Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 16, 2014. Friday.



Regarding a related anniversary-like link, I found that one of this morning’s dreams, as is sometimes the case (sometimes with postcognitive potential), links up to past aspects around the same time period by year. The “anniversary” associations (not the exact day, but fairly close) relate to an article I just coincidentally found (without any search or intent) that was published on May 13, 2013; “Skylab’s Remains: NASA Space Station Debris in Australia (Photos)” and the fact that Skylab was launched on May 14, 1973 according to Wikipedia and the NASA website (though some sources, including the plaque in Australia say the 24th of May). Today’s date, presently, from my location, is May 16, 2014 though it is apparently still May 15 in, for example, California.

In my dream, some old friends and I are somehow on board the Skylab. I am not sure what our mission is, if any mission is even implied. There are also different rooms for seemingly different types of people; for example, each in their own niche or clique, so to speak. There is a group of obese women who seem to actually live, half-dressed, in a circular sauna area near the “bottom” area of Skylab. This area is amusingly known as “Coffeelab”. (My wife Zsuzsanna and I do not drink coffee as neither of us can stand the taste or smell. Caffeine also has the opposite effect on me than supposedly with other people and makes me feel extraordinarily tired.)

Over time, some maintenance needs to be done, I believe of which relates to the cylindrical oxygen tank. Somehow, there is a very large coffee machine which is sort of torus-shaped (like a giant lifesaver) but more like a trapezoidal template than circular where the narrower “top” is oriented inward. This coffee machine is sixteen feet above the women. (This particular distance has recurred in dreams since childhood for whatever reason).

Something goes wrong with the coffee machine and the connecting bars loosen and break, causing it to fall on the obese women (there being about six of them). They are mostly only in towels and giggling and gossiping mindlessly until the coffee machine falls on them, falling down through the cylindrical construct. A little later, the debris cannot be seen, but the women are all lying about having been killed, the largest on her back with her arms and legs out, like in some sort of horizontal jumping jack position or X-shape.

From here, my friends and I are told by the Skylab mission control that we need to drink all the coffee that is still available before it “goes to waste”. This seems like a strange task. The coffee is disgusting and has large granular blobs in it (as it then seems like instant coffee which is even worse than that from a coffee machine), almost like drinking mud. I spend several minutes (during at least three time periods) stirring the large glass I have with a small metal rod of some kind and watch the interesting and seemingly powerful swirls (like a variation of the Yin Force, or Yin and Yang integrating), which seem magnified. My hands seem magnified as well, which is a fairly common perspective in my dreams when focusing on my body. From there, I just continue to watch the attractive Yin-and-Yang-like patterns and whirlpool-like effects without drinking any more sludge.

There have been similar dreams where bliss began to dominate my dream when it involved Yin-and-Yang-like patterns or whirlpool effects, including the whale song dream of February 22, 2013. I also count the “Tornado!” dream of September 13, 1970 (wife’s birthday) as one because of the implied joining of the Yin and Yang forces before I knew of her real existence (at least as one interpretation).

Morning of May 16, 2014. Friday.



My dream starts out with some annoying elements but becomes lucid and blissful. There is the usual recurring idea of living back in my King Street boarding house and not having paid rent for some time. My wife is living in the apartment with me; the one with the two larger closets, one with a built-in dresser, and the smaller multicolored window, the apartment of which I lived in for a time in real life (over time, I had lived in a total of three different apartments in the mansion-like building - it is strange because it is the only place I lived on my own in terms of single renting for about ten years on and off, I guess because it was only twenty to twenty-five dollars a week even in 1989).

Somehow, this seems very unusual even now. It is almost as if, even though I had not lived there since the late 1980s, I still owe all that back rent due to “still being there” at one level of memory all these years. It sounds quite strange, I know, but may be resolved one day.

My wife goes out into the hallway and yells at someone to turn their radio down. This is quite a bold act for her and she actually does it twice, and amazingly enough, the annoying loud music stops. It seems to be coming from outside to the west, though, rather than in our building.

Later in my dream, I go downstairs and notice that the door to the owners’ residence is open. They were a main promoter of Watkins products in real life (based in Winona, Minnesota) and it looks like a group of people are there for advice or pricing information. I think about my careful approach to talk about somehow paying the rent I supposedly owe (it seems in my dream that I had never paid any, which is a tad ridiculous). As usual, the landlady is extraordinarily sarcastic (even though in real life, she had actually offered me the chance to live there without paying rent, which I never took her up on). I ask her if there is any way that I could work for her and she talks about finding certain minerals - which apparently are only found in the Arctic regions (or North Pole, even though it is mostly ocean in reality compared to Antarctica).

My wife and I are soon outside. I become semi-lucid. A few other (unknown) people are following us, as I just decide to rise in the air and fly north. My wife is able to fly on her own to my right. We are greatly enjoying ourselves for the most part. However, the other people following us are really annoying and “violating our space” so I knock two of them back to the ground. This is actually a rarer dream where “normal” people can also supposedly fly.

We reach the Arctic regions fairly quickly and it seems quite beautiful. The idea of finding the special rare minerals seems to take a backseat to other ideas. The cold air, ice, and water are thrilling and my dream becomes even more vivid. I notice an open area that is like a larger river of sorts with ice floes here and there. In the water more to my left are a few smaller schools of fish. A regular event occurs which we watch several times. The smaller fish are “trapped” in a small but mobile whirlpool-like area that acts as such for a few minutes in a particular location, where a northern pike (the detail quite clear and correct in terms of imagery) rises up from the water, eating all or almost all of the fish each time. In afterthought, there is a play on “Great Northern”, which is a familiar link to the “Great Northern Railway” as related to or symbolizing the Source. This seems to be saying that “normal” people can not follow the “train of thought” (or see outside their own path or “trap”) regarding the real meaning of dreaming and thus are consumed by the Source perhaps without even being aware of the Source at all (the evidence of such which is virtually endless). This also seems related to the last dream of the same morning, which also featured a whirlpool (in the large glass of coffee aboard Skylab).

In both dreams, I am outside the whirlpool but still see it as beautiful and like a “portal” into infinity.

In one, the smaller “herd-mentality” fish (or symbolically “lemmings”?) are trapped and eaten by the northern pike in my “ideal dream environment”.

In the other, I am stirring the coffee (making the whirlpool) which is full of “dregs”. My role seems somewhat equivalent to that of the pike’s in the second dream.

Therefore, I may be able to conclude that in this case “small fish” equals “dregs” equals “ordinary” people who deny the Source where I may seemingly be a facet of the Source in the first dream as I become lucid. Interesting. Comparing it to my “Tornado!” dream of September 13, 1970, there seems to be an ongoing “force” that is now more harmonious (and far more “visible”) than when younger and it probably also relates to the implied “portal” of the blue flame or “Blue Pearl” event which started prenatally (and I certainly do not buy the idea that you “cannot” remember your childhood or perspective prior to birth - my most vivid memory is prenatal - perhaps because I was a month overdue or because of my NDE as a toddler).

Afternoon of May 16, 2014. Friday.



Of my 40,000 dreams or so I have meticulously documented and often eventually resolved, this entry takes a look at the English alphabet. It is obviously not complete (the more complex issues I will write about later on) and is mostly focused on my own inherent knowledge and lifelong experience (although some of it is quite obvious). This entry is related to primarily only uppercase letters.

Letter A, because of being the first letter of the alphabet, the first vowel, the symbol for “one” and because of looking like a snow-covered mountaintop, so therefore can relate to both isolation and feeling “on top of the world”, can also represent a “beginning” of sorts. It also looks like a pencil tip or arrow. It can also represent a Taurus, though I only use astrology in a symbolic sense and do not believe at all in the system itself.

Letter B may represent weakness, or being “second”. There are several ways to look at this. “Rounded teeth”, being “second to A”, and others. It can also relate to number 13 because of the image appearing as a 1 and 3 pressed together. On the other hand, it may relate to female breasts, in terms of basic imagery.

Letter C is the “internal” force of Yin and Yang or “half” of Yin and Yang while S is the outer force. Even westerners know this (at least the elite and more developed minds), which is how S and C also came to represent dollars and cents ($ and ¢), in that order. No coincidence. Money is the force that moves the world, similar to how Yin and Yang dominate the spiritual world. It could also represent incompleteness or needing to find your soulmate (because of it looking like a circle with a “missing piece”).

Letter D looks somewhat like a “tongue sticking out”, so could represent gossip or sarcasm, but there is a lot more to it, of course.

Letter E is a variation of “three”, depending on how a person interprets three. “E” can relate to being “average”, or even “mediocre” due to it being the most commonly used letter.

Letter F can be a variation on incompleteness due to it being like a “broken E”. However, it can also relate to “going your own way” because of that.

Letter G is similar to the concept of a “fixed path”, but one which is not yet “finalized”. There are several lowercase letters which relate to the Yin and Yang construct, those being b, d, p, q, and g. Numbers, though not as significant here, being 2, 4, 16, 17, and 7. Note that the idea of “mind your ps and qs” add up to 33, which is 11 more than 22. 33 is a different link to Yin and Yang which I have not done as much work in. Lowercase “p” is “q” mirrored and vice versa.

Letter H can be a ladder section or a railway track section depending on perspective. For me, it represented the Yin force and my links to the Temple of Hathor.

Letter I can be related to the self, as well as a “straight and narrow” path. It could even relate to the “eye” in some way, such as a health concern. It can also be a variation of number one.

Letter J, because of its shape, represents a warning about being “trapped” or “caught”, but not always. It could represent a negative relationship, human or otherwise (because of the “hooked” implications).

Letter K, I have written a lot on regarding the “K-Seal” and the play on number eleven. It represents a special communication from the Source. (It appears somewhat like a sideways envelope icon). It is also half of the “heart on the plane” and therefore for me, represented my validation with my twin flame. Note that when you take the 22nd letter which is V, which in turn is the “heart on the plane” when the twos are mirrored face to face (which also has a “V” in it) and then take the “sideways 3” off the top, you then have the uppercase letter K on its side. Quite intriguing, actually. Far too complex to be coincidental, especially as K is the eleventh letter and V the twenty-second, and of course the additional play that 1 < 3 (one, less than, three) can also imply two (though that is not the technical mathematical usage, but it still “reads” as such). There are so many layers here that circle back on themselves, it can only be long-term planning at other levels of consciousness over lifetimes.

Letter L can probably relate to changing your mind, or, because of the image, may be a variation on the number seven. It basically also represents a corner, angle, or outlook. In turn, it can represent a play on “angel” (because of the similarity to the world “angle” - in fact, my father often spelled “angel” as “angle” to deliberately annoy people or to see if they “caught” it. We had a lot of fun together in my youth).

Letter M can represent Virgo, or Yin, or feminine supraconscious forces. Letter W is a variation on this. Children often draw the ocean as one long “letter M” and the ocean can represent deeper levels of consciousness, including the supraconscious or collective consciousness

Letter N can represent momentum or rhythm or be an alteration of how one views letter Z.

Letter O can be either completeness or “feeling like nothing” depending on viewpoint, as letter O also looks like zero, or “zer oh”, so “O” is actually sounded in the word “zero”, as well as people saying “O” instead of “zero” in a number sequence.

Letter P can relate to being incomplete in one sense because of a “broken BE” or with ideals being high.

Letter Q in my case represented my link to Yin, and moving from the “inner order” to the “outer order” (shown by the line that crosses the circle going from in to out or the reversal depending on your view) in my association with several personal clues and astounding significant “plays”, those being “Susie Q” (and my wife being in QLD at the time of first contact as well as Q being followed by the two capital letters of my last name in this case), and many other more recent ones (such as the omnipotent being on “Star Trek: The Next Generation” as well as representing Quetzalcoatl and my recurring dreams of resplendent quetzals). It also can be a play on “cue” or “cute” or even “clue”.

Letter R can relate to energy in a more complex or “visible” way, though it may also be “too” stimulating.

Letter S is the outer force of Yin and Yang as well as Kundalini energy. In my case, C begins my first name, and S begins my wife’s first name when anglicized. It can also represent harmony as well as a lack of money (for example, in being an “incomplete” dollar symbol). S and C together is completeness: 19th letter and 3rd letter total V, the 22nd letter. Obviously S and C is also “dollars and cents” with a play on cents also being “sense”. (This is even more relevant, to me, the “Yang/Yank” coming to where they do not even use the concept of “cents” - but simply pretend there are pennies or single units - a rather bizarre, distorted scene to be sure - whereas America does not have the “dole”/dollar in the way Australia does, so there you go.)

Letter T is Yang, Christ, Sagittarius, a play on nine, or in a negative sense, a “block” or division in a relationship - relating to “crossroads” (nearly all symbols have opposite potentials). It loosely represents a crown or similar form of authority.

Letter U is either a “changed mind” a symbol for gossip or “refusal” or simply a play on “you”. Note how it also can represent the human tongue. It may also represent refusal to “see” the source, as “you” is a representation of ego. (I do not normally write “you is”, haha, this being a special circumstance.)

Letter V is another form of Yin and Yang, and represents love (being the bottom half of the heart) as well as “V for Valentine” and the 22nd master number representation.

Letter W is related to being with your soulmate or even more-so your twin flame, due to the play on “double you” which is a reference to your “twin” or partner in life. It is also a play on Yin and “inverted” Virgo.

Letter X seems to represent another form of the “crossroads” - some people believe that Christ was crucified on an “X” rather than a “T” or “t”. It sort of relates to a person with their arms and legs out as in either full openness or lack of direction.

Letter Y was a personal clue for me of Yin and Yang. The “sign” that linked my wife and I since childhood was a “letter Y” with a horizontal line through the middle. However, this can also be a play on a lot of things, including an “arrow”, the question “Why?” It could relate to the very next and last letter (“Z”) in asking “Why death?” or “Why sleep?”

Letter Z represents sleep (or possibly death). I even have had dreams where I saw Zs floating above a dream character’s head, but this has not been for a long time and I think is mostly a childhood concern.

I have left a lot out here, but may touch upon it again at a future date.

Morning of May 15, 2014. Thursday.

Dream #: 17,314-04. Reading time: 2 min 45 sec.



I am riding in a landau with Zsuzsanna either late at night or early in the morning before dawn in Rochester, Minnesota. I get the feeling we are enjoying an expensive tour. The unknown coachman is on our left as I sit in the middle. At one point, we are going down 2nd Street SW so that when we turn right, we will go past the Mayo Clinic Baldwin Building. There are many high buildings adjacent to the streets. There is no other traffic or any other people.

What is surreal about this scene is that the small brown horse pulling the carriage is nearly half a city block ahead of us on a very long lead rein. It seems to be like this so that tourists cannot take control or cause the landau to go in a different direction. Even so, the lead rein seems too slack for feasible control of the horse. I wonder what will happen when we get to an intersection and have to turn the corner.

When the horse reaches the intersection and turns right, we have to stop. We have to get out of the carriage to push and align it to the perpendicular street to continue our journey. I consider we will probably have to do this several times before we get to our destination. Zsuzsanna and I decide to walk.

In a room on the second floor of the hotel, I find a television broadcast annoying, but I am unsure how to turn it off. Zsuzsanna is on the bed, and there is an unusual movement over her skin, like a ripple effect (reminiscent of moderate ocean waves).

Later, I am in a library where there are many other people. I am standing in an area near a long table that is mostly to my right. A young male approaches me and pulls something out of my left plaid shirt pocket with his right hand. It is a Mars candy bar wrapper. He throws it on the table while claiming it is against library policy for anyone to carry a card in their pocket. His activity makes no sense to me, and I decide to punch him and knock him to the floor.

My instinctual awareness of being in the dream state increases to full recognition I am dreaming. I leave the library, though it is now part of a larger building. I follow two people out into the hall as I see it is like a college I went to and later worked at in maintenance in La Crosse.

I walk westerly down the hall. I see through the glass doors that sparse raindrops are falling outside. It now seems to be winter. I feel anticipation because I enjoy walking and flying in the rain in dreams, and I know it will vivify my dreaming experience. When I walk outside, the rain is stopping. I walk down the alley, and my awareness seems to fade only slightly.

I am sitting on the ground. I look out from the end of the alley and notice a pair of feminine legs that shine with a golden light. (It is a pale gold but then closer to canary yellow, but at one point, it looks mottled with white or paler yellow). The unknown girl stands near a parked car. She is briefly talking on a payphone but then on her cell phone. She is wearing a short dark blue skirt and black stilettos. For a time, I can only see her from the waist down due to a low tree branch blocking the rest of the scene. I am intrigued.

Otherwise, she seems to be an ordinary woman engaging in everyday activities. When I get up and go closer, I see her walking a bit north from the car, but she stops and looks at me as if expecting me to say something. My dream fades as her glowing skin dims somewhat.

My liminal awareness arises to full recognition of being in transition in my dream relative to the shifting somatosensory dynamics and my physical orientation in bed (a factor more sustained in childhood).

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Morning of May 15, 2014. Thursday.

Dream #: 17,314-04 decoding. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.

This entry explains the dream content causation of “Long Rein, Short Rain, Candy Bar Wrapper, Golden Legs,” a long dreaming experience that includes the usual dreaming processes and liminal navigation caused by being in REM sleep.

The horse is the simulacrum that anticipates achieving control over my physical body during the waking transition. The lead rein is too long because of the instinctual recognition that I cannot move my body as long as I am asleep. The unknown coachman is this dream’s kinaesthetic personification, a factor of my duality caused by dreaming and a model of the ambiguity of liminal space.

An intersection models synaptic gating while dreaming as a result of being in REM sleep. The horse turns to the right, an expectation I will move to my right upon waking, as I sleep on my left side.

(The woman with gold legs at the end of my dream is also to my right. She represents the same factor. Both are focused on the anticipation of leg movement that is only possible when awake, other than myoclonus.)

The next scene validates I am dreaming, as it features a bed in a fictitious hotel room. There is an instinctual recognition of the imaginary somatosensory perceptions of dreaming that creates ripples on Zsuzsanna’s skin.

A library correlates with cerebral activity and seeking to read. Somatosensory dynamics are still perceived, though the illusion features a candy bar wrapper someone takes from my shirt pocket. I think of enhancing my imaginary experience with the sensation of rain on my skin (also a form of virtual melatonin mediation). The candy bar wrapper reminds me my dream body’s skin is not real. I assume the card referred to is an identification card, so this is confirming my dream self is neither my waking-life identity nor can viably read in the imaginary library.

Gold becomes predominant in my dreams when closer to the threshold of the final waking process and represents the daytime (as a circadian rhythm factor) and coming into awareness of daylight. Here, it has dual associations with the recognition my body is immobile as I sleep, and the wakefulness personification has golden legs. She is also communicating, first by payphone (requiring standing up), and by cell phone, and then by looking directly at my imaginary dream self.

My entire dream stems from the seeking of the mind-body connection that is only viable when awake, from resolving sleep atonia (with minor anticipation of myoclonus) to preparing to walk. (I am lying on the ground in the final scene, after sitting up, becoming more aware of my body’s sleeping position. This factor is a common attribute of my dreaming history.)

The selection of the simulacra as the kinaesthetic dynamics seem ultimately random. Even so, a horse is more likely to kick (myoclonus), though over time (my dream being longer than average), the woman with “daylight legs” appears after I look out from the end of an alley (in becoming more aware of physical immobility while sleeping).

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Morning of May 14, 2014. Wednesday.



The first part of my dream was quite interesting in a personal sense and was like a “breakthrough” event which I have not had at such a deep level for some time, I think, especially as it had sort of “clever” associations with some other recent dreams. (For example, a recent dream featured the term “Kill Zone” and this one had “Send Zone” as part of the last event. For a long time, my dreams have sometimes had concepts that repeated in twos for two days in a row, or sometimes threes; for example, the patting someone on the upper back from their left, stuffed animals as a possible “threat”, and several others.) Also, it related to my wife’s dream of the same time period in a very deep and unusual way (relating to the “other” apparently and some sort of energy sent back through time).

I am not sure of the location or address (it seems to change several times, actually) but I am with my family. There is some mail that is piled on the bed for some reason, both opened and unopened. Some of it is old junk mail, I think, which has supposedly remained unopened for quite some time. I pick one larger envelope up and feel something hard inside that is thicker than paper would be. When I open it, I discover that it is a plaquette similar to the one in some ways that I have had from a very young age in Arcadia (and still have on the wall now; it had been left behind in the post office as unopened “junk mail” by a member of the “other’s” family). Instead of the tan/pale brown, though, it is pale blue. The motif is a bit different, the surface is smoother, and the message is different and somewhat shorter. Unfortunately, I do not remember exactly what it was, though it might have been “Count your blessings, not your sorrows”, I think - and at one point the plaquette is oriented perpendicular to the other one in that the message is longways (what you would call “landscape” as opposed to “portrait” in graphics terms). Still, it seems the finding is great - being very important, and seems like some sort of deep immersion into the Source, almost like finding a personal treasure that you had all along.

Near the end of my dream, which I will write before the middle of it, there is some sort of blog on the Internet that talks about different religions and “fabrications” - similar to the theme of fabricating dreams in some ways. (Although it was published on February 24, 2012, I had never seen it before, so this turned out to be precognitive for me relative to the usage of the word “zone” and some of its associations in the actual article - as well as my wife’s experience relating to someone being her friend only if she gave them snacks - and it included the picture of the exact same plaquette I found as a child, which I found intriguing but of the usual “precognitive energy” and familiar validation feelings I have experienced day to day since early childhood.)



In my dream there is also talk about the “Send Zone” as related to the Source (although the real-life blog was similar to the one in my dream, it was not exactly the same throughout - it was a bit more “generic” as well as slightly political regarding world affairs), which is implied to be like an egg-shaped (or teardrop-shaped) realm of bright blue light. I am trying to work out the liminal area or “threshold”, but it seems sort of ambiguous in concept - as if I am always “already there” - somewhat like trying to work out from a map how to get to a certain location when you already are in that location and there are no boundaries or individual aspects - hard to explain - or like holding “a glass of water” under the surface of a lake. It is difficult to relate because I feel such an understanding of “oneness” that there does not seem to be any sort of “division” (or separation of any kind) and it almost seems as futile as someone trying to find the “border” of where a light in a room slightly changes in midair - or, “everything inside the circle is the same as everything outside the circle”. The blog seems to represent some sort of confirmation. I feel quite “giddy” and blissful, filled with positive energy. Then again, I did do about six hours of intense imagery projection and affirmative meditation prior and reached a point of clarity that actually seemed stronger than at any prior time in my life.

The middle part of my dream was quite bizarre and went through several changes. Firstly, I seem to be in the front yard (northeast corner) of the King Street boarding house. There is some sort of very large three-tiered anthill which seems more like a man-made structure. It also seems like some sort of composite flower-petal-themed circular water fountain structure (without the water) and like a merry-go-round or carousel (but not turning). To my right is a bookcase-like structure (with three vertical divisions and at least four horizontal “shelves”) that the ants somehow created or utilized in a special way. There is one compartment where the ants are keeping their eggs. Another compartment holds at least six dead mice (of different random colors including white, brown, and black) lying mostly on their sides on top of each other and are being stored for food. At this point, the ants might have spider-like attributes, because I sense the mice were captured and stored by some sort of webbing. I notice a few ants come up from the ground and I somehow “pet” them without incident.

Then, I am suddenly aware that this place is actually “also” a large “mouse nest”. Several mice playfully come near me from the center of the “fountain” structure and I pet them as they scurry about. They are of several different colors including browns and grays. Some of them seem more tame than others. This is quite vivid and pleasing.

Later, the construct is now some sort of three-dimensional clothing catalog, primarily featuring beachwear and sunglasses and such. There are images of dark-haired girls (on three different tiers of this holographic “catalog” or supposed commercial display) in very unusual multicolored bikinis that seem to implement various complex tiki pole designs over the front of their body. For example, the top part (or bra) might represent the “eyes” of the tiki pole, with strings coming down and crisscrossing - with additional cloth forming a complex colorful “nose” and then the bikini bottom completing the “tiki pole” with the mouth area of the tiki shown or the hands going across or both in the print. This seems like an entirely new concept and a modern fashion statement and each design is quite different.

Finally, in the last part of the middle section, the construct changes into some sort of different store display, yet belongs to us - and we now seem to be at our present home. It seems almost like a giant three-tiered buffet display or cake stand, while still seeming like a water fountain or merry-go-round structure. There are several slight depressions in the “petal” structures (one in each “petal”) all around, that hold various items in each, most of which I find to be older View-Master reels, some in sets of three (most separated from the old-style packets) and some singular “demo” reels of the kind that used to come with the View-Master itself. I ask my youngest son if he had seen some of them, but he apparently has not. There seems to be something about not mixing them with the others until they have been ordered and viewed the first time.

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Morning of May 11, 2014. Sunday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I live in a huge mansion (with a false memory of having moved there just recently, but I am not sure if our move is complete yet) with so many rooms, it is probably difficult to count them all, especially as some have not been used for a long time. The house is very old and in disrepair and, I think, belongs to the owner of our present home (a recurring association).

I soon discover that I have a device that is like a wand or small rod. It has multiple functions that work depending on which one is needed the most at a particular time. This basic idea has been somewhat sparsely recurring over many years, but sometimes with different associations and workability.

In this case, the wand does several things, including removing any sort of patina, rust, cobweb, or dust, and also automatically repairs things (such as broken pipes or holes in plaster).

My dream is very long but mostly only involves directing the wand at the various fixtures and such in the rooms that need cleaning and repair. I am amazed at how dark rust and such is transformed into smooth shiny silvery metal. Cobwebs are dissolved from corners of tables and some things are automatically polished. Screws are tightened automatically and any nails that have partly come out or any wood that has been damaged is also restored to original condition.

Some of what I do is random, though, as a few rooms need far more work than others and I only do parts of the more difficult surfaces and areas, which I plan to do additional work on later. I move the wand about and make “stripes” of transformed silver in the deeply rusted pipes and such, with a similar effect as filling in an outline of a shape with a pen or pencil (recurring over many years) - yet I am not aware of any adjustment to make the “brush” (or range) wider (similar to a brush in a graphics program by association). I am enjoying my work, though. There is not any physical stress involved, though I do know it will take time and effort.

Morning of May 10, 2014. Saturday.



In this dream, my wife and I appear to be living at my sister Marilyn’s old house in Wisconsin. However, there is also a focus on another person who lives there, but I am not sure of his identity. It is possible he was a coworker relative to Three Rivers Enterprises/Eco Three and associated with 20 Copeland Avenue or Trane Company - it is in the back of my mind, but I cannot make the full connection now.

Over time, a few strange things related to vandalism occur. I also see that the lawn needs mowing. The house is oriented in an odd way, with what would be the back of the house facing west into the backyard in reality seemingly being the front part facing into the “backyard” in my dream. The mailbox is on my left when facing the house (from the “backyard”), and the space between houses is quite a bit larger, with more of a garden-like area mostly for fancy shrubs.

At one point, seemingly in early afternoon, there is a disturbance of some kind outside, but we are not sure of what had happened. I go out to check the mail and I notice that the metal mailbox is smashed and flattened, with the lid partly detached on one side. (This is based on a real event where a random younger male we did not know smashed our metal mailbox later at night and kicked it down the street as he was walking. The police were already arriving in the area by that point, as he had done something at a nearby house as well.) I also notice two business letters sort of hanging on the top of a shrub near the back of the mailbox, one envelope half out from the mailbox. I notice other minor damage around the outside of the house.

At this point, an insane man comes to the house and is apparently the one who had been vandalizing the place. I go inside to get a large steel barbel to use as a weapon. He is carrying a paper sack and it seems I supposedly owe him for something that he feels was done to him. I am not sure of the implications. It is a man I have not seen for over thirty years. His name was Ted and he was supposedly a recovering alcoholic when I knew him. He manages to push in through the front door as I and the other unknown male are attempting to hold it closed. I bash him with the large steel bar several times and seemingly kill him. The paper sack he had been carrying has two different plant species which may be narcotic, though this is not certain. One looks more like orange-and-green mottled Japanese maple leaves (that do supposedly resemble marijuana leaves) and the other a bit like fully white sand spur plants (full of white fuzzy “burs” or “spurs” as such down the stalk). Each plant type is partially in a transparent bag within the paper sack, but a lot of the maple leaves are loose in the sack. I decide to keep the sack to hide somewhere to avoid any problems or misplaced suspicion should others show up. In a different room, I put the sack up through a hole on the right side of the underside of the top sofa compartment that is over the wooden part that is used for storage. (This is actually just like my old sofa bed in Florida, but I did not stick anything in the area with the torn canvas on the underside.)

We then move his remains to the metal (old-style cylindrical) garbage bin in the middle of the “backyard” near the south end (again, which supposedly serves as the “front yard” in my dream). By that point, there seems to be an additional bag but I do not look in it, as that goes into the trash can as well. Looking down, Ted has turned into a smaller teddy bear with torn areas and some stuffing coming out. His “body”, lying on his back, does not even cover the whole area of the bottom of the can (that is, nether implied closer arc segment touches either his head or feet). It still seems a bit risky to have his supposed remains in the area.

Within a short time, a car full of people drives into the yard. There is at least one female of about twenty-something, an elderly lady, a couple children, and I think at least one teenage male. They are wondering where Ted is, I think, even though he had been running around acting crazy and vandalizing the area and seemed to have recently escaped from an institution, I suspect. My wife goes over to talk to the woman (putting her head into the car) and there is something about calling the police, but this is said by the younger female who had been driving the car, which seems strange since they are the ones trespassing. We realize that they may be non-human “were-stuffed-animals” as Ted was. They only become stuffed animals when sleeping or dead, perhaps, which is apparently their “true form”. Otherwise, they are psychotic people with some sort of genetic or chemical imbalance, perhaps even originating on another planet.

This will not do, so we all get steel bars and start bashing all the people in the car and jabbing them in the head and chest through the car windows. Over time, most of them become stuffed toy animals (both rabbits and bears, I think). However, a couple get away and somehow quickly construct a railroad through the middle of the backyard, going out through the east wall of the shed and then south and beyond. From there, lots of train cars, all together in a long row, start moving out southward. This seems to mean that the railcars are full of stuffed toys which will become crazed humans (but not actually human) and threaten the entire population. They are all very similar; rectangular, and each either orange or yellow in no particular sequence. We then start bashing the railcars to stop them with only partial success as my dream fades. They seem about half the size of a real train car, but are still fairly large to stop just by bashing them.

Morning of May 9, 2014. Friday.



In my dream, I am living in Cubitis with my wife (who has never been to America at this point). On the west wall of my old bedroom (where the three jalousie windows would otherwise be though now there is only one twelve-paned sash window in the middle - this being of a long-term precognitive change with no former knowledge) is a large but narrow shelf, about two feet across and about six feet up, almost as long as the room but stopping about two feet from the southwest corner. It is almost like the implied top of a bunk bed, I think.

There is no terror or distress as one might expect from the following sight (at least in the real word). There is a “five-foot spider” on the shelf, its legs hanging lazily over the edge of the shelf above our bed. It is black and “furry”. I am not even sure it is alive though, as it never moves the whole time. Perhaps it is even a large stuffed animal, as I do notice a small stuffed animal near the middle of the shelf which I think is a pale blue elephant with white triangles on its body. I am not sure what we will do. I visit the scene at least twice in at least one dream “reset”.

As spiders often represent the human hand in dreams (visually), this may relate to negative associations with typing my dreams from this time period with a much larger focus than when younger as well as placing them “on the web”, though because the giant spider is on my shelf, it may be associated with the vast dream journal material I have not yet posted and implying I am putting a lot of manual work in it all.

Morning of May 8, 2014. Thursday.



Firstly, in the open expanse of sky, I am aware of a small “guard booth”, similar to the building in “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” (1968) where Lionel Jeffries sings “Posh!” (though that is actually a fancy outhouse, not a guard booth). Nothing else exists but blue sky and the hovering guard booth, which has no side windows by the way, but with the front and back entirely open. However, it is not Lionel Jeffries, but a young go-go dancer, a version of my wife seemingly “between two worlds” (or within a partial dream world just now being rendered, as if the booth was “designing” or “completing” the final stages of the go-go persona and look). This is because it seems like an isolated foyer as well as a sort of “gate” (vaguely reminiscent of an arc trellis, I think). I attempt contact, but the contact seems “filtered” somehow as if there is another world beyond which is on the “other side” and a bit on this side within this “portal” of sorts. (I am certain there is a play here, but it is mostly just because of doubled words, “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang”, “Posh Posh” and “go-go”.)

Because of this, I looked up “posh” in the online dictionary and one of the first things I saw was “So in Punch for September 25, 1918, do we find the first recorded instance posh, meaning ‘smart and fashionable’.”

The name “Punch” curiously brought back a prior section of the dream sequence that was a bit unusual. It was a Punch and Judy puppet show in a large park in possibly late morning. To the right, there is some sort of ladder-like structure going out from the front of the puppet stage that does not seem to be an intended part of the show. At times, though, I am reminded of a railroad track. I am weirdly “waiting” for the puppets to “notice” this (as if they were human). This ambiguous switching between ladder and railroad track has occurred at other points in my life - I think it relates to rate of dream vividness/cohesion or something (based on whether the “H” is horizontal or vertical - vertical meaning that you might be becoming more lucid or waking up). Both represent the letter “H”, though, which is also coincidentally the first and last letter of my wife’s maiden name. As a ladder, there is a brief idea that another puppet will “escape” by climbing down it, but then I remember that hand puppets do not have legs.

image

Eventually, the two hand puppets take notice of the “ladder/railroad track”, now moving slightly “snake-like” as if it had been meant to be a part of their routine. However, it seems to be a “mistake” in the show whereby a real train is opposite the puppet stage (the vibrations thereby causing the intentionally unseen prop to slide out of a container behind the puppet stage curtain and into view like some sort of ironic or comical foreshadowing) and heading towards the audience. Judy waves her hand to somehow acknowledge to the audience about what almost seems like a scheduled event or some such (as if the audience is going to “get clobbered” by being hit by the oncoming train). There does not seem to be a fearful awareness in the audience yet, creating the impression that it is an illusion perhaps, though this is not certain. The puppets seem “puzzled” about the audience not getting up to leave or perhaps run away…fade to black.

There has also been a very clear and ongoing recurring aspect of hypnagogia and beginning dream sequences over the last few months, which involves very intricate black wrought iron gates, which stand out more than anything else. This particular one had a heart symbol in the middle of the top section and was quite complex in the various thinner partial spirals and twists in the design. This one looks like a composite of Fertöd-château and one that appears to be in Salem (but with the heart outline being larger). At one point, the gate opens and the “landscape” behind it shifts into a beautiful fractal design that is primarily blue and circular, with an orange “border”. It is beautiful and like looking into deep space with no sense of being ungrounded in any way.

Morning of May 7, 2014. Wednesday.

Dream #: 17,306-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



I was at a funeral at the La Crosse Civil War Memorial (Campbell Cemetery) in winter during blasts of wind and snow. Two others in black 1940s formal apparel are near me. (They may be older versions of Zsuzsanna and me.) We are standing on the wayside, opposite the railroad tracks, not the woods where the funeral was. (I do not think of the unlikelihood of public graves between trees.)

There are two cars parked along the road, the one that crashed in “Fear No Evil” (1969 TV movie) and my red 1922 Lincoln Phaeton (recurring dream car only).

The old couple faces the woods as the wind blows snow across their backs. They do not move even after being covered in a light layer of snow. Another man approaches from our right. He acknowledges me but ignores the other two. He wants me to drive him somewhere, but not in either of the vehicles present.

I become liminally aware I am dreaming without recall of what a dream is, only that my thoughts shape my world. I summon the red 1958 Plymouth Fury from “Christine” (1983 movie). The other man is happy with the car and our forthcoming road trip.

I drive fast (not recklessly) over backroads in hilly areas. The car ends up on the carport of the Cubitis house. (I would have had to drive from Wisconsin to Florida in less than fifteen minutes). I am parked facing the orange grove, perpendicular to the driveway (which would be problematic as it would block both entrances to the front of the house).

I am unsure where the man (preconscious simulacrum) is. I may have dropped him off somewhere. Looking down, I see a toad to the right of my right foot. It is about half the size of a cane toad. I pick it up and throw it out the window to my left. I consider that other toads may be in the car, but I do not worry about it and looking around, I see no evidence of others. At this point, my dream loses cohesion.

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Notes:

The toad in the car may have been an association with “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” from “The Wind in the Willows” (both the book and the Disney attractions). It is similar, in some illustrations, to the car from “Fear No Evil”.

My dream begins with the presence of sleep simulacrums (the old couple that becomes lightly covered with snow), the association with a cemetery as analogous to sleeping and being separated from waking life and my identity.

The unknown man is this dream’s vestibular system simulacrum (a personification of the preconscious) as we ride in the car, which is an imaginary extension of my physical body while in the dream state. His original approach from my right stems from the waking process as I sleep on my left side with my right more exposed to my environment.

A carport is a rendering of liminal space (the ambiguous awareness between dreaming and waking).

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Morning of May 5, 2014. Monday.



My computer (the older one in the front room) does its thing of crashing and shutting down after being on for about a minute until a few attempts at restart by either dropping it sideways a few times or wiggling the CPU and partly broken fan around a bit and adjusting the fishing line reel succeeds in it working correctly again. Still, as is sometimes the case, the “recovery” window comes on, but it is not quite correct. I am used to incorrect random “error” windows, blue screens, multicolored mosaic random messes, and DOS screens of plain text (resulting from the fact that the CPU is malfunctioning until cooled down a bit more), but this one is eerily familiar. It reports (in a rather atypical font) “Your computer has recovered from an occurrence…”

Next, it happens again. The computer is so screwed up that the blue screen strings are longer and part of one hexadecimal value “carries over” onto the side of the vase-like black desk lamp fairly close to the right side of the monitor. It is getting pretty bad when a computer error message expands out onto the surface of another electrical item (a different one altogether), but it seems perfectly normal. Another attempt or two and the “Your computer has recovered from an occurrence…” window displays again.

Where have I heard that before? The desktop is full of identical icons. They are all of slightly painting-like owls, body a quarter turn to my right and head turned facing out towards the viewer. Only one desktop icon is different and it is of a painting-like well on the lower right corner; the “old-fashioned” kind with a rope and bucket and even a little roof. Then it dawns on me that something funny is going on. I must have the “Owl Creek Bridge” virus (which I do not think is a real one). Thus I realize that my computer has “suffered” from “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge”. The “wishing well” icon must be clicked on to get rid of it. Terrific… However, I leave it as is for a bit…and decide to see what other people had experienced with it.

I visit a forum where someone says that the “payload” of the virus is waking you up from your dream - which does not make sense. Another says that the “payload” is making your computer disintegrate, whereby someone argues that it “disintegrated” because it was a dream and did not exist in the first place, but the other person posts a pile of ashes saying that is what is left of his laptop. The argument seems to continue for several pages and seems to go into a tirade about who is controlling the missile launches.

I then make the decision to click on an owl and see what happens. There is the odd electronic clacking of the computer-simulated “mouse click” sound and my head jerks back. I wake up with my wife touching my lower face, some sort of odd partial reversal of the actual “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” movie. (“waking me up from my dream”).

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Ever since earliest childhood, I had wondered how in the world dreams sometimes seem to amusingly and very “cleverly” build up to a not-yet-unfolded event or sound and have plots or themes that come way before a “concluding” real-life environmental event. That is probably one of the most unusual paranormal-like aspect of dreams (for example, I once dreamed of seeing myself, or a “copy” of myself, holding a broomstick near an overturned washtub and ready to hit it like some sort of odd musical task. After a fairly short time when I had fully “absorbed” the imagery and was already aware of it, I heard a sound in real life on the carport that sounded just like a wooden object hitting metal - my mother confirmed that was the only instance of the sound that woke me up). Not all dreams work like this of course, as some are “caught by surprise” in the middle of a dream, but many are not, too many to be coincidental as such, and too correct in the continuing detail to be chance. It is an odd type of precognition I suppose, of the several different types. Many people would claim the sound caused the dream, which is of course, a ridiculous cop-out. How can a dream come before the sound that supposedly caused it (although, obviously, this does happen at times in other cases)?

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Morning of May 4, 2014. Sunday.



We end up with a baby bird that had fallen out of a nest in a nearby area of the yard of the house we live in presently. I think it is a wild finch. It is very small and cannot quite walk properly (and it seems injured at first, though turns out not to be - just being a bit weak). I have a large container with no top that is somewhat like a semitransparent plastic storage box, but which is about two-thirds the size of the top of my computer desk. The bottom of the container has about a one-inch (or more) layer of dirt.

Over time, the bird begins to move a little more. For some reason, we decide the best thing to feed it to ensure its survival are very tiny pieces of rubber cut from a bicycle inner tube, as if that makes perfect sense. It also seems to be all we have regarding “bird food”. It seems to be “happy” about getting the tiny inner tube pieces and eats all that I give it.

A little later, I decide that crackers will probably be better, though I am thinking about all the preservatives and wondering if they will be harmful to birds in general, yet somehow, it eventually seems okay, and does seem a better option than the rubber bits (and less troublesome and time-consuming to provide) - so I break up a few crackers into fine crumbs (to my left relative to the container) and it enthusiastically feeds.

Finally, I crunch up a stack of Pringles potato chips and scatter them in a larger area to the right. However, there are still a lot of nearly whole pieces that go into the makeshift terrarium and the baby bird looks a bit bigger and more developed, even moving its recently feathered wings about as it hops a bit more energetically. (For some reason, its wings look like they are on “backwards” but I think this may be only because of the downy feathers curled back.) It is able to bite into the potato chips and easily feed without any help from me, reminding me of a person holding up and taking a bite out of a large sandwich. I figure about half a cylinder of the chips will keep him going for at least a day or two. It goes under a chip and out again, seeming to enjoy its access to its food and it is becoming stronger, reminding me a little of a guinea pig moving about in a large, cage-sized cluster of grass and getting “happily lost” in it.

For a time, I worry about leaving it, because I am concerned it will get trapped under some sections of scattered clusters of the more complete chips, but the scene does not seem that problematic for it. It goes under a whole chip and does not come out for a time and that seems my cue to wake as it seems to no longer exist at that point.

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Morning of May 1, 2014. Thursday.



I have a couple large game sections (possibly incomplete at the time) that feature a three-walled area open on one side where a griffin moves while standing mostly in one place, facing the open side. I believe the feet are connected to some sort of mechanism through a slit in the “floor” of the compartment. Perhaps the goal is to put the two griffins face-to-face with the platforms linked together to “fight” in a sort of game similar to the classic “Rockem Sockem Robots” game. This is not certain, though - but the griffins do seem to have the same two colors (as the robots) dominating but more integrated into their overall multicolored form. It actually seems a bit more complex than that, involving an additional quest or higher goal, perhaps even from an RPG, with the possible griffin fight being only one aspect of it. I mostly have the box and the game parts in an area of the kitchen (Stadcor Street - we seem to be living back in Brisbane).

At any rate, parts of the game mechanism get separated from the rest. This is because a section of the game seems to be outside for a time, taken out by one of our young sons perhaps. The pieces that get separated are like two different important rubber pieces that need to be in the mechanism or the game will not work at all. One is just like a belt from an older cassette deck, another like the very small rubber “hoop” (not the flat washer but circumferential cylindrical) used in some faucet setups.

The side of the street is quite different than in reality. Instead of the curb going directly out to the street, there is a very deep one-foot across recess (along the entire street) between the curb and the street (somewhat like a deep rain gutter for a roof) that is full of branches (a few which stick out a fair distance), leaves, and various organic and inorganic debris. Our youngest son goes after the small rubber hoop when it rolls across the street somehow, but ends up with the cassette-deck-belt-like part instead when I did not even know it had gotten to the other side of the street. It seems some of the other parts may also have been lost deep down in the recess, which may be about four feet deep or so. I do retrieve one part and see another part a bit too far down (and blocked by narrow crisscrossing dead branches) to easily get to. There are also similar pieces in the area, much like the game parts but more worn or broken, like tiny “tires” (perhaps from old Matchbox Cars) and broken bits of sinew (the type for crafts).

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What does it mean to dream of a griffin? At the core level, a griffin is a flight symbol. A flight symbol is rendered in a dream in subliminal anticipation of the hypnopompic waking start. Additionally, a griffin is a mix of unrelated animals, which is likely to be a unique precursor factor of the coalescence of the preconscious and emergent consciousness.

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Some of my other dreams that feature griffins (links): (1) Griffin vs. Grandfather Clock, (2) R Brand, (3) Making a Griffin?, (4) The Temple and the Tomb

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Morning of April 30, 2014. Wednesday.



I am back at the main library in La Crosse, though it seems a bit bigger than in reality. I find a table to sit at, at the southwestern corner. An unknown girl (high school or college), in blue jeans and a white top, on my left, says “hi” in a friendly manner and goes back to reading an orange hardcover book on chemistry, which has an embossed image of a water molecule on the cover but for some reason seems to have “familiar” circus poster motifs as well (such as the band of two-color alternating triangles) - yet it seems quite right in design and context somehow. The table (and perhaps the area itself) has a strange “ancient” atmosphere, like very old Sequoia trees in the back of my mind, or some such. The wood seems to have some sort of “electrical field” or “magic” of some kind, which seems to make a barely visible “aura” about it similar to the atmosphere of the planet. The girl seems to have read my mind and asks me what “Sequoia” means, which causes me to ponder if she is telepathic. I tell her that although some people claim it means “bird”, it actually means “pig in a pen”. She smiles and says, “Oh, I thought it meant pig with a pen”. I then am trying to work out if she is being obnoxious somehow, relating to the creator of the Cherokee alphabet, but do not respond, as she seems passive and cheerful (and nonthreatening).

I end up looking farther back behind my left shoulder and see a very large black book called “10,000 Great Dreams” which strongly reminds me of the ridiculous fiasco in real life called “10,000 Dreams Interpreted” by Gustavus (which I used to read in real life as a boy and it was so absurd, pointless, and wrong for the most part, I laughed until I felt giddy). I pick up the book and take it over to the desk. Then I notice that it is not actually a regular book, but a large black and white harlequin mask with the pages behind the mask. The eyes seem to be emeralds at first, but then I notice they are just green jelly, which fall out in a couple small piles on the table. I note some strange simple “sayings” on each page, none of which make any real sense. I read several, but can only remember one clearly. It says, “You must open your doors to look out your windows”, and then something about cheddar cheese being the “root of all evil” (this may date back to the 1980s where I saw a piece of Swiss-cheese-like blackness with the diagonally rendered top and bottom of the slice representing a “demon” - I think it, that is, this new dream aspect, may also be related to an episode of the “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” television series in the late 1990s or so where a man kept appearing in her dream with a slice of cheese and annoying her).

Also come the wise words: “Hands are the feet of your arms.”

Most of the “dreams” read like very short and boring mundane newspaper articles from a mainstream newspaper and with no diverse layers of insights or obscure (but meaningful) renderings as is common with dreams. Nothing visionary appears anywhere, either. Instead, a lot of it seems to have half-finished naïve political speeches or just one sentence at times. Only one, I remember enough to summarize it; it said something like “I was walking down the sidewalk and a girl on roller skates stole my wallet and I chased her and called her a b—- and threw rocks at everyone." I look over and notice that the aforementioned girl is wearing roller skates and her blue jeans have somehow transformed into white shorts but that does not seem to bother me. The "book cover” (mask) also has a red ribbon that seems to be connected as a silk “bookmark”. I pull on it, as it seems to be stuck between two pages near the back and realize the girl is “complaining” (moaning as if annoyed, rather) and it turns out to be a ribbon from her hair, which she retrieves. (I seem to firstly have been pulling her head down and over a bit via the apparently very long “bookmark” aka ribbon from that distance, but this is not the case at all; it just seems to have an odd physical effect, like some sort of “magnet” that makes her head move.) She soon does not mind, though, and in fact laughs about it and throws it back to me when I give it to her and we play a game of catch for about five or six rounds.

An elderly librarian taps me painfully on the shoulder from my right and points to a sign that says “No garter tossing in the library” and then makes a typical “shhh!” gesture, and I feel embarrassed.

Looking down, I notice that the mask has turned into a real flayed human face (in two vertical sections), which really makes me think if I should leave. The same librarian taps me again and points to another sign that reads in uppercase - “No defacing books in the library”. I realize that people may think that I am Ed Gein because of this, so I get up to leave and as I do, I notice that much of the material in the back of the “book” actually looks like a gossip column from a tabloid instead of relating to dreams. I can hear the librarian talking loudly to the authorities, many of them being fireman for some reason. “He was in there, throwing garters around, and suddenly tore off his face to make an artistic statement, just like Vincent Van Gogh!" The firemen then do a Keystone Cops routine around the library even though I am standing in plane sight.

The girl taps me on the shoulder and whispers "you saved us all”. I notice that the harlequin mask/real face/book cover is actually two messy (and melting?) pieces of the creature from the movie “Mimic” (1997) which looks like a human face, but which is meant to fool people before they are eaten. It looks more and more like a pile of melted cheese such as on a pizza.

The police come in and arrest the librarian for keeping a “fake” book in the library that was “written by a cockroach” (although in the movie, the creature is supposedly more like a cross between a termite and a praying mantis - though does look a lot like a giant cockroach in some scenes). Everyone is marched out of the library in an orderly fashion so that the library can be “fumigated” in case there are any more such books.