• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    Blue_Opossum

    1. Alligators

      by , 06-20-2015 at 08:00 AM
      Morning of June 20, 2015. Saturday.



      My wife and children and I are again living on Barolin Street where we have not lived since March 2008. There is a fictional body of water in the backyard which first seems like a river (in a similar orientation as a fictional feature in my dreams about Cubitis where it replaces the railroad track area) but is later a swimming pool that is much closer to the back of the house. My dream “resets” a few times, and it is as if I am creating or forcing the drama at a background level. This is one of those dreams of a type I have not felt in some time, which is a strange type of sleep paralysis but not full to where it is lucid or as blissfully enjoyable, where my legs have a strange sensation all over the skin that is hard to describe - along with a bizarre anticipatory feeling or the nerves in my legs having been augmented to an almost overwhelming level. This happens on and off after waking several times and quickly going back into the same dream as a “reset” (usually with a slightly different sequence). Thus there are at least four or five versions of this dream within the same time period (though a more common event when I was younger). This dream also seems to have more “immediately reset and replay” scenes than usual.

      In the primary version and main outcome, I notice a huge alligator head that had emerged from the surface of the water behind our house. At first it seems amusing, though over time, a part of myself seems to force elements of my dream for dramatic effect. A few times, I typically am aware I am creating my dream, but yet am not lucid or self-aware at my dream-self level. This is a common state I have never really read about in all the dream literature I have seen and yet is my most common “normal” way of dreaming.

      There is a scene where I am describing the alligator to two unknown males who had been in a canoe on the river. I say how its head was about as large as half the living room though I realize that is an exaggeration.

      There is a scene where two cats (one being our real black-and-white cat Franco, the other unknown) fall into the water of which is now of a swimming pool. I am looking out a fictional back window from what would otherwise be the kitchen area. An alligator head emerges and swallows the same cat a few times (in “resets”) and I feel upset and also realize my children will be very upset though I do tell them in most versions though it ends up to where the cats were not swallowed or eaten at all.

      We still have to abandon the house and leave the area to the alligators. At one point, there is a fictional male that seems tiny and he falls down the front staircase (with a strangely cheerful manner), which are much bigger and with more steps than in reality. I do not regard his miniature nature at all. I only know we all have to leave to avoid being eaten by the alligators, of which there are perhaps six or seven.

      My dream continues to jump back and forth with “resets” and replays in somewhat random and completely incongruous sequences (even for a dream) even though I retain all the main dream scenes after waking. Long ago, I decided this was some sort of “practice” function of dreams, which may be why some people cannot remember or resolve their dreams in the manner I usually do in that, because so many different versions of a scene or outcome resulted, the dream becomes muddled or uncertain in singular details (which do not exist due to there being several versions of the “same” event). This may also explain in-dream deja vu, where your dream-self had forgotten the first version of a dream sequence while still in the dream.

      Most of the events seem to occur at night, though the cat scene was well-lit (though possibly with outside lights on the eaves of the back porch). We “escape from our home and do not return” a few times in a row. Each time after the “reset”, the setup becomes more and more ludicrous. There is one bizarre scene where I am aware of an alligator having put a ladder against our house to climb up and enter through the window like a person. (In fact, it is as if my dream-self is trying to force this to happen - though it never does.) In this case, the living room extends to that side of the house where the bathroom would otherwise be. Also, the (one-storey) house seems a bit higher up. (In reality it was on stumps, but the first floor not at what would be perceived as second-floor level when compared to a normal house.) I become vaguely aware I am creating my dream at this point, though with no lucidity. There is also an idea they will start coming in from the south end of the house (which has a fictional layout including a hall rather then the outside side staircase entrance leading directly into the living room).

      My wife also had alligators in her dream at the same time, with no real-life prompts (other than her seeing something I did not in a children’s book from the library); a type of partially shared dreaming that has been happening continuously for a few years - though often based on something my wife was thinking while awake that I could not have known about.
      Tags: alligators
      Categories
      non-lucid
    2. Barry Hides Out

      by , 06-19-2015 at 09:01 PM
      Morning of June 19, 2015. Friday.



      This dream apparently related to something my wife had been thinking, though did not tell me (at least recently) regarding dislike of the singer Barry Manilow due to him (or a song at the time) reminding her of when her father moved away. I have not actually seen him or heard any of his music (to my knowledge) for about twenty years.

      Barry Manilow is supposedly accused of murdering someone (victim unknown) - or so the in-dream back story seems to imply. Somehow, when he is fleeing the authorities (who are not that far behind), this relates to him giving my wife a set of documents in public (outside of a commercial building of some sort, possibly near a shopping mall), possibly important records of some sort, that somehow prove his innocence. It does not make much sense and my dream does not really go anywhere or resolve anything. There is the idea that he is hiding out (not with us but somewhere nearby) until his innocence is realized. He seems only about four feet tall in my dream (at least at one point), but I do not regard anything as unusual as my mind is not that “present” in the events.

      From here, my dream breaks off (while still in the same dream state) into a completely different focus. I am driving my brother-in-law Bob around (which never occurred in real life - he was the one that drove people places). I am not sure of the setting, as it seems mostly unfamiliar. There is some sort of concern about not driving too close to La Brea Tar Pits, which are somehow just beyond the edge of a cliff. I somehow maneuver the car so that it goes somewhat sideways (a carryover from a recent dream about a bus driver doing this). I make some sort of comment to my brother-in-law about La Brea Tar Pits before my dream meanders off into abstract settings and fades.
    3. Not Quite Hansel and Gretel

      by , 06-17-2015 at 12:39 PM
      Morning of June 17, 2015. Wednesday.



      I become somewhat lucid but not enough to where my conscious focus becomes more dominant. I am somehow in the “Hansel and Gretel” story (though there have been no associations with it that I know of for a long time) and my lucidity sort of remains dormant after this, though there is no concern over my potential fate considering the scenario.

      Not much happens at all. Gretel is unknown (though may be a younger version of my wife, though her appearance shifts a few times). We end up in the witch’s oven fairly quickly with not much of a back story. (The witch is like the one from “The Wizard of Oz” from 1939 - possibly even the “same” character.) I do not seem very alarmed and somehow believe that if we go farther to the back of the oven we will not be harmed. After this, there is a shift in perception and the oven seems to be or become a long featureless brick hallway we are just suddenly walking through, seemingly for a long time (though there is an odd skewed perception that we had not gone very far from the door of the oven). The girl walks ahead on my left looking back as if wary of me or if she is not sure who I am - though I am not quite sure of the situation. This seems to go on like some sort of minor epic event and then suddenly changes into walking out into a (unfamiliar) forest somewhere.
      Categories
      Uncategorized
    4. Irradiated Railroad

      by , 06-15-2015 at 09:46 AM
      Morning of June 15, 2015. Monday.



      This dream starts out with a fairly clear and detailed scenario (like one of yesterday’s dreams) yet does really not make any sense - and also, like my other dream, I am not directly involved at any point.

      There is a group of people who are trying to escape from another group of people, possibly the main people behind a new infrastructure who want to eliminate certain descendents in certain families. There are mostly dark-haired males who are the targets. Some of them are hiding in a mostly empty wooden building (I assume one storey). There is one person who has been chosen to retrieve and remember vital information, in the form of numbers, from newer people coming in to hide in the building (though which are apparently unlikely to survive due to the other people discovering their hideout), to eventually leave to report them to someone else. This does not have any logic to it at all, as the numbers relate to important data concerning human populations - a number for each town in a larger region it seems (and a total of about seven or eight numbers at least), yet it is only the partial value in decimal, for example 0.891426 or similar. The whole numbers (the most important, and in fact only relevant part) are missing, which of course renders the decimal part pointless unless someone can impossibly match the whole number with the decimal part. (Apparently, there is another group of people who have the whole number values). As it is, it still does not make any sense, as you cannot have a fractional person (thus the number would only be a whole number anyway).

      At any rate, the person gathering the decimal values is able to get out as their enemies find the hideout and most of them are killed. From here, my dream fades or shifts into another situation and my dream-self has no knowledge of the outcome of the previously established scene. (This dream segment was likely based on seeing the “Arrow” episode “Left Behind” the night before - where they were trying to work out the significance of part of a list of numbers though which had different context for the most part.)

      Unlike the previous situation, I am fully in-body and actually in my dream. I have to get somewhere, possibly for delivering information, or perhaps finding a location to select for residence (which seems more likely). Still, it is not that clear. What I do know is that there is the idea that the railroad tracks I will be walking parallel to for much of the way give off powerful electromagnetic radiation (which supposedly eventually kills a person or greatly shortens their life), which is something to do with how the trains run. (Supposedly it is safe to be on the trains, just not on the outside near the tracks). This also seems to relate to some sort of conspiracy where people are warning others due to the government not giving this information about the serious dangers.

      Even so, I walk along late at night and hear and feel a strange buzzing, which seems to have an effect on my perception (very vivid, but not dawning lucidity). It is an isolated area without many land features. There is one train station (which is supposedly safe) though I keep walking, not feeling endangered, yet somehow aware of the radiation entering me.
    5. Water and Ice

      by , 06-14-2015 at 12:34 PM
      Morning of June 14, 2015. Sunday.



      My dream seems impersonal and somewhat “distant” in ongoing associations for the most part, though it does not seem vague or distorted. It seems that the small population of a rural area, likely a farming community, needs help from the government in getting rid of excess water from their land, especially after some sort of winter flooding, but apparently, no help is ever given (and I get the impression this has been happening for a few years). I seem to be on the scene at one point, though it still seems relative to a news broadcast being filmed (though I am just a bystander). A chubby older woman comes out and squeezes water from her apron and skirt, apparently on the perimeter of their settlement near an embankment, and makes an assertive claim of how they are doing what they need with no help (that is, by the soaking up of the icy flood waters in their clothes and then squeezing it out elsewhere), though with a trace of sarcasm against her local government (which is not in the immediate rural area but an adjacent town where I can make out some buildings). I am not sure of the location or even the country that is implied, though it may be in Australia.

      At another point, there is a seemingly unrelated scene (and shift in level of perception to clearer detail and brightness) of a dark-haired baby sliding down the side of a snowy hill in a more urban area in someone’s front yard where other people are also gathered (the snowy hill implied to lead down to the sidewalk and street). It seems to be a boy and he is wearing a thickly padded blue snowsuit and hood and is just rolling and sliding around (with no sled or anything). At first, I am concerned about the baby sliding around like that on his own, as he flips over at one point, going sideways, but he is uninjured and seems mostly emotionless but very alert. I also get the impression that the scene is being filmed by a family member. I feel fairly close to his face at one point but am not aware of my body and am seeing him from his eye-level in the last scene as his hood is slightly pulled back from twisting around during the last sideways slide. He seems very healthy and strong.

      Updated 06-24-2015 at 12:37 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    6. Goodbye Glitch (Paranormal)

      by , 06-12-2015 at 12:46 PM
      Morning of June 12, 2015. Friday.



      I had been posting on a particular dream journal site in real life (and many will know instantly what I am referring to) that has come to have what I “affectionately” refer to as the “raining tilde” glitch (see image). Being that my main dream journal has been on tumblr, I did not focus on how to “fix” this facet of my life experience on another site as it was not really that bothersome. However, once an entity steps in (or whatever “version” of my wife exists on “higher planes”), I can do or “solve” anything I choose, depending on whether I accept the nature of Yin and accept that I am Yang. Real or not, the evidence always speaks for itself whether or not the rest of humanity is remotely aware of it (and typically…no).

      While being frustrated at the neatness of an entry in a typical fashion, it suddenly dawns on me that the “magic” (or whatever it is that “made” me in my Yang persona) is always available to me as it has always been. (I did after all marry my dream girl, with countless validations and proof it was what I thought it was since just prior to my birth. It means nothing that humanity is not capable of believing or even seeing at that level.)

      A version of Yin sends the Blue Pearl event and I realize I should get to work enhancing my journal on a particular site - because any real effort requires focus. Stupidly (regarding only on the human level rather than omniscient - as omniscience is usually too overwhelming for me, almost like a tidal wave quickly going out and flowing too quickly back), I “solve” the “raining tilde” glitch (again, with the partial guidance of a younger version of Yin) but only partially. I end up editing (making my edited post mostly blank) and filling out all possible tags as quickly as possible with the word “test” (followed by a number) on a large number of recent entries, so it forces out the “raining tilde”, and then I repost the complete entry. I feel quite stupid for not taking care of this long ago and realize it will probably take a few weeks in a few longer sessions to do this (although relating to my extreme typing speed, it is not really bothersome). That is only because I suddenly realized the potential for a more uniform neatness in the particular online journal and would even donate (monetarily) to the site if such a need arises.

      Yin tells me that the “raining tilde” glitch was placed in this universe to “test” me, in a metaphorical “rain on my parade” tease (or imposing on my writing - even thinking - in a playful way - which may be a partial association with another dream of this day about pushing the trucks out of our yard) - a metaphor I was familiar with in my youth, and which is somewhat amusing.

      I look back and realize that my “Rocket Science” dream featured what was reminiscent of a tilde (although I do not think that is what the fluttering and descending staircase-shaped paper represented). Then there was the dream of the giant derby that rained over the ocean. These ideas are dominant for a time, but only loosely associated with the tilde problem.

      After thinking I can at least eventually fix up my journal, Yin slaps me upside the head (which seems to mean that she is wondering why I am editing the entire entry each time) and winks twice. I do not get this, but I do eventually understand there is a game-like nature to eliminating the irritating and completely irrelevant word cloud (word “cloud” apparently being another play on raining in the sense of being annoying - although real rain, I enjoy). Also, I then see how to prevent the pointless and random dream dictionary tags from appearing on my page (because so-called dream dictionaries are a serious offense against any thinking dream worker or any conscious person in general).

      Finally, I realize that Yin is referring to two semicolons with her two winks (as used in an Internet emoticon). I then tag with two semicolons and see that I now have the option of closing the repeat occurrence of it - since it actually makes the “raining tilde” glitch - which makes me feel very eerie (even “otherworldly”) in the confirmation (I originally thought it was impossible, as it was not even a real typeable character and acted more as a graphic glitch since it could not be copied as text), which eliminates the original glitch as well (as does all repeating of irrelevant word cloud instances and often completely unrelated “dream dictionary” links). In other words, I now know how the “raining tilde” glitch is mimicked for quick erasure (as well as saving a significant amount of onsite bandwidth over time - due to the impossibly long repeated link sequence that is rendered even if not clicked on). This means that the entity solved three problems at the same time on several levels. How amusing and quaint. Better late than never.
      Categories
      memorable , lucid
    7. Ousting Imposers

      by , 06-12-2015 at 12:38 PM
      Morning of June 12, 2015. Friday.



      In this dream I seem to be living in a skewed version of my childhood home in Cubitis yet again. However, the neighbors are seemingly all different and it seems to be in present time. The time throughout at least the first two parts of my dream is at night, perhaps around nine o'clock. I am with Zsuzsanna as we are now for the most part. To the south live another married couple, I think, and they own two cars, which for some reason are parked in the southwest section of our lawn, the back of the cars right near our windows, both cars facing south. This annoys me, but that is not the worst of it.

      Just outside our windows, in our big front yard, is a large vehicle which mainly resembles a container truck. There is an additional truck which also seems to relate to an industrial or commercial venue; some sort of semi-trailer cab or utility vehicle though it reminds me of a Matchbox pipe-carrying truck I had as a child. One truck is parked facing south and the other facing east, parked in our driveway. I am very annoyed at why people would park like this in our yard. I start yelling at one point, at no one in particular, though the unknown female in the other house looks through their northwest window and says that the trucks are not theirs. Although I am annoyed by the cars parked in our yard, I say that the trucks are far more annoying to have parked right next to our windows. Both trucks look like they might be from the early 1970s or earlier. I am not sure where the drivers are.

      I decide to go out and do something about the situation. Somehow (without any implied special powers) I am easily able to move the truck manually by pulling on the front bumper and it rolls to be perpendicular to where it was and now faces east towards our house. I give it a shove, and it rolls backward across our entire large front yard, goes across the highway, and stops on the other side near Kenny and Karen’s old house. The other truck, I do the same with, as I doubt anyone would know what happened or what I was capable of and I feel very good and assertive in doing this. I push it with slightly more effort and it goes a bit too fast and nosily flips over while crossing over the small culvert and lands on mostly its side, though partly leaning on the first truck. I feel a sense of pleasure and wish I could see the reaction of the drivers who had the audacity to park in our yard. An unknown neighbor mentions something about it and I make a claim of how they were so easy to move as such due to them being on wheels.

      Later, my dream shifts slightly, and my wife and I are on a large bed at the end of our driveway, head of the bed to the south and adjacent longways to the highway. We are starting to make love. A group of people are walking south down the highway, all somewhat drunk. One mildly intoxicated male stops near our bed and holds his beer bottle on it (near my head) as if it were a counter. I start calling him numerous extreme curse words and ask him if he thinks this is a public place (which it is not, as we are technically in our driveway). As I am yelling, my dream shifts again, though I have a residual confusion about why I would have the bed outside and especially right off the highway. It seems related to just having augmented boldness.

      This time, there was a “fictional three daughters” carryover from a recent dream. However, this time the fictional three daughters belong to my wife’s sister Judy - though I get the impression they are recently adopted, though they have a somewhat Middle-Eastern appearance. For some reason, Judy is rolling her eyes to where the pupils and irises almost vanish (and only white is left showing) and I comment on this in a humorous tone, saying something about her trying to see her own forehead or something similar.

      My dream fades when we are all in the kitchen and there is something involving both the preparation of food and something about working with some sort of educational craft. I get the impression I had been eating too much of something from the refrigerator’s freezer but cannot recall what it was; possibly some sort of weird fictional food item, though I also take some Salami sticks out to eat from the refrigerator section after this.
      Tags: strength
      Categories
      non-lucid , memorable
    8. Riding a Bus Again

      by , 06-11-2015 at 09:13 PM
      Morning of June 11, 2015. Thursday.



      This is a somewhat typical bus-riding dream in which my dream-self mostly remains passive and observant. Such dreams have occurred since early childhood with mostly the same features, but often with a singularly odd (often impossible) event. There is never a point where I get off the bus in most versions of this dream situation (although I sometimes seem to automatically shift or teleport to a different bus, or a different driver comes in). In this version I am vaguely aware of my present family status and the bus seems fairly crowded.

      As usual, I have no idea where I am going, though also as usual, this issue is not mentally addressed (at least strongly) by my dream-self - I have a very nonchalant attitude considering I have no idea where I am or where the bus driver is headed. It seems the bus is just going around in a non-established route for the most part, though this does not seem problematic to any of the other passengers. It seems to be early afternoon and taking place mainly in a more commercial area of a larger city (such as either Brisbane in Australia or La Crosse, Madison, or Milwaukee in America, though I am not sure which - however, the bus driver is on the left from the passenger’s perspective so I should assume it is taking place in America, I suppose).

      At one point, the bus driver apparently sees potential passengers that he had missed picking up on the other side of an intersection after he has turned a corner. The bus soon somehow effortlessly moves sideways (as if all the wheels rotated ninety degrees) and it travels as such to the other side of the wide street and stops near a traffic light for the other people to get on. This does not strike me as overwhelmingly odd (or in fact impossible), only slightly unusual and unexpected, but my dream begins to fade around this point.
      Tags: bus, sideways
      Categories
      non-lucid
    9. Roof Situation

      by , 06-11-2015 at 12:11 PM
      Morning of June 11, 2015. Thursday.

      Dream #: 17,706-04. Reading time: 2 min 42 sec.



      I live in an unknown region in an unfamiliar (to my conscious self) house with my family (some fictitious). I have at least three additional daughters though I do not recall their names. (They do not resemble my real-life daughters.) One seems frustrated with her middle school mathematics homework at a kitchen table. I say that she may need my help. She looks at me annoyingly because it is evident that she needs my help. Another daughter in the twelfth grade will need less assistance.

      I am vaguely aware of my need to use the toilet. One of my fictitious daughters is in the bathroom, but she leaves (without complaint) before using it because of me. The bathroom is big (about half the area of our present house). There are pieces of vinyl not firmly or entirely covering the wooden floor as well as debris. Near another wall, perpendicular to the doorway I came in, is what resembles a glass door of a business building but with a doorknob rather than a handle. I go over to the door upon seeing it is open and then discover at least part of the wall is like a glass storefront, so there is no privacy. The immediate area outside looks like a shopping mall entrance. As I attempt to close the door, the doorknob and plate slide about as if loose. I fix it by moving it around until it locks into place and I close the door. I think I will tell my family about it.

      The toilet flushes itself (before I go) as if on a timer. It quickly overflows. Water, waste, and debris go under the door, into the hall, into a daughter’s room. I can see through the wall (mentally; unlike through glass). She is doing mathematics homework on her bed, probably wondering about the flooding. I am annoyed by the realization of the awful mess that I will need to clean up, but incredibly, the water, waste, and debris recede, returning to the toilet, leaving the floors dry and clean.

      Without using the bathroom, I go outside. The area is rural, and the front yard is very big. I get a strong sense of being in Kentucky (though I have never lived there). The house next door is vacant. On the other side of the dirt road, through a cluster of shrubbery and trees, I see horses pulling a carriage as well as several people walking. I wave at them, and they smile generously and wave back. Most of them are older wealthy blacks dressed in late 1800s attire. One man has white hair and is wearing an expensive-looking suit. They cross to our side of the road and are either moving into the other house or looking at it for possible purchase. There is at least one old Caucasian man with them who may be a servant or adviser as he asks me when the wood pit (a long deep ditch between properties with firewood and uncut logs) was last in use. I am unsure.

      Soon, there is a strong gust of refreshing wind, like the season suddenly changing from summer to winter. Big flakes that briefly seem like snow but then like small pieces of old newspaper, small sections of tar paper, and grainy debris, rain down upon us. Some people duck out of apprehension at the unexpected event (that does not cause any injuries). I feel thrilled and exhilarated by this event, with a sense of sudden well-being. When I look back, I see that it was the wind blowing a section of roof cover off my house so that now about a fourth of one side looks uncovered. I notice at least three layers that include newspaper, tar paper, and shingles. One of the men starts talking about my house (though his criticism does not seem rude), as if he is surprised I am living there, expressing how it is more like the kind of house and roof for an apprentice than for a someone such as me. My dream fades.


      Updated 06-06-2019 at 12:47 PM by 1390

      Categories
      memorable
    10. Radios in a New Place

      by , 06-10-2015 at 12:10 PM
      Morning of June 10, 2015. Wednesday.



      I am in a non-lucid state, though the setting is extremely well-rendered and most of it clearer even though it is mostly unfamiliar. My wife and family and I are living in a different type of building and had apparently moved here recently. The (fictional) residence has the typical “impossible” apartment-related situation that I have dreamt of all my life - where strangers are present in what would be almost the same living space. At one point, I am aware of an unknown older male on the other side of the main large room. Our living area is only divided from his by a curtain that hangs down to about four inches from the floor. I am fixing this curtain arrangement (for more privacy) while sitting on the floor, by pulling it fully down, as part of the bottom edge was draped over a cardboard box higher up (about a foot or so).

      At one point, I am using a screwdriver to scrape up old soap residue from a floor tile and as I do, the tile actually comes off, though I manage to align it back where it should be. The appearance and movement (and manual effort) is very realistic.

      I also find some toys that the last tenants left behind, some smaller toy cars in a bag, which I think I will put on my youngest son’s large (fictional) table for a pleasant surprise.

      In the last stage of my dream, which is very clear, there are several large radios (or boomboxes) set up along the wall for some reason, all side by side on a large table. After a short time, they all start playing at the same time, fairly loudly, and mostly different songs (at least four). I think one song is Fats Waller and another a country song, possibly George Strait. I am annoyed because the radios seem to have been connected to some sort of timing system by the previous tenants and I cannot work out what to do with the setup. I am also somewhat embarrassed (as I do not want to be seen as making so much noise on purpose, as we had just moved in recently relative to my dream’s back story), as the other tenant is home, though I do not go through the curtain to his side at any point.

      I try pushing the buttons and after a time, when I turn one radio off, another comes back on and this goes on for several minutes (so that it seems impossible to have all turned off at the same time) - and I am thinking that some sort of cable system (linked with a timer) is connected to all of them and they will play at certain times no matter what you do. It is somewhat amusing in conscious afterthought. The clarity of the power indicator lights is quite precise. This is similar to situations where I cannot turn all the lights off, which I have read in other people’s journals where they are experiencing the exact same details in the same way and with the same associations.

      Updated 09-30-2015 at 02:06 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    11. A Day’s Transition to Vampire Witch

      by , 06-09-2015 at 09:11 PM
      Morning of June 9, 2015. Tuesday.



      I have had more vampire-related dreams in the past month than I have had in my lifetime, which is hardly any as stated several times before. In this one, which is fairly vivid though not lucid, I am also a young female, which I suppose sounds unusual to the inexperienced. Then again, considering I dream fairly often of being a letter of the alphabet or a rune (as well as having been vehicles, including a bus - and even a building), the situation is moot.

      In this dream I mostly fly around showing my fangs to anyone who annoys me and sometimes creating lightning from my fingertips. My flying position is typically upright, though sometimes diagonal. There is a scene where I take the heads off of several males and roll them across an area in a parking lot near a storefront, like a bowling ball. I am not exactly sure what I look like, though after a time, my dream takes on a new theme.

      The only familiar characters at any point are my best friend from school days (Toby T) and my wife’s mother. There is a strange changeover in emotion. I “know” I am female, though there is a point where doubt begins to grow. I am at a movie theater (prior to seeing any known characters) where everyone else is nude, and I feel very embarrassed about wearing clothes (recurring in-dream situation), especially such a large fancy outfit, so much so, I begin to move away, closer to the theater wall so people will not know I am dressed. I contemplate removing everything I am wearing, but my dream shifts to a different setting and situation.

      Somehow, someone “knows” who I am, though the setup makes no sense. I am recognized as an actress by at least two people at some sort of public venue, though apparently actually a male, yet still a female in the movies. As I am standing, even though I get a vague impression I may be male (I feel a small movement which creates the impression of a small animal crawling under my clothes - and seems rather unfamiliar yet somehow “right” and some sort of “evidence” that I may be male), I decide I will be nude from then on to prove my status as a “real” female vampire witch. (This is completely different from the first scenes of my dream in my character focus and overall mood.) I “know” that I will excel in exposing these other people as just gossipers. (Besides, the mouse will probably escape and not be seen anyway - in-dream “logic” - imagine a male part being able to come and go like a small animal with a mind of its own.) My total certainty about this aspect of my dream is a very familiar but ambiguous presence of somehow knowing I am the dream-maker, yet not at all lucid.

      In another scene, which seems to be a different dream, I seem to be a male (though still associated with magic and vampirism). I am in some sort of friendly meeting with three unknown females with darker skin, in an undefined building (in a mostly featureless rectangular room and sitting on the floor). Although they seem to like and care about me in what seems an augmented empathic setting, I feel a bit strange (but do not express how I feel) in putting on a pair of pants that are over-sized, the crotch and back area almost bowl-like and almost going up to my chest when pulled fully up against my body. I will certainly need a belt, but at the time, I do not have one. It is difficult to imagine going out in public like this with any sense of dignity. One of the females leaves to go to a public venue. Once again, I feel embarrassed upon wearing clothes in-dream (a lifelong recurring theme, often associated with realizing my pants are an ugly or weird style, sometimes clown-like) even though the three females are dressed informally for the most part and do not appear out-of-place.
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    12. Hohner Accordion

      by , 06-08-2015 at 12:12 PM
      Morning of June 8, 2015. Monday.



      There is not much to this dream sequence. There are two sections that seem unrelated. There is a scene where I seem to be watching myself from about five feet away as I am seated in a small wooden chair and playing a black accordion (in an undefined location). I am probably about forty in this scene. I am not playing any music at the time. I am clearly focused for a short time on the name, which is Hohner, though the name appears vertically (rotated ninety degrees to the left, as on some real-life accordions when held in playing position). I have not seen a real accordion like this in years. (This is probably a semiconscious awareness of the word “honor”, which is pronounced differently than “hoe ner”, perhaps for no particular reason, though one definition is “the quality of knowing and doing what is morally right”. It is interesting how the mind creates seemingly related layers as such.)

      In the next scene, I am fully in-body. I am with my wife and family in Clayfield (where we have not lived in years) on Gellibrand Street. However, the orientation seems slightly altered. I get two envelopes in the mail that are about the size one would receive a small greeting card in and they are thin and slightly stiff as if containing one card each. They seem to be suspicious and illegal (from the black market, but mostly appearing like random junk mail) and seemingly from the Philippines, claiming that I had requested them - which makes me even more agitated. There are several phrases on the outside of the envelopes that apparently describe the nature of their business, but upon tentatively opening each, it turns out to be one piece of thicker stock each, one with some sort of calendar-like matrix (three by four) displaying variations of raisin muffins and possibly recipes below each image too small to read (of the type of card with a magnet to place on a refrigerator, like a politician’s propaganda during an upcoming election or junk mail calendar), the other being distorted and not clearly remembered but possibly something to do with pens with a campaign logo. I am debating whether or not to give the materials to postal inspectors (contemplating if people who get such junk mail are on a special “watch list”), but it seems like they are just some sort of odd random spam (with nothing making any sense at all or anything having any relationship to anything else) as seen often on the Internet, so I remain a bit undecided.
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    13. Transformations

      by , 06-07-2015 at 12:10 PM
      Morning of June 7, 2015. Sunday.



      In the first part of my dream, I am disembodied and watching a large group of tribal people on an island (possibly Polynesian) dragging an overturned very large (prehistoric) living trilobite onto the beach. Apparently they are somehow getting a lot of edible meat from it. There is a bit of ambiguity as if there is something related to archaeology in the back of my mind. It does not seem to matter that trilobites were probably never this large and are also extinct, as the scene is extraordinarily vivid and “realistic” otherwise.

      Later, there is a shift and more people (perhaps the same group) are capturing large turtles and somehow using the carapace as some sort of small boat that seems to be able to hold about three or four people. It seems fairly “realistic” but I doubt it would be feasible.

      I am with some unknown and unfamiliar females, not tribal and not directly associated with the other groups to my knowledge. We are in a boat which is somewhat canoe-like (not a kayak) though the others are sculling in an area near shore - which may be in the ocean or a very large lake, though I do not sense it is competitive rowing (or regarding a need to hurry), at least not clearly. There is an abandoned windmill on shore which seems important. Somehow, four oars are jury-rigged as new blades for this windmill, which seems to happen almost instantly even though I sense or see little movement. This is perhaps some sort of composite joining. Windmills represent the dreaming process itself or level of lucidity (as does successfully traveling in a small boat over a large body of water) or extent of the connection to semi-consciousness. In the past, one dream where windmills were stopped or unmoving (and another from years ago regarding entering a painting of a windmill, though I had a recent one where someone else was ready to enter a painting with a windmill) represented being fully in my dream, as the windmill turning would imply conscious awareness and a windmill beginning to move might be related to the liminal level of waking consciousness, but this is probably not always the case.

      I do not get out of the boat as there is something else I have to do before waking - to help with my physical existence and “uniformity” in my role of “pretending” to be human and to exist in the real world as such.

      I eventually shift to where I am aware that I am in bed with my wife, though she is asleep and I am in a state of artificial “wakefulness”, though not full sleep paralysis - only very light sleep paralysis, as there is not the typical blissful awareness or wonderful waves of energy and oscillation that move from head to toe and back in such states. I am aware that, due to recent back pain, I have to go through several stages and need to maintain each stage for a certain number of minutes prior to waking.

      First of all, I am a trilobite lying on my back in our bed, but I need to transform over time into other representations of whatever partially abstract line of thought or existence I am in. I do not move (or attempt to move) at any point. Still, I am well aware that I am becoming a lobster. Becoming a lobster is important and not uncomfortable, so I am a lobster for several minutes. I almost sense a level of transparency and a sort of “flatness”, yet still three-dimensional vertically (which is somewhat ambiguous in form). Of course, from here, the next “logical” step is to be in my scorpion form for awhile. Finally, my line of in-dream thought begins to become a bit too abstract and wavers slightly. Still, I know my next stage is to become a tarantula, though from that point, I am puzzled over how to “correctly” adapt physically and wake “correctly”. This is vaguely similar to where I transform into symbols (such as runes) or letters of the alphabet (though sometimes just random polygonal shapes) in the “correct” way while in the “correct” position.
    14. Clown Buttons and Immortal Piece of a Cat

      by , 06-06-2015 at 12:43 PM
      Morning of June 6, 2015. Saturday.



      Sometimes dreams are so surreal and unrelated to life and every facet of a person’s personality and thoughts and interests, it is a task to make any grounded reasonable associations. This is a good example. Nightmares are very rare for me and always seem linked to sleep apnea or my lifelong cardiac arrhythmia (which my father also had) though only problematic for a period in the 1980s, but this one comes close with the strange mood (though I still would not call it a true nightmare, as there was no residual negative emotion carried from it).

      My recent vampire witch dream had a typical carryover (though it was atypically divided by more than one day) - being embarrassed about wearing clothes in public.

      I am seated in a dark movie theater (while the unknown movie is showing) and realize that I am wearing clothes and thus become embarrassed since I “know” that you should not wear clothes in a movie theater, especially this particular one which is also a library. Even more frustrating, I seem to be wearing a clown outfit (with no back story on how this occurred) or at least a white shirt with dark pink pompom (or pompon) clown suit buttons that are about the size of a small fist.

      I stealthily leave the movie theater with one hand each on the top two buttons to hide them. I get the impression that someone is laughing at my clothed body. However, I manage to suddenly find myself (as if by teleportation) in a different scene in a library checkout area - which is also somehow the same theater’s lobby - where my shirt seems to be normal though I still seem to be holding pompoms in my closed fists. However, they are moving. I place them on the counter and they are each a small cuttlefish, which writhe around (as if disoriented) a bit and then decide to mate. This in turn is my payment for an overdue fee regarding books I did not even check out, but I do not question it. (I think cuttlefish are metaphorical for human hands as with spiders, because both instantly make me visually associate human hands - in fact, my “Things From Outer Space” childhood dream seemed to feature more of a giant cuttlefish-like creature than an alien spider - though actually recognized in-dream as a “giant” hand with theatrical enhancements - this being the first time I have clearly made that connection even though other creatures, such as the octopus-man, were also ocean-related).

      In another scene, I become aware of an annoying (stray?) cat, possibly a darker tortoiseshell. I am not sure who it belongs to. I eventually see that it is only a piece of a cat; the head and front part of the body (with two legs), yet almost flattened into a two-dimensional form (though still with perceivable volume). It cannot possibly be alive, but it somehow is. When I pick it up to check on its status, it makes strange meowing sounds and I consider that it may be just a residual muscle reflex and that the animal is not aware of anything. However, there is slight movement as it meows, but I decide it will probably not live very long so I put it in a cardboard box and into a commercial dumpster in an alley in a business district. I do not have the will or interest to “put it out of its misery”.

      After this, I have a very uneasy awareness that the cat will exist like this forever (long after I am gone) and I feel a bit guilty over its immortality as such, as it goes (without any of its own intent) to places unknown (perhaps trapped beneath layers of debris and not able to do anything or to be a “proper” cat and enjoy its cathood). It is a haunted feeling, although the creature cannot move much or walk (and thus cannot threaten me). It is almost like being aware of a human mind being “trapped” in a particular time period or culture (or religion) for endless years.
    15. Door or Not?

      by , 06-05-2015 at 07:30 PM
      Morning of June 5, 2015. Friday.



      My wife Zsuzsanna and I are watching at least three teenage girls from an unknown family, possibly (fictional) relatives. These girls seem to be curious explorers without caring much for other people knowing where they are at any point. The main part of my dream seems to be set later at night. For some reason, we are near an apparently abandoned building in an unfamiliar and unknown (unnamed) town or region. The building is somewhat reminiscent of a barn, but longer and could possibly be some sort of industrial warehouse, though the walls are not that high.

      There is concern about a possible criminal in the area, though this is not clearly focused upon. I go into the building, which is completely made of wood and mostly featureless, and seemingly with a dirt floor (though this is not certain). I spend the rest of the time trying to work out where the girls went, trying to learn if they may be in danger or not. I do not feel directly threatened at any point, but I do not see anyone, either.

      My dream becomes rather ambiguous concerning a wall on my right and a hall on my left, near the entrance into the building. I get the impression that at least two of them may be behind the wall, yet at the same time think they cannot be, because there is no door in that wall. At one point, I imagine a light shining underneath from the entire wall (though again without discerning any door).
      Tags: door
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      non-lucid
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