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    Lucid Dreams

    1. “Purple Lordo” Drink, the Usual Floating, Travel

      by , 06-26-2023 at 09:58 AM
      “Purple Lordo” Drink, the Usual Floating, Travel

      3 minutes to read.

      Monday morning, 26 June 2023.

      Dream #20,643-02.


      My dream begins with inconsistent thoughts (for no particular reason) about seeing ActionKid, a YouTuber, in an unknown restaurant. I do not focus much on this scenario, so this first segment remains without definition or an outcome. Regardless of my recall of this person and the existence of YouTube, I have no recollection of my waking-life existence.

      Proto-cognizance guides my imaginary self into the setting - but without physicality. In this stage, I often read or try to read. An unfamiliar man (emerging protoconsciousness “serving” my precursory consciousness) comes to my table to see if I want to order.

      While reading the menu, I had been studying the phrase “Purple Lordo,” supposedly a drink. I ask him what it is, inferring I want to order one. He tells me I need to be a club member (associated with the restaurant’s bar), but this part of the narrative immediately fades. Instead of telling me what it is, a vague hologram appears on the table, and he pretends to mix the drink in a tall glass tumbler. Although I hear “hard liquor,” which fills about one-quarter of the bottom, the rest of what he says is gibberish. The last part is potato mash, which sits atop the last one-quarter of the drink.

      I order the Purple Lordo drink.

      My somatosensory response to dreaming engages at the typical time. He brings my order to me, but it is not a drink. My dream becomes exponentially more vivid as I open a vinyl package. It has a gray Walkman with a cassette inside (supposedly what I had ordered) and a gray case for an iPhone. Their arrangement is lengthways, side by side.

      I do not have headphones, so I cannot pretend to listen to what I ordered. Instead, the narrative fades, and I enter a different dream.

      There is a Native American man (in tribal regalia) whom I talk to, along with a few other people. He talks about how he cannot recall certain parts of his youth (signifying a direct correlation with my virtual amnesia while dreaming).

      The setting is like a resort.

      At one point during most sleep cycles, my vestibular response to REM atonia creates content where I float upward. In this instance, I float upward and bump the top of my head against the ceiling. It happens several times. The other people do not find it unusual, though I can intuitively sense my thoughts are creating their reaction as in many past dreams.

      It is time for me to leave the resort and go home (though I have no thoughts about where “home” is). I walk to Bob’s car. Marilyn (half-sister on my mother’s side and Bob’s wife) walks with us. My dream self has no recall that they are both deceased.

      I get into Bob’s car from its right side to sit in the back seat (intuitive awareness I am sleeping on Zsuzsanna’s right). There are two people to my left, a teenage boy and a young girl. Only at this point, I recall I have two children (solely my two youngest in real-world correlation when there are five in total). I am puzzled by why they are not in the car instead. Marilyn mentions that someone else is taking them home.

      My dream transitions into the next stage of my proprioception response to REM atonia, making my dream more vivid again. As a result, Bob is driving in reverse before I shut the car’s door. I am unwary, but I make several attempts to close the door, but it does not shut tightly, so I open it again each time (typical arm mobility response as in all sleep cycles).

      I feel extraordinarily joyful (as usual with imaginary kinesthesia). Details beyond the moving side of the car on my right are wholly absent as my physicality becomes more discernible over time. (This factor is because I sleep on my left side, so attentiveness to reality - absent in the dream state in this stage - is “to my right.” In other words, the right side of the dream state illusion is undefined.)

      Cars (as with all vehicles) correspond with my intuitive recognition of real-world mobility while intuitively seeking consciousness. They occur throughout all sleep cycles. Vehicles (or animals) often appear when my vestibular response to REM atonia is predominant. Somatosensory nuances typically emerge above that threshold, with auditory being the last, depending on how I respond to sleep dynamics.



      Tags: car, drink, floating
      Categories
      lucid
    2. My Job is to Scrape Ice off the Edge of a Concrete Platform

      by , 03-12-2023 at 08:53 AM


      Sunday morning, 12 March 2023.

      Dream #: 20,537-01.

      2 minutes and 30 seconds to read.

      Somatosensory Foundation:

      This dream, originating from typical REM sleep dynamics, results in a narrative enforcing my somatosensory response (imagining purposeful tactility) and potential real-world hand mobility because of my current status of REM atonia, a causality factor for dreams in the fourth quarter of my sleep cycle. It is so specific the physiological pattern and timing match tens of thousands of previous dreaming experiences over nearly 60 years.

      The presence of ice has a double meaning here. Ice corresponds with my intuitive perception of REM atonia nuances (while ice melting anticipates achieving wakefulness and real-world mobility), while I also sometimes imagine ice when there is too much real-world heat while sleeping.

      The setting is a parking lot on Copeland Avenue in La Crosse (a city I have not lived in since 1994). It is late morning. My job is to scrape ice off the edge of an elevated curb. The ice is only on the vertex of the top edge of one side of the low-set platform. The vividness is astounding, beautiful, and peaceful. For about 20 minutes, I happily scrape all the ice off, feeling satisfied, but I wonder if any of it will form again before I receive my payment.

      More Correspondence with the Usual Sleep Dynamics: A parking lot is what I imagine, define, and create to enhance a mode of liminality, a specific level of dream state awareness. As in real-world correlation, it represents temporary immobility but with a potential transition from one place to another (here, from the dream state to viable wakefulness). This fundamental dream motif has remained a regular feature since early childhood, typically as the final scene of a sleep cycle.

      The concrete platform is about the size and height of a bed - with the vertex of the curb being the top edge of one side of the “concrete bed.” I sometimes shift a blanket remaining atop it, recognizing its role in my sleep navigation.

      Protoconsciousness Personified as a Celebrity: After I finish my work, I watch George C. Scott, the actor, approaching a nearby building (walking from the road). The building is farther from the avenue than I am. It seems to be his office for the management of a nearby warehouse. He sees me but does not mention my payment and enters the building.

      I am unconcerned about my payment or even if I receive it. I “walk with intent” to the road. However, George C. Scott comes out to give me a check when he sees I am leaving.

      Proto-Cognizant Staging: I look at the check and read its details as I walk. It is for 20 dollars. There is handwriting featuring “20 Copeland Avenue,” “La Crosse,” and “G. Scott” as a signature. I plan on asking Zsuzsanna if George C. Scott owns a business here. (Zsuzsanna has never been to America, as I often remind readers.) I am intrigued but consider it may have been someone who only looked like him.

      Inexplicable Transpersonal Link to Zsuzsanna:

      Zsuzsanna was awake and reading about Emmet Brown’s “Great Scott” exclamations. There was no way I could have known this other than a typical transpersonal link - which is how I learned she was a real-world person (on the other side of the planet from me long before we met in waking life).

      These links (NOT because of the dream state, as some people pretend - as dreams distort the link as they do everything else) regularly occur when one of us is awake and the other asleep. However, it also happens (with different dynamics) when we are both awake or asleep.

      Updated 03-12-2023 at 09:16 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    3. Loose Screws (somatosensory - unfathomably vivid)

      by , 03-07-2023 at 08:43 AM
      Tuesday morning, 7 March 2023.

      Dream #: 20,532-02.

      2 minutes to read.

      This dreaming experience sustains my somatosensory response to variations in REM atonia. Because of how specific my illusory hand mobility is, my dream renders such realistic imagery, tangibility, and depth perception that it is unfathomable in conscious afterthought.

      My main focus involves looking for a correctly sized screw to put through two parts of a small screwdriver and tighten it - so that it becomes a usable screwdriver again. I use a different small screwdriver to turn the screw inside the hollow handle of the first. I do not find one I can rotate for very long until stopping from it being the wrong size.

      The setting is an ambiguous combination of table and floor with screws and small metal pieces everywhere, but I do not consider it as impossible as it would be in a real-world activity. (The bottom half of my body would be missing to correspond with the narrative’s implication.)

      Other features are present at times. I notice a few small tackle boxes and open them, but they are empty.

      There are several containers with dark smooth rust coating their inside. Although I think about removing it, I do not.

      Protoconsciousness (atypical somatosensory induction in this case), personified as an unknown man who vaguely reminds me of an alcoholic co-worker from over 20 years ago, is present for a time. He blows on my face with significant realism and asks if he can help me, but I tell him it is unnecessary. An unfamiliar man on my left asks me if he wants him to go to the other man’s house to talk to him about leaving me alone, but I tell him no.

      Meanwhile, a harmonica inside a transparent plastic container plays itself, though it is only one loud chord. I do not consider the event unusual. It seems incongruously related to the man blowing air.

      Regarding my dreaming history, it is more common for a female dream character as protoconsciousness to blow on my face or sprinkle water on me for dream state vivification. Sometimes she hovers above the floor, becoming an anthropomorphic water form, and “rains” on me. It exponentially vivifies the dream state because of my somatosensory response and its hallucinatory cortical activity.

      When I slept in a friend’s apartment in America years ago, the anthropomorphic water form seemed present for nearly an hour, and bubbles continually moved inside it.

      Regarding two typical offset dreams today, one was a cast somatosensory event where an unknown cheerful young girl receives a roll of coins (unknown denomination) from an unseen bank teller. A typical REM atonia response casts a roomful of dolls (a common metacognitive association with physical immobility while asleep). Such content does not occur intentionally - it is how I have always intuitively though spontaneously responded to the physiological effects of sleep in liminal states since childhood. Feeling someone’s hair or an animal’s fur is more guided (intentional).
      Categories
      lucid
    4. Heraldic Dragon Storm

      by , 03-07-2023 at 06:47 AM


      2 minutes and 30 seconds to read.

      Wednesday morning, 1 March 2023.

      Dream #: 20,526-03.

      The illusory dynamics of this dreaming experience first involve the typical arm (and hand) mobility theme and somatosensory responses to REM atonia, but after “walking with intent” (and vivifying my dream exponentially), the somatosensory factor transitions from directed to received (over my entire right side) and becomes incredibly vivid, with loud auditory phasing.

      My dream’s first segment is a typical shopping narrative in an unknown location. After getting several items in a grocery store, I go to what I think will be a bigger grocery store, though it turns out to be smaller. I push the shopping cart from the first store, go outside, turn to the right, and enter the small store. During this time, I touch the various Australian bills, mainly the fifty-dollar notes, to multiply them in my wallet, realizing I can do this continually, having no limit to what I can spend.

      A man is sitting near the narrow entrance inside the building, though the perpendicular corner, where people exit, is open. I tell him he can look at my receipt (from the previous store) as I hold it, but he waves me and my shopping cart through. The aisle begins here but turns right at 90 degrees and turns right again with one checkout at the third counter (opposite the corner near the exit). In other words, the shopping area is only one rectangular path, with the entrance and exit at the same corner.

      One man walks close to my shopping cart but goes in the opposite direction. The area is too narrow to allow for much browsing.

      I do not see much to buy. I pick up a few fruits resembling mangos, but they have strange small donut shapes over their surface. The spots are reminiscent of white hole guard labels for notebook paper. Even so, I keep one that looks fresh.

      I pick up two pairs of unusual red fruits shaped like irregular Greek amphoras. (They are probably meant to look like hearts with partial aortas.) I select a few other items.

      At the checkout, I hand the male cashier a twenty-dollar bill. Some coins fall (more typical of my second post-hypnagogic dream content each sleep cycle), but he picks them up for me.

      Once outside again in daylight, I am unsure how I will get home. I consider getting a bus, but I decide to push the shopping cart home, though I am unsure where I am and which direction home is. Eventually, I “walk with intent” as my dream becomes more vivid, realizing there is a light rain (somatosensory response to variations in REM atonia).

      To my left are surreal storm clouds, one forming a black tornado with irregular curves. I am unconcerned. Ahead, at a T-intersection, is a tall building of at least five floors. Above the building are at least three animated sketches of heraldic dragons. They are unrealistic in that they look like neither living creatures nor clouds. Even so, curls of black smoke form some of the moving drawings.

      As I walk closer, my dream becomes more and more vivid, with incredible surreal beauty. The “cartoon” dragons continue to breathe fire and lightning onto the top of the building, seemingly with a sentient attempt to destroy it. I do not feel endangered.

      A loud roaring noise, similar to the last part of the alien light probe scene from “Star Trek: The Motion Pictures,” occurs as I walk by the building. I consider that the heraldic dragon “storm clouds” will remain over the building until I leave the area.

      As I deliberately walk by the building, though in the middle of the street, rubble and dust from its eaves (because of a dragon’s blast of fire and lightning) bounce along the street, hitting me lightly along my right side, head to foot. The sensation is incredibly realistic. I find it fascinating (and vaguely amusing) as I slowly walk until my dream ends.


      Updated 03-07-2023 at 07:02 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    5. MAPPED DREAM: "Tiko's Treasure"

      by , 03-06-2023 at 06:14 PM


      Saturday morning, 29 November 1975. Age 14.

      Dream #: 3,267-01.

      1 minute and 40 seconds to read.

      Scene 1:

      Toby Taylor and I are reminiscing about the 1962 movie “Tiko and the Shark” that I had watched a few times on the “CBS Children’s Film Festival.” We talk about the idea of a remake or sequel even though we also talk about Tiko’s life as if he was a real-world person we knew.

      The setting, although appearing as the El Jobean fishing pier in Port Charlotte, Florida, in the early evening, implies the location is Bora Bora to bring about connections to the movie as I push my imagination into my dream’s ongoing narrative. As I talk, I focus on my dream corresponding with my intent as I narrate an idea for a fictitious sequel called “Tiko’s Treasure.”

      Scene 2:

      As I think about time travel and Tiko’s village, the pier dissolves, and I fall into the water. Although I see shark fins, I am unconcerned.

      Toby is “still” on the pier, but it is now far away, contradicting the first implication. The narrative ambiguously implies it has not yet been built, but Toby is still in his original location, despite me being in the water about half a city block away from it. Even so, it seems I am communicating from the dream state (as a fantasy) to his imagined “real-world location” in the “future” (from my present location). More contradictory is that I now consider I might be (or become) Tiko (even though I am also me).

      Scene 3:

      I find myself in an unrealistic setting with grass huts. One grass hut may be a ticket booth for the “movie” I am exploring. Other grass huts may be for tourists.

      The usual factor of arm mobility associations ambiguously integrates into the narrative, resulting in self-contradicting content.

      Several “bowling balls” float in the water near one hut (as I consider there is a bowling alley for tourists nearby, but the balls sometimes roll from the hut into the water). The imagery becomes more like a cartoon at this point. They may be confused with large black pearls in the region to distract treasure hunters.

      Eventually, I think they are probably coconuts.

      Unusual Correlation:
      Curiously, there WAS a remake a few years after this dream. I found myself watching it when going through channels on my sister Marilyn’s television. The remake is “Beyond the Reef (Sharkboy of Bora Bora)” - made in 1979 but supposedly not released until 1981.
    6. MAPPED DREAM "Run from the Brontosaurus"

      by , 03-06-2023 at 03:42 PM


      Saturday morning, 18 December 1971. Age 10.

      Dream #: 1,825-01.

      2 minutes and 30 seconds to read.

      Scene 1:

      I intuitively respond to the dream state by “leaving my bed” (imagined) before dawn and “walking with intent” through the Cubitis house’s dark carport - toward our backyard rabbit shed (a recurrent beginning for this mode of dreaming).

      A brontosaurus in suspended animation is present. I cannot pass it. Its head and neck lie across the short concrete path that extends into our backyard from the east end of our carport, stopping at our shed’s entrance. I illogically conclude my father dug it up while working on the real-world addition to the building.

      Lightning strikes the dinosaur’s head, and it comes to life as I watch its head rise above me.

      Scene 1 Influence and Causality:

      This part of the narrative came from the 1960 movie “Dinosaurus.” However, in that movie, the brontosaurus was friendly. My dream integrates the essence of the dinosaur from the 1959 redundantly titled movie “The Giant Behemoth” and borrows from it more than “Dinosaurus” from this point.

      Lightning striking the dinosaur’s head to “wake it up” (as in the movie) is cast here because of an increase in my intuitive response to dreaming, that is, gaining more metacognition while still in the dream state. Therefore, the dinosaur is this dream’s sleep simulacrum. Sleep simulacra have featured regularly in my dreams since childhood. I habitually seek out and wake up sleep simulacra by habit to vivify and sustain the dream state. I stay in the dream state (by choice) and “run” from the dinosaur without real-world emotion. This event exemplifies my lifelong trait of anticipating wakefulness while dreaming, yet it results in virtually infinite unique and satisfying narratives.

      Scene 2:

      Even though I am on foot, I soon reach the El Jobean bridge in Port Charlotte, though it takes over 40 minutes by car in real-world time. It incorrectly looks more like London Bridge when I look back while walking south. The time now seems like late afternoon. I get impressions of “toy” cars the size of real-world cars, though I do not focus on them. I find the bridge imagery fascinating. The dinosaur, which moves slowly in the distance, may not reach me as the bridge might collapse. It may not even be aware of me. It moves with an unrealistic stop-motion effect, as in the movie.

      Scene 3:

      When reaching about two-thirds of the length of the bridge under a blue sky, I decide I will jump from it because I reason it may collapse anyway to bring an end to my dream. (Illusory bodily awareness and sense of weight are too realistic for flying in this instance.) Even so, I am still vaguely unjustifiably wary of what will happen if the animal reaches me before I wake.

      I sit on the railing and cheerfully jump, expecting I will merely wake up - though I do not. Instead, I enter a more vivid offset dream.

      I feel an impression of landing on my feet, but there is a loud staccato sound of breaking glass. There is a brief cool “pain” in my feet. I am now in the southwest area of my real-world school’s playground (in the early morning), standing on a four-paned window I broke by landing on it.

      I sit down and cheerfully pull flat triangular pieces of glass from the bottom of my feet. There are about five pieces in each. There is no blood, and I am unconcerned.

      Outcome Causality:

      My deliberate jump to leave the dream state caused a quick transition of responses from my vestibular cortex with imaginary movement (and the regularly occurring leg mobility theme every sleep cycle), a predictable auditory event of the sound of breaking glass (that has continually happened throughout my life, and which otherwise breaks the illusion of dreaming in contrast to here), and my somatosensory response (which often follows my vestibular-motor response).

      Updated 03-06-2023 at 04:18 PM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    7. White Crustaceans & Lobsterpocalypse

      by , 12-31-2021 at 06:31 PM
      2 minute 28 second read.



      White Crustaceans

      From Friday, 31 December 2021

      Dream #: 20,101-04 (Last dream of last morning of 2021)

      In an unknown location, I climb the side of a mountain in daylight with little effort. The view is beautiful as I see valleys and gorges under a blue sky.

      After ascending a slope (and “walking with intent”), I arrive on flat ground and see small white crabs walking several inches apart in a line (as if marching with a human-like essence). I am unwary as the scene begins to seem silly.

      A former Nazi concentration camp appears in an illogical elevated location on the other side of a barbed-wire fence. It seems abandoned. Areas between the groups of equidistant buildings are illogically too narrow.






      Lobsterpocalypse (Re-titled)

      From Friday, 3 November 1972

      Dream #: 2,146-09

      Small white lobsters threaten human civilization, but my dream mainly implies people have to secure their homes and not go outside for a year or two. The area is undefined except for an unfamiliar library, a vacant field, a deep narrow gorge, and distant mountains.

      The library is the only building in the narrative. I do not otherwise see evidence of a town. My dream self perceives the location as being in Florida, even though Florida does not have such landmarks as high mountains and deep gorges.

      I explore the vacant field. Here and there, I see circular holes in the ground as if made for a barbecue. Piles of small white lobsters fill most of the shallow recesses. I am uncertain if they are alive. Someone might have cooked them. There is a vague feeling of nausea, but not predominant.

      Tina L_____ (a girl from my school about my age) is at the unrecognized public library where I am. There is an implied fear at times, but it feels like we are pretending as I also perceive my dream’s narrative as a movie in progress. She pretends to have an Australian or British accent at times.

      A few small white lobsters emerge from between books on the shelves. Most are at about chest level.

      We need to leave the library and escape from the region because more will supposedly arrive. No one expresses any concern. They remain seated at tables or look for books on the shelves.

      We will be “safer than anyone else” by taking a particular route. However, as we quickly walk easterly over the vacant field, our progress is halted by a deep narrow gorge. I see a raging river far below, but only barely visible because of the depth. Concern fades at this point as I choose to wake myself.


      My dream narratives primarily develop from familiar physiological causality but often include choices on what my dreaming experience will feature, with or without what people claim is “lucidity.”

      Crabs and lobsters typically imply associations with my somatosensory phasing response to REM atonia when navigating the illusions of dreaming. The circumstances vary, from intuitively knowing I cannot maneuver my fingers (or toes) while sleeping (associations with a crustacean claw) to anticipated sensations relating to my hands. Coins occur far more often during this process (as I often intuitively summon them to vivify and sustain a dream), but an animal nibbling my fingers may also occur when protoconsciousness is predominant.

      Vestibular-motor sensations are the predominant factor of causality, including flying (every sleep cycle since before I could read or write), slope navigation, navigating elevated spaces - and seeing a gorge or illogically low-set feature (such as a street far below a curb).

      Both REM atonia (natural paralysis while sleeping), “drop anticipation” (with or without REM myoclonus), and the feeling my dream is ending influence narratives and outcomes.



      Updated 05-25-2022 at 10:25 AM by 1390 (Enhancements and grammar)

      Categories
      lucid , memorable
    8. Punching Arnold Schwarzenegger in a Library (plus meanings)

      by , 10-12-2021 at 09:55 AM
      Morning of February 5, 2020. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 19,406-02. Optimized 2 minute read.




      I have a turntable set up in a featureless, unknown location as part of a large console to use commercial music sections in new mixes.

      I become annoyed because, although the music is playing through my headphones, it is also blaring through the speakers, and I do not want to annoy other people in the room. There may be a short or a loose jack. I stuff tissue paper in one input.

      The setting changes. I am in an unfamiliar library. Many other people are here. I now only have a turntable on the floor near a bookcase. Although I am still thinking about mixing music, I notice a group of interesting little books on a shelf.

      They remind me of the vintage Little Blue Books (Haldeman-Julius Publishing Company) I once had, but they seem to be a periodical as there are issue numbers on them, published each week since the 1900s. I read some of the content. On one back page, a couple of sentences are curiously at an angle, overlapping others. I can still read the content regarding 1930s women’s fashion. There are many pages featuring crafts. Two unfamiliar boys intend to sit down while they face the bookcase. They accidentally stumble onto my turntable. I shout at them after they fall and again when I see a crack in the middle of the tonearm. (It is flat and made of cream-colored plastic). I believe they should pay for a new tonearm. A bystander watches me.

      Arnold Schwarzenegger approaches. He commands me to stop yelling at the boys. I spontaneously punch him, and he goes flying backward, all the way to the other side of the library. He transforms into a shoddy black and blue plastic robot that seems like an oversized hollow toy, with limbs that are flat in profile and somewhat skeletal. It lands on its head near a bookcase.

      If you are knowledgeable about dreams, you know that arm swinging is a spontaneous physiological stimulus for emergence from REM atonia (physical immobility while sleeping). Protoconsciousness (here as Arnold Schwarzenegger) induces this response. There is a correlation with the cracked “tonearm,” cleverly directing me to gain muscle tonality and arm mobility for waking.

      My dream’s cerebral phasing stage (seeking and reading text) included vestibular phasing ambiguity (the illogical angles of the superimposed sentences revealing a conflict between my imaginary vertical orientation in my dream and my body’s horizontal position while sleeping).

      Arnold Schwarzenegger becomes an unrealistic robot as in 1984’s movie “The Terminator.” Movie influence is often predominant in my dreams more than associations with real life. Protoconsciousness often personifies as either a celebrity or an unfamiliar person to block associations with waking life from a personal level. The robot’s infeasibility correlates with REM atonia. (Dolls or statues are other indicators of this type of metacognitive awareness.)

      The robot’s colors are an incidental correlation with the phrase “beaten black and blue.”

      Stuffing tissue paper into one input correlates with putting tissue paper in one’s ear to block sound while sleeping.

    9. A Fascinating “War” without Real War

      by , 09-24-2021 at 05:33 PM
      Morning of September 24, 2021. Friday.

      Dream #: 20,003-02. 2 min 54 sec read.




      Late at night, I watch sparkling silver cursive text (as if covered with glitter) move smoothly through the sky from right to left. I am on the front porch of a fictitious version of the Barolin Street house (where we have not lived in years). The text is not on a banner as it seems to be a solid sequence of plastic material shaped like the outer form of the writing, moving like a conveyor belt. I am unsure of the implication. I decide it may be unseen aliens because the text refers to humans collectively, using “you” (not me personally).

      I describe it to Zsuzsanna as she approaches. As text often does in dreams, it continuously changes, but with some readable words and phrases forming and morphing here and there. There is a transition to a similar scene, but unresolvable indoor-outdoor ambiguity (impossible with conscious perception) is predominant before the narrative changes again. The entire neighborhood seems to be inside the house. The floating text is unlike silver glitter now and plain, “rotating” across the “ceiling.” (It is a common mistake in my dreams for the sky to become a ceiling or vice versa.)

      Now it is daytime. The events are more vivid as I become more physically aware (temporary proprioception correlating with my specific level of REM atonia). Objects are continuously moving from left to right in midair, in front of the eaves of the porch. They first seem like miniature air conditioners. Zsuzsanna is to my left (as with our sleeping position). I know they should keep going, but a few of them fall from the sequence on the porch floor and outside near the porch door.

      I pick up one object and throw it into the front yard. I soon throw another one that rapidly slides across the street into someone else’s front yard, though into a culvert drainage ditch (confusion with the Cubitis house in America). There is an unfamiliar dark-haired man who is also moving similar objects out of the way. I apologize to him. He remains cheerful. He tells me that the gadgets might be a type of camera. (This event is my dream’s most vivid part because of vestibular phasing, somatosensory phasing, and increasing, though imaginary, proprioception for eventual emerging from REM atonia.)

      It is suddenly night again. I am temporarily concerned that the objects, like empty cardboard boxes at this point, might explode (myoclonic anticipation caused by REM sleep). Our middle son walks out into the front yard (from the porch) just as an explosion occurs (though he is about ten years younger in my dream). The explosion causes him to fly back through the top of the porch’s inner wall (physically impossible but a predictable outcome when remaining in the dream state after a REM myoclonic event). It is as if there was a gap above the window frames. He now stands near us and seems fine. I get the vivid impression of a simulated “war” or events caused by aliens that do not understand that humans can die. (My level of metacognition is low, so this is my mind creatively compensating for the fakeness of the dream state.)

      In the next scene, multicolored glowing barrels are “rolling” in midair in the sky and “shooting” rectangular and square pieces of themselves at various buildings and people (though no one seems injured). At this point, there is a vague association with “Pixels” from 2015 (likely an influence for much of the content).

      In my dream’s last scene, I walk up to an “alien” who seems to be fixing a public building. I talk to the unfamiliar man (who looks human). I tell him that Earth’s military might destroy their spaceships once they learn what is happening. Protoconsciousness (caused by REM cerebral phasing) initiates as an “alien” who reminds me of Melvin Belli as the Gorgan from the “Star Trek” episode, “And the Children Shall Lead.”

      He holds up his hand, addressing the other “alien” and me while cheerfully saying, “Propaganda!” about what I said.

      “That’s not what ‘propaganda’ is, you moron,” I shout. I explain what propaganda is to him as I slowly wake, but consider they might not understand other English words. Of course, this was the protoconsciousness catalyst that triggered more realistic emotion (more so than the earlier explosion near my son) as well as cerebral phasing.




    10. Creatures of the Night (Fun with Bats and Witches)

      by , 03-18-2021 at 10:40 AM
      Morning of March 18, 2021. Thursday.

      Dream #: 19,813-03/04/5. 3 min 20 sec read.




      Vestibular Phasing:

      In one dream, with the usual liminal anticipation of vestibular phasing, I am atop a plateau near a crevice late at night. There is the silhouette of a castle in the distance. There is a silhouette of an unknown man in the foreground. I am floating about ten feet above the ground. Although there is a vague association with vampires, I view the scene as artistic and without wariness. (There is a liminal association with the painting “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog” by Caspar David Friedrich as if the unknown man is the wanderer.) Beauty and elegance are in the detail of the bats I summon as they fly from the crevice with pleasant energy. In the navigation of this fundamental process, I achieve a deep sense of peace.

      Liminal Awareness of Being in Bed Increases:

      In another dream, I am in an unfamiliar semidark bedroom after sunrise. Many people, including family members, are asleep in bed. In different areas of the large bedroom are several clusters of about three to four sleeping bats. (They are sleeping in arrangements similar to our four kittens, probably the influence for this dream sequence.) My dream self does not perceive them as bats (even though they are) but another kind of unusual flying mammal. I make comments about them to an unknown man that had awakened. The bats are about the size of kittens and are white with small black spots, like dalmatians.

      Somatosensory Phasing:

      I open a door a few inches to let them out, and most of them fly out into the bright sunlight. There is a vivid essence of weight and movement, even though I only pick up one. As I hold it and feel it squirm, it bites me on the back of my hand about an inch below my pinkie. Even though I see a small red circular sore after I let it fly away, I am unconcerned. A thin trail of gray foam emerges from the sore, trailing to my pinkie. I am puzzled but unconcerned. (As is typical for this kind of somatosensory phasing, there is a magnification or zooming with the imagery. My hand’s size is increased by about a third.) My dream self does not logically consider that a bite would have left two marks.

      In another dream, the narrative involves a young witch trying to eliminate three problematic older witches. The setting seems to be in a cave (sleep signification) but is like a house. Her focus is eventually on “the third one.” For a time, it seems impossible to eliminate this last witch from her life. She ritualistically chants and looks at drawings from her childhood. Meanwhile, I ask Zsuzsanna if one of the pictures is of Kermit the Frog, but I soon see it as an anthropomorphic rockface facing left in profile. I read a few random phrases but do not recall them.

      Finally, the young witch recites a poem, and the other witch becomes water that fills the room about an inch in depth. At this point, Zsuzsanna wants to leave the “movie,” and so we walk outside. (The water becomes lower, a scene that has occurred in my dreams continually for over 50 years. I realized, even as a child, it signified nearing the end of my sleep cycle.)

      We will be going home. It is morning. Our youngest daughter is with us (though she is the only other family member with us). We are atop a plateau. Looking back at a small structure, I wonder if we should take the three VHS tapes with us of the “movies” we watched (including the last one). Zsuzsanna says we can leave them there for now.

      Navigation of Vestibular Phasing and Imaginary Kinesthesia:

      We have to descend metal ladders to get to the ground far below. Our youngest daughter holds onto Zsuzsanna’s back. She is on my right as I step down onto the ladder, facing the rockface. I am slightly wary about the placement of my feet as the imaginary physicality of dreaming becomes ambiguous. In trying to discern my body’s position and orientation, I automatically wake with a smooth transition. It is otherwise like thousands of previous dreams.



      Two dream content predictions for this date were a plateau or mountaintop and a bat silhouette. (Note that I do not look at predictions until after my dreaming experiences and solving them. People might find this inexplicable, but it is not. In understanding my dreams and their causation and statistics, it is possible to forecast content. For this date, a plateau or mountaintop was 25% likely, a bat 50%, and a silhouette 75%. Even so, elevated areas and managing vestibular phasing and imaginary kinesthesia have occurred throughout every sleep cycle for over 50 years. It has zero to do with symbolism or the pretense of interpretation in contrast to knowing causation. Additionally, associations with flight, including spontaneously flying on my own and managing vestibular phasing in additional ways, occur continually throughout every sleep cycle.)


    11. Crayfish Fight, and My Dancing Flight

      by , 12-24-2020 at 04:07 PM
      Morning of December 23, 2020. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 19,728-03/02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 45 sec.


      This entry includes two unrelated dream narratives. The first integrates somatosensory phasing (as a result of sleep atonia with liminal finger movement associations while sleeping), and the second, the usual vestibular phasing.

      In my first dream, its setting is not only of typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity but also ambiguously underwater yet not underwater. I am simultaneously sitting at the bottom of a lake, in a room, an outdoor area above water, and a large aquarium. Even so, it does not feel like I am underwater other than when I press my face into a vertical wall of suspended water under the “lake.” I am sitting on a couch. (The floor is like the bottom of a lake but with a living room feel.)

      A few people are making a video. There is an unrelated event where two crayfish are fighting. I place my hand near them, and they move apart. There is a buzzing sensation in my fingers. They come back to fight and move about several times.


      I am playfully sarcastic regarding the video the others are making. I press my face into a wall of water. When I speak, my voice only makes gurgling sounds. I can vividly feel the water on my nose and mouth. I am recording my “speaking” for the others to use in their video.


      In my offset dream, predictable vestibular phasing brings about the usual liminal navigation of floating and flying. An actor is performing for others. On stage right, I perform some unusual dancing as he speaks. I soon float several feet into the air to hover for several seconds each time. As I slowly fly, my awareness becomes more vivid. I feel cheerful, and my activity is effortless (as the result of vestibular system correlation, a non-symbolic fundamental physiological effect of navigating the dream state).

      The scene in my first dream comes from the annoying gurgling in numerous videos I have seen recently in waking life, even on mainstream media. Their talking becomes so incoherent with the gurgling effect I often cannot discern most of the words. This attribute is from noise removal settings being too high. I would rather hear background noise than be unable to understand what they are saying.

      Somatosensory phasing relating to water denizens is typically in dreams near the middle of my sleep cycle, and in this case, the process precedes the vestibular phasing, making it more vivid and effortless. There were recent dreams with a giant walking squid (Gezora), my hand transforming into a starfish, the sleep atonia causation regarding my arms as two ghostly octopus tentacles phasing from out of a tabletop, and many more.

      Updated 12-24-2020 at 04:12 PM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    12. “Take them to the Mines”

      by , 12-18-2020 at 10:14 AM
      Night of December 17, 2020. Thursday.

      Dream #: 19,722-18. Reading time: 2 min 12 sec.



      In my dream, I become aware of being in an unfamiliar house. I am looking through a doorway where a young girl sits at a desk in a smaller room, writing. (I am standing near the center of a mostly featureless room.) A little bird is on her desk, having left its cage. I am somewhat surprised that cerebral phasing (and its personification) is still active. Ordinarily, the Naiad factor (melatonin mediation) has occupied this part of my sleep cycle’s timeline for over 50 years. (She is not a Naiad though she does mention mines, suggesting caves, in the outcome of the narrative.)

      I slowly become aware of the silhouettes of about six birds. They are peregrine falcons and owls flying around in the foreground, about two feet in front of me in the same room. There is significant energy that increases over time.

      After an intriguing sustained hypnotic focus on this shadowy rustling and atypical energy for this stage, the girl turns to tell me, “Take them to the mines.” I know it means to prepare to enter a deeper sleep to decrease vestibular phasing and myoclonic anticipation.



      How to understand the reasons for dream content:

      Can ultradian rhythm, sleep dynamics, and the time of my dream be determined solely by content? Yes, in this instance, it most certainly can. Here is why:

      Firstly, “take them to the mines,” preconsciously commands going to a dark place underground. In other words, it anticipates my liminal thoughts of entering deeper sleep near the beginning of my sleep cycle. (I am typically aware of the causes of my dreams while I am navigating them. It is not “intepretation” to already comprehend what is occurring.) References to caves in anticipation of entering (or returning to) deeper sleep have been a regular feature in my dreams for over 50 years.

      Because the peregrine falcons and owls are somewhat restless and in the foreground, as a result of predominant vestibular phasing (implying it will take longer to succumb to sleep atonia), the cerebral phasing personification (the girl at her desk) increases to bring attention to the process; thus the cerebral phasing (and reasoning ability) is also at a higher level than usual. Birds also often anticipate myoclonus while sleeping, though in this case, the residual vestibular phasing does not result in myoclonus.

      Why is my anticipation of slow-wave sleep compensated for here in associating it with mines? It is because of experiencing sleep apnea recently. The girl says, “Take them to the mines.” Despite the peregrine falcons and owls indicating restless residual vestibular phasing, a subliminal reference to canaries in coal mines for detecting harmful gases is a factor. It is associated with not being able to breathe while sleeping. Despite subliminally anticipating sleep apnea in this instance, I otherwise rarely experience it.

      My dreams often include literal references to sleeping or dreaming because I am always aware (on one of three fundamental levels; instinctual, liminal, or lucid) when navigating dream space (and duality).

      My dream’s partial influence is the print “El sueño de la razón produce monstruos” (“The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters”) by Francisco Goya. However, the foundation stems from “Young Girl Writing at Her Desk with Birds” by Henriette Browne. There was no perception of uneasiness despite the inference of the Goya print.


      Updated 12-20-2020 at 09:29 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    13. The Rain

      by , 08-10-2020 at 11:38 AM
      Morning of August 10, 2020. Monday.

      Dream #: 19,593-02. Reading time: 2 min 50 sec.



      While comfortably re-entering light sleep by choice, I summon my favorite scene - a light rain in an urban neighborhood. It is in the late morning. As I float into the extraordinarily vivid setting, flying slowly about four feet above the street, I choose to remain incorporeal, without summoning and integrating imaginary physicality. Even so, imaginary kinaesthesia becomes a factor of my navigation through the fictitious environment. I indulge in the astounding detail and beauty of raindrops falling into puddles.

      Eventually, there is an incidental recall that Zsuzsanna and I had briefly discussed the Netflix series “The Rain” last night while scrolling through the content. (We had only seen the first episode weeks ago.) Two people (implied to be from the series) walk into the previously unpopulated setting, strolling off to my left, eventually no longer in view. I consider whether my dream will amalgamate the backstory of the series in implying the rain is dangerous.

      American actor Jack Albertson (June 16, 1907-November 25, 1981) is lying on his left side on the ground (concurrent with my sleeping position). He is inside a fenced area not much longer than his height, the top of his head directed to the sidewalk. The fenced area is otherwise for either recyclables or junk from the adjacent service station. I wonder if sleeping in the rain will be problematic for him during my distracted association with “The Rain.” His eyes roll up with his visage like Elise Rainier’s from “Insidious: The Last Key” Zsuzsanna and I watched last night.

      Soon, the young Elise Rainier forms from droplets of rain flowing over a tree and hovers in the air about three feet from the sidewalk (typical reinduction as the Naiad factor common since childhood) and vocalizes the melody (with only tenuto “oo” sounds) of Jim Reeve’s “The Blizzard.” (My dream self does not make the association with that song or its implications during my dream.) This factor stabilizes the original peaceful essence of the dream state.

      Even so, after about fifteen minutes, cerebral nuances begin to activate wakefulness, resulting in text of various colors appearing on the street in paint and chalk. (Despite the rain, it does not wash away.) I float over an area where the word “leveling” features in white paint. I focus more on my usual seeking of text in this mode, but nothing relevant is in my view after this. I see what I first think might be a word, but it transforms into a series (about five of them) of the letter “i.” I see the character “o” in a set of three. Probably every letter of the English alphabet, in various colors, features at varying angles to each other on the street’s surface.



      Notes on this dream’s no-brainer causality:

      The essence of water (both summoned and spontaneous) begins the majority of my dreaming experiences in this mode as virtual melatonin. The Naiad factor is the pineal gland personification but also has mystical implications with the so-called third eye (as well as the Eye of Providence).

      Note the incidental play on “Elise Rainier” as “release rain” (“produce more melatonin to sustain my dream”).

      “Leveling” is concurrent with the transition from the imaginary kinaesthesia of floating into legitimate physicality without myoclonus. (There is probably an association of the balance between serotonin and melatonin).

      Jack Albertson’s role as this dream’s sleep simulacrum ties with several threads of dream state causality. Firstly, he remains in bed in the first scenes of “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.”

      Secondly, that association was recalled from me posting an image of Willie Talk (a ventriloquist dummy) on Twitter yesterday, a doll being the signification of the absence of mental and physical viability while sleeping.

      Thirdly, his visage is as Elise Rainier’s in a trance (yet another play on sleeping and dreaming).

      Fourthly, the fenced area signifies both the virtual division between dream space and the threshold of wakefulness and, in this case, is also indicative of how the physical body is restricted in its movement while sleeping.



      Everything in this dream stems from the same causation factors as the tens of thousands of other dreaming experiences I have studied and resolved daily for over 50 years. Even so, the uniqueness each time is surprisingly admirable.


      Categories
      lucid
    14. Solid Tin Coyote vs. Imperial Walkers

      by , 06-18-2020 at 12:32 PM
      Night of June 17, 2020. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 19,539-14. Reading time (optimized): 2 min 30 sec.



      Before deliberately letting go of my conscious awareness and recognition of being in the dream state (see note one below), I watch the typical rapid morphing of surreal imagery until it begins to slow into something with which I can integrate. I become aware of an audio snippet from “The Solid Tin Coyote” that accompanied the scene where it is striding. (It is a very familiar and nostalgic sound going back to age five when I first saw it in a drive-in theater with my sister Marilyn and her husband.)

      I focus on the imaginary sound, and this results in a vivid vestibular response of being the solid tin coyote. However, during my dream, my viewpoint changes. At times, I am the solid tin coyote, cheerfully striding through a field. At other times, I am inside its head at a panel reminiscent of an aircraft. Additionally, I am sometimes watching it from an incorporeal perspective.

      Soon, Imperial Walkers (AT-AT walkers) from the “Star Wars” franchise appear on each side. They are slightly shorter than the solid tin coyote. As the solid tin coyote, I happily push them over and avoid their attacks.

      Eventually, when cerebral cortex nuances rise above vestibular cortex nuances (that is, thought cohesiveness beginning to overtake the imaginary physicality of the dream state because of higher liminality and more predominant duality), a Boston Dynamics robot dog struts into the scene from the opposite direction. “Mind your social distancing,” it says in a strange synthetic voice, yet while walking even closer to my solid tin coyote form.

      “Here’s your social distancing,” I say, and kick the Boston Dynamics robot dog over a pole vault bar about a city block’s distance away.

      After this, vestibular dynamics rise above cerebral, resulting in seeing a herd of zebras running to the horizon. (See note two.)



      It is important to emphasize that this is my first liminal to instinctual dream where a pandemic term was perceived, though it still did not trigger any dream state recall of the pandemic itself.



      Note one: In contrast to “becoming lucid” while dreaming (though I have always been spontaneously lucid in the first half of a sleep cycle since I was a toddler, a fact that most people can neither seem to comprehend nor accept), I often utilize the opposite technique. After building a foundation of repeated specialized affirmations (though I never post more definitively scripted dreams online), I deliberately release my conscious presence, so my dream becomes instinctual (without conscious bias, allowing my dream’s narrative to render naturally), which is more intriguing and unique than by way of liminal modulation. (This term includes the sustaining of the duality and knowledge of causal factors between dream space and waking space.) It is overwhelmingly evident that most people lack any understanding of the dream state or its processes, but I try to write as clearly and as honestly as I can. I use specialized software to utilize as low a grade level (concerning readability) as possible for the content, making multiple passes. Despite my AI-reported performance, typically 100% (correctness, clarity, engagement, and delivery), that does not guarantee that my writing is entirely free of errors or ambiguity.

      Note two: Anything in my dream resulting from vestibular-cerebral handshakes and their instinctual, liminal, or lucid management, for example, a car, horse, robot, and so on, vary with which cortex is concurrently most active.

      Robots correlate more with cerebral cortex integration (and my liminal awareness that the physicality of the dream state is wholly imaginary). Physical forms such as animals (in this case, the zebras) correlate more with vestibular-cerebral passivity as I release my hold on liminality. I have experienced these results in thousands of my dreams since childhood, so there is no mystery as to their causal factors.


    15. Commanding a Trailer to the Enchanted Forest

      by , 06-09-2020 at 07:26 AM
      Morning of June 9, 2020. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 19,531-02. Reading time (optimized) 3 min.



      My dream begins with indoor-outdoor ambiguity. Although I am in an unidentifiable rural park in Wisconsin before dawn, I am first near a wall that holds the essence of a room when my dream self becomes aware. I am listening to a vinyl LP with my thoughts being that I can change the wording of the spoken audio, which seems to be a business missive. It is as if I am editing and clarifying the implied text with my mind even though it is on a 33 1/3rd rpm record. At one point, I see the individual words on small movable virtual cutouts that I can rearrange on the record’s surface.

      I go to a small teardrop camper caravan a short distance away. (It is similar to the image, but its door faces the trailer hitch, and there are two sliding windows on each side.) I want to lie down inside it to rest, but I have to move several clusters of full beer cans that are on plastic yokes. (I have hardly ever drunk beer in my lifetime.) I eventually clear an area through the middle where my body fits, my head at the back. I open a sliding window a short distance, pulling it to the left, above my left, and appreciate the coolness of the fresh air flowing through the screen.

      Eventually, the little caravan starts moving. It is daylight now. Looking through the doorway, I see my brother-in-law Bob and my sister Marilyn in the front seat of a car that is pulling the trailer. (They are both deceased, but my dream self does not remember that.) Marilyn looks at Bob (who is driving), telling him that he forgot to unhitch the trailer, and she acknowledges me by looking back. Even so, he continues to drive to the Loomis Street house. I vividly feel the movement, especially as the car goes up a ramp to an overpass. When he drives near three semi-trailer trucks (on the right) that are emitting black smoke, I unhitch the trailer with bodily movement and mentally “drive” it down a different street, now while sitting up in its center. I consider this is legal, as there is a license plate at the back. Even though the caravan only has one pair of wheels, I successfully “drive” it to the Enchanted Forest (a fictitious recurring location in my dreams since childhood, though always different).

      I follow a boy down a hallway that opens into one section of the forest that is now part of a resort. There is an enclosed area with small monkeys and an eohippus (miniature prehistoric horse) here and there. One eohippus is lying on its left side (as I am in reality). I wonder if it is alive. The monkeys are only about eight inches tall. I pet a few of them.

      I instinctually vivify and sustain my dream by walking on the fence of the enclosure (a dream enhancement routine since childhood), increasing vestibular-cerebral perceptual integration. I look down to my left at a car with its doors open, wondering if the people think I am intruding upon their privacy. After I practice balancing for a few minutes, I jump back down into the animal enclosure.

      I discuss the Enchanted Forest with Locke, Sawyer, and Jack from the “Lost” television series. I describe a false memory regarding Jack driving me through an area of the region, which took a couple of days, being that it was of a different dimension that the rest of the resort. I tell them that one section is infinite.

      I call them over to look at a beautiful lake after going into “another world” through a door. We gaze at the extraordinary beauty. Several tourists are around, also appreciating the sight. I see a few small fish below the surface of the water and try to perceive more. The vividness and detail are unfathomable.

      After several minutes of appreciation, my dream begins to transition again to an instinctual awareness of my body being horizontal in bed, as well as a need to initiate waking (for me to get up and use the bathroom). As a result, I try to open a couple of bathroom doors, but Locke yells about needing to elude someone. It is Rowena King from “Emergence.” We all rapidly crawl on our bellies as does she, though she remains about ten feet behind us. We all crawl quickly on white sand underneath the underside of an unfinished building’s floor as I wake.


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