiguous association with a garden hose in this particular dream. While a vacuum cleaner sucks in dust and dirt through the hose (inward dynamic), a garden hose washes away dust and dirt (outward dynamic). This is known as composite synthesis (in this case, the circadian rhythms cycle ambiguously mixed as a type of dream state economics, that is, mixing such elements in unification due to critical thinking skills and viable time orientation not existing in unconsciousness). Because this is a biological dream and not based on waking symbolism (other than there being less water in contrast to more water), it can be determined that the focus on cleaning the backyard relates to cellular cleansing processes regarding the human digestive system.

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This entry has been resupplemented on Wednesday, 16 August 2017. I welcome intelligent comments only.

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Morning of April 19, 2016. Tuesday.



There is some very intense sensuality and lovemaking several times throughout this dream of the type that leaves me intrigued, but it also has a science-fiction-like plot.

I seem to be some sort of watchman (in mostly casual clothes; no uniform) for a particular unknown and unfamiliar city in possibly the distant future. It has something to do with making sure no one goes near or uses any reactors, along with things relating to electricity and “old” technology.

There is a point at which I discover someone had started to utilize a reactor and I go to investigate. It seems that time had somehow shifted or I am in the “wrong” town. A man (unknown) in a policeman’s uniform (including a helmet) tells me that the town is going to utilize the reactor when I warn them it is against the present federal laws and that there may be radiation that will make many people ill over time. He does not agree and asks me for identification. He even pulls a gun on me. We argue a bit and I continue to tell him that it is my responsibility to be a watchman of this town.

Finally, after he makes a couple other comments, I just firmly say “No…no…I am the ultimate authority here! I am!” and shoot him in the forehead twice. The people do not really react but the reactor is shut down. (As a reactor would represent conscious energy entering the dream, not lucidity but possibly just waking up, it seems I prefer to stay in the dream state at this point.)

There is a (one of several) lovemaking scene with Zsuzsanna with me on my back in an outside area, seemingly on concrete and near a man-made river. One human witness appears. There are also several wild animals nearby; lions and bears and such. I say, trying to sound somewhat friendly, “aw…go away now…” but the person just stands there looking at us curiously until the large wild animals flee from my louder voice and knock them over (into the river) on their way to jumping into the river to “escape” me. They transform into a cluster of large but variously-sized bubbles sailing across the surface of the water to the opposite side. When they transform back, they are all mixed up. I even see a giant skinny frog (about five feet tall) and an oversized male plumed basilisk (about half the size of the frog). They seem to be struggling to pull themselves out of the water. Some of them are still “half-bubble” and a bit melted-looking. I am not sure if any but the frog makes it.

In another lovemaking scene, Zsuzsanna is younger and has a raised butterfly pattern (flight symbol though there is no lucidity at any point) on her back (not a tattoo image, just raised skin which I mostly feel rather than actually see).

In another scene, I am indoors and there are several different females, all unattractive and seemingly arrogant as they lounge about. One is standing at the front of the room like a leader of some sort. A couple of them make sarcastic remarks about me not finding them pleasant to be with, but I pull out a gun and shoot them in the same manner (in the forehead, twice) as the guard from the earlier part of my dream. One of the females seems about six feet tall and is almost completely round and lying on her side on an elevated (about five inches or so) trapezoidal section of the floor. Finally, a young version of Zsuzsanna appears and seems concerned. I tell her that there is nothing for her to be concerned about and we hug intimately and say “okay” back and forth a few times. This is a transition point (a partial awakening and my dream shifting to a different one) that represents unity and coalescence (dream self merging back into whole conscious self). Of all the different types of dream events, hugging has always seemed the most intimate and peaceful, even healing in nature and is much better than the falling transition in my opinion.

I shift to a surreal scene in an unknown apparently elevated city (the time seeming to be mid-afternoon) with someone on a unicycle (my left) and a dwarf in some sort of pedal car (my right). I seem to be on a skateboard or possibly just floating along on air in standing position. We all seem happy and the other two are sort of singing gleefully. We are suddenly blocked by a chain-link fence (liminal space between dreaming and waking). A man about eight feet tall (on the other side of the fence and representing my emergent consciousness in this case) in a 1940s suit and very thin (and reminding me of a thinner version of Lurch from “The Addams Family” with an essence of the Apple Droppers from “Yellow Submarine”, the latter being a downsized waking transition “warning”, that is, the dreamer as a potential falling apple), not menacing at all, cordially opens the gate for us. We continue to ride along but soon see that the edge of the street and sidewalk just stop (like a cliff), thus the fence was more for pedestrian safety it seems. The view of the rest of the city is in the distance and far below. The two other dream characters cannot stop in time and go riding off the edge and shout “Whoa!” and hover in midair for a very short time before falling (like in a cartoon). I feel a sense of hilarity and feel only a vague sense of falling even though I had not gone over the edge (final waking transition event) and seem to now somehow be on a unicycle at the waking point. I find it hilarious that the two other dream characters went suddenly falling instead of me experiencing the direct waking mechanism. This has happened before and I always find it silly and amusing, almost like a “glitch” in the waking process where “I am” (dream self perspective and identity) is for whatever reason instead rendered as “you are” (projected affirmation to a secondary character) even as the transition occurs.

Morning of April 15, 2016. Friday.



I find myself in an unknown area, seemingly indoors, with no memory of much of anything. I think that there may be some sort of movie being made but this is not certain. The setting may be either a movie studio or a warehouse for movie props.

There is a large (apparently uprooted) tree on its side. The area with the roots is very large and complex. There is another (unknown) younger male character present.

I look more closely at the area of the large roots and notice a number of “eggs” between sections of the roots. However, these “eggs” soon seem to somehow be very small egg-shaped mechanical men that are also somewhat like egg-shaped garden gnomes. I cannot really determine the nature of the setting at this point though I decide that the tree is some sort of very odd movie prop.

One of the “roots” is actually some sort of lever. I pull it and a human-sized mechanical man emerges from the underside of the tree, from within the roots (as if the bottom of the tree is mostly hollow). The mechanical man is dressed in ordinary clothes and emerges stomach down with its arms forward, but moving with a sort of slower butterfly stroke swimming pattern, but also implying it is “reaching out” towards the other person. This “reaching out” is only incidental however, as this mechanical prop would always do this same routine whenever someone pulls the lever. I find it somewhat amusing and vaguely familiar, though I am not really focused on what sort of movie this big prop might be for. In a way, it reminds me of me when I was perhaps around twenty years of age.

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This is a very strange (and for me, entirely unique) waking transition. The butterfly stroke as being relative to swimming is an excellent hybrid flight symbol and simultaneous water emergence metaphor, similar to a manta ray, stingray, flying fish, or flying sub association.

Instead of climbing a tree as related to moving through another level of conscious awareness within my dream, my dream-self projected “mechanical me” (which otherwise symbolizes the “unreal” aspect of the dream state itself and the lack of a “real” physical form for the dreamer in the dream state), comes from inside the tree, and from the underside, as metaphorical for waking up. (Of course, “movie” is a replacement word for the dream state, though as stated before, fictional dream characters curiously also use “movie” to describe a real-life event.)

This is probably one of the only times I have seen a tree in a dream symbolize birth or awakening and as representing motherhood (validated by all the little egg men which are analogous to human ovaries, the tree roots being analogous to fallopian tubes in this case). Very curious. I am otherwise very familiar with this symbolism since I have documented hundreds of dreams which utilized this same basic template (including “The Tadpole’s Ghost” and “Red Wagon Teleportation” and many others). However, I am not aware of any dominant light source (or beam or ray) in this dream, though which is probably implied to be the seeming daytime setting itself (though I do not recall seeing a sunbeam coming from a window or doorway).

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Updated on Friday, 1 July 2016: I forgot that “coming out of a tree” could also be a play on “The Lorax”, who came out of a tree after it was chopped down. This then, would also seemingly be a reference to mortality rather than just birth. “The Lorax” was broadcast first on Valentine’s Day in 1972 and my father died on Valentine’s Day in 1979. The connection seems obvious now. There are probably hundreds (more like thousands) of markers like this in my dreams which I have not discovered yet.

Morning of April 14, 2016. Thursday.

Dream #: 18,014-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min 30 sec.



My dream starts as a typical painting and maintenance dream. The setting is a version of our present home with a fictitious open room between the lounge room and dining area where a big wardrobe against the west wall is between them.

I have clarity as I enjoy my work. I have an occasional concern about paint dripping on folded clothes on wardrobe shelves and the floor. It is light blue paint that changes to a cream color and back to blue. It occurs (several times) when switching back and forth to the different rooms. At one point, I am concerned by the thicker ridges caused by having slapped on too much paint.

Above our bed, a short distance from the ceiling is an artistic feature left by the former tenant. There are red ribbons in a trailing frame pattern that partially enclose a large and rectangular piece of tinfoil that blocks about eighty percent of the view of the ceiling. I try to paint around it.

I see a large and ancient painted tapestry. The paint seems to have expanded and blurred over time. I recall that all I have to do is touch something to refurbish or perfect it. I feel the upper right corner of the tapestry. As a result, it becomes beautiful and more defined as I watch, more detail clarifying the image in a slow sweep from right to left. I think I will finish painting the walls this way. Even so, the walls paint themselves in a light cream and blue pattern as the previous lumps and minor cracks smooth out.

I summon a haunting (regular in dreams since childhood). I pretend the room is haunted, knowing if I concentrate, I can bring about a haunting. I read various large letters and word clusters on the wall. An unknown female, a professional investigator, who reminds me of actress Helen Kleeb as in the 1970s, writes down what I say, most of which is gibberish I spell out for her.

Eventually, I say, “Oh, it’s a name.” It is Rosemary Berry (unfamiliar, but it reminds me of other rhyming dream names, such as Tony Karoni). I report “Ms” appears before the name. (It is possibly an association with “MS. Found in a Bottle” by Edgar Allan Poe, or Matisyahu’s “Message in a Bottle.” I have recently listened to it and made a version. However, the “MS.” of the Edgar Allan Poe story supposedly means “message” in only some sources and “manuscript” in more credible sources). I am glad signs of a ghost are present even though I am aware it is the result of my pretense.

Suddenly, I am a little boy of about eight years old, and I see an unfamiliar friendly boy (a ghost of a former resident) walking up to a jagged hole in the wall. (This “doorway” is a haunting feature, and other people who are present cannot see it.) I am aware his name is Hamlet. The investigator is supposed to be my mother now. (Helen is the name of my wife Zsuzsanna’s mother). I tell her about Hamlet. She says, “Oh” and remarks with seeming frustration and disappointment, “You’re just dreaming!” She thinks the Rosemary Berry incident we shared previously was a dream. I feel her condescension, but as I am a child, there is not anything I think I could say. She towers over me to my right, and I feel like a child in size contrast.

We walk through a parking lot (for liminal modulation, typically the last setting in a dream). After looking at documents she was carrying in her bag, she cautiously says, “Oh…Hamlet was one of the former residents…” (with attestation emphasis on “was”). She looks at me curiously as I wake slowly.

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Morning of April 13, 2016. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,013-03. Reading time (optimized): 2 min 15 sec.



As in real life, there is machinery and noise at the corner where they are removing a big tree stump. However, at one point in my dream, it seems to be occurring earlier, before sunrise. I go into the front (computer) room as well as onto our front porch. Somehow, the machinery is causing vibrations that alter everything in the neighborhood by causing dirt to vanish from deep in the ground throughout the location, causing the topsoil to collapse, of which I get a strong impression, which creates an unusual but vivid physical awareness of the whole setting and its changes.

Our home shakes and vibrates. I am vividly aware of large sections of dirt falling from the underside of our house. I think this may eventually interfere with the plumbing or electrical system. It does not occur to me that this is an invalid concept as there is no dirt on the underside of our house (as it is on stumps with the ground over two feet below it).

My concern about our house changes in an offset dream of about the same clarity. I decide that, since they are removing a stump from a public area, I should remove the buried stump from our backyard near the fictitious southwest space and west fence. My dream’s setting of our whole yard (though most everything else in our neighborhood, including our house, stays of the same orientation otherwise) looks nothing like our yard other than if the external layout is mirrored from north to south and from that, flipped east to west, yet with the real-life stump otherwise near the southeast corner (though not of the same appearance as the tree stump in my dream) rotated ninety degrees west.

It does not take much effort at all to dig a little bit and pull out the large tree stump solely with my bare hands, interestingly enough, though this impossibility does not dawn on me at all. I carry it around to our front yard and also see that I have found a sign buried near the stump. I bring it out to the council workers who are mostly sitting on the curb or working across the street. One man, while sitting on our curb, looks at the sign (which is about two by three feet but very light wood) and seems puzzled.

“I did this one,” he says, referring to the white sign which has his signature under a filled-in work number from several years ago. It turns out to be a warning to not touch the buried stump (despite the sign being underground as well) due to it being highly toxic. (I do not question why the city council would bury a toxic tree stump from elsewhere, such as a park, in someone’s yard.) This exchange causes me to feel foolish in having removed the stump but also to question why they are removing tree stumps from public places while burying poisoned ones in people’s yards.

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Update (July 2020): My dream was partly telepathic, but ironically, the information I was picking up from someone turned out to be incorrect. After this dream, a taxi driver told me the city council would be removing all the trees on our street (which has not happened). He oddly assumed that the new posts around the trees were for poisoning them when they were mostly to hold reflectors.

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Morning of April 11, 2016. Monday.

Dream #: 18,011-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



My dream is a science-fiction scenario, but it seems as if I am in a movie. It may be taking place in the present but with fictitious technology. I am with an unfamiliar girl and an unknown man. There is a teleportation system. The girl has a black spider pillow (about the size of a couch cushion) that looks somewhat cartoon-like. There is a teleportation mishap.

I am lying on the ground in the woods with the two others. The girl is sleeping to my right. Most of the legs had come off (or had been cut off by the teleportation malfunction) of the spider pillow (a play on my dream self not having real legs). It briefly squeaks as if it is alive or is a robotic pet, but this idea fades, and it is only a pillow.

Instinctual awareness of being asleep (the pillow, sleeping in my dream, and quantum Zsuzsanna sleeping near me) does not trigger conscious recognition I am dreaming. (My waking-life identity is absent.) I wonder what is going on. (As a spider visually represents the human hand, this is a possible play on having my hand on or under the pillow while sleeping.)

Another teleportation malfunction occurs. It seems to be part of a spying technology but goes awry. We end up in a candy and confectionery manufacturing building in New Jersey.

We wander around while the girl seems to have breathing issues. An older woman who behaves like a housekeeper on an old American sitcom gives her something that I first thought might be candy but is medicine. It takes place in a big room where numerous long wooden tables are in an equidistant arrangement.

My attention wanders to where I try to find something in a big telephone book (seeking communication while in the dream state). I search through the yellow pages, but I am uncertain if this is what I should be doing. Soon, I seem to find what I had intended to see more of - movie listings. The print on the small movie posters is so little as to be unreadable. The features are on two panels shrunk down and rotated to be displayed lengthways. It seems to be because movie posters and theater scheduling information is not as important as residential and business listings.

I mentally magnify the page to read some of it, but soon realize I am doing it without a magnifying glass. As an illogical consequence, my sight returns to normal, and I cannot read the tiny print. I realize I need to find a magnifying glass, but I do not see one.

I am in the Loomis Street house living room, but I still see it as the candy factory. Long chunks of dust hang from various areas of the ceiling and walls. It seems no one does any cleaning. I consider I should vacuum the rooms even though I am not an employee. On another level, it seems natural that more and more dust should accumulate.

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Morning of April 10, 2016. Sunday.



In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar building which seems to be in Japan, or at least I am aware that the building is Japanese. (I have only been in Japan for a short time for one day in my life in reality in my move to Australia.)

After a time, a tooth on the upper right (which I do not even have in reality - which is ironic) feels slightly loose. I move it with my tongue. I end up pulling it out with my fingers even though it is not that loose.

After this, I am aware of my mouth bleeding from the area I pulled the tooth out. I go to the sink (which is illogically in the unfamiliar bedroom I am in, on the opposite side of the room from a large window) and keep spitting out thicker blood. After about five or six times, I start to wonder how much more blood I can lose (it seems like a lot) before I start to feel differently or even pass out. No one else seems to be around at that point. It slowly dawns on me that I am dreaming, which I find somewhat amusing in that my dream self fell for the losing teeth scenario yet again (though it was more common when I was younger).

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Other than when it is relevant to an actual real-life focus (such as recently having a tooth pulled or having an actual toothache), I sincerely believe that dreams of losing teeth have no “interpretation” at all as it seems a common waking transition component, which in actual cause, is simply the dissolution of the dream and the cessation of the dream self (since using one’s mouth is a main way of acknowledging one’s consciousness and wakefulness to others and the unconscious self cannot speak - so the dream renders a focus on the fictional dream body’s mouth as losing teeth - pretty simple), just as falling, rising into the air, or suddenly tripping, or even seeing something falling from the sky is (of which also typically have no “interpretation” and are simply a natural form of the waking transition). Still, I think this bleeding may relate to acknowledgement of the energies of my internal dawning consciousness and physical form in a similar way that tripping over in hypnopompia is acknowledging the dream setting does not physically exist during the waking transition. The color red also dominates a dream when I have been asleep a bit too long.

I will note however, that when I was younger, most such dreams proved to be precognitive of which teeth I would actually be losing in a specific order. The only way to explain this would have to relate to some sort of foreshadowing regarding body awareness that is presently not understood (which of course does not explain all the other types of more detailed literal and visual prescience). This one is the reverse though. That is, it is the literal memory of already having lost the tooth, though assigned to a common hypnopompic distortion.

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Morning of April 7, 2016. Thursday.



There is a backstory to my dream of having collected water from a shallow pond. I am not sure of the setting or its location. My sister Marilyn (half-sister on my mother’s side) is nearby and as she appeared before I moved to Florida in 1967. My family as they are now are also present at one point.

I look into the water and below the surface I see many implied one-celled animals (which you can only clearly see with a microscope in real life). Marilyn also looks on.

I see a glowing transparent centipede, swimming downwards (which puzzles me since I know centipedes are not aquatic), forming a moving staircase shape (like a mobile escalator) eventually going out of sight. The one-celled animals (mainly protozoa) swim down out of sight but are visible at other times.

Eventually, a small fish jumps up out of the “aquarium” which surprises Marilyn. I am somewhat surprised as well, because I thought I had gotten the water from a pond that was not deep enough to be suitable for fish. I am not sure where the fish is after the jump, perhaps on the floor. (A fish out of water represents the dreamer coming out of the dream and as a result, my dream shifts to the waking transition.)

Later, I am holding an antlion larva. Over time, I notice blood on the tip of one of my fingers. It seems that it had been biting me (even though they do not bite in my experience). However, it also seems to instead be the result of a hangnail. Still, I ask my sister whether or not antlions eat people.

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Again, a fish is a projection of the dream self in the dream state (and water represents sleep and the flow of thoughts in the dream state). The one-celled animals may be a reference to minor neuron activity or a subliminal association with other dreamers. An aquarium is a downsized focus on the dream state itself, representing the human mind on one level.

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The unlikely “phasing” centipede swimming in the water represents a shift in consciousness. In this case, as it swims deeper, it forms a symbolic staircase to link to the nonlinear events throughout my life and down into the depths of the unconscious. This is evident by the link to a version of the original childhood “Taboo” dream (sparsely recurring, no more than perhaps four times) and upon checking, I found markers and parallels. It has the same basic setup; that is, looking at an aquarium of (visible to the naked eye) one-celled animals, though this was in third grade in 1970, one version found to be on today’s date exactly forty-six years ago (and which appears to have been partially influenced by the movie “Jigsaw”, about a man finding a body submerged in a bathtub). I have not held antlion larva much since third grade. This ending element represents a typical waking transition because an adult antlion resembles a dragonfly, which is a flight symbol. The bloody finger may be an association with our youngest son’s hangnail. The reference to “eating people” is a reference to coalescence and the dream self merging into whole consciousness during the waking transition (especially the association with “lion” as a lion is often a form of the more aggressive emergent consciousness). Also, an antlion is shaped somewhat like a human thumb, where my youngest son’s hangnail was. The antlion’s mandibles may be an association with the hangnail itself.

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Other phasing staircase references (as the “water centipede” in this dream) can be found in dreams such as “Rocket Science?” (July 2, 1976), where a sheet of typing paper mysteriously “rolls” down from the ceiling (which represents the liminal state between sleeping and waking) and forms a staircase pattern or brief “escalator”. This focus greatly intensified that dream. A similar event occurs in “White Noise Staircase” (February 21, 2014). Identifying phasing staircases may be beneficial, since I believe that it may also be relevant to a deeper bond with the Source and wholeness, as a staircase is a link between sleeping, dreaming, and waking).

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A centipede may be a dream’s rendering of the human spinal cord. In water (as in this dream) it serves as both a reminder of the human physical form as such and immersion in the dream state via the staircase or escalator metaphor. On one level it is the energies of my unconscious awareness returning to the Source. In the first version of “Taboo” from 1970, it was more about “sea monkeys” (brine shrimp) on one level. These “sea monkeys” also represent the human spinal cord.

Morning of April 6, 2016. Wednesday.



In my dream, there is a vague awareness of something in our ceiling where we presently live on W Street; perhaps two bicycles, or perhaps (eventually, relating to a shift) only two bicycle wheels. It is almost abstract and hard for me to discern in my shifting levels of awareness.

Soon, I am carried “back” to my bed by a very small helicopter that is gray and almost transparent. It actually is not even big enough to have carried me if this had been implied to be a real event. I am slightly puzzled as it flies off through the ceiling (as if passing through it like a “ghost”) without causing any damage either coming in or going out. The word “phasing” comes to mind as I am aware that is what happened.

Even after recording and decoding dream after dream for about fifty years, I still continue to be intrigued by the seemingly countless ways the waking transition is rendered in metaphor, this being a component of “resolved flight” (as in contrast to “failed flight” or simply “falling”). The most natural transition from a dream is simply the falling experience (and coalescence is probably second). Over time, because of the development of so-called civilization, dreams became more and more complex. What used to be just falling has now developed into thousands of variations, using flight symbols of various types and other associations, even the altered perspective of watching something else flying or falling near the waking stage, from airplanes to kites to penguins out of their environment (a hybrid symbol of the “failed flight” component) to meteors to even flying snakes and flying saucers. In addition, other forms of “displacement” and waking are often rendered, from going up or down staircases or in elevators, skiing, climbing, and so on, and sometimes with very unusual combinations.

Here, there is also the implied liminal space of something above the ceiling (between sleeping and waking); a bicycle, which is also a type of flight symbol as clearly explained in other entries. A helicopter is an obvious flight symbol and has particular associations as do all flight symbols including symbols that have wings but do not fly. A helicopter’s rotor is analogous to a tornado (essence of the Source and higher consciousness) due to its spinning motion and as a result, can be linked to the Merkaba as a “vehicle” to higher levels of awareness. Here though, the helicopter is greatly downsized, gray, and almost transparent (and even a bit sketchy). My dream was not very vivid. Still, I did not “fall”, but was “returned” to my bed by this curious little vehicle, the “middleman” in this case.

Morning of April 3, 2016. Sunday.



I am present in a three-dimensional animated setting yet I do not perceive it as representing a cartoon or featuring cartoon characters. Scrooge McDuck has a large new airplane. Huey, Dewey, and Louie are present and look on at him in puzzlement regarding his “car repair” activities. We are apparently in the basement of one of his mansions.

It seems that Scrooge McDuck does not know that he has an airplane and instead thinks that he has a large fancy car. As a result, he thinks that the “car” could use a lot of work. This includes taking the propeller off the front as well as sawing off the wings.

In the end, it seems that he still might find it a bit difficult to drive the “car” up the stairs.

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The basement setting is autosymbolic of having been in deeper sleep prior to RAS mediation commencing.

The staircase is precursory autosymbolism that represents the liminal anticipation of the waking process, in this case, going up the staircase to achieve consciousness.

Scrooge McDuck as my preconscious avatar, rendered to correlate with the waking process dynamics, is in the usual preconscious scenario of resolving the vestibular system correlation inherent to the dream state, which is based on resolving the illusory physicality of the dream self. Both an airplane and a car typically represent the physical body in sleep as a factor of vestibular system correlation, but as an airplane flies, the transformation is autosymbolic of resolving that the real physical body is in bed, with the anticipation of the falling sensation typically experienced as a biological factor of the waking process no longer present.

With this dream type, my preconscious avatar has the essence of the emergent consciousness factor, which is shared by the potential of the car going up the stairs.

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Morning of March 31, 2016. Thursday.



I find myself in a new composite setting and this one is mostly modeled after the Cubitis living room. What is different is that the door to my room is not present and a bed is aligned along the west wall (which would have covered the door had it been there as in reality). Also, the front door to the carport is instead implied to be an arched opening to another room. Very light blue curtains hang down over the area.

I am lucid but not yet near apex lucidity. Still, I focus on my perception for several minutes. Being directly linked to the preconscious and my conscious self identity, I start to think about the nature of ghosts and such (and creating a haunted house adventure) but I soon change my mind. Instead, I decide to create a sexual encounter. As curtains over an otherwise open doorway is a form of autosymbolism that designates division of liminal space (the metaphorical “barrier” between dream self and conscious self while in the dream state), I use it to vivify and sustain my dream as I have done in many other dreams. (Additionally, a carport or porch is liminal space in both dreams and reality and is typically the last setting when occurring in a non-lucid dream. Knowing this as I have since childhood also aids in vivifying a dream.)

“The hand and arm of a beautiful young girl will emerge from between the curtains,” I say. Very soon, a graceful female’s hand and arm is protruding from between the curtains. I feel a strange but very pleasant sensation as if a veil is being pulled up and my clarity grows and intensifies. I then add more scenario detail and the ideal form of Zsuzsanna eventually steps out with an incredibly friendly and familiar essence. She is dressed only in light blue lacy lingerie. We make love on the bed (I am on my back and she is over me, facing me) and eventually my dream shifts as I allow it to. It is the same setting but there are other people present now, mostly relatives and a few unfamiliar people.

I notice an Archie comic book on the table (on the opposite side of the room as the bed). It is open to a story where Archie seems to be interviewing or at least talking with a football player. Jughead is seated nearby. There is a plate with a piece of cake on it. I effortlessly will the small slice of cake out of the comic book onto the table and eat it.

“Wow, this is the best cake from a comic book I ever had. It is fantastic!” I say. I pretend to almost pass out with delight. Witnesses, especially the personified preconscious, eye me with suspicion. The cake really is delicious, but perhaps they think it should taste like paper.

As the drawing still exists on the comic book page, I will it out again and eat another of the “same” slice. “This is the best comic book cake ever!” I exclaim. I pretend to fall over backwards in ecstasy (the bed is now on the opposite side of the room by my will) and I deliberately decide to become unconscious and of course becoming unconscious in a dream is waking up into reality or so it is with me when I choose (though sometimes I wake when I wish by opening my “other eyes” in a dream, though this is hard to explain, but I have done it all my life with certain dream types, even non-lucid).

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Night of March 26, 2016. Saturday.



Sometimes I think that if a dream ever rendered a setting correctly, without a feeling of bilocation, or indoor and outdoor ambiguity, or of a unique composite or changes in directional orientation or colors or other details, I would not to know what to think at all. In this dream, I am technically looking at my old family home in Cubitis yet with the idea it is our present home even though my dream occurs directly after falling asleep for a short time during a nap this night and I had not been inside that house since mid-1978.

Not only that, the Cubitis bathroom is an altered setting as it is. It is larger to where the west wall (where the doorway also is) is long enough for both a large squarish porcelain sink and a stove (with large oven) with four heating elements, both features on the door’s right (and the right of the stove being directly near the northwest corner, it seems). The setting remains in semidarkness (with no implied light source other than apparently the hallway light). I do not focus on the east side of the room at all - I am only ever aware of the basin and stove that are next to each other. (In reality, the sink, which was much smaller than the one in this dream, was on the north wall, near the northwest corner.)

Fire is one of my most common dream features second only to water. There have been other dreams of attempting to put out a stove fire with water. In this case, curiously enough, the fire starts from behind one of the stove’s dials (rather than a heating element or pan being on fire). The dial itself is extended horizontally outwards a bit more from the top of the stove than would be logical (or perhaps it pulled out a bit farther than intended) and the four dials are located beyond and behind the heating elements rather than above the oven.

Concerned about this event, I flip up both switches on the wall (which are next to me, immediately to the right of the door and above the sink) even though I am not certain about which direction (up or down) is on or off (as up was always “on” in places I lived in America, but in Australia, it sometimes varies even within the same house, though up is often “off”). I “know” that the switch on the right is for the stove and the left one is apparently for the hot water availability for the left faucet/tap (which of course is not realistic at all). Still, this is illogical enough to cause my dream self to become puzzled for a short time (though not lucid). Does the switch turn off the water completely or only the hot water?

I am able to fill a glass of water and throw it at the fire. It takes about three attempts before the fire is under control (even though it is only around the dial).

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Fire usually relates directly to growing conscious awareness within the dream state (and some fire dreams trigger lucidity), which seems validated by the concept of growing awareness of the light of day (including sunrise or dawn even though this dream was at night) as well as being “brighter” in clarity and perception. Awareness of fire seems to make a dream more vivid. As I put the fire out, my dream loses its vividness and I soon wake.

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Morning of March 25, 2016. Friday.

Dream #: 17,994-03. 2 min 48 sec read.





I am with Zsuzsanna and our family as we appear now, but we live in an unfamiliar (to my conscious self) house. It has a minimal essence of the Barolin Street house but without its appearance.

I look at our backyard. There are two sets of railroad tracks parallel to our house, the first not more than ten feet away. My dream’s imaginary backstory implies there was a flood. The ground had been gray and gravelly. After the flood, there is rich topsoil of a bright brown. I remark on this beneficial outcome.

Later, I look through a large window into our backyard and see a snake slowly crawling away. It resembles a copperhead. I tell Zsuzsanna, and she says it may be venomous.

I look again, and it is unrealistically large in the middle of its body (as if it has a potbelly).

It returns to our backyard but is now upright like a cobra. It has two humanlike muscular arms and moves over a set of railroad tracks as if “strutting” yet without legs. I wonder if it is a legless lizard.

I speak to Zsuzsanna in our kitchen. The back door, mostly glass held by a narrow metal frame, had fallen inward though I am unsure why. I do not want the snake getting in, so I prop up the door against its frame.

I hear an unfamiliar male voice and am briefly puzzled. I realize there is a bathroom on the other side of the wall. I think it is part of an infrequently used park ranger station connected to (the other side of) our house.

I see a gap under the baseboard, and the voice becomes more audible. I realize an unknown man is talking to me in a sarcastic tone. I pretend I am unsure where the voice is coming from while I speak to Zsusanna about it. “Did you hear that?” I ask her. “It seems to be coming from the other side of the wall. Perhaps it is a recording,” I say, mocking the unseen man.

At least five park rangers in tan uniforms (this dream’s typical protoconsciousness manifestation) walk into our kitchen. I briefly relay details to them about the unusual snake. I threaten to call the police (but I do not) after the men start to move objects on the highest three shelves of the cupboard. They are dusty, with a layer of black ash (an association with the cane fires here in real life when ash fills parts of a house’s roof and even falls through loose crown moldings). The man that had spoken earlier reminds me vaguely of Burl Ives.

They rearrange various objects, including empty salt and pepper shakers, knickknacks, and an antique white ceramic teapot. They do not retrieve anything and can barely reach the shelves. They shuffle objects about, and I hear their soft glass and metal impacts.

I find myself holding a belt (somatosensory phasing response to REM atonia). I am ready to swing it upwards to strike a hand with the buckle if one of the men reaches toward the shelves again. However, they now only stand around, looking up at the shelves as if slightly puzzled as my dream fades.

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In my first “crucial review,” I explained the factor of tripartite mentation, which dissolves the mistaken belief of “dream interpretation” when there is metacognitive causality. In this dream, the railroad tracks (as in my first report using “crucial review” in the title) epitomize the latent potential mobility of Zsuzsanna and me as we sleep, the specific association being with the human spine. The correlating associations here involve a snake (in this case) doubling as a “human spine” traversing one set of railroad tracks. On one level, it is “me,” being chubby, but I also have muscular arms.

It is not the first time snake and belt associations have correlated. “Striking” the hand of the protoconsciousness personification (with the “fang” or prong of the buckle) would have produced myoclonic dynamics had the phasing responses resulting from the waking transition continued. Note the “potbelly” association with the teapot (“I’m a little teapot”). The tie to ceramics and REM atonia (statues are predominant) has occurred all my life.

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Morning of March 21, 2016. Monday.



I am with my family mostly as we are now (though I seem to be much younger at one point) where we presently live on W Street, though the house is bigger. Our kitchen is much bigger and has an extra counter running from south to north on the east side of the back hallway, with extra shelves above it. As I walk through our kitchen at one point, I notice a lot of loaves of bread and what seems to be cheap birthday party items (such as unopened packages with paper hats, paper plates, and cheap novelties and party favors and such). I am not sure whose birthday is upcoming.

At one point, there are a lot of Matchbox Cars arranged on different surfaces, mostly in two rows. A couple older males appear in our house eventually, though I am not sure of the reason. There is something about one of them trying to find a certain Matchbox Car, but which is a car from the 1940s. I try to help but I am not sure where everything is. I know I have most of the ones made in the 1960s. I think the Mercedes 300SE may be relevant but I do not say anything, only that I may be able to find what they are seeking (though I do not).

There is illogical setting distortion for a short time where I seem to shift outside and back inside while just standing in one spot (though the view may be implied to be from our window, though as a requisite it would have no screen or curtains), where I am looking at one of the men (who must have teleported there but who is back for the next scene) in a small light yellow golf cart (facing away from the west side of our house on the footpath) which seemingly resembles a downsized Roadster Hot Rod from the 1940s and I remark that I have a Matchbox Car like that, which is not exactly true as I firstly mistake the golf cart for an old car design and then consider I may be thinking about a different model, yet it really just looks like a modern ordinary golf cart upon a closer look. I feel a bit unusual and ineffectual in designating a new golf cart as a 1940s hot rod but the scene shifts again (though the scene itself seems random and like a “glitch” or like a very short dream within a longer and more vivid dream that slightly altered its flow).

Interestingly, Jack Odell (March 19, 1920-July 7, 2007) is present and walking about for quite some time. I am not sure why he is spending his time here for a day or two. We are talking about various aspects of Matchbox Cars (as the time period seems to shift physically only at one level and my collection is not present as it was just previously - though our sons still have many Matchbox Cars in their own rooms) as well as other ideas, including the unfortunate end of product quality and customer service in modern times with poorer and poorer design and less and less longevity and usability in anything made. He reflects on various events. I tell him how I used to keep my Matchbox Cars in a large suitcase. For some reason, I visualize all of them piled atop each other within the suitcase (it was actually a large black typewriter case), but in reality, they were kept in the original box. I tell him about the very first Matchbox Car I was given, which I cannot quite remember the name or number of. I give a couple details about it, including the green boat for the rack on top, and he seems to know what I mean.

“Ford Love,” he says, smiling. (It was actually a Ford Corsair.) I consider that Ford Love is a “real” model and nod hesitantly (since I do not want to call him wrong), but possibly not the one I had, though I do not say anything. He seems happy and nostalgic and I feel I am spending a day in a “realm of good memories” - yet I also seem puzzled as to why such a wealthy and well-known person would spend a day or two at our house, especially in such an informal and friendly manner. There are dream remnants that seem like “echoes” of long periods of conversation, like a subtle “phantom audio” that only some dream types produce.