lucid

Night of January 10, 1991. Thursday.

Dream Number 47,590 (original system). Optimized 1 minute 45 second read.



Waking-Life Factors Underlying this Dreaming Experience:

I had slept about 15 hours, the longest I ever slept in my life. It was a cold evening, and I had felt unwell. I wrapped myself in blankets and slept on the floor of the northwest corner of the sun parlor of the Loomis Street house in La Crosse, Wisconsin. My head was northward. I was sleeping on my left side in a fetal position.

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Dream Content:

I stand near the doorway in the bathroom of the Cubitis house. There is not much light (at first) other than a soft yellowish glow from outside via the small window, but it seems to be nighttime. Several unknown people are standing around, and their attention is on an unfamiliar man on a motorcycle. He readies himself to perform a stunt.

The motorcycle turns slightly, moving from its orientation toward the toilet to being in line with the window, its headlight brightening. The motorcycle rises into the air with a soft mechanical humming, going toward the window, simultaneously "shrinking" (caused by distorted distance perception) as I wake with a need to use the bathroom.

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CAUSATION (not "interpretation"):

With this familiar dream type, imaginary kinesthesia (vivid but illusory movement and motion) begins because of vestibular phasing, caused by emerging from REM atonia (solely a result of REM sleep). (All dreams in this mode result from vestibular phasing during emergence from REM atonia but with slightly different narrative types.) This association results in imagining my dream body as a vehicle to compensate for the illusion of vestibular phasing. (There are thousands of matching examples of this process in my online journal.)

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Virtual Amnesia and Dream Errors:

A motorcycle would never have fit in the small Cubitis bathroom. The bathroom window was too small and too high for a child to climb through. I am in the Cubitis house to prevent associating the dream state with real life. (An imaginary bathroom while sleeping is useless.)

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USE YOUR BRAIN:

Try to grasp the reason the motorcycle first aimed toward the toilet but with the outcome that it left my dream's imaginary setting through the window despite the surreal (and nonsensical) implication because of my attention vacillating from dreaming to waking out of a biological need. The crowd (lack of privacy) was a secondary factor in making my dream's imaginary bathroom unusable.

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Morning of October 8, 1990. Monday.



Three different postal addresses represented (over time) my childhood home in Cubitis in reality. There was was the original “General Delivery” where you claimed your mail at the post office by name only, without any identification. It was a small town, so I guess people trusted each other for the most part, although it was probably more realistic to say you were known by all (to a point). After this, we had “PO Box 29” at the post office. Finally, it was “Rural Route 4 Box 504”, established by a mailbox across the highway in front of Karen and Kenny’s house. I am “sorting” these memories out in my mind and moving into a different “realm” - “living in Cubitis in-dream” even though I was living in La Crosse at this time.

Finally I settle on some sort of “new” connection with Brenda W. I had not seen her in reality since 1977. This was before I had done extensive dream work and discovered overwhelming evidence that Brenda W was, since early childhood, a “stand-in” archetype for my real wife-to-be, who was also typically represented by an implied tulpa or “imaginary girlfriend” (with every single unlikely aspect matching my wife-to-be exactly including the mixed Magyarorszagi Romak and Australian accent and heritage - the only girl I have ever directly known with this mix - though I am sure there are many others in the world). I am not entirely sure why Brenda W was “selected” (by who knows what forces in the universe) to be the “stand-in”. There was not that much of a resemblance, really, other than dark, somewhat curly hair and a loose association (on Brenda’s part) with Roma (or Hungarian gypsy) culture. Brenda was not Roma.

There is a lot to consider - and it is a challenge to augment one’s attention towards several thousand dreams of a particular nature. Ever since I broke through into my realization of the “paranormal” (for lack of a better or more suitable term) nature of my life since birth with far more remote viewing and precognitive perspectives (eventually, even while awake) than not (as well as the continuous meaningful synchronicity), it has put me into a rather “unusual” life path (by typical mainstream perspective only - I no longer seriously associate the unexplained as unusual) as well as in regard to my continuous bafflement with humanity itself (which I consider far more unexplainable than the so-called paranormal). Before the “Blue Sun” dream, I could still ponder if Brenda had become a stand-in for my “imaginary” wife-to-be (that was validated to be real about six months from this dream) due to a (lesser or forgotten) conscious choice - simply to “fill the gap”. My “mystery girl” however, turned out to be real.

In my dream, there is one scene where I see an adult Brenda W (or who I assume to be her as I had never seen her as an older adult) at the end of a checkout at Tinsley’s IGA. She smiles at me and I am aware that she is a poet and that we are apparently crossing paths again for whatever reason. (Brenda never really wrote poetry, though my wife is a published poet.) There are remembered lines in my own unfolding in-dream poem (not in any competition with her poetry but more like some sort of ode), one being “like blue lightning from your fingertips” which is directly relevant to Brenda somehow, seemingly related to her emotions and my memory. Reflecting on this line from the (fictional) poem seems to resonate with the real-life memory of when we played around with static electricity where you shuffle along and then touch someone to create the larger bolt of static “lightning” which more often than not is slightly painful. In my dreams, this effect came to be far more pronounced and was not painful and at times seemed more related to spirituality, even healing, than solely a physical effect.

In the last scene of my dream, I walk out into my backyard in Cubitis and notice a huge blue sun in the sky, to the east. In this particular dream, it is several times bigger than the real sun (though it is not implied to be hotter in-dream). It seems almost like a dominant spiritual force and “blessing” of some kind from the universe itself and I feel very enriched and optimistic at this point. I seem to be the only one around at the time. I wake in near-ecstasy with the “blue sun” pulsating in my left eye - and I still see it to this day, usually only when awake and more alert, and it always brings an astoundingly peaceful essence. (Other people who have experienced this call it the “blue dot”, Blue Pearl, or “blue angel” though I now see it as the primary foundation of the Merkaba, which eventually begins to rotate in a cone shape.)

This had interesting real-life continuity, though there were a number of other dreams that far more clearly defined what was coming in my life to an extent that was far more dominant than most earlier experiences (other than perhaps M’s death). I eventually learned the “mystery girl” aka “imaginary girl” was a real person and she became my wife, first making contact in March 1991.

After my blue sun dream, and without having mentioned it, my brother-in-law Bob looked startled in the living room one day, claiming he saw a “blue flame” around my head and shoulders. This is especially curious since he had never said anything remotely like that in the past - and in addition - he could not have known of my dream, and there is also the fact that he never had the slightest interest in unexplained events or cared anything at all about dreams prior to that. His life was mostly factory work, television, and fishing, and little else - and he also could not read.

Again, to this day, I still see the “blue sun” when awake, in the left field of my vision. Sometimes it is bright enough to “cancel” my real sight (and leave a whitish afterglow), but more often it is like a fleeting single blue “pulse” about the size of a star (though does sometimes repeat a few times at various “distances” and “magnitudes”) - it always brings a blissful sensation and has never been connected with anything negative. It seems directly related to some forms of telepathy and precognitive awareness. Again, I have learned that other people have experienced this, all with similar associations, and I have grown to call it “The Blue Pearl” as some others have.

As written of before, its first main appearance was as a “blue flame” around Susan R, but this was mostly an isolated event. This was the dream where I “went off with Brenda W instead - to the east”. It does seem part of the “eternity bridge” association I had recently written extensively on. In the long run, it seems to be linked with a “higher dimension” that many are not aware of. The two more “extreme” experiences with it while awake was one where it transformed into two somewhat pyramidic “blue tornadoes” (one inverted over the other and turning in the opposite direction, curiously demonstrating the Coriolis effect and the fact my wife and I grew up in opposite hemispheres by both north/south and east/west references) and the other was like suddenly seeing a “giant paramecium” with the hypnopompic-like tank-tread effect - which was the “closest” it had ever been.

Seeing this light or “flash” is not like seeing something in front of me. It is, in fact, like seeing a reflection of something that is behind me or more specifically within my mind in the reversed holographic reflection of the environment. The “blue tornadoes” event was seemingly triggered by just touching my wife on the arm. The essence of the Source is a true mystery - something that has remained primarily unchanged and which others have noted, though I still cannot say what the mechanism behind it is.

Night of August 15, 1990. Wednesday.



Prior to contacting my wife-to-be for the very first time in waking reality, I had a very vivid dream of two comets orbiting each other in a very close spiral pattern and becoming the Yin Yang symbol for a time. The feeling of Fall/Autumn seems slightly enhanced. The pattern of the two “comets” eventually turned into a Paisley design after moving apart again. I am also aware of one-half of the Yin-Yang symbol floating out over the ocean (seemingly from another country far away), like a sort of intelligently guided swirl - and I feel a sense of peace. It moves in a circle, but at times becomes comet-like again - leaving a trail of subtle sparks and brilliant wavy lines.

After several minutes, the swirling light becomes of human form and “lands” on the shore, near the ocean. (The original objects appeared to come to me from the south.)

It turned into a girl named Amelia (wearing a Paisley dress) possibly of about seven to nine years of age (no older than twelve), standing on rocks a bit out from the shore. I “knew” she was my future daughter Amelia (in complete contrast to when my “mystery girl”, that is, Zsuzsanna, appeared in a dream). She is seemingly wearing an old-fashioned dress with a blue and gold flower design.

There is also a curious feeling of peace and assurance that seems to be coming from some sort of “superior force” (of nature?).

The Paisley design represents another subtle form of the Yin Yang symbol for me. This was a fairly common “pre-anniversary” dream, where the date prior to the precognitive link matches (in this case, my real daughter’s birthday). My wife-to-be, without any clues or cues from me, told me that she liked the name “Amelia” and thus we decided on this as a first name before we even met.

Morning of October 19, 1989. Thursday.



In this dream, I become lucid, though my awareness shifts at times, though I remain in my dream without RAS modulation kicking in. It is near a wharf (the usual water induction factor), likely near the Black River in La Crosse. I am developing an attempt to meet and be romantic and sensual with my “mystery girl” (the long-term precognitive rendering of Zsuzsanna years before we met) who is in a lighter-colored ballroom gown (though she vanishes during the spinning fiasco).

I lucidly focus on the idea of “spinning”, which is something I read about at least once during this time period and I simply take it to mean to move about (or whirl about) on one’s (vertical) axis. Even so, when I am on the wharf, I start to will myself to spin around like a whirlwind. Over time, this does make me a little more aware (mostly due to vestibular system dynamics), but not by much. I begin to see patterns that resemble comic-book-like lines that usually represent tornadoes and whirlwinds. After a time, I see objects moving around me as if I were an anthropomorphic miniature tornado with random objects orbiting me as with a planet. I even notice an upright piano moving in a circle around me - though it begins to look like a cartoon - even with animated music notes also being “trapped” in my whirlwind and tumbling about.

After several minutes, mostly only the head of the Disney character Pete (also called Peg-Leg Pete and Big Bad Pete among other names) appears. I do not really feel threatened. In fact, I start to contemplate a possible conversation with him (almost forgetting that I am dreaming), but Mickey Mouse and Goofy eventually appear in this faux tornado (only the three characters in total - I am not aware of any others - and Pete is actually the most distant from the other two) while more distortion ensues until I wake with abstract thoughts. That was the last time I attempted the so-called spinning technique. It is probably from seeing numerous animations of cartoon characters fighting (including cartoon cats), where “tornadoes” result and with fists and heads and such emerging at times at random angles.

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Morning of March 26, 1989. Sunday.

Dream #: 8,133-02. Reading time: 28 sec.



I find myself with actor Leonard Nimoy at a tennis court (possibly in La Crosse where I played tennis with my friend Rick from Chicago, but otherwise probably somewhere in California). We are playing a game of tennis at around ten o'clock in the morning. He is dressed informally in white shorts and a plain white t-shirt. Eventually, I start to feel strange. I cannot hold onto the tennis racket because my hand is becoming less tangible. Using my other hand works at times, but eventually, I start to fade. Leonard Nimoy looks at me curiously and with vague suspicion, but seems slightly amused as well. I feel bad about leaving the game unfinished as I wake.

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Night of January 1, 1989. Sunday.



I find myself wandering around in an unknown city, though of which is not very defined, walking from out of an alley, becoming more aware of my existence, though with only partial passive lucidity. It seems to be early evening, though there is not that much light. A low-lying mist, of which comes up halfway to my knees, drifts over some areas of the ground.

After perceiving a few unfamiliar people on the streets, I find myself in the presence of Columbo (the fictional TV detective played by Peter Falk). At first, I am somewhat wary of his presence (though I have no thoughts of having done anything wrong) but then I realize he is only puzzled by his surroundings and sees me as someone of whom he can ask directions. I do not recall all of the conversation but when I start to tell him where Fifth Avenue is after he asks, he holds his right hand up (as an indication for me to wait a minute) and takes out a yellow legal pad and pen from inside his rumpled beige trench coat.

Unexpectedly, a pigeon soon flies out from under his trench coat. He takes a step back and looks up, with a very puzzled visage, as it flies away. I feel very amused.

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dream processing dynamics; causes, and meanings:

the presence of mist is a factor of being in the dream state (as sometimes inferred and used as such in movies and stage plays)

reticular activating system mediation as vestibular system personification as Peter Falk as his fictional TV character detective Columbo because of being in the dream state as being “a mystery to solve”

liminal anticipation of the waking process causes transference of vestibular system correlation as a bird in flight (rather than the biologically induced sleep start)

Preconscious: Columbo, Emergent Consciousness Factor: flying pigeon, Dream Type: vestibular system correlation (bird in flight metaphor)

This is a unique transmutation of the “walking in a city and tripping, misstepping, or stepping off the curb and falling” dream, which has otherwise occurred on a nightly basis for over fifty years.

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Night of August 16, 1988. Tuesday.



This was a very long “search” dream that seemed to last all night. I was wandering around in La Crosse on the south side starting out near the King Street boarding house.

I was looking for General, my cat. He was a temporary pet that was a stray that showed up and which eventually left to go his own way (or someone else started feeding him more, or whatever the situation, as cats are not loyal, especially strays). I wander around on the streets and do not see any other people or cars. The cat General only makes a few appearances. I see him running down the street as well as seeing him sleeping in the middle of the street at one point (and there is a vague concern, but again, there is no traffic of any kind though I do question why cats do this in real life). There is a light mist in some areas at times.

I feel as if the search will never end. I end up going all the way to the northside of La Crosse and back again. At times, there seems to be more than one “version” of him in different areas of the neighborhood. Of course I need to find the “real” or “non-ghost” version. Although I wander about the streets for what seems like hours, there is no sense of tiredness and it seems to stay around eleven or twelve o'clock at night for nearly an entire day. My perception seems extraordinarily clear. At times, I seem to be floating without body, incorporeal, and then back to being in human form again, and I sometimes wonder if the cat is staying mostly in “spirit form” in a similar manner at times.

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Domestic cats are commonly a preconscious avatar as a “witness” to the dream state and the nature of liminal space.

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Morning of June 1, 1988. Friday.



This dream has very strange imagery and seems of the type where I am both disembodied as well as somehow “outside” my dream. I am apparently looking at a magazine (though it seems like a “real” scene as well, eventually), and focusing more and more on it. I see the “Dennis the Menace” character and he appears to be in a store, perhaps in preparation to look at or buy comic books, though his dog Ruff is also in the store and standing to his left (my right in perspective but a bit more in the foreground). I seem to be looking at a large colorful drawing or perhaps a sketchy oil painting by Hank Ketcham. (It somehow does not seem at all like part of a comic strip or comic book.)

The more closely I look over the scene, the more things seem “off” even though it seems “real”. Dennis the Menace has only one large eye on his forehead, which is somewhat dome-like and a sort of “sickly” brownish green. It may also be implied to be somewhat reflective (or mirror-like, though also “dirty” or murky). There are no other eye-like details, just the oval green “blob” on his forehead. This causes me to feel somewhat strange and out-of-place as if I am almost looking at something “wrongfully” otherworldly. I do not become lucid but begin to “understand” that everything is otherwise “normal” about this character’s drawing at this point in time. Prior to waking, it almost seems like the “real” Dennis may have been “taken over” by an alien threat (or at least as such relevant to semiconscious waking thoughts).

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Explanations for this dream are not all that diffciult to determine. Firstly, dreams typically have surreal and bizarre imagery, often incidental, so this could just be a “glitch” as such. However, it could also be a play on the “third eye”. Dennis is not a real character, which could reflect the “unreal” dream state. The “eye” could also represent a “portal” (that is, the return to waking reality as my dream “melts” into one color and with less detail). Because of the color it may relate to looking down into the ground.

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The “Dennis the Menace” comic panel prior to this date was a gag where he said “Guess what, mom! All the mirrors in the house look like ME!” - which may have vaguely influenced my dream on one level (and the one on this date - not yet seen at the time - having him ask Mr. Wilson, who is digging, “Who buries the worms here in the first place?” - nothing I know of relating to any “explanation” for this imagery other than the eye being partly mirror-like relating to a meditation I had been doing). I also had read many of the “Dennis the Menace” digests when younger but this is the only significant dream of this nature ever documented.

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Update: On this date in 2001 (exactly 13 years after this dream), Hank Ketcham passed away. This makes both my dream and his own comic panel published on this date in 1988 seem a bit eerie (no disrespect intended).

Morning of April 3, 1988. Sunday. Easter Sunday.



CS and her daughter NS are at my sister Marilyn’s house on Loomis Street. It involves the appearance of the “Anti-Easter Bunny”. It is fairly large and black and actually seems to have a “dark” and somewhat menacing presence in my dream (yet does not directly threaten or attempt to harm me or anyone else in any way). It appears on the dining room table, but moves about in a couple other locations in the house. My sister is also there. There is no actual fear, though, just a sense of awe and eeriness and an unusual awareness of something other than my own existence or in-dream awareness. It does seem like an external presence from outside my dream, as I am semi-lucid and eventually lucid, but no drama ensues. I get the awareness that its ears have the essence of larger bat wings (though they do not look like bat wings) and there is the essence of the hooves of a horse in sound and movement somehow, supposedly when it moves or “teleports” elsewhere. Again, it does not come near me in any threatening sense, but appears a few times.

Curiously, NS said that she had the same dream around the same time (with no indications or cues of any kind) and she said that she “threw a jelly bean at it and it disappeared”.

Morning of February 13, 1988. Saturday.

Dream #: 7,726-02. Optimized 1 min 15 sec read.

I find myself in the backyard of an unfamiliar house I associate with being in Southside La Crosse, possibly southwest of the King Street mansion. (It may be on Cass Street though its front is never visible.) It is late morning. Through a window more on the right, I see a group of about five unfamiliar men who are all at least ten years older than me. They are wearing formal clothes in what seems to be a kitchen. I get the impression they are having a business meeting. My bicycle is leaning against the outer wall of a utility room to my left.

When the men come out, none of them seem to see me as a trespasser. I notice one cheerful man in a business suit who is now walking a bicycle not only identical to mine, but it is somehow the same one. I ask, feeling an increase in mental clarity (on the threshold of dream state recognition), “How is this possible?” He says, with a friendly tone and as if he knows me, “Parallel ground, Claude.” The men continue walking away to the right (when looking at the back of the house), presumably to use the private sidewalk adjacent to the house’s east side.

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Bicycles in my dreams are primarily vestibular system response indicators with literal correlations (chiefly imaginary kinesthesia that exponentially vivifies and sustains a dreaming experience the longer I focus on my activity) unrelated to symbolism. In this dream, however, I do not utilize imaginary kinesthesia by riding a bicycle.

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What does “parallel ground” mean? Here, it is a declaration from my protoconsciousness or personified preconsciousness at the threshold of my waking. The term occurs in electronics, so there may also be a reference to the mentation of dreaming and mind-body reconnectivity. It may also originate from the duality of dreaming and metacognitive dreaming as a whole.

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Morning of October 30, 1987. Friday.



My dream’s title is based on having been a fan of Marvel’s “Werewolf by Night” comic book (the original series).

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I have had similar dreams as this where I am able to focus on my hands and grow claws and feel very vivid sensations of their emergence from my fingers, even though this dream is not fully lucid, as I know things are “different” yet I do not fully associate the state with being in a dream (but I do recognize its unrealistic nature). My dream colored my mood in a very lighthearted and positive way. I believe my name as a werewolf is “Sawtooth”. My becoming a werewolf is fully determined by my own cheerful desire to and not a result of the full moon’s influence. I am also aware of wolf canines growing but this is not uncomfortable, though I do clearly feel changes and pressure in that area (through semi-lucid threads of intent at one point).

The ending of my dream provides a strong state of happiness and an augmented sense of freedom, primarily freedom from the negative aspects of human society. I have become half-wolf, half-man, but I am still running upright like a human, to the southwest. It is about ten o'clock in the morning. Not that far away, to the south, my target is a very dense (fictional) forest, the trees seemingly only a few feet apart at least on the perimeter. It would otherwise be located about two blocks south of my older sister Marilyn’s house. I am blissful about living in the deep dark forest. Even though it is late morning prior to twelve, with no full moon anywhere - and in fact the sun is shining, I hear the howls of fellow werewolves from within the woods, and although there seems like twenty or so, I never see another werewolf in my dream. I still feel a strange seemingly serious kinship, even though the overall dream at this point is quite silly. There is a very cheerful, positive feeling, although I feel as if I will somehow completely “lose” myself upon entering the forest (not in a negative sense; more like being a playful child again, free as I was in the woods of Chipmunk Coulee before I went to public school), which is to be my home from then on. However, I awake before reaching the edge of the forest, the edge being east and west and almost perfectly straight across. Upon waking, in addition to general freedom, I realize that another aspect that was in the back of my dream self’s mind, is freedom from the expectations of others.

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The main influence here was “I Was a Middle Aged Werewolf” (even though I was young at the time of this dream), a “Highway to Heaven” episode, where the angel played by Michael Landon (who was born on Halloween in 1936) was also in “I Was a Teenage Werewolf” from 1957.

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Morning of April 5, 1986. Saturday.



I had apparently been “sleeping” or resting in my dream in an unfamiliar room, but which is like a composite of the front (northeast) first floor bedroom on Loomis Street and seemingly a hotel room that is on a higher floor (at the same height the airplane is flying). I become aware of a very loud percussive sound, which gets clearer and clearer and seems to be getting closer to where I am. (I am unsure if this dream event was caused by real-life noise.) Looking out the window (implied to be a fictional window open to the north when using the layout of the familiar Loomis Street bedroom), I see that it is a 1940s military aircraft of a greenish gray color (which resembles a Grumman F8F Bearcat) that seems to be shooting at something (though I perceive that it is apparently present time in my dream, not the 1940s) and there are associations with Tripoli or Tipperary. Even though it is heading for the building I am in, even seemingly shooting in my direction, it does not crash or pose any actual threat now or later. I am not sure what happens to it after this as my dream shifts to where I am then outside. I assume that there is a small war going on in the region, though I am not clear on the location. There is confusion with Germany and Turkey as well as Libya and vague terrorist associations. Logically, it is probably meant to be the Middle East.

Later, I am standing outside, still seemingly in present time. I am one of the first people in a line of several hostages, which includes mostly older men and women. I am soon well aware that I am not me, though. Instead, I seem to be a much older male civilian or at least occupying his body somehow, perhaps a journalist. A hostile male facing the line, seemingly in charge, and holding an AK-47 or similar, is possibly going to shoot us all, though this is uncertain. At this time, I feel a strange vivid sense of both fear and growing relief and quickly rise up out of this character as if I was only inhabiting his body temporarily and do not want to be him if he is killed (which seems impending at this point). I rise higher and higher, looking down on the scene which includes bombed-out buildings. Meanwhile, I feel as if I somehow legitimately had been in this situation but am now escaping and “returning” to my own body, the presumed possibility of this remaining in fleeting conscious afterthought.

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Night of November 8, 1985. Friday.

Dream #: 6,899-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



Vestibular stage: I feel as if I am in a southwest area of La Crosse, possibly near Third Street, but my dream’s rendering is erroneous. I am riding my bicycle, probably past midnight, through a mist with an eerie glow. I had not seen any other traffic.

I am enjoying myself. I pedal faster and faster even though I cannot see what is ahead of me, though I am vaguely aware I am dreaming. At one point, I am moving fast through an alley, heading west. Suddenly, I see another vehicle approaching from the north as I am exiting into an open area that seems adjacent to a small parking lot to the north as well as an intersection. My dream becomes more vivid, though the certainty I am dreaming increases only in the last few seconds.

Preconscious emergence (as authoritative): The vehicle is a small motorcycle with a police officer riding it. I cannot see his eyes because he is wearing dark sunglasses (an indicator that I am sleeping) or a face shield under a light-colored helmet, though I can see his mouth, which has no expression. I suddenly slow down so as not to draw his attention with my speed, especially as it seems we might collide. Even though the scene is otherwise vivid and realistic, he and his motorcycle seem scaled down to about half the size they should be. I slowly approach the intersection as he continues south, to my left and beyond, without turning his head towards me at any point. I wake after he passes out of sight. (There was no vestibular drop, only a vague awareness of the process as the motorcycle crossed my path.)

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The intersection offers three choices. I can turn left to follow the motorcycle cop (which I technically do with the waking process), keep going (keep dreaming), or turn right with the implication of returning to slow-wave sleep (so-called dreamless sleep). (The direction options are atypical as I am otherwise on my left side when dreaming vividly, not my right.)

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One Christmas, my father bought me a toy remote control police motorcycle with an officer riding it. My dreaming experience rendered its nature as too small and of an artificial essence (though those aspects are common to dreams).

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Morning of July 6, 1985. Saturday.



Probably one of the most unusual clearer dreams I have had involved thinking I had awakened (in a very vivid “realistic” false awakening), only to find myself in persistent sleep paralysis (where I believe I actually did open my eyes at times). A box of Kraft macaroni and cheese (single serving) danced around in the air, screaming “Eat me! Eat me!” in a rather high-pitched raspy voice and it was shaking about like a loud rattle in my ears and face.

I feel great discomfort yet also feel the mildly pleasant body-wide tingling. I try to cover my head but it does not work very well. It seems to torment me for several minutes. As I finally begin to wake more fully, I notice a smaller moving silver engraving (like a photographic negative) of a heron and a bittern dressed up like elderly gentlemen (though the birds incorrectly rendered as being around the same size), with one in a top hat and the other in a derby, and with canes and fancy shoes, in a position moving away from near my door (King Street boarding house - the L-shaped room), on a table. Although they are implied to be walking westward, the imagery mostly remains in one area, as if I am seeing it on some sort of implied projection (as if on an unseen television otherwise).

As soon as I woke up, I went into the kitchen and cooked and ate that last box of macaroni and cheese. (Well…what would you have done?) I was not “starving” but I had regularly been eating a lot less at the time. I do get a vague impression at one point that the birds may be coming back from “celebrating the Fourth of July” in a partial or subtle anthropomorphic manner.

I have finally decoded the macaroni and spaghetti symbolism, I believe. It relates directly to the energies of the human brain (as a bowl of cooked macaroni and cheese resembles the brain to some extent). The box (in its potential but not utilized form) was trying to get me to appreciate the nature of using my brain in my state of sleep paralysis and the two birds represented my conscious and subconscious finding freedom in “walking together”.

Morning of April 6, 1985. Saturday.



I am sitting in cool water with my knees up, the level of the clear water about six inches down from my knees, though it is not completely gone by the end of the waking stage. A very large number of very small green frogs are present. They hop around on my knees and shoulders, making little chirping sounds. I hold some of them carefully know and then as they leap around.

Although the location is unknown, there is a vague sense of bilocation with my King Street bed (in the L-shaped apartment) which I discern as being in its real-life location). Still, I also seem to be in an outdoor area in an actual large pond. No one else is around. There is a very intense feeling of happiness as well as relaxation. I very slowly become lucid but only just prior to waking. It is almost like taking a morning bath outside.

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Although this is a typical water induction (most common induction factor since early childhood), the frogs are possibly just incidental since I associate them with water. However, they would still be on the upper end of the dreaming stage, more so than a fish, which represents the downgrading of conscious self identity in being less active in being unconscious (asleep). This dream though, is very vivid, so the tiny frogs, which are very active, probably relate (in real time) to neuron activity and dawning awareness in coming out of sleep (whereas tadpoles and fish would be more relevant to the dynamics of the temporary dream self identity).

Water symbolizes sleep and the dynamics of sleep in real time. As such, a beach or shore of a lake (and similar locations) is the liminal space between sleep (water) and the more viable land or waking life beyond the beach. The clarity and depth of the water relate directly to circadian rhythm factors and real time sleep dynamics, something I was already aware of at age four from dreams such as “The Angler” (1965).

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