Morning of January 23, 2019. Wednesday. Dream #: 19,028-02, 19,028-03. Reading time: 2 min 54 sec. I am listening to my music with headphones. I listen to the same (fictitious) track twice in a row. It is about three minutes in length. I notice how soft the snare sounds (with no attack, that is, as soft as an organ). There is a lead synth that almost forms words and phrases, the last phrase sounding like “dance with me,” the overall effect seemingly caused by modulation. (Otherwise, it is like a reed organ with a precisely controlled wah effect.) The setting seems to be the Cubitis house (unseen since 1978), though I do recall that I am married and have children. I start to wonder where my second-youngest son is. I know that Zsuzsanna and our two youngest children went to the library. I walk around calling his name, but there is no response. Finally, I hear my oldest son (from behind his door) say that he is in his (my oldest son’s) room. He had been playing a computer game. Although my oldest son looks somewhat like himself (though nothing is rendered correctly in dreams to prevent false associations with waking life other than with interconsciousness threads), my second-youngest son has a “face” like coin-operated binoculars. It takes a few seconds to realize this oddity. “Oh, I am dreaming,” I explain to them. I describe how I know I am dreaming because of his face, mostly noting how his eyes could not be as such in real life. From here, I walk back into the lounge room, which is now more like our present home. There is a vague sense of wariness even though I am aware I am dreaming due to an unusual sound to the north. I consider it might be an airplane that might crash near or onto our house (which would be autosymbolism of the waking process concerning vestibular dynamics similar to a typical falling start). That is not the case. I watch various lights and shadowy forms move past the windows (which are factors of liminal space division between dream self and conscious self). I soon wake briefly, but again enter sleep. I again start to look for my second-youngest son. I try to open a door, but he pushes it back, and I realize I am dreaming. The house is a distortion of the Cubitis house but changes to our present home in a short time. I go out to our front yard. (There is no fence as in waking life.) It is nighttime even though I am aware it is daylight in reality. There are still strange sounds coming from the north. Three unfamiliar people walk toward me, continuing south. I consider that I should talk to them because they may hold threads of the interconsciousness and have something informative to say. Their appearances are unrealistic. Their faces do not look like possible human faces but are also not threatening or eerie. I focus on talking to one unfamiliar man. The sounds to the north are coming from a (fictitious) train station. He does not make much sense. He says something about espionage regarding the trains. They continue on their way. I walk east down our street, but the houses are not as in waking life. I summon Zsuzsanna for a love-making session. I use the porch factor to enhance my dream. When I turn about to continue east, I come to a fictitious open area where there are elevated train tracks above a mostly featureless field. There is a false memory regarding something about the man I talked to mentioning that the “king of light” was near here. My dream is extraordinarily vivid at this point. A young Sam Neill walks by, with his usual questionable smile, and I suspect he is the preconscious simulacrum showing up to wake me. Several additional men walking from the north, though all unfamiliar, also enter the open area. Sam Neill and the other men are all seemingly railroad workers. I ask them some questions about where I am and if there is something I need to know. They do not say anything of interest. As suspected, they all walk toward me to shake me into vestibular system correlation (or to coalesce) to reinitiate my consciousness. Instead, I wave my hand, and all the men go flying back through the air before getting close enough. After effortlessly doing this several times, I decide to wake on my own.
Morning of January 20, 2019. Sunday. Dream #: 19,025-03. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. My conscious self identity is absent. I am unsure of my implied age, but I am back in Cubitis where I have not lived since 1978. I remain in my bedroom. It seems to be late morning. A gray military jet flies over the house from north to south. Its flight path is so low that I can see the details of its underside. However, my viewing of it would not have been possible in reality, as I would not have been able to see its path above the roof of the carport let alone through the north windows of my room from a distance. (Only orange trees and not much sky would have been visible.) There is likely the common but indirect x-ray vision perception in dream space. For a short time, there is also the vague awareness of windows to the south (a fictitious feature). This event happens a second time. I have no recall of my parents or their passing or my current life. Later, I look out the west windows. There are several random vehicles parked north of the house, moved from their original locations, possibly because of roadwork and perhaps the construction of commercial buildings. (The area is more like part of a city rather than being rural as it was in real life.) The work seems to be occurring quickly, because when I look out the window again, our front yard has a line of vehicles oriented from northwest to southeast, ending close to where the windows of the southwest bedroom would have been. It is ridiculously intrusive, but I do not feel stress. The first vehicle (closest to Highway Seventeen) is a white semi-trailer truck with its trailer, facing away from the house. A blue USA mail van is one of the vehicles closest to the house (though the closest one remains unseen), facing towards it. There are several other vehicles, mostly commercial, though there is a dune buggy near the mail van as well as a cement mixing truck. I notice that the front yard is completely paved over (as with a parking lot) rather than being a lawn. Although this seems curious and unfamiliar, I do not question anything. I anticipate that the trucks will probably soon no longer be present. In a short time, the work will continue south, and the front yard will likely be lawn again as well. Vestibular system correlation is not inherited here but projected, as my infra-self remains passive. The jet flies over my bedroom twice, but the process does not match my illusory state of awareness, resulting in the manifestation of enigmatic space rendering as a parking lot, displaying how my physical body does not move as I sleep. The mail van is possibly a factor of the interconsciousness, yet may also only (or additionally) represent communication between my dream self and conscious self identity as showing me my body is “parked” in bed. (I am in bed in my dream looking out my windows.)
Morning of January 20, 2019. Sunday. Dream #: 19,025-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. I find myself with a magazine. I am looking at a two-page spread that features Marvel trading cards in what may be a 5 x 5 layout on each page. (The size orientation varies. At one point, the imagery seems miniature.) Zsuzsanna is with me. The location is unfamiliar but implied to be our present home. After looking at the pages, I briefly watch a scene from a movie on television. Tigra appears. There is a distortion, and now there is a female character who seems to be implied to be in a costume with snow leopard attributes. While again looking at the pages, I feel their surface, suspecting that a real card may be over the image of one and “hidden,” blending in with the layout. I discover that there is a card taped over an image. (They do not match.) It is in the middle of the top row on the left-hand page. It is taped only at the top, facing down. I carefully peel the top of the trading card from the adhesive tape. I do not want to tear the surface. Before I see its number, Zsuzsanna informs me that card number 17 is the only one we are missing. The new card turns out to be number 17. My dream self (in subliminal space, in so-called non-lucid mode) exhibits control by creating something “real” out of an image based on expectation. That happens often. People who promote that lucidity is a requirement for dream control have no credibility.
Morning of January 19, 2019. Saturday. Dream #: 19,024-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Many years of viable memory dissolve in my conscious self’s annihilation in the dream state as access to my unconscious mind is blocked by the preconscious to allow for rejuvenation in sleep. However, in eventually entering REM sleep, I do recall Zsuzsanna and her essence, though my dream implies we had not yet met (even though we have been married for over 20 years in reality). There is a backstory that we are to meet and possibly marry in North Korea. For a time, I am confused. Maybe it is meant to be South Korea. However, the main focus is on North Korea, and the map seems to imply an area near Singye County. Throughout my dream, I remain hesitant about going to North Korea. There are thoughts based on distortions of content from the American drama series “Colony” that we watched last night (though my dream self does not perceive the legitimate source), the second two episodes of the first season (“A Brave New World,” and “98 Seconds”). In my dream, I live in America, although there is no further definition of what region. I do not recall or consider the existence of Australia or that I have lived here for over 20 years, and I do not perceive Zsuzsanna as a lifetime resident of Australia. It seems that many tourists visit North Korea without problems, but there are rules. I read brochures about how tourists are expected to act. Eventually, I enter the [inherited non-linear vestibular system correlation] process of this dream. I board an airplane (a supposed jet airliner), though the layout is more like a bus, where the pilot, an unfamiliar man of about 30, sits in front of me. There are vivid and pleasant sensations of movement as the airplane taxis down the runway and rises into the afternoon sky. The pilot seems cheerful and confident. To my right, across the aisle and also at the front are two unfamiliar women in their thirties who start talking about misadventures with cockroaches. The pilot patiently asks them to stop talking, saying that it is breaking his concentration, though there is no feeling of imminent danger. I slowly and softly wake from this point. There is a stage where I hear his voice and feel the imaginary movements of the airplane, but there is no imagery. The pilot is the vestibular system simulacrum. The unknown females are factors of the interconsciousness. While the raw preconscious (and sometimes the interconsciousness) often dominates or “intrudes,” it does not typically do so in this type of process because I am closer to the subliminal anticipation of consciousness reinitiation and willing to re-establish the legitimate physicality of waking life. In some instances, the vestibular system avatar works against the dreamer, including when interconsciousness threads are present, while in other cases it works against interconsciousness threads as it does here. The determining cause seems to be ultradian rhythm as well as the incidental level of passivity in contrast to any willful intent of unhealthily sustaining sleep.
Morning of January 17, 2019. Thursday. Dream #: 19,022-02. Reading time: 1 min 50 sec. An unclear backstory forms as I become vaguely aware of my imaginary dream state existence. Zsuzsanna is with me. We go into the house that was south of my Cubitis home. Unfamiliar people are presently moving into that house. Lisa had moved out recently, but there is no legitimate focus on her or our past. Zsuzsanna and I walk around inside the house. Walking through all the rooms (even though this is an imposition, as the others are moving in), we eventually come to a doorway that leads to the outdoor staircase that comes out from the north side of the northeast corner of the house. I dwell on focusing on the backyard of my Cubitis home. It seems to be the afternoon. I am cheerful and consider that I have not ever looked at my home from this specific viewpoint, at least in a very long time, that is, from the top of the stairs of the neighbors’ house. I continue to feel a sense of well-being and soon wake. Valid threads: This dream’s only correct thread is that my infra-self maintains a realization of my marriage to Zsuzsanna. Invalid or missing threads: I have no threads of recall of where Zsuzsanna and I ever lived since my time in Australia and no discernment of the fact that she has never been to America. Lisa’s house in my dream was nothing like it was in waking life and she and her parents moved in 1975, three years before I moved to Wisconsin. It was only one story and had no staircase (though a staircase represents the opportunity to vivify the dream or return to sleep or to initiate conscious awareness of the dream state). I also have no recall that she had a younger sister (though this recall is almost always missing). Dreaming and waking processes: [inherited transitional vestibular system correlation] Curiously, I act as if I am functionally aware I am dreaming by maintaining the staircase factor and even focusing on the nuances, yet I am not lucid. (I call this “faux lucidity.”) I do not descend the stairs, and as a result, my dream does not vivify or continue with consciousness integration. The King Street mansion is typically used for this (often deliberately when I am already semi-aware), though in rare cases, Rose Street is. (I have not lived there since I was six years of age. It is when I first used staircase reinduction). Today, on Twitter, another poster had a dream with identical processes (and intent) with a slightly different outcome: (LINK). Experiencing the same autosymbolic dream state processes as other posters (especially on Twitter) happens continuously, but I do not usually point it out, especially when it is such a common factor as in this case.
Updated 01-18-2019 at 04:02 AM by 1390
Morning of January 13, 2019. Sunday. Dream #: 19,018-02. Reading time: 1 min 35 sec. I am uncertain of the backstory, but I go up in a manned satellite with three unfamiliar men who are all close to twenty years of age. One man is more to my left, one to my right, and one in front of me. All face away from me. We are in orbit around Earth. I have concerns at times, as there does not seem to be a roof above us. The men on the left and right have small shields in front of them, though they do not fully cover the area. The man in front of me sits before a window that also does not encompass the satellite’s walls. I consider that there may be a force field around our craft so that we are not exposed to outer space, though this remains unknown. I also think that the satellite is incomplete but will be complete soon. I notice an irregular hole on the left side of the window. Its shape is like the letter “Z,” though backward and tilted to the left. It is about a foot and a half in height. I can discern the edges of the glass, which seems at least an inch thick. I do not feel much concern about it or make any mention of what would logically be a problem. (A force field, if present, would cover the hole.) My conscious self identity is not extant, and there is no emotion. I wonder if I should give instructions to any of the men, but I do not say anything. Eventually, I notice that we are only a short distance above a forest. I think it is unusual and wonder how we are floating as such and what is going on, though I do not say anything. Outer space dreams are not very common, though this one is a form of [inherited transitional vestibular system correlation]. This imaginary scene is strange on one level because of the three simulacra. I am assuming they correlate with the three sleeping positions I enter, back and left and right sides, though I sleep mostly on my left. Typically there is only one vestibular system simulacrum to represent the return to correlation with legitimate physicality (in contrast to the fictitious body of the dream state), but this heat makes me restless at times. Being closer to Earth is being closer to returning to waking life.
Morning of January 14, 2019. Monday. Dream #: 19,019-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Zsuzsanna and I are on the back porch of our present home on W Street seemingly before dawn though there is enough light to discern images. My perception is extraordinarily vivid though I am not aware I am dreaming. She is to my left (our sleeping orientation). We are sitting and facing south toward our backyard. There is a big table (that does not exist in reality) that fills most of the space of our porch to the right of the back door (when facing the back of our house). I notice two features, both of which are yellow and black and about two feet apart, their heads facing toward the backyard. The closest to me looks like a soft toy. It is an elongated bee. The other one has a similar appearance but changes over time. I ask Zsuzsanna if it is an animal. “That’s just fuzz,” she says. Making an effort to discern the farthest feature more clearly, I see it is a big yellow and black caterpillar as long as my forearm and with long hairs. I gaze at it in wonder and soon realize I am dreaming, but I eventually wake without attempting to take control. One of the only statements I have ever read in any public source that held any truth regarding dreams is: “Similarly, he (Herbert Silberer) has shown that the conclusions of some dreams or some divisions in their content merely signify the dreamer’s own perception of his sleeping and waking.” (This is one of the only factors of dreams with established validity.) It goes on to say, “in persons who are gifted philosophically and accustomed to introspection it may become very evident.” (It was evident to me when I was very young, yet many people never realize it and consequently, pursue “interpretation.”) This dream renders the same processes in the same order as tens of thousands of previous examples since early childhood (and it is very similar in content to many others) but holds the interconsciousness thread that features Zsuzsanna, an additional emerging consciousness precursor. “That’s just fuzz” means I am not yet fully discerning enigmatic space (and aware I am dreaming). Porches are “bridges” in enigmatic space and represent liminal space in waking life as being a “bridge” between one’s house and the outside. The final emerging consciousness factor is the big yellow caterpillar. It correlates with vestibular system dynamics. Yellow is only discernible in a dream in becoming more aware of my dream self and simultaneously closer to my conscious self identity. A caterpillar is a precursor to flight as a butterfly. The bee is a soft toy here (a pillow association and thus a dream state indicator). Bees typically represent the increased neural activity of the waking process. The soft toy and the caterpillar are dual autosymbolism. (Dreams are not symbolic in the conventional sense.) They are on my left because they are precursors rather than active anticipation of the process. (I most often sleep on my left side.)
Morning of January 14, 2019. Monday. Dream #: 19,019-02. Reading time: 3 min 40 sec. Most threads of the awareness of my identity remain in entering sleep, though my perception of what house I am in changes. I look at a knotty pine wall. It would be the north wall of the Cubitis living room (in Florida, not seen in real life since 1978), though I erroneously consider it as the north wall of the northeast bedroom of the Loomis Street house (in Wisconsin, unseen in real life since 1994), which it becomes later. Instead of correctly seeing this segment as a dream, I see it as an opportunity to enter the dream state consciously. I focus on separating the imaginary wall from the “real” version (which is also imaginary). There is double vision for a short time. A pack of cigarettes is somehow stuck sideways on the wall, from its back. I pull one out to the left from it with my hands that I can feel but not see, considering my invisible hands as my link to the dream state. It is working well as I hold my discernment. (I do not smoke in real life.) I can vividly feel the texture of the surfaces with my invisible hands. Later, I am in my fictitious body in the northeast bedroom of the Loomis Street house. A sheet is in a lump on the bed, but I summon Zsuzsanna from beneath it. We indulge in lovemaking twice. After the second session, I absentmindedly decide she will become a vampire, but the transformation only lasts for about two seconds before the essence of the scenario returns to normal. The preconscious manifests as an unknown male and seems to want me to leave the dream state. He sings a sarcastic song that includes obscenities and talks about what my encounter might symbolize. “Dreams don’t have symbols as meaning anything in waking life, you stupid STUPID f—!” I say as loudly as I can. I continue to affirm my knowledge that dreams stem from dreaming processes and my perception of being asleep and are concurrent events that result from being in the dream state. “This is not my real body,” I say, “I am not conscious, I am asleep, and this is not my house. It is a dream, so SHUT UP and stop comparing it with real life, you idiot!” The preconscious simulacrum sits on the window sill and looks sad and defeated (atypically passive behavior for reticular activating system personification), and my dream becomes astoundingly vivid as a result. I go to the porch to enhance my awareness even more. Using the porch to solidify the “bridge” of enigmatic space as I have done many times in past dreams, my dream becomes so vivid that I marvel at the detail and three-dimensionality. I decide to make fun of people who talk about “reality checks,” making my right hand claw-like and smashing my fingers against the front wall of the porch to the right of its door. It is as solid as a rock at this level of dream state awareness. “Reality checks are re-tar-da-tion,” I tap with each syllable, feeling very amused and satisfied. As I stand on the north side of the porch, I watch my brother-in-law Bob walk out from inside his house, probably going out to his car. Marilyn (deceased in real life) also eventually walks out after him. I recall that she had died in real life. I talk to her briefly. I look out at the street and suburban neighborhood. It seems to be late morning. “Oh, it’s all so beautiful,” I scream as loudly as I can. “You’re beautiful,” I scream at the sky. “You’re beautiful,” I scream at the bumpy, shiny surface of the street. “It’s beautiful,” I yell at least ten times. I continue to marvel at the detail. The more I scream, and the more emotion I use, the more vivid my dream becomes and the more it stabilizes. I look around in astonishment. There is an incredible sense of peace, security, and well-being. I eventually choose to step outside from the porch door (a technique I have used since childhood), and my dream vivifies again. I cross the street and indulge in lovemaking with Zsuzsanna (from behind) for the third time as she leans forward against a wooden fence (not a real-life feature but a thread that divides enigmatic space). Other people are standing around. Natural melatonin mediation becomes an emerging thread. As a result, I notice a shallow pond on my left in someone’s front yard. Vestibular system correlation begins to initialize, creating a line of cars approaching from my right, curiously on the big front lawns of the neighboring houses rather than the street. In an absentminded reinduction thread, the first car, about two-thirds the size of a real one, flies through the air and crashes into the pond. I find it very amusing and anticipate the next one. Bob and Marilyn and a few other people look on. The second car flies through the air and crashes into the pond. The second car rises vertically from the pond and walks toward me, its underside facing me. “C'mon, you need to wake up now, your body’s gotta p-ss,” it says in a hoarse electronic voice. It grows stubby metal arms in an attempt to beat me up. I swing my right fist around at it and effortlessly knock it back into the pond. Even so, I move my right leg over the bottom horizontal bar of the wooden fence to wake myself instantly.
Optimized 2 minute read. Friday night, 11 January 2019. Death of a Starfish (hand mobility) Dream # 19,016-02. I am attending an evening dinner party in a dimly lit room, sitting at a large rectangular table with unfamiliar people in an unknown location. To my right, there is a glass of cola on the table. My right hand transforms into a starfish. It wiggles and detaches from my arm, spurting cola from several pores. It tips the glass over and dies. I experienced this dream with my usual post-hypnagogic lucidness without attempting to influence the narrative. Lucidness delivers the awareness of what is creating my dreaming experience. Dreams in this part of my sleep cycle (secondary post-hypnagogic) present the theme of loss of hand or arm mobility (whereas the first correlates with loss of leg mobility) because of REM atonia (the natural paralysis while sleeping that occurs throughout all dreams in healthy people). The pre-hypnopompic inversion (in the second half of my sleep cycle) presents the theme of gaining hand or arm mobility in preparation for wakefulness. Hand metamorphosis presents far less often than the event of someone else dropping something in this sleep cycle time slot and mode of dreaming.
Updated 07-02-2022 at 03:19 AM by 1390
Morning of January 6, 2019. Sunday. Dream #: 19,011-02. Reading time: 40 sec. I am in our bed in darkness at our present address, and it seems to be in the same orientation and location (but the space around me feels different). Under my right hand, I vividly feel a dozen mice squirming around. (I had fallen asleep on my back, which does not occur very often.) I try to keep them in the area near my right hip, as there is concern about one of our cats getting to them. (I sense a cat on the left side of our bed.) My sense of touch is enhanced. The surface area is also enlarged, making both the palm of my hand and the mice seem at least four times bigger. There is brief “conversation” with Zsuzsanna and our youngest son (both on my left, our son near the foot of our bed), though I perceive the phrases by thought rather than hear the sound. I typically only have dreams with no imagery but with enhanced touch when sleeping on my back.
Morning of January 3, 2019. Thursday. Dream #: 19,008-02. Reading time (optimized) 3 min. My dream self maintains a thread of my conscious self identity in that I remember Zsuzsanna, though no other current factor (such as an awareness I live in Australia) is extant. We are in the King Street mansion (though Zsuzsanna has never been to America). I introduce her to Leonard. They briefly hug. Leonard seems cheerful and glad to see me The staircase does not appear, so my dream does not vivify as a result. Vestibular system correlation still occurs, as I end up happily flying without effort with Zsuzsanna to a fictitious arcade northeast of the King Street house. [inherited non-linear vestibular system correlation] In the arcade, which does not have much lighting, the setting eventually vivifies, though Zsuzsanna is no longer present. (Zsuzsanna often serves as an induction simulacrum in one dream and an emerging consciousness simulacrum in another.) I stand in a big electronic game that seemingly combines several other games. It is called “Zombie Wars.” It is like a very sparse and oversized pinball playing field. Facing away to my left and perpendicular to the table I am at, though attached to it, is a pinball machine of regular size. I can control its flippers from where I am even though I cannot see most of its playing field. The game relates to the player being on a quest, but the backstory is unclear. There is an icon displaying a hypodermic needle that holds green fluid. (I vaguely sense that it would result in going deeper into sleep to correctly play the game, but I do not activate it.) There are also sections to my right. I mostly play around with the controls without any goal in mind. The area is about four times the size of a drafting table, not including the attached pinball machine. A small device on the upper right has a vertical metal rod that I can guide over an area that represents a map. There is a similar small machine to its right. I continue to play around with the controls. The rod moves around randomly, making a maze-like pattern. What I mostly enjoy doing for several minutes is making the whole table roll about and shake. [inherited linear vestibular system correlation] The feeling of movement is vivid and pleasing, like being on a ride that is rolling about in all directions. The entire oversized game moves up to two feet in each direction, though it is all random. (No viable gameplay is occurring.) There is presently one other person in the arcade, an unknown male off to my left on the other side of the big room. He is playing a pinball game. The unknown male owner walks in from behind me, off to my left. I suspect that he is coming to tell us that the arcade is closing, though this turns out to not be the case, as more people come in. (This is a subliminal attempt at left-side-oriented dream state reinduction based on my usual subception of being in the dream state, but which instead triggers RAS.) The preconscious, as an unfamiliar young blond man of about seventeen, is activated and becomes his typical intrusive self to initiate the waking process. I am still playing around with the controls of the big game. The pinball game that was attached to the left is now more like a video game. It involves small short rockets going down into moon craters as well as shooting lasers at small slowly moving hovering rocks. I score points despite the preconscious chanting gibberish at me in a seemingly sarcastic tone. (Logically, I would not be able to see the screen, as it is facing away from me, but I have two simultaneous viewpoints at this time.) In my annoyance, I decide to leave, and as a result, there is a subliminal thread of [literal bed space emergence] as I get my hooded sweater. I notice several pairs of my blue jeans strewn about in the room, a subliminal awareness that I do not wear clothes as I sleep. When I go to pick up a pair of my jeans to put on, thinking I will probably leave my other clothes in the arcade, and contemplate flying back to King Street, the waking process initiates as a result. Two distinct forms of (inherited) vestibular system correlation being in the same dream is not very common because of the consciousness initiation factor, but this was a long dream with a few different levels of illusory awareness.
Updated 01-03-2019 at 12:14 PM by 1390
Morning of January 2, 2019. Wednesday. Dream #: 19,007-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. My dream self is involved in fictitious associations with Cubitis (where I have not lived since 1978). Dennis (a half-brother on my mother’s side whom I have not seen in real life since 1994) is present. Several random people are present. It may be a vague association with New Year’s Eve. My dream’s location eventually changes to being that of the backyard of the Loomis Street house. I am behind what seems to be a fence, looking west, in the southwest area of the yard. I am also vaguely aware that the “fence” is the foot of a bed that I am “sleeping” in, though I am sitting on my knees and leaning against it. It is metal and oversized, with vertical bars. Dennis walks on the other side, at least six feet away, walking to the left in my view. (This orientation is atypical, as waking orientation is most often to the right, though I am probably mediating his direction to prevent his presence from being an emergence factor.) A fence is a factor of reticular activating system mediation that concurrently defines the distinction between the imaginary dream self and the emerging conscious self identity. Here, it additionally correlates with the subliminal perception that I am sleeping and directly represents my dream self peering into the enigmatic space of preconscious activity. In addition to [fence as RAS mediation], there is a factor of one of the “crucial three” [literal bed space emergence]. There is also the [preconscious simulacrum mode two] as Dennis.
Morning of December 31, 2018. Monday. Dream #: 19,005-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. There are threads of my conscious self identity present in my otherwise subliminal state, but only those which include a partial recall of my usage of the Internet for my online dream journal. [dream-related theme in a dream] The location is undefined and unknown (to my conscious self), though implied to be where I am currently living. The website that includes my dream journal is unlike any in waking life. There are three main panels, two vertical ones at the top and a horizontal one across the bottom. Its color scheme is mostly cyan and blue. I discover at least three comments on my dream journal entries of which are about a year old. Dream journal entries appear in the right panel and comments are in the left. The bottom panel is for website navigation. Each comment is about three short paragraphs in length and from an unknown person. Each comment is asinine and stemming from the usual misconceptions about dreams that plague people and this society as a whole. [reading to increase dream state awareness] One comment relates to natural melatonin mediation (as water induction and reinduction), which is also a factor of ultradian rhythm dynamics. However, the gist of the comment is asinine and ill-conceived. The other comments are relevant to so-called lucid dreaming but are erroneous in their assumptions. I will probably not reply to the comments. I am considering deletion without reading it all as all three commentators sound oblivious to the content of my journal. (The monothematic delusion and motivated reasoning of people who pretend to understand the “meaning” of dreams have been of zero interest to me since childhood because of my lifelong knowledge of the legitimate causes of induction, dreaming, and waking processes.) In my focus on the fictitious website, my dream changes into the recurring “paper technology” mode. The site now consists of sheets of A4 paper. I turn them as loose pages, being slightly puzzled as to what order they will preserve. The recurring distortion of “paper technology” has begun to interest me more over the years even though it is solely a factor of the dream state (as much dream content is). There are probable explanations for this anomaly, though there is also a certain level of ambiguity depending on my dream self mode and how much of my conscious self identity is extant. Electricity and technology are autosymbolism for the mind in the subception of REM sleep, analogous to neuronal energy and thinking processes (which are otherwise absent in the subliminal dream self mode). I developed reading in dreams in childhood to deliberately maintain focus on the dream state (which I learned from my mother and her acknowledgment of how text in dreams often changes or transforms into random letters). As with other induction, dreaming, and waking processes, it is not always preconsciously or interconsciously personified (other than in the last dream of a sleep cycle). “Paper technology” is probably only a factor of absence of wakefulness as with many dream state factors.
Morning of December 30, 2018. Sunday. Dream #: 19,004-02. Reading time: 46 sec. In the subliminal mode, I find myself on a bus in an unknown city. (It may be either La Crosse in America or Brisbane in Australia as I do not focus on where the driver’s side is.) It seems to be early afternoon. The bus eventually ends up going in the opposite direction with no concern on my part, as it may be a factor of the route it is taking. I continue to focus on how I am going to post a dream about my bus trip to the location where I am going to post it. In the back of my mind, I think about the main factor being “linear vestibular system correlation.” I wake before the bus stops anywhere. This dream is not unusual for me. There have been many times throughout my life since childhood when I was aware of the dreaming processes and their autosymbolic meaning, as well as maintaining willful but subliminal dream control, without being aware I am dreaming. This fact seems to make me different from the majority of people who seem to have no understanding that dreams are autosymbolically concurrent with the dreaming processes themselves.
Morning of December 29, 2018. Saturday. Dream #: 19,003-02. Reading time: 2 min 20 sec. I enter an atypical dream scenario in a subliminal mode, but with more of a cohesive storyline than usual. It is a science-fiction theme. It is primarily a result of parallel autosymbolism. It consolidates two autosymbolic dynamics of the emerging consciousness, electricity and flying insects, both indicative of consciousness reinitiation and the neuronal energy thereof as well as blue field entoptic phenomenon by way of (the memory of) supraliminal integration. There are scenes relating to the development of robotic flying insects. I do not perceive them as a threat. I watch them fly in the blue sky. They move in spirals and circular patterns, attempting to create a portal. Others have conversations about the development of these tiny machines, with the main factor relating to generating enough energy to create a portal to enter another world. The scientists involved seem to think that it will never happen. Enough of an emerging consciousness thread becomes present to vivify my awareness and place me in a warehouse as a result (a kind of concurrent “waiting room” for the conscious self in REM sleep), which is typically the last setting when it occurs in a long dream, though in this case, an offset dream results, distorting the original theme somewhat. While in the warehouse, my imaginary physicality is also more pronounced along with my attention. My subception correlates with the factor of transitional vestibular system correlation (one of the “crucial three” that occurs at least once in a dream of each sleep cycle). In this case, it seemingly stems from “Superman” from 1978; the scene where Superman flies upwards and crashes through the ceiling, though my dream self has no viable memory of such an association while in the dream state. I am still in subliminal mode, yet I begin to consider ceiling (upward directed) RAS mediation (as a result of sleeping more on my back than on my left side in this case). (Dream control and inherent awareness of autosymbolic processes are unrelated to lucidity or “becoming lucid,” contrary to popular misconception and misinformation.) As a result, my dream responds by creating a mason jar full of the robotic insects. Although an unknown companion is holding it, I subliminally create the next scene. (The transitional vestibular system simulacrum remains passive in this event.) The jar rises into the air. It crashes into the ceiling and somehow creates a hole that the robotic insects fly up through, and into the sky. Glass shards fall downward, but they do not pose a threat. At this point, my dream jumps into a different form. The tiny robots are now able to create a portal into another world (which is merely my dream self becoming more aware of my real environment in this case). From here, I passively watch a few events. I am now on another planet with “aliens” that seem like ordinary human beings. The “insects” are now (or now controlling) robots that are about half the size of a person and somewhat like a two-tiered pair of cubes incapable of flight. One is watching an unfamiliar man that seems like a Nazi from World War II, and it seems puzzled. These “aliens” plan on using the robots sent to them to conquer other worlds. I try to make the “alien” sound “alien,” but it sounds like an ordinary language from Earth, though the words sound like gibberish to me, as language skills in dreams are not viable enough to create something of this nature. I wake at this point.
Updated 08-27-2019 at 10:16 AM by 1390
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