Blue_Opossum

Night of October 17, 2012. Wednesday.



This first shorter dream, which is a lengthened and distorted version of the otherwise typical natural falling mechanism as the waking transition precedes my next longer one where I am more of a direct character in my dream rather than just a passive witness as in this one.



In which I transfer the “I am falling” natural waking phase to an expanded “he is falling” scenario.

My first dream here relates to an unknown male of perhaps around thirty years of age and who firstly seems to have committed suicide by jumping off a cliff. However, there are at least three scenes in a row (seemingly not dream resets or replays), seemingly at night, where he has to try a couple more times and then I think he gives up. Instead of going around and up the path, which is logical and convenient, he climbs straight back up the side. He is wearing some sort of motorcycle uniform meant for stunts, I think, like Evel Knievel; white with a black stripe down each shoulder, and wearing some sort of odd matching helmet, though which is quite angular. I am not sure who he is. I get the impression of his being a soldier at one point in the past. The night sky is an unusual dark blue and different from how the sky would look in reality. I am not sure, but it seems that it may be Grandad Bluff in La Crosse as it does look much like it.

In which I seek to use my conscious self’s higher thinking skills in the dream state but the bookstore (conscious mind) is closed (and non-lucid). I then seek to simply watch my dream subjectively (movie theater, to watch a movie of a journey over the ocean of the unconscious; a “Titanic” sequel) but it too soon decays to become an essence of a memory (warehouse). A memory of my youth begins the waking phase, an amorphous shape from the unconscious (ocean depths), yet also sharp somehow, trying to get its point across perhaps.

Next is a fairly long dream that seems to reset at least three times. My wife and I are going to Nundah (Queensland, Australia), though at one point it seems I am the only one going there, seemingly to the bookstore. It does not make much sense, as the bookstore is not open late at night. The area is quite different and somewhat like La Crosse in America. I get the impression of wanting to get certain paperback novels, but there are strange resets to where we are then going to a movie very late at night though at one point I “remember” it is a holiday and no stores are open except maybe for the theater. The movie theater is a bit odd and does not seem to have proper seats. An unknown unfamiliar boy has brought his pet to that part of town. It is a large creature that is somewhat like a cross between a jellyfish and a porcupine yet is also blob-like at times (seemingly able to get smaller or larger by quite a significant difference) which may be based on a reaction of the environment or the emotions of people in the immediate environment. Soon, I do not feel like watching a movie anymore (and I cannot even remember what it was though I think it was some sort of sequel to “Titanic”). I end up going home and then wonder if my wife is somehow back at the theater, then I realize she never left our house in the first place. The boy and his weird pet apparently were the only ones in the building, which is not actually a movie theater after all but more like a warehouse.

Morning of October 15, 2012. Monday.



In my dream, I am lying in our bed and I am concerned about the garbage truck being too close to our house as well as being perpendicular to the street itself. At one point, it seems backed up almost to our bedroom window. The scenario repeats several times in a row. I look out and see that the robotic arm is much longer than in reality and somehow towers very high into the air (emergent consciousness rendering). It appears to be holding a larger commercial bin (which looks a lot smaller due to its supposed distance from my perspective). It is almost dizzying to consider such a high position. Nothing threatening happens (such as our house or window being damaged or the larger pieces of rubbish falling out near our house, as it almost seems might happen) but I continue to have a vague concern without being directly angry.

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Anyone who understands the basic meanings of dreams (excluding personal associations with unique details and features which only the dreamer could possibly understand) will easily pick out the waking transition here. “Something coming down” (representing the waking process) in this case is the robotic arm of the garbage truck (robotic as a dream sign that renders the “artificial” perspective of the dream state) as well as implied falling debris. As most people would know, garbage or junk in a dream represents “unwanted data”, that is, ideas or thoughts that have proven to be without real long-term use (including other people’s negative ideas).

Even though this is a very basic waking transition, it is quite different than other types, say one that utilize an airplane landing, a meteor falling, or a bird landing, all with the same primary meaning but with different implications. This dream was likely a “repeat” (in metaphor) of reading more than my share of garbage on this date. The garbage truck itself represents the linear “cleanup” of recent thinking processes. Something being “too close” to one’s house relates to the liminal energies regarding circadian rhythms and full waking. Of course, being in bed in the dream state is the most obvious dream sign of all and the most obvious metaphor for sleeping and dreaming (yet I do not become lucid).

Morning of December 25, 2011. Sunday.



Zsuzsanna and I have a large vineyard that starts from about the middle of our backyard at our present address on W Street. The rows are oriented north to south and there are at least seven of them.

In the distance, to the east, I see the tower Big Ben. However, I erroneously associate it with being in Manhattan (even though it is in the UK in reality and I otherwise correctly perceive myself as being in Australia). There is also some sort of ambiguity where I also associate it with the Empire State Building.

More to the south, beyond where the apartments would be in real life (as our backyard is otherwise much longer to the south), are ancient ruins. I casually (without incident) explore them for a short time prior to slowly waking.

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I associate Big Ben with puzzles, as my older sister Marilyn collected Big Ben jigsaw puzzles. (This reflects the dream self as being puzzled about the level of unconsciousness in being between dreaming and waking, though subliminally). However, a clock tower is also an emergent consciousness factor linked to a subliminal focus on what time it is getting to be while still sleeping (loosely associated with a real alarm clock that wakes a dreamer up in the morning). Big Ben appeared in a dream of December 20, 2010, so there is a loose marker here, though in that dream, I related the possibility of mortality, as it occurred on my 50th birthday.

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Morning of September 3, 2011. Saturday.



This dream situation and skewed perspective has been a very sparsely recurring scene, going as far back as age five (when first documented on Rose Street), though in this particular case, it was inspired more by a computer game than a toy racing track as such in the past. In most versions of this recurring concept, there is some degree of confusion in in-dream perspective (usually disembodied) over what is horizontal and what is vertical, even more so in this dream, probably due to the perspective of the computer game influence in being an “overhead view” yet viewed as vertical on the computer monitor.

Regardless of the number of movies and television shows I have seen with overhead views seen on the vertical, this skewed perspective is not as common in (at least my own) dreams as I would expect, though I do strongly believe that a lot of screwed-up aspects of dreams have been caused by watching imagery on a television or movie screen (though again, not as much as one would expect - for example, the size orientation of even human heads when viewed on television or especially on a movie screen does not cause as many dreams about giants or tiny people as one would expect or even as much distorted perspectives as would seem reasonable otherwise - although I did notice a major change in my dreams since watching television when younger - including zooming in or zooming out, sudden location shifts becoming more common, unexpected panning, and so on).

In this version of my dream, I am closely watching miniature cars (about half the size of a Matchbox Car) driving over the surface of the kitchen table (though back at Gellibrand Street it seems, though the setting does not seem consistent), over what looks like a set of about four miniature highways (which take up about two-thirds of the area of the tabletop). I am sometimes aware of small buildings, but they are not three-dimensional and look painted-on (and even the cars look “flat” at times). I seem to be floating around in my dream’s environment, disembodied. As is typical of this dream type, the top of the table seems to shift to where I am additionally watching a (fictional) plane that is vertical and by which the cars apparently drive up and down perpendicularly to the tabletop and somehow flip over at ninety degrees to keep driving without apparent incident. I am also aware of “real” items on our table at some points, mostly salt and pepper shakers (which we actually do not even have on the table in reality). I am also very vaguely aware of this being a part of a computer game, but it is not as defined an awareness that would otherwise trigger my lucidity. I do not experience disorientation, just an uncertainty at times of what the angle and placement is of what I am viewing; that is, whether I am looking down at a horizontal plane, or before me at a vertical plane. This has really not been all that common a viewpoint in my dreams. Also, the highway remains a highway, unlike railroad tracks in such a scenario that then sometimes become a ladder when rendered vertically.

Morning of February 22, 2011. Tuesday.



I am shaving in what seems to be an unusual manner relative to location and distance from the bathroom(?) mirror. (It may actually be a mirror just outside our bathroom, although our house seems unfamiliar, but is like a composite of a few houses I have lived in with some features being of our present home.) There are several short periods of contemplation - through which seem like about twenty minutes total - when my face becomes a bright, shiny silver plate all around. During these times, I have various thoughts. These thoughts include ideas about not needing to shave over smooth silver. I also have trouble focusing my eyes to shave at times, because my face is so bright, as it distorts and reflects so that I can not see where I am shaving. My entire face is of a solid, polished silver “skin” that augments any light in the area exponentially. My eyes are there, but as outlined shadows of a lesser brightness against the “mask” of my “real” (in my dream) skin.

It would seem to be a transient condition that may be related to either reflected light or mood or even the time of day. Later, I seem to be back in my old apartment and shaving there as well, but my facial skin is bleeding everywhere. Over time, I start to worry that I have lost too much blood to live, although there is not that much bleeding from particular areas during a shorter time. There are only a few extremely thick and hard hairs left along the sides of my face, reminding me of tree stumps.

Again, there are times when my face is a silver, polished plate, with shadowy outlined eyes only - no discernible nose or mouth. I am vaguely worried I may die (during times when my face is otherwise normal), but nothing dramatic happens.

A connected dream, in which my face is also sometimes the silver glowing “mask” of “real” skin, involves three new daughters. Oddly, they seem less than nine months apart, the oldest being perhaps a year and a half or two years old at the most and the youngest maybe six months old or older. I am not sure of the ages, but I still question if this closeness of ages would be possible. It is also possible that the youngest is newly born. The oldest is named Rowena. The middle one (by age) is Tillie. (The name “Tillie” might have come from a comic book character I was familiar with for a time - “Tillie the Toiler”.) I am not sure of the name of the youngest; it seems we may have not given her a name yet.

The middle one (by age and on the northernmost end - the oldest, Rowena, resting to the southern-most side of the room, the youngest in the middle) keeps trying to stand, but falls over and bumps her head several times (but is not injured in anyway, although I have concern). They are all on the floor on a large blue mat. I am sitting on a (white?) sofa on the east side of the room.

Later, I am aware of our real-life children, but their ages do not reflect the time differences of my dream relative to the “newer additions”. My youngest son had not aged the two years or so my dream would require to be consistent.

We did have another daughter later on, but the name “Rowena” was not used as planned. Instead, we used the name I was “given” in a clearer-than-usual seemingly external “pulsing” event on November 22nd, 2012. It seemed to be some sort of communication of energy from the actual unborn child (in “wanting” and “saying” the name), but also seemed “rerouted” to some extent - it also seemed to simultaneously be in my own “voice” as if in reaction to something. It was also found to have happened at the same time a younger girl with that name died from a fall in the region (with the usual life-long “clustered” associations). It was on the 22nd of the 11th month. It was a 22-storey fall. Her last name was very similar to the brand of lantern (light-giving) my family used when I was young, and part of the area’s name was “Paradise”. I also saw the name several times after in different synchronous events seeming to validate our naming decision several times over.

Morning of December 20, 2010. Monday.



I am with my lovely wife Zsuzsanna. There is anticipation of intimacy but we are first to travel elsewhere by flight. We are in a blue biplane, though it is in a hangar and I illogically do not fully consider the need to leave the hangar before flying our airplane. (This lack of reasoning of which relates to liminal space ambiguity in REM has occurred in many other dreams.)

Zsuzsanna is wearing a beautiful cyan gown. Looking closely, I see denser bird silhouettes in the otherwise lacy sparse material in a flying form in what seems to be fairly small embroidered patterns. She is on my right (an atypical orientation, as she always sleeps on my left, though that may be because she is awake at the time).

The dials in the biplane seem to be more like clocks than altimeters or other cockpit-relevant displays. It looks like one says “12:20” (in an analogue clock display, not digital), which is today’s date (and also my birthday).

To my immediate left, some sort of vertical pipe that connects the wings seems to have a leak where some water is flowing out. I try to stop the leak with a piece of what seems to be part of a pillowcase or bed sheet.

I notice one of Zsuzsanna’s shoes off to the right on the floor.

The pipe that connects the wings of the biplane on my left side seems somewhat detached and I wobble it around a bit, somewhat puzzled. I am not sure if the airplane is ready to take off and fly even though I start to hear a humming sound, though I soon wake.

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Morning of December 20, 2010. Monday.



Feeling relaxed, as I step through green grass of about knee length (apparently being barefoot and wearing shorts as I can feel the velvety grass against my legs and feet), into an area closer to the shore of a pristine lake, I feel very peaceful. There is no one else present. It seems to be late morning or afternoon.

Eventually, evening seems to be approaching. I am not surprised (at least at first) when I turn my head to my right and see the tower Big Ben. I even consider that it may be a feature of the building I live in (though without a thread of memory of what country I live in). However, I do start to become puzzled by the nature of time and how it seemed to be afternoon only a short time ago. Still, I do not have any negative thoughts or worries. I continue to sit by the shore of the lake, feeling content.

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My dream self does not seem aware of it being my 50th birthday. The clock tower as an emergent consciousness symbol is rendered via circadian rhythms factors (and the later stages of the sleep cycle) but additionally in this case, may also represent mortality. It is also qualified as being this dream’s waking space prompt and is additionally associated with the puzzle of being between dreaming and waking. This is because my older sister Marilyn often bought Milton Bradley Big Ben jigsaw puzzles. The lake symbolizes being in a specific stage of the sleep cycle, while the clock mainly represents the waking precursor.

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Morning of September 29, 2010. Wednesday.



It seems I may be in La Crosse living with my wife and children but I am not sure as it may be somewhere in Australia. Seemingly to the east of a road we are walking on northward is a “giant” birdhouse. By that, I mean it is on some sort of cylindrical platform and higher up from the ground (though really only about the distance up of some of the houses I have seen here with longer stumps, implying enough room to walk underneath if there was enough open space otherwise) as well as looking much like a typical birdhouse, but a bit fancier in some areas. The doorway (and there does not seem to be a closeable door, which causes a thought about security or potential intruders) is even circular and much like that of a birdhouse and one needs to climb a seemingly unstable ladder to get up and inside it.

An unknown young girl (perhaps a relative of my wife’s) lives there though we do not see her much. I believe there is a need to visit her but we cannot quite work out how to get in. This is similar in mood and theme to another dream where we lived in a house where the front door had to be reached by climbing a narrow ladder (though this concept is sparsely recurring). I think there was something about her giving my wife jewelry or something but the details are rather odd and distorted with several “resets”.

Morning of June 6, 2010. Sunday.

Dream #: 15,875-07. Reading time: 20 sec.



I am in the lounge room of our present home in the evening. I am aware a stranger is in our house and had been in our kitchen and opened our refrigerator. When I am in bed, I notice Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) had fallen asleep on our couch, holding a teddy bear. I am annoyed by the imposition. (The couch is in the wrong orientation. It faces south instead of north.) I consider it may be someone pretending to be Mr. Bean (though I remain uncertain).

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Morning of April 3, 2010. Saturday.



This has been recurring to some extent for years, so I might as well include a partial scene of it.

I am seemingly on the highest floor of a tall apartment building, though it could be a fancy hotel as I do not think I live there permanently (though if I am in transit, I am not sure of the “before” and “after” locations, either). Looking out from the window, it is higher than all other buildings by several floors. I am not sure of the location or even the country. It is later at night, perhaps near eleven o'clock and there is a strong and steady rain but only mild thunder and lightning. At times, it almost seems like the building is part of a different (higher) dimension, but unlikely, as if it were it would look completely different and not be discernible as a building unless its higher construct was some sort of enigmatic implied 4D hyper-polyhedron that looked like a building from one point of 3D view (or rather the inside of one) - a better term would be an alternate three-dimensional structure in a parallel world, with the window being the portal, I suppose.

There is an enhanced sense of intimacy, of lovemaking (symbolic). This is of a different nature and at far more than one level. I move to the window (which has no screen), being half in the room and half outside. I sit on the window sill after rigging a makeshift seat along one side with a larger pillow folded somewhat L-shaped (because it is a sliding window and the base with the runners would be a bit uncomfortable to straddle directly), my left side evenly staying in the semi-lit warm room and my right side exposed to the cool outside, but the heavier rain is partially tamed by the (unseen) features of the building, it seems - whatever rain drops reach me are like cold forces of physical bliss - almost bordering on “unbearably sweet”. Outside the window is some sort of balcony - with a solid barrier about waist-high, ahead from where I am facing, the balcony has normal access from a door to outside.

I still get a very light awareness of being between worlds or taking “my world” into the exotic and beautiful construct of another, though technically I am not certain if all of this world is as one domain. Still, it seems more intimate and body-wide than an actual act of lovemaking - sort of as an act of joining one physical world to another with my body and overall presence as the “bridge”, due to the whole body being involved in a half and half experience of different sensual cues. I suppose it is hard to describe and I even sway side to side very slightly. This awareness seems to come and go in a strange way, between absentminded ecstasy and a puzzlement as to my present position and what my next event will be or need to be. I deliberately try to be perfectly half and half, although my legs are in different positions each side - no effect on my head in a physical sense other than a slight tingling on one side that does not grow in intensity. I do not really want to leave. I want to be here always and I want the cold hard rain to evenly fall always. Always night and always a semi-lit room to my left. This seems to be some sort of Yin and Yang state where I am both at the same time.

I am reminded of an unusual “trick” where you have your hand and upper arm in cold water on one side and hot water for the other hand, and then switch hands after a time - it is a very strange experience as if the mind cannot deal with the changeover.

Morning of January 5, 2010. Tuesday.



I am in an unknown location. It may be that my wife and family are living in La Crosse in my dream. The dream environment is outside at all times. The area is more open, not like a residential area; perhaps in or near a park, although there are buildings (both residential and commercial) here and there, sparsely arranged.

Most of the events occur at night and with a very eerie perspective. Large meteors are falling to Earth, though they are more like perfectly spherical fireballs the size of a beach ball. When they hit the ground, they sort of bounce and roll for quite a distance. Sometimes I am uncertain where they will be rolling and the idea of dodging them seems a bit problematic, although they never come that close.

It is not quite an “end of the world” scenario, but there is still a sense of potential disaster. There is a very vague association that the fireballs may have, or be connected to, some sort of primitive intelligence.

This may be a cellular dream relating to a possible in-body awareness of viral agents. Dreams similar to this in the past sometimes ended with a presence of snow or ice, which may represent white blood cells eliminating the viral threat or “fever”. It is also possibly related to the hotter weather during sleep.

Morning of December 25, 2009. Friday.



I am in the backyard of our present address. Although there is not that much of a focus on this morning being Christmas (especially as my dream self is only rarely aware of what year it is, let alone the date), I see Christmas ornaments protruding about a quarter up from where there is only dirt in the far backyard. Most of them are spherical and of one color, though I find more detailed ones when I dig more. I consider that it is an unusual place to store ornaments as such, as they will require cleaning each year.

Eventually, I also start to discover and uncover a few gold and silver coins as I dig (though remaining uncertain of the value or country of origin), some of which have a few holes in them, as if eroded. At this point, there is ambiguity. It now seems I am digging in dirt beneath the floorboards of our lounge room (though this occurs ambiguously, while I still perceive myself as being outside). (In reality however, this would not be possible, as our house is suspended above the ground on stumps.)

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Morning of November 21, 2009. Saturday.

Dream #: 15,678-02. Reading time (optimized): 30 sec.



I am near an apartment building, possibly an American condominium yet it is south of us on Barolin Street in Australia. The entrance to one man’s apartment on the ground floor is near the back. There is a cascade of flowers (falling from “nowhere”) that comes down a few feet from that door near one corner of the building. It seems to indicate a haunting, though there is no fear, only a sense of eeriness as well as an unearthly beauty. I believe it may relate to the death of a younger unknown female, perhaps a teenager who was possibly killed by someone in the apartment building. There is an anticipation of a pending investigation. The flowers may be small violets (with separate petals falling at times).

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Morning of November 9, 2009. Monday.



In this dream, I discover (as in a lot of similar dreams that continue to both haunt and annoy me as if another part of me had a will of its own yet not viable for my chosen life’s path) I learn that the “other” (the childhood friend, Susan R, I “left” for a different path - not regret, but a very slight guilt, I suppose; strange, as many people have nothing residual over such events or so it seems) is living in an area where I can visit her (not quite sure which country, either USA or Australia). There is one part where my wife (aka childhood Romani tulpa turns out to be real) and I are together on the couch and involved in sensual acts. I notice the “other” (who for some unexplainable reason is just sitting in a lounge chair near us in the same room) is wearing a plain cross (not a crucifix), which hangs down near my face, but nothing else is visible in that periphery. This could probably be related to the fact that she was - or seemed to be - a serious Christian (a main reason why I could not have seen myself living with her when older), or yet another flashback to that Mad magazine poster “The Modern Crucifixion” and the associated “other” events related to that time period.

(It was only later, I realized the connections of my favorite band “The Fixx” and the logo in mirror image looking a bit like XXII, or 22, the “master number” that has a huge connection to many different things in the human supraconscious and continuously repeating around unexplainable events - there is even a group of people that follow this belief).

The outcome of my dream is that the “other” eventually appears in a very unusual manner, not quite human-looking in the face. She looks very old, yet also very young, and a Newton’s cradle ball is stuck in (or growing out of) each ear - halfway out at the hemispheres - and around the ears are deep cracks as if from drying clay - the sides of her head being somewhat skeletal as well. This surreal imagery does not seem at all unusual to me until I am awake and then I wonder how in the world my mind came up with something like that and why I did not think it to be unusual in my dream. However, Newton’s cradle could easily be some sort of dream imagery to represent unseen forces or unseen repercussions from “another side”, and the “other” and I did use the device (and gaze at it) when young.

Morning of October 17, 2009. Saturday.



In my less clear (and less aware) dream state, it occurs to me that zebras have English writing all over their bodies as a “normal” and natural type of pattern. Each stripe represents the form of a letter (and apparently punctuation in some cases), though elongated. Typically, the “messages” are positive but some are sarcastic. This (the “sarcastic message”) seems to relate to spending too much time looking at a particular zebra within a larger herd (or “zeal”, an unusual term for a herd of zebras).

There is an association with an older dream where zebras are said to be fictional animals that certain people (of certain mentalities) do not believe in. Apparently, via the dream’s flawed “logic”, only people who are said to be delusional view a white horse and a black horse through a fence somehow and mistake the two animals for one (that is, as a zebra - again supposedly a fictional or mythological animal in this scenario). At the time, this seemed to be a sarcastic statement relating to the disbelief of the existence of zebras (in my dream only), which seemingly related to denial of the unknown or unexplainable in thinking something can only be black or white or that everything is easily labelled or explainable - that is, either this or that.

Mostly, this was influenced by an educational worksheet called “Zebras with Zero Stripes in a Zigzag Cage”, where the young student fills in a list of words to make the “stripes”.