Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 3, 2014. Sunday.



This dream was the same morning as “The Right Student” (posted only on a couple sites) and was quite long and vivid (more vivid than the other dream). It also has a couple of the “same” scenes and overall theme as from my wife’s dream of the same period of time.

At the beginning, I am aware of an approaching time of tsunamis and floods that will basically destroy much of the world. This is different than other flood dreams, in that the “tidal waves” are unnaturally large (even as high as the atmosphere itself) and widespread, going up and over entire regions. I am not sure of my dream’s location. It may be Brazil.

There is a point near the beginning where my wife and I seem to have about twenty children (as well as our own real ones being in-dream) or more (all around the same age of about four to ten) - yet they also seem to just appear out of nowhere somewhat like in-dream tulpas, or possibly orphans from previous flooding elsewhere. Still, they all refer to me as their father over time as if this is the “reality” as such. I carry a few here and there. This is before the larger waves approach. It seems to be in a large park just outside the big (unknown) city.

Later on, I and a few others plan to save a small group of people, to be the only ones left alive on the planet. This seems fairly effortless even when my mental focus is less “precise” (this is not a lucid dream - I take it all as “reality” at the time). When the tsunamis come, they are extremely high and destroy many buildings. However, I have some sort of detailed and “automatic” (survival-oriented) telekinetic nature and am able to cause the water to flow around aspects of the sky and land - there are several points at which the tsunami moves around from what seems to be a huge “invisible dome” created by my telekinetic will, though it is a force and not of any material.

At various points, we are in buildings that are eventually destroyed. One scene involves an elevator shaft (much the same scenario as my wife’s dream) and another, going out a window of a second or third floor where the water is up to. It is interesting how no one in my localized group is injured or easily washed away as others are.

In one scene, two cars are going down a road towards where my group and I are. A huge wave slams into one car, carrying it from the road and into the trees while the other car, only a short distance in front of the other, is saved by the forces that block the water under my will. People are glad to be safe in what is technically “the end of the world” - as the waves are worldwide and covering most of the planet. This implies that we will have to live on a makeshift raft-like structure at some future point, I think, although I am able to mentally rebuild a building here and there - even in a scene where water has destroyed a part of a building and where the water is “frozen” in position (though still moving and “cycling” in that isolated position) and bricks float about within the “held spray” before realigning. I save a few people from drowning by mentally lifting them from the water as well as creating an invisible “wall” in some scenes.

Again, I am not lucid, yet find it interesting that my telekinetic ability is so “automatic” and effortless throughout (and I am not worried that I will perish), although I sense that others are adding to this overall force at times with their own focus and survival instinct. There is also the nature of the water itself, which often seems more reflective than water in real life as well as having its own light-making properties. In some dreams, water and light seem to be some sort of hybrid composite that is not possible in reality.

Morning of July 31, 2014. Thursday.



In my dream, I am searching the Google newspaper archive as I had in reality recently and am looking for my birth notice, although at one level, I seem somewhat disembodied (as is fairly common in similar dreams of more of a focus on two-dimensional elements). I look in the Sarasota Herald-Tribune issue from December 20, 1960 (even knowing that it is likely in a newspaper of a day or more later). When I find where it supposedly should be, I see only a black space instead around the upper middle of the page. Oddly, this is supposedly because my mother had cut it out from the newspaper at that time and kept it at the older address in Florida, though I apparently no longer still have it. Logically, this would also indicate that Google staff had scanned the same newspaper that my mother had in 1960, but I do not question any of this extreme unlikelihood in my dream. At one point, there is an athlete portrayed in various stages on a few different pages as trying to jump over all the amorphous features and “random blobs” of each page.

For the most part, though, I am contemplating the irony of the in-dream concept of actually having the newspaper in the past, the clipping being lost, and the scanned newspaper then being online with the missing notice. Worthy of a few giggles in conscious afterthought, I think.

In reality, this scenario is far more problematic. The particular newspaper from the December 20th archive link actually has randomly mixed pages from at least the 19th to the 21st and most of the pages had been scanned in sideways (as well as most of the newspapers in general having scrambled or missing writing and such or big white spidery “splatters” in the middle of a paragraph rendering much content unreadable). Thus, in some ways, my dream made far more sense than how people actually are in their general absentmindedness and overall lack of attention or care.

Morning of July 28, 2014. Monday.



I am in an undefined indoor location in my dream but with somewhat of a sense of being in the Barolin Street house (where we moved from in the beginning of 2008), though there is also a lesser awareness of the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield (our first home together). Zsuzsanna is present in some scenes.

My attention is on a plastic doll of 18 inches of the generic kind that represents a female toddler in standing position, dressed in 1890s fashion. Apparently, I had gotten this doll in the mail recently. I notice a number of signatures of former schoolmates and friends, most written in either blue or black ink. The handwriting is mostly on the lower arms, hands, and legs of the doll.

Wrapped sparsely around parts of the doll is at least a four-foot length of sections of retied “wire”. Though it looks like barbed wire, it may be craft sinew. There are only a few twists around each limb and a few around the body. The “wire” firstly seems soft even at the junctures of the knots.

There is also a small booklet that is tied on with a small thin ribbon around the neck, which seems to hold a series of messages from different people over time and intended for anyone that temporarily has the doll before they mail it to someone else, the tone of the writing somewhat like that found in a typical school yearbook.

The doll also apparently serves as a fancy friendship book (FB), which is sent from person to person for each to add their contact details. (This was common practice for penpals, though some of whom annoyingly and intentionally collected the booklets and foldables of various themes, styles, and materials instead of passing them on). I am not sure who to send it to. I read a message from Toby, my best friend from school. He talks about what a good idea this “friendship book” is.

Later, there is a second doll, seemingly of which has not passed via as many people. The second one has sharp and thick barbed wire around it in a few areas of the limbs and body as well as a small part of the head. A length of it is disentangled and somewhat loose.

I consider sending both of the “friendship books” on their way, but I feel a bit uncertain because of the potential harm the projecting barbed wire (on the second doll) may present for those I send it to (or anyone handling the package itself assuming it is wrapped in paper rather than being sent in a box). I test the possible danger by moving my hand against the wire to make sure it is flatter and not of a potential to accidentally cut someone, but I soon come to believe that it would not be a good idea to mail either doll.

My dream starts to lose cohesion. When I look at the second doll again, it has transformed into a flat cardboard cut-out doll of the same frontal appearance. It begins to separate into sections and copies of those same sections, relating to a potential to then rebuild it, even the nose then needing to fit into the face of which has a cut-out circle where the nose cut-out would fit into, as well as a redundant additional full face cut-out. Eventually, the aspects of my dream change to where the transformed doll is apparently now a paper tole or 3D decoupage project. The “barbed wire” seems no longer present or relevant. I am not sure how to proceed, as it now seems a more time-consuming task to meet the responsibility of passing on the school reunion addresses, messages, and signatures.

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One layer of my dream was an incidental distortion of “wiring someone” as in sending them a message. However, barbed wire is associated with a fence and a fence typically represents a division between dreaming and waking (especially the higher preconscious level). Additionally, a doll typically symbolizes the status of being asleep and inactive while in the dream state and thus is not usually a symbol of real life relevance. I consider this dream important with respect to that understanding as it also redundantly validates a doll as of a specific level of unconsciousness due to the parallel symbolism of being “of a fence” (liminal space divider) as well as how being unconscious limits the movement of the physical body. There is an additional revelatory feature of the friendship book element regarding the transpersonal nature of the preconscious (closer to the collective unconscious than either the dream self or conscious self identity, relating to both static and dynamic influences from other people, though depending on the personal will of the individual).

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It was my dream self’s focus of intent that transformed the doll into flat cardboard and thus changed the original nature of my dream. Recall that I was deliberately checking to make sure the wire was not sharply protruding outward, so this was non-lucid dream control, not lucidity as I was unaware that I was dreaming in this case.

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Revised, clarified, and simplified for the casual reader on Sunday, 22 October 2017.

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Morning of July 28, 2014. Monday.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and children and I are at my (deceased in real life) sister Marilyn’s house in La Crosse. We all seem happy and my dream is mostly uneventful until I see a strange small animal with a somewhat longer body and short light-gray fur. It is running over the floor to get to the far corner from where I am seated in the living room, to where there is apparently a large mouse-hole in the baseboard. The creature, somewhat rodent-like, does not fully look like a real animal at first. However, in my dream, it is “known” to be a type of mole. I am soon able to pick it up and it is about twice the size of a mouse. After a short time, it begins to “vibrate” quite heavily with an intriguingly amplified catlike purring sound that moves through its entire body and seemingly through mine a little. I draw attention to the creature and its tame behavior to everyone else. The details of holding the animal and hearing and feeling the purring from it are extraordinarily vivid and pleasing. I would say it is like a composite of a large mouse and a very small mole with partial catlike behavior, although I think it is somewhat nervous in being picked up and carried around.

Knowing it is not a pet however, I am aware that I probably should let it go soon into the backyard, but am somewhat reluctant to do so. I am not sure that it will be able to survive. I briefly contemplate having it in a cage in the shed but do not take that course of action. Instead, I set it down on the grass near the back door and it scurries westward.

Shortly after this, my brother-in-law Bob finds it and starts poking it with a stick in a larger but shallow recess in the yard that seems as if it may be a nest of some kind. (A very similar thing happened with a very large opossum that found its way into his shed in reality about twenty years ago and I was annoyed by how he was mindlessly jabbing it with a large stick, trying to get it to go in no particular direction each time though it eventually left on its own after he left the shed.)

After a short time though, he stops. He then starts being despondent over his future and how he will have to live somewhere else soon, yet supposedly has no money or way to survive. For some reason he asks about my family’s survival as well, and he remains annoyed by my positivity and optimism. This part is unusual because it reflects the fact that my sister (his wife) had died earlier this year even though she had been alive in my dream a short time prior to this scenario.

The next part is quite strange, because it seems to relate to three “realities” at the same time. My wife and children living or trying to survive without me upon my apparent demise is the first “layer”. My “additional” living with them in a different house (instead of the large Loomis Street house - though my family has never been to America in real life) as another “layer”, and in the last “layer”, I am also living with my brother-in-law in a small apartment. Even though this seems to be a simultaneous three-way “composite of time” (similar to how locations are sometimes oddly trilocated), it is more like three potential branches of the “same” skewed timeline. “Alternate” histories have been in other dreams and seem not that uncommon.

This unusual mole possibly represents my persistence in trying to resolve lifelong mysteries (even long after they had been addressed and partly “solved” on certain mundane levels) by continuously “digging deeper”.

Morning of July 22, 2014. Tuesday.



My dream starts with highly unorthodox fishing. The location seems to be a new composite of our old (and first) home on Gellibrand Street (Clayfield, in Queensland, Australia) mixed with my sister’s old home on Loomis Street (La Crosse, Wisconsin, in America). The main ambiguity of the composite is relative to the porches. There seem to be two couches, both oriented north to south and facing west (assuming the Loomis Street house orientation). One couch is on the porch and the other inside the main room (Loomis Street house living room or Gellibrand Street bedroom), where there are large windows open to the porch in direct view of the other couch.

The couch inside the house is like the one I had in Florida, where the seat lifts up and there is a larger storage area underneath utilizing large boxlike compartments. The fishing, oddly enough, can start when I fill the storage area with water. After a time, when the water fills the bottom and a part of the floor somehow (though not very deep), fish may start to somehow come in from a nearby source, seemingly because they can then swim from some sort of channel or conduit near the house into the area occupied by the couch. As bizarre as that sounds, and as aware that I am, I do not catch on that I am dreaming.

There is a scene where an unknown dark-haired girl in glasses is on the porch. About three monkeys had been on the back of the couch on the porch. I notice that the foam-like stuffing is coming out from at least two large tears over the top of the back of the couch. It looks as if it had been shredded in that area. I realize that the monkeys had been eating the foam. One is still there and eating some of the foam. The girl also eats some of it while standing behind the couch. I call to my brother-in-law Bob to say that the monkey is eating the foam, and the girl thinks I am referring to her when I say “monkey” and expresses both annoyance and amusement. This situation is not resolved, as I just go back to fishing under the other couch in the house.

I watch the water closely and soon notice a fish (which I am aware came through a conduit near the wall or baseboard that connects to a larger body of water somewhere) following my bait in the storage area (as the couch seat is still up), which is a large earthworm I had put on a hook. Even though the water seems shallow, it swims and hooks itself and I catch it. It appears to be a small rock bass. I am also aware of a few other small fish; too small to bother with. After a time, I notice a shadow that seems like a very large fish, although this of course is not logical due to the shallow water. I believe it may be a large snake. I manage to hook it but decide to leave the house, leaving my fishing equipment behind, in case it is venomous.

I go into the kitchen and even though I am not lucid, I have full control of some events. The long, larger blacksnake comes into the room, but my brother-in-law will likely be able to deal with it and get it to go back outside. My sister Marilyn (deceased in reality) is also present. I rise in the air and not only do I have precise control of where I am in the air, I am able to stand “solidly” wherever I want in midair in any area of the room. This control is so precise, it is almost hard for me to believe now, when awake. Of course I get as close to the ceiling as possible in case the snake tries to strike, but mostly I move about in standing position in midair at various heights. Standing in midair does not seem unusual at all.

In the last part of my dream, when the snake has been forced back outside, I eventually go outside and to a small overpass over a large culvert area, which seems similar to the area my son took martial arts classes but larger and more expansive. Looking down, I see a tremendously large lighter brown serpent moving out from under the arced bridge below. Its head alone is about the size of three buses side-by-side. I do not even think about the extreme unlikelihood that a snake could be so impossibly huge and I see it as the “same” snake from earlier. (I am also aware that I had beckoned it somehow with my expectant waiting and readiness to see it, knowing it had likely left the house but just wanting to be sure it had left the house.) I am not really afraid. I am getting ready to inform my relatives about the snake being outside now when a pickup truck drives into and over it somehow. As the truck goes over it at an angle, leaving deep tire tracks on the top of its body, I notice that this huge serpent is seemingly being “destroyed” because it is like very soft mud. A couple more vehicles go over it, leaving deep ruts on its head and back until it is difficult to tell the giant snake from muddy recesses and inclinations.

Over time, the “same” blacksnake from before that had been in the house somehow comes from out of the “mangled” tremendous serpent as if it is still somehow the same snake all this time and it seems unharmed, though slightly sluggish.

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This may relate, on one level, to my digestive system. I have come to learn that, since early childhood, a snake, depending on my dream (and dream type), is often associated with the intestines (due to the shape and the coiling factor). In this particular case, there are other clues, such as the kitchen (place where I eat and drink), the implied conduit (digestive passage), lifting the couch seat up and filling with water (a possible toilet symbol), eating the wrong food (too much sugar or salt) as the foam stuffing from the other couch eaten by the monkeys and unknown girl, and too much monkeying around and needing to “put on glasses” to see more clearly what I am really consuming. Seeing the snake become huge (a bigger digestion problem than usual), but yet return to normal with focus and drive.

A snake, when rendered more realistically, is a main biological RAS waking alert, though does not fully serve that function here. However, I am on a bridge watching it below me. A bridge symbolizes a potential shift in consciousness, so that RAS potential is still a part of my dream’s dynamics.

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Morning of July 21, 2014. Monday.



There was a lot to this long dream, but only a few main points of interest, and there was a lot of distortion. The outstanding feature of this dream involved very long television antennas that were very much like giant “krazy straws” though they were glass-like, colorless, and fully transparent. They were also partly aligned with the house’s original metal antennas (but going much higher). These antennas are on two different houses on Loomis Street, one on the corner and one on the next house southward on the west side of the street (the same block where a sister, now deceased, had lived years ago). They go very high into the sky, possibly three times as long as a normal antenna, but seem fairly sturdy regardless of their convoluted shapes.

At one point, my sister and I are walking south down the alley in that area. There is a concern that the antenna of the corner house may actually fall down. There is no drama or threatening nature in any of the in-dream events, though. There is something about her neighbors cleaning their yard at one point and something about them getting rid of sets of duplicate books, I think. This dream is similar to others where the fence is missing.

Over the last few months or so, the Loomis and Gillette intersection and surrounding area has been oddly recurring, which may relate to my sister’s death, though I have not been there for over twenty years - and she had also been living elsewhere since I moved to Australia. I still think it may also relate to plays on “loom” (weaving or creating) and Gillette relating to something sharp or a play on “close shave” (relating to the avoidance of potential danger).

Morning of July 21, 2014. Monday.



In this dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I (as we appear now) seem to be living in a distorted version of my (deceased) brother Earl’s house on St. Cloud Street (though the furniture is in different places), though not with viable memory of my brother having ever lived there; a place I had not been in for over twenty years. (This house does not appear either on its own or as part of a composite as much as other houses I have been in in real life.)

I notice our baby daughter has a skin condition similar to our oldest son’s though “bubbly” and more raised. Oddly, this seems to be because she has eaten a lot of chocolate recently. (A part of this thread might be precognitive, though I would not know until years from now as in many other cases. For example, I saw exact imagery relating to our oldest son’s condition many years before it developed.)

Other people that do not all live there seem to be in the area but are outside near the mailbox (a precursory emergent conscious factor, though may also relate to mental communication with someone else). They are having a conversation near the front porch (the main door is open; only the screen door is closed) regarding the receiving of letters (possibly medical bills) about “cluster phobia”, and apparently one of them or someone they know had “cluster phobia”, which seems to be something about a cluster of different events at once. This sounds a bit like “claustrophobia” of course, but I have never had it, so it may just be typical dream state gibberish due to the lack of language skills while unconscious.

A diatryma (which is only as big here as a larger emu and similar in movement) comes into the living room where my family and I are and this does not surprise me at all. I seem to remember it is our pet (and I consider that we may have others like it). It is not threatening. However, I decide I will literally sacrifice myself to make sure my family has better health and a good life when I am gone (as well as to cure our youngest daughter from her supposed allergy). I find myself with a normal chicken egg and throw it to break it on the wall and the diatryma eats it from two different areas; where it hit the wall and cracked open, and the rest from the floor near what looks like part of a broken chair or table leg lying on the floor. There is a very vague awareness in the back of my mind that I had been certain it was a chicken egg and not one of the diatryma’s eggs.

I move forward and bow down to sacrifice myself with the focus of my intent precise and expectant. However, the bird mostly only pecks me hard on the head (as if in an attempt to make me more alert to its presence) and then acts like a dog or cat and rubs against me, walking about on each side of me. It then seems to leave the scene. I sense that it sees me as an important human companion and would never harm me, despite my willingness to sacrifice myself to it.

Later, my dream takes on a recurring familiar scenario (which I suspect has something to do with both my visits to haylofts when very young and how I never went all the way to the top of the Copeland Park rocket slide as a child due to my distinct perception of its assumed precarious nature). The others (both relatives and unknown people) are going to be going upstairs to the second storey. I decide to go up first but the way to get up is by ladder and then through a small doorway I cannot quite fit through. This annoys me because it means I will not be able to live upstairs as I am “supposed” to. I tell them it is not possible to be upstairs and walk around to the back of the house. Once I go into the house through the back (of which is a backyard similar to that of our present home), I realize that there is a normal staircase that goes up to the second floor and so I will be using that one. At that point my dream fades. (At this point, the layout is perceived as much like our present home, though there is no second floor in reality. The staircase would be oriented south to north on the east side of our kitchen.) This validates the linear logic of the waking transition. That is, the St. Cloud Street house transforms to where we live now as I am closer to waking (emergent consciousness factor).

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This is an unusual type of sustained return flight waking symbolism (otherwise my most common type, at least once per sleeping period since early childhood), which changes into another form with the same meaning (staircase as waking precursor, representing the return to consciousness). The prehistoric bird cannot fly. My dream self, in having at least some of my conscious self identity, somehow understands the nature of RAS and actually wants to activate it by “sacrificing” my fictional dream self to the understanding that my physical body cannot fly on its own in reality. This is also why I throw the egg to destroy it to prevent other potential flight symbolism (even though chickens cannot really fly very well). This denotes a type of non-lucid dream control (not active lucidity where I am consciously aware I am dreaming). This is an unusual case where my dream is sustaining my sleep with its clearer symbolism rather than creating typical conflict with the preconscious.

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Morning of July 20, 2014. Sunday.



I believe this dream was partly influenced from recently seeing that awful movie “Dead and Gone” from 2008. Sped-up or similarly manipulated scenes in movies these days are one of the most annoying blights of modern cinema and I cannot understand why people deliberately ruin movies this way. When did “faster” go from being over-the-top comedic (and completely unrealistic as such) to supposedly “scarey”? My dream had also been influenced by a movie from the night before, which was a very mild Korean horror film (“Forbidden Floor” from 2006) which was not all that bad, though it did have a bit of pointlessly irritating sped-up rubbish relating to the “ghost”, but less than the other movie.

My wife and family and I are living in a house that vaguely reminds me of the house on Barolin Street, but is of two storeys. The area is also a bit isolated, with a very large empty lot on at least the north side of the building (but separated by a taller wooden fence). We live downstairs and two unknown older ladies live on the second floor. Over time, the ladies complain about us being too noisy when we had not made any noise at all (and were not even home during one supposed noise-making time period). (This of course, sounds rather odd anyway, as we are the ones living downstairs.) At one point, one of the older ladies moves towards me with her usual in-dream complaining and with hatred in her eyes (looking quite a bit like the several women from “Dead and Gone” - none of whom I could really tell apart very well, which made it hard for me to follow). I am in the larger empty lot at that point, having gone through the gate. I notice that my in-dream weapon of choice, a large silver dumbbell bar, is leaning against the fence on the inside of the large lot, to the right of the gate. I eventually hit her on the head a couple times (she seems somewhat “demonic” by this point) and then dig a large hole to bury her, thankful that I do not have to put up with at least one of the ladies from above from that point.

I go into the house and there are soon apparently visitors, but I do not know who yet or whether or not they are connected with authority. At this point, the female I had killed in my dream, and supposedly buried, somehow becomes a manilla folder of documents, and I stick it between some other documents in the closet to “hide her body” (the closet of which looks much like the large bathroom storage cupboard where we now live but rotated 180 degrees around so that it faces north, and is mostly filled with textbooks and papers. (As such, it also vaguely reminds me of where my mother-in-law had moved from, leaving her place such an utter disaster that it caused her landlord to actually stop being in the rental business).

My wife and I sit down on a couch that faces east though the room seems similar to the Stadcor Street living room now. Our large German Shepherd dog comes in (we do not have a dog in reality) from our left, as well as a large older (unfamiliar) cat. Three smaller dogs (which are somewhat like a cross between darker-colored terriers and chihuahuas) that belonged to the ladies upstairs also come in. We talk about how we can stop these small irritating dogs (that do not even belong to us and are completely unwanted in our residence) from coming in as my dream loses coherence.

Morning of July 19, 2014. Saturday.



My beautiful wife Zsuzsanna and I are living back on Stadcor Street in Brisbane (though with present minor associations). Our house is a bit different but my dream is mostly set in the kitchen. The actors (maintaining insignificant idiosyncrasies from the roles they play) from “Everybody Loves Raymond”; Doris Roberts and Peter Boyle; are my wife’s parents and are visiting us. (I believe the other three main actors are also there at one point but uninvolved in any continuity and in the background.)

A large meatloaf has been made (not sure by whom) and is sitting on a large plate in the middle area of the counter, but it is a “vegetarian meatloaf” (a true oxymoron if I ever heard one) apparently made with only vegetables and soy. It is also fairly high; about four times higher than a typical meatloaf. We are all in the kitchen, seated at a large table, although Zsuzsanna at one point seems to be in a fictional room on the other side of the kitchen (entrance unseen) where there was no additional room in reality other than the outside laundry area. I make a comment about preferring meatloaf with beef. Doris makes a comment while holding her hand up to her chest and talking about a time when beef from a different meatloaf (I think in reference to an unknown restaurant) somehow got stuck in her chest for a time. This part of my dream seems the most vivid and focused though it really does not make much sense and almost feels surreally metaphorical even though I am not lucid.

My wife had been talking to an unknown male on the telephone for a long time (relating to our fictional business or something about transportation). There is ambiguity associated with a payphone being in the back area off the kitchen, next to the back door - on the wall to the right of the door. I am somewhat annoyed by my wife’s “parents” being there and so do not quite feel like myself or wanting to “act like myself”. As a result, I act a bit differently (contrary to my personality) on purpose.

There is another scene where my youngest son plays a television video game or computer game, which creates or utilizes a large screen on the kitchen wall somehow (where there were windows in reality), yet he seems to be playing it in an area in the small hallway which you otherwise would not see that area of the kitchen from directly.

There is also a scene where I feel badly and quite sad about my oldest son not having hair on the back of his head. His skin (especially on the back of his head) seems unusual as well, with larger wrinkles and a sore, aged look (mostly a fictional condition in-dream, though he has had cystic acne for a long time, which one local idiot doctor says was the chicken pox).

I think I know the influence of this one at least in part. The episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond”, season 3 episode 5 (“The Visit”), that I had just seen involved Debra pointing to Marie indicating she wanted her mother to be like her (as my wife’s real mother causes everyone she knows, including neighbors and random business owners and even bus drivers, serious troubles by continuously lying to authority - even setting up fake crime scenes - though this has not been a concern for years at least for us). Also, the main scene may relate to “having a beef” (or complaint).

Morning of July 16, 2014. Wednesday.



Zsuzsanna and our family and I appear to be living on Barolin Street though it seems more like my Cubitis bedroom inside at one point. There is no fence as on Barolin Street and the house is much closer to the road (Highway Seventeen) than the Cubitis house was, so it is an interesting new composite as is usually the case.

I have this unusual heightened sense of mortality for some reason, especially at one point where I am lying on the bed near the windows. It seems to relate to our bedroom’s closeness to the main road and the steady traffic. However, it also seems to relate to airplanes that fly over now and then. This dream soon seems to be directly influenced and “scripted” by noises outside, including at least two low-flying airplanes.

The airplane in my dream is flying south (assuming Cubitis - but north if assuming Barolin Street). It is fairly loud and seems to land in an area of town I cannot fully see as it moves down behind the buildings, though it does not seem to be landing in the right area. I hold the anticipatory impression that there will be a crash landing. Even though it is likely in the distance, perhaps two to four miles away, there is an explosion that affects all of the cars on the road just outside, which are also all going south, the explosion’s repercussions being like some sort of domino effect. It is unusual in that the airplane’s explosion seems to mildly threaten our house with debris or fire even though it is supposedly far away. Not only that, each and every car’s engine explodes very quickly and smoothy in a series (south to north) and yet not a single person is hurt. They just get out of their car and look around. Of course, they cannot drive their car anymore at this point. Only the one part of the front of the car looks a bit damaged or different, in some cases, only larger and more squarish.

This scene repeats a little later but this time with a little more detail. It is almost as if this happens on a regular basis since we seem to know what to do in going into a different room in the house for a short time. After the explosions, I look outside and see all the people standing near the cars (all on the right side) and very similar minor damage to each front, all cars in an even row, equidistant, and all similar models. After I wake, I hear an airplane flying overhead after a short time in reality, thus there is not much to this dream other than RAS mediation triggered by real low-flying airplanes - even though it would otherwise be typical autosymbolism related to vestibular system ambiguity, which is why I also typically “expect crash landings” in the dream state regarding subliminal associations with the usual waking start or falling sensation as such. Additionally, the people on the right of their car relates to waking symbolism most often being to the right.

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Morning of July 15, 2014. Tuesday.



I am seemingly in the living room in Cubitis (middle childhood home), but it is somewhat distorted in layout. An unknown taller, slimmer older lady with mostly lighter gray hair and I think wire-rim glasses is there in the southeast area and I am at some sort of table or desk in the southwest area, but closer to the hallway entrance. She seems to be either some sort of teacher or just there to watch and comment on what I am doing or supposedly learning.

There was a lot more to this dream but it was quite distorted and involved quite a bit of in-dream reading. I am, at one point near the ending - reading a page near the front of a large book with two main aspects or ingredients that are supposed to be part of some sort of concoction relating to something like magic or developing some sort of more focused insight or greater success in upcoming endeavors. There is a word or name that is something like “Agnatha”, which in reality relates to silver lampreys (eels). After that is some some sort of abbreviation that reads exactly as “aN” (lowercase a followed immediately by uppercase N) which is supposed to mean “silver” or be a symbol for silver in my dream but is not correct. The actual symbol for silver is Ag, which is curious, as that is the beginning of “Agnatha” (the next syllable being “an” in reverse).

Apparently, “Natha” also relates to a Buddhist deity as well as a sect: “Natha, religious movement of India whose members strive for immortality by transforming the human body into an imperishable divine body” - which loosely seems to relate to one part of the in-dream book mentioned above. None of this was on my mind in any way, though I have taught chemistry in the recent past. Typical layered composite “gibberish” for this dream-type.

Just realized that Agnatha could be written as AgNaThA, which would be one atom of silver, sodium - and isotope Thorium A whatever that would produce.

Morning of July 12, 2014. Saturday.



At one point in this longer but fairly vague dream, I am flying over an area in an unknown region which may be some type of large zoo. There are several smaller rivers in a mostly parallel continuity, seemingly towards the south. Oddly, the whole landscape seems to be inside a very large building with a very high ceiling, and with similar features to that above a stage. I notice several lionesses and cubs near and in the shallow rivers and for a time, now and then, am concerned about flying too low but this does not happen and there does not seem to be much danger anyway.

I eventually end up at a bookstore where there is a sale outside with one small table with several wells (recesses) in which the base of the book stacks start from. There are also some underneath, I think in a cardboard box. My wife and at least our two youngest sons are there. My dream seems to “reset” to a similar scenario at least once, which involves something about buying three books really cheap, I think something like a dollar each, but that does not seem real to me for some reason and actually causes my dream to lose cohesion because of its “lack of realism” regarding the cheaper prices (regardless of the fill-a-bag sales we went to years ago).

As with most dreams, this one had a more insignificant layer that was precognitive (though doubly precognitive, based on two unrelated sections).

Night of July 5, 2014. Saturday.



I am apparently listening to a radio broadcast in a state of half-dreaming. The announcer clearly says “Russell Cayman’s dead”. I have no idea who that is (I have not listened to a radio for many years) and for a moment, I think of (a type of animal) caimans (alligatorid crocodylians). This seemed like some sort of telepathic pulse (or perhaps a postcognitive remnant or “artifact”), but who knows? I am not even sure of the spelling.

Morning of July 4, 2014. Friday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in the garage on Duffy Street where we lived when we first came to Bundaberg. There is a (fictional) large aquarium aligned along the wall on the opposite side from our main door. There are a few interesting plants and about four or five main types of creatures.

The water is very clean and clear. Two giant mole crickets, a little longer than my hand (and my veiw of them seemingly magnified), are swimming near the bottom. The detail is amazing and vivid though I am not lucid. Zsuzsanna comes out and actually grabs one and lifts it from the tank but puts it back a little later. It is almost like a lobster (or at least reminiscent of one). There is no concern or uneasiness of any kind.

Our garage door is open and several unknown neighbors walk by outside, a couple seemingly living where we would be living relative to the direction they came from, though they are visiting the other apartment in front.

Eventually however, one unfamiliar male neighbor comes in and soon shuts our garage door behind him which I feel is a bit imposing but I do not say or do anything regarding this act. He reminds me of a celebrity in my dream but I do not now recall who it would be, possibly Sam Neill as he appeared in “Jurassic Park” but I am not certain.

He gives a warning about one type of life-form in our aquarium, claiming it is very venomous. I look down and see that he is pointing to and talking about a cluster of brownish to rust-colored and kite-shaped fuzzy plant-like creatures that seem to open and close near the “top” of the kite shape (the kite shape having slight inward arcs on all sides). I am not that concerned and I am not sure if he is correct. I do not remember what he calls them. I say something absentmindedly about “Little Fuzzies” in relevance to the 1962 science-fiction novel “Little Fuzzy” by H. Beam Piper. I am not sure what the connection is; it seems mostly that I am just forcing conversation to lighten the situation.

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Update: I am documenting this as postcognitive (precognitive in light of my own perspective) on my main journal only, as I actually brought up a cover in Google which I had never seen before that features a large lobster-like creature with a “Little Fuzzy”. Seeing something directly from a recent dream in quite precise patterns (relative to in-dream context and associations, often ridiculously trivial or impersonal) has happened on a day to day basis all my life, so often that I often do not even mention it, but decided to here because of the higher unlikelihood.

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Morning of June 28, 2014. Saturday.



My wife Zsuzsanna’s younger brother George is visiting us at our present address and I am telling him of my unusual dream about a red sailboat. This event actually happens in a longer-lasting false awakening. Zsuzsanna and I are together on our bed and he is also on our bed a bit farther over, with his cellphone. I believe there is an image on his cellphone that has something to do with my other dream, or at least something about sailboats or the ocean.

In real life however, I would not consider talking with him about dreams, as he has no interest in anything related to either dreams or spirituality (though that is moot I suppose, as most people have zero understanding of dreams and the nature of the dream state, though Zsuzsanna and I have an advanced understanding - validated of course by the fact she is my literal dream girl, and we share our dreams); so as such, even though this is a false awakening, it is one that represents a highly unlikely scenario, unlike those where you dream you have awakened and are recording your dream in a journal or notepad or are relating it to someone you might be inclined to in reality.

The linked primary dream prior to this false awakening involves me floating over the scene where I am looking down at the ocean towards sunrise or sunset. A sailboat passes within my line of vision (seemingly moving “upwards” in my perspective and orientation). Everything in the environment is of a normal natural color except for (eventually) everything related to the sailboat, which appears to be covered in some sort of odd, fluid “paint” which I actually see cover everything relating to the sailboat fairly quickly. The sailboat and everything on it is soon red, including the sails and all the man’s body (skin and hair) and clothes. Everything is completely red all around, somehow more “solid” than just a lighting effect.

Later, the sailboat seems to crash onto a beach (and it then seems a few hours earlier than just before rather than logically later - unless it is implied to be the next morning) with no one hurt. There are several people on the beach. The man soon gets out of the sailboat and the colors seem to go back to normal.

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Typically, red only dominates a dream when my breathing is accelerated (validated by witnesses during my virtually countless experiments with dreams in the 1980s) or when I have slept a little too long, which makes sense here, as a sailboat is both an autosymbolic extension of the physical body (subliminally perceived) and the sails are a breathing analogy as revealed in instances of hypnopompic disclosure (when the meaning of a dream’s autosymbolism surfaces upon waking).

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