lucid

Early evening of March 16, 2017. Thursday.



I am viewing a beautiful intricate scene that looks much like an animated embroidery scene in a light blue silvery monochrome. It mainly features a peacock, but there is also a large bell that hangs down from the center of a mirrored branch and vine pattern.

The peacock climbs down, eventually becoming upside-down, and crawls into the bell.

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This is very straightforward. The embroidery is of the type I saw on pillowcases when young, so there is the dream sign, then the return flight metaphor activates with a bell as the waking prompt. Although it decodes into solely dreaming and waking transition metaphors, it is unique and new (as well as with beautiful imagery).

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Update: Zsuzsanna was buying a couple second-hand embroidery books at the time of my dream, certainly not something she does on any regular basis, and there was no way I could have known.

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Morning of March 10, 2017. Friday.



I am swimming under the ocean (and I can breathe underwater as in many previous dreams since early childhood). I am near the ocean bottom. The imagery is beautiful. A shark swims toward me but turns and swims to my left as we move past each other and I am not threatened or even acknowledged in any way. There are other fish, including sharks, here and there.

I soon notice a submerged bus on the ocean floor. It appears to be empty but I decide to explore. Eventually, covering the bus, is what I assume to be long equidistant strands of some sort of seaweed, and yet oddly, it looks more like green Christmas tinsel garlands arranged vertically around the perimeter of the bus, each about a foot apart. They sway with the ocean current and actually seem to “reach out” at times. They establish a sense of joy though I remain puzzled about this seeming setting distortion.

Curiously, my dream temporarily becomes a dream within a dream, of viewing sparkling Christmas ornaments and swaying garlands. I seem to circle intricately decorated Christmas trees and look deep within their branches and feel intense joy. Soon though, I am back under the ocean in the original setting.

I swim into the bus through the open doors at the front right side. The driver’s seat is empty and it looks like the whole bus may be empty. I swim towards the back. I notice a human body (female) wrapped up in transparent plastic, in a middle seat on the right, wrapped with a cord around the middle. For a short time, a potential (flight symbol) waking prompt distorts the scene and the inside of the bus seems more like the inside of an airplane where men would line up on each side to be ready to parachute (and all the singular one-person seats face outwards now instead of towards the front of the bus). I try to focus more and the bus temporarily becomes a separating construct of giant ribs after an impression of thin white splitting plastic, pieces of the seats floating outwards and upwards. However, I am soon back in the original setting.

I look at the girl’s face through the plastic. She is unfamiliar but alive. Her eyes glow brightly as she smiles. There is something I do with my mind that I do not recall ever doing before (which also occurred in another dream of this date). I think it has something to do with a dream of May 18, 2015 (“Unusual Bird”), except in that dream, I was watching the event happening to someone else from a distance. It has something to do with deliberately superimposing the essence of your face onto a dream character’s face (almost like forcing a three-dimensional “mirror” around the person’s head, yet internally and externally at the same time). There is an extraordinary sensation and skewed awareness that cannot be accurately described. (I also get a vague impression that this may be the supposed “new” entity or “contact” from a few other dreams.)

For a moment, her head becomes that of a shark (though somewhat anthropomorphic as it looks directly outward from the otherwise vertical body), but changes back, seemingly implying a playful sense to demonstrate an ability to quickly change. I carry her out of the bus (though still with the plastic around her) and swim up to an underwater cliff. Perhaps she is a shark but I still think she should be rescued. I carry her over my left shoulder as I swim.

From here, there is intense and vivid fractal imagery which flashes and turns. I am still seemingly underwater though and continue to “swim” through the surreal patterns. I also see flashing Mandelbrot patterns.

I watch an orange octopus (which seems ambiguously entwined within the spiraling fractal imagery for a time). There is more than one at times. Looking from underneath the octopus at one point, I get the impression of a billowing and waving skirt, which temporary becomes such an image for a short time. The octopus imagery is very detailed and correct at first. However, there is one point where I see an “octopus” that seems to have virtually endless tentacles. It sits on the cliff.

My dream shifts into more fractal images and impressions of the shiny patterns inside oyster shells.

As I wake, I experience the most unusual hypnic jerk I have ever had. It feels like numerous small tendrils of electricity grabbing my foot and lower leg and lifting it up. My entire leg moves upward as I wake before it drops back onto our bed. (I had been sleeping in a position where part of my right side and much of my stomach is on the mattress.) Typically, hypnic jerks and other waking muscle movement (other than my nightly back spasm) are not this sustained (though my leg usually does jump a bit) and I do not recall feeling individual tendrils of energy “grabbing me” or “attempting to lift me” like this before. It was very strange and interesting…and something new and appreciated (regardless of it being somewhat startling, although because the effect is similar to a dream I had in America where the energy of Zsuzsanna’s essence was fully felt upon me, it did seem external - though I am not sure of the source - if it was Zsuzsanna, who was sleeping near me at the time, I do not recall her “sending” this way before).

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Morning of January 8, 2017. Sunday.



I shift into the clarity of the opening scene of my first dream of the cycle. It is the typical water induction. I find myself driving down a street in an unfamiliar location. There is firstly a sense that it may be near the ocean though this association changes after a short time. It seems to be early afternoon.

The street is lightly flooded and it is raining, but the rain stops eventually. I look to my left wondering if Zsuzsanna will appear for a blissful connection. After a time, there are small geyser-like formations that rise from the surface of the water. Eventually, I even see what appears to be a palm tree made of upwards flowing water to my left, on or near the boulevard.

Even though I have at least one dream of this nature every night, I am only documenting this one due to it having an atypical feature of the palm tree made of flowing water.

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Water symbolizes sleep and the real-time dynamics of sleep and has always been my most common form of dream state induction. In fact, I often hear the (hypnagogic) sound of water flowing when not even fully asleep yet (sometimes natural settings, sometimes related to bathrooms or showers). (Not only that, if I am listening to a recording while falling asleep, I hear a hypnagogic “gloop” sound at various pitches and distances, which sounds much like a pebble breaking the surface of a body of water. This has been the case for over fifty years and directly translates as sleep induction being slightly disrupted by real-life audio.) It stems from the fact that a person spends the first ninth months of their existence sleeping within “water” (perceived as such) and is also related to circadian rhythms and tidal factors (or at least the analogy of tidal factors - as water getting lower over time is a common waking transition for me). Clear water would relate to being more within the natural sleep cycle. Muddy water relates to outer ranges of the sleep cycle, as I discovered as a child. It is probably the most consistent and “reliable” dream feature I have ever experienced.

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Dream #NYMC53

Morning of January 1, 2017. Sunday.

Reading time: 50 sec. Readability score: 80.



I first focus on a big eagle when I am within a tunnel in a cavern, looking out through the entrance when farther inside. It seems to be an influence from making an image from a 1968 dream that had a giant bird that resembles an eagle. It seems to fly towards the entrance yet the distance does not seem to change.

I see a clear pool of water. Something that looks like a snake is swimming in the water, but it soon seems to be a belt somehow moving on its own. Eventually, there seem to be at least a dozen identical venomous serpents that I have no concern about in my lucidity. They are like small coral snakes. They slither in and out of porous rocks. I am eventually aware of Zsuzsanna.

There is a scene where I see an unknown young girl in a plaid dress (yellows and greens). Down past her knees, she seems to be growing out of another girl, and that girl, in turn, grew out of another, and still another. The fourth girl is lying on the cavern floor. They all seem cheerful. This “human tree” reminds me vaguely of a scene from George Harrison’s “When We Was Fab” music video from 1987.

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Dream #NYMB53.

Morning of January 1, 2017. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 28 sec. Readability score: 68.



My dream starts out with a typical water induction state (the most common beginning since early childhood as water symbolizes sleep and its dynamics in real time) and eventually becomes an area near a boat dock. It is in an unknown area near the ocean and seems to be late morning. I walk around as if perhaps looking for a boat to buy. Most are small motorboats. I look more closely at one near the outer wall of a commercial building.

Someone says “seven thousand dollars” loudly and clearly, but I think he might be talking to someone else who is looking around at the boats (though this is not certain).

I am sitting in a tavern. A person is sitting near me, and he or she turns to look at me. They are wearing a baggy cloth cat mask that covers their head. It is a pale yellowish cream color and almost seems like finer burlap in texture. It does not look quite right as if their head may be too small or perhaps slightly misshapen. I do not perceive any threat or sense of danger. I consider making an amusingly rude remark, but I do not. There is a sudden clear sound seemingly about five feet away that may be a bottle falling off a shelf.

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It was part of a sequence of about twenty different scenes, but these are the clearer and stabler parts. It stems from the kind where I watch hundreds of settings rapidly change like a slideshow, eventually slowing down and stabilizing. Sometimes I deliberately step into a setting. Other times I let it expand around me, and I am within my illusory dream body.

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A cat, though not a real cat here, is a witness to the dream state and a factor of circadian rhythms (associated with night). Being only a cat mask implies my dream is losing cohesion, but it is also a coalescence factor of the emerging consciousness that the color yellow also represents. It is also reminiscent of a scarecrow, a dynamic of physicality being inactive as is one when sleeping. It is also like having a pillowcase over one’s head. The bottle falling was the waking prompt.

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Morning of November 13, 2016. Sunday.



I find myself in an unknown and unfamiliar area but which is near a public venue. An older male of about sixty is standing near the curb and preaching. He talks about the nature of God as if he is some sort of messenger. However, he seems very mundane and yet also very artificial-sounding, uneducated, and bland in his claims.

Over time, he mostly goes on and on about how he sweats for God. He makes the claim that only people who are chosen by God can sweat large amounts of sugar. At different points, sugar falls from his arms as he performs his sermons. After a time, I get very annoyed and tell him how a person cannot sweat large amounts of sugar crystals from their body. This makes him even more confident about his apparent mission.

For a time, he walks around on his hands. As he does, very large sugar crystals seem to fall from his arms and legs. However, I am aware that, when looking closer, they are just coming from the creases in his clothes. He does not seem to be sweating at all. Still, the sense of the continuous falling of the sugar and the motions of the cloth is very vivid.

My wife Zsuzsanna comes up to me and, since I have had enough of the “preacher”, we walk from the curb to some sort of commercial building. The hand of an unknown unseen female comes out from a dark doorway of a business and hands me a business card. They seem sincere in their approach and seem to understand that I know the preacher is just an irritating fake. However, I am aware the business promotes New Age concepts relating to finding out what one’s past life or alien contact is and thus is also nonsense. Even though I do not need the service of this business, I accept the card without being rude.

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There is possibly an association with “sugar-coated lies”, though there was an obvious influence from a song I like, “Climb the Hill” by the Fixx, with “To me you’re inside out and upside-down” and “Bible thump posturing won’t turn me ‘round”. It is also unfortunately based on a mentally ill male who used to write mindless lies about me (and other posters) on a dream journal site and his own website. I would not even know where to begin with his nonsense. He writes compilations of his “beautiful art” related to his abuse, falsehoods, and stalking of other dream journalists under the “guidance of God”, while pretending to be a man from the future praising himself, and that is only a small part of it.

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Morning of November 11, 2016. Friday.



I find myself on a beach in daylight but possibly towards early evening. In the first segment of my dream, there is a focus on a blue kite that is near the shore but over the ocean. Who it belongs to is undetermined. The end of the string is apparently caught in some large jagged rocks and cannot be reached. I decide that it might be mine, although that may not matter since I do not see anyone attempting to retrieve the reel. Still, my “mission” seems to be to get the kite.

While standing near the rocky area I look back and notice an allosaurus in a doorway. The size orientation does not make sense as I get the impression it is a normal doorway (even though it is out of scale relative to distance), yet the allosaurus is also supposedly large. It looks like a model of one, such as the one from “Land of the Lost” (1970s television series) but is “walking” against an invisible barrier so that with every step forward it sort of slides back. It is almost comical. I do not want to miss out on my kite retrieval but I also do not want to be caught by surprise though I eventually decide it is no threat. The implications do not make much sense. The wall that the doorway is in seems incompletely rendered and not fully in the immediate setting, fading out around the top and ends.

Looking out towards the ocean, and at the same level of the blue kite (and to the left of it by about ten feet perhaps) I see a small man with wings wearing only a dhoti. He is very quickly (to an unrealistic extent) scribbling random unfamiliar symbols (except for a spiral) onto his chest and wings. I notice most of the supposed writing continuously falls off (which of course is not really that logical), becoming ash or ash-like. I feel a sense of both amusement and puzzlement.

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Morning of November 9, 2016. Wednesday.



I find myself standing in an unknown mostly featureless room as I have just shifted into the beginning of my lucid dream. I mostly find myself gazing at the blue sky through a closed sash window. (I am not sure of directional orientation. If it is implied to be our bedroom window I would be looking west.) An unrealistically large bird, but otherwise the kind called a kite, is seemingly flying directly towards the window.

Before the bird gets too close and crashes into the window, it slows down and becomes an actual white kite but is still moving down towards the window. Strangely though, the window still breaks (without the kite hitting it), glass flying inward, towards me. At this point, I experience the back spasm event and nearly go flying off our bed. (Ordinarily, back spasm dreams are a premonitory sequence where something seemingly jabs me in my back in physical hypnopompia, a recurring dream event from very early childhood. It does not seem as if this was the case this time, as the flying glass shards came from in front of me, although it was triggered by a sudden awareness of Zsuzsanna’s body behind mine as I was lightly sleeping on my right side. Still, the timing of the imagery was not correctly aligned with the physical event, which I find hilarious, like a movie that was incompetently dubbed.)

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A breaking window simply symbolizes dream cessation in real time (as does losing teeth, which also usually has no waking life meaning). (This metaphor is even used in the 1971 TV movie “The Deadly Dream”).

The imagery in this dream has a thread of prescience. Zsuzsanna had checked out “Tommy” from the library, which features a longer scene near the end with Tommy on a white hang glider that looks very much like a large white kite. I had no way of knowing she would be checking it out at this time.

Otherwise, kites, birds, airplanes, and virtually anything associated with flight or wings (including birds that cannot fly) are associated with the floating sensation typically experienced upon falling asleep. Over one in five of my dreams for over fifty years have had this dream state dynamic, but are always unique, and sometimes, as with this dream, contain literal prescience.

The “back jab” event is based on biology, and only happens in a particular stage of sleeping or waking as a result of spontaneous neural energy. It is completely unrelated to real life dynamics, just as the hypnopompic kick is (although the hypnopompic kick is more pronounced when I do more walking on a particular day).

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Morning of September 22, 2016. Thursday.



It seems to be late at night and I am walking with Zsuzsanna in an unfamiliar small town. Somehow I get distracted and find myself on my own in an area vaguely similar in some ways to an area near a church in Bundaberg (though I do not consider my location or have any concern about being in an unknown place). Even though I am not lucid I try to focus on a large stone water fountain as if I am subliminally aware of the nature of water induction to increase the depth and clarity of the dream state.

An unfamiliar priest approaches and seems to want me to move on or is there to tell me what to do as perhaps he does not like me being here so late at night. He tries to impress me by causing a moonbeam to create a glowing circle on the surface of the water. In a way, it seems rather eerie to me, though I vaguely recall it as a circadian rhythms factor (again, even though I am not lucid) and relative to moon or moonlight induction.

“So what,” I say. “I can make the sun come out in the middle of the night.” (I say this without realizing that the sun represents consciousness or the conscious identity within the dream state and thus I am actually talking about lucid dreaming without being lucid.) The area that the priest and I are standing now seems to be a storefront. I move my hands with a level of mental certainty and expectation that the sun will rise at my command, though again not being lucid at this point. Instead, a small sunbeam reaches my feet. At least I accomplished something based on my claim.

I decide to turn around and use whatever sunlight there is to mock the priest by making various shadow forms on the outer wall of the store. A circle of light (almost like a spotlight on a stage) of about a foot and a half in diameter appears on the concrete block outer wall. I lift my left hand up and make an incredibly realistic monkey shadow (after a few false starts with rabbit and dog heads), complete with legs, arms, and a tail, and moving about like a real monkey, almost as if suspended on its own. “Chee-chee-chee-chee,” I utter, happily making my version of a monkey sound. The priest seems to feel insulted as well as outdone by my miraculous abilities and thus he walks off. Even though I am still not at the lucid stage, shadow play is fairly common in certain vivid lucid dream types. Typically, the shadow symbolizes the dream self as “casting” conscious self identity into the dream state (at least when it is a human “duplicate” of the dream self though here, my dawning consciousness is apparently very playful), though this situation does not yet trigger my lucidity.

As I walk, the sun finally rises fully at my subtle command and with no “glitches”. As a result, my consciousness becomes more fully integrated into the dream state in a lucid sense, though not quite apex lucidity (full automatic control with enhanced senses and full body awareness even with full weight and momentum discernment). Just as I turn left around a corner I am at full conscious clarity, which I immediately find very thrilling. I notice a young version of Zsuzsanna (probably as she was a few years before we first wrote) standing on a garden wall of about four feet high, though I do not question this oddity. Several others (all unfamiliar) are standing around, possibly waiting for a bus. Zsuzsanna may also be waiting for the bus even being up on this wall. I hover and move up to stand on the wall with her. She does not seem to recognize me yet and takes on the essence of the preconscious personification.

“This is my dream, so we will get together and have some fun,” I boldly state. “I don’t care about these other people standing around.” She seems to slowly agree or at least lets me hug and kiss her passionately for a long time. Becoming more and more stimulated I indulge in various sensual events (the sense of touch augmented), though meanwhile, three times, for no particular reason, I decide to shoot large masses of spiderweb out of my right hand. One car becomes fully covered in my web, the imagery of which I find amusing when I look back. A couple people are swept back and stuck onto buildings but are not harmed.

Eventually, I notice a large unusual-looking airplane flying in the sky (from right to left). Its wings are up and back almost like a butterfly form and I feel a sense of beauty. Curiously, I do not mentally register it as the “return flight” waking transition symbol even though I have experienced the same metaphor thousands of times in various dream types (though not in the majority of lucid dreams). I notice a very unusual bookshelf-like structure on the other side of town and which seems to be atop a mountain. I focus on this. Although it vaguely reminds me of “Hollywood Squares”, the platforms (or seating areas) are at different levels. There are at least nine demigods in yellow Tibetan monk robes sitting and standing within the structure. I assume they are perhaps thirty feet tall or more. The visible forward edges of the skewed “Hollywood Squares” structure are mostly cream-colored, orange, and yellow. The demigods begin singing to Zsuzsanna and me very loudly and with love and happiness. The music is very clear and rhythmic and very enjoyable (though of an unfamiliar melody which I may record at a future date). They are singing something about tilling and gardening, something like, “In the morning when you wake up, till the soil with love…” and another phrase with “tilling” in it and something about “the next morning you will find”. It goes on for several minutes and as I hold Zsuzsanna, I slip into a less vivid and non-lucid false awakening as the airplane reaches the midpoint of my perspective, over the seemingly divine structure. (Of course, this structure symbolizes the sunrise and waking as non-lucid dreams typically do in the last segment - even though I am still semi-lucid - and a cheerful conscious coloring of my day ensues.)

In the false awakening I am with Zsuzsanna sitting on the floor of our present home. Our youngest son is present. He seems to have gathered seven unusual creatures (there are seven in our family). They seem to be some sort of unlikely composite of seashell, caterpillar, beetle, and chrysalis. For some reason, I point out to Zsuzsanna that they are “brains”, although I add to their number (starting with three, I think) as I notice more and more of them (though still a total of seven). Their shells are very complex in coloring, with mostly thin bands and paisley-like patterns of browns, yellows, and cream colors. There are two different shapes, the two largest being somewhat cylindrical and the others like trapezoidal prisms.

I look at a magazine page that Zsuzsanna is looking at. At first, I see the same airplane as from my previous dream, though as a silhouette in a full page sky photograph. As I tell Zsuzsanna about the dream I just had (the most common false awakening scenario for me other than actually attempting to write it out and soon seeing that my writing changes or that I had written nothing), I tell her how this looks just like the airplane from my dream. I find that unusual but when I look again, I see that it is an upside-down helicopter silhouette (a second “return flight” transition that actually represents my false awakening and how one of the first things I ever heard Zsuzsanna say on her first cassette which she mailed to me being “so if it sounds a bit upside-down, it’s from down-under), which I find rather curious - and from here I actually wake.

Morning of August 26, 2016. Friday.



My dream’s setting is a unique variation of our present home. There is an ambiguous perception of bilocation, though the essence of my primary environment is extraordinarily vivid. I seem to be in bed, yet I am also looking down to my right at what appears to be the open storage area in the bottom of the couch I slept on as a teenager. (The back of it dropped down for it to serve as a single bed.) This layout would not be possible in reality. It seems to be on the right side of our bed and perpendicular to it. The size orientation is wrong despite the amazing clarity. (Certainly, no couch would fit in the short distance from the right side of our bed to the wall.) It seems smaller than it should but my dream self accepts this feature.

Our youngest sons are present in the room. There is a small yellow snake of about a foot long that I consider as possibly venomous. It had somehow crawled inside the couch. The area is perceived as being about a foot below the top of our mattress. There is a horizontal section of the storage space that is slightly apart near the bottom that allows the snake to crawl out through it. I keep touching its head with a stick and it moves back into the narrow space. I feel confident that I can keep the snake at a distance. I use the stick to bump its head and it retreats about four times.

Eventually, it somehow jumps out from the area and hits my left shoulder fairly hard though does not bite me. It seems to vanish after this. It is so vivid that not only do I wake up slapping my shoulder in reality, I shuffle around a short time before I am fully awake.

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Specific colors in my dreams, when they dominate my focus of attention, sometimes correlate with an aspect of consciousness I am most aware of during the waking process. Yellow or gold often occurs where there is more perception of movement and emergent consciousness awareness that serves to dissolve the illusory nature of the dream state in activating viable consciousness. On the biological level, a snake dream of a more vivid and realistic rendering as this is often only reticular activating system modulation to more quickly alert the dreamer into waking up. Being biological autosymbolism as a derivative of RAS, there is no reason to force the pretense of waking life symbolism into such a dream, especially as it was a factor in making me aware that my left arm would have become numb had I slept in the position I was in any longer.

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Morning of July 27, 2016. Wednesday.



Even though I am fully lucid, I had entered a very skewed version of “When Wakes the Dreamer!” (first read around age twelve in 1973 in Eerie Magazine). My wife Zsuzsanna is outside talking with an unknown female. They are looking at the horizon at what are apparently unusual events related to the supposed HAARP (apparently closed in 2014) conspiracy. It also seems there may be some sort of military action but not as an imminent threat. San Francisco, as in the story, is “gone”. Misty “tendrils” of either smoke or cloud rise in the distance, some tongue-like.

As I am listening to Zsuzsanna and this unknown female speak, I look up at the nighttime sky and see a huge cloud. It looks much like a human face, mostly like Doug in a particular panel of “When Wakes the Dreamer!” though oddly in the negative (even though I do not recall seeing it in photographic negative at any time in my past). (The word balloon with the image had read “Just moments ago you said that I was aware of things that the mass media would never realize existed! Perhaps!”)

Still, Doug’s huge visage almost seems like pareidolia in the back of my mind (especially as seeing a face in the clouds is a common form of pareidolia - and even though it is a dream, I do not want to embarrass myself). I mostly stare in awe at the sky. I am not that concerned about the female of whom Zsuzsanna is talking to regarding the so-called HAARP weapon. I never draw their attention to this weird cloud at any point even though I consider doing so.

His “tongue” seems to extend and go up along the left side of his face almost to his “forehead” - which is almost like a separate vertical cylindrical cloud formation, not quite like a tornado, but becoming more like a giant pale vertical tomato worm cocoon (distorted by elongation and being rendered in photographic negative). Still, the more closely I stare at it, the more eerie (no pun intended) it appears.

If Doug is the dreamer of my dream, where does that leave me? Certainly it is not my face in the clouds. I find myself wandering through an alley and “returning” to our home, though it is a mostly unfamiliar residence still deemed to be ours.

I discover a package that looks much like a miniature pillow (obvious dream sign) which seems to be on our bed (another obvious dream sign). I am aware it contains a small amount of various organic herbs and seeds that we had ordered, which were quite expensive. However, when I go closer, everything starts popping out of the package, though each at a different time, such as maize flour (the first to somehow “jump” through the unwrapped package), sunflower seeds, fennel seeds, and seemingly thistle seeds as one of the last features (the kind you “make a wish” on). I do not want all of this wasted, so I eat the small amount of maize flour as well as some of the sunflower seeds and fennel seeds that later emerge. (I believe this segment was caused by sounds in my real environment at the time and my dream trying to resolve these sounds by including both dream signs and very slight “nourishment” and an analogy to increasing awareness of physicality.)

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Morning of July 27, 2016. Wednesday.



One area of a building I find myself in, as I am becoming mostly lucid, seems to be a small private bar, though with several people, mostly unfamiliar, though Ian Somerhalder is here. (This actor was on both “Lost” and “The Vampire Diaries” so curiously can represent both subliminal water induction and dream flight as well as the circadian rhythms factor of nightfall and the dream state, all simultaneously.)

I am lucid, but not viably lucid (to where I can automatically direct everything) and I do not enter apex lucidity (which requires pushing open a heavy wooden door for me or at least going through a porch or open doorway) even though I am aware I am dreaming.

I start talking about how I am dreaming and try to prove this to the patrons of the bar. Ian looks on with a slight interest and becomes curious when I press my hand into the rectangular wooden and metal bar table. However, instead of my hand phasing through the table, the implied polarity is skewed as I push my hand down through the surface so that the wood and metal moves, creating a hand-shaped hole in the top of the table (with some of the metal part ribboning around part of my hand), the main piece sticking to the palm of my hand as I continue to press down. This is not quite what I had intended of course, but Ian still has a look of awe on his face with a vague hint of amusement. I try it a few more times at the main bar, but my hands and fingers now only meet with total solidity. I keep tapping my fingers and hand on the surface and only meet logical resistance as in reality. This annoys me greatly. The counter’s solidity is very realistic and uncompromising.

I leave the area and soon find myself in a shootout with police officers and a number of 1960s gangsters. I do not have a gun and I do not materialize one at any point. I end up in an area where I notice an unknown male of about forty years of age. He is wearing a black shirt that reads (in white letters) “Do not shoot me because I am Claude’s (my full name in possessive) guardian.” I find this very peculiar and thus question why and how an Angel of Retrieval could possibly be in a lucid dream other than as comic relief. I also find this scene (and him) somewhat hypocritical on two levels. Firstly, the shirt is possibly bulletproof, and secondly, I myself have no writing on my own shirt and it is likely not bulletproof either. Still, I somehow manage to dodge all the bullets that are randomly flying everywhere. I try to summon the shirt from his body into my hands, which works, but then decide he can have it anyway.

I then go into a large area where the timber structure of the walls and ceiling is rather complex and a number of people are having a party. I decide to use telekinesis to make the ceiling collapse for no particular reason and leave the building as it collapses behind me.

I end up walking on a very large and wide wharf that extends out about thirty feet or more over a gray ocean and it seems just prior to sunrise. A number of people are present, but no one is familiar. I make eye contact with a random male of about thirty and try to communicate with telepathy but he just stares back blankly. I eventually start touching and pushing people (not aggressively) to see how “stable” they are.

A young girl approaches (probably a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna I perceive as being asleep - thus the ocean, which represents sleep and the dream state) and she seems slightly upset but does not see me at all (even though I am not phased or invisible as far as I know). There are a couple other people in the area. She seems concerned about the dolphin known as “Skipper” and it possibly swimming away or “leaving” her (though this is only by assumption because I think of “Skipper” as a dolphin for some reason, when it is actually supposed to be “Flipper” - so this association with Skipper as a dolphin may be completely wrong, though it does have meaning). I look out at the ocean and start to hear unusual music (an old song I wrote at age twelve based on “When Wakes The Dreamer!” from Eerie Magazine) and decide to leave my dream.

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This last part is rather interesting and contains an element I could not possibly have known about, as Zsuzsanna had never mentioned that she had her doll named Skipper (which was female) near the ocean (the only doll she took that time), and also, had to leave it behind when her family moved. In my dream though, at least vaguely, I did see “Skipper” as a distortion of “Flipper” which would be me as the dreamer leaving that essence of me behind in the symbolic ocean of sleep (while Zsuzsanna was still sleeping as I woke thus I was “leaving her” as we were then at different levels of consciousness), while it is also an incidental play on “Skippy” (the kangaroo). A doll is also the dreamer within a dream, as it is still and “held” by the superior whole consciousness and not active in sleep.

Morning of July 5, 2016. Tuesday.



This dream starts off with quite honestly the worst visual pun I have seen in ages. I am looking into a parking lot and see that something is not quite right. Instead of the cars having a windshield and upper section, it is a thumb in such a manner as the thumbnail implies the car’s windshield. Still, the scene does not really seem that bizarre to me and in fact, eventually triggers otherwise unrelated sequences.

Next, there is a thumb with windshield wipers moving over the thumbnail. This image is greatly magnified though the closeup perspective is not realistic. The windshield wipers have too much mechanical detail and exaggerated distance from each other (relative to one over the other and seeming farther out than it should). Eventually these “windshield wipers” become more like a minute hand and an hour hand reading fifteen minutes to three (or two forty-five). During this time, there are also glimpses of watching the slightly twitching needle of a pressure gauge. Sometimes when going back to the “fingernail wipers” they seem more like black hairs that just fall off the surface.

The perspective of my dream shifts, similar to when one jumps from visual sequences into a more corporeal state. A car has been abandoned at the top of a hill with all of its doors left open. It is raining. The windshield wipers are the minute hand and hour hand of a clock, again suggesting two forty-five or a quarter to three. They move slightly but fall back, and the position remains at about a quarter to three. It seems at first to be some sort of sign relating to mortality. However, it is more likely a circadian rhythms feature as it relates to the nature of time. I begin to walk towards the car and instead become the car which is also a clock.

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Upon seeing the above image, Zsuzsanna caught the play on “thumb drive” instantly, with no other hint.

Morning of March 31, 2016. Thursday.



I find myself in a new composite setting and this one is mostly modeled after the Cubitis living room. What is different is that the door to my room is not present and a bed is aligned along the west wall (which would have covered the door had it been there as in reality). Also, the front door to the carport is instead implied to be an arched opening to another room. Very light blue curtains hang down over the area.

I am lucid but not yet near apex lucidity. Still, I focus on my perception for several minutes. Being directly linked to the preconscious and my conscious self identity, I start to think about the nature of ghosts and such (and creating a haunted house adventure) but I soon change my mind. Instead, I decide to create a sexual encounter. As curtains over an otherwise open doorway is a form of autosymbolism that designates division of liminal space (the metaphorical “barrier” between dream self and conscious self while in the dream state), I use it to vivify and sustain my dream as I have done in many other dreams. (Additionally, a carport or porch is liminal space in both dreams and reality and is typically the last setting when occurring in a non-lucid dream. Knowing this as I have since childhood also aids in vivifying a dream.)

“The hand and arm of a beautiful young girl will emerge from between the curtains,” I say. Very soon, a graceful female’s hand and arm is protruding from between the curtains. I feel a strange but very pleasant sensation as if a veil is being pulled up and my clarity grows and intensifies. I then add more scenario detail and the ideal form of Zsuzsanna eventually steps out with an incredibly friendly and familiar essence. She is dressed only in light blue lacy lingerie. We make love on the bed (I am on my back and she is over me, facing me) and eventually my dream shifts as I allow it to. It is the same setting but there are other people present now, mostly relatives and a few unfamiliar people.

I notice an Archie comic book on the table (on the opposite side of the room as the bed). It is open to a story where Archie seems to be interviewing or at least talking with a football player. Jughead is seated nearby. There is a plate with a piece of cake on it. I effortlessly will the small slice of cake out of the comic book onto the table and eat it.

“Wow, this is the best cake from a comic book I ever had. It is fantastic!” I say. I pretend to almost pass out with delight. Witnesses, especially the personified preconscious, eye me with suspicion. The cake really is delicious, but perhaps they think it should taste like paper.

As the drawing still exists on the comic book page, I will it out again and eat another of the “same” slice. “This is the best comic book cake ever!” I exclaim. I pretend to fall over backwards in ecstasy (the bed is now on the opposite side of the room by my will) and I deliberately decide to become unconscious and of course becoming unconscious in a dream is waking up into reality or so it is with me when I choose (though sometimes I wake when I wish by opening my “other eyes” in a dream, though this is hard to explain, but I have done it all my life with certain dream types, even non-lucid).

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Morning of March 25, 2016. Friday.

Dream #: 17,994-03. 2 min 48 sec read.





I am with Zsuzsanna and our family as we appear now, but we live in an unfamiliar (to my conscious self) house. It has a minimal essence of the Barolin Street house but without its appearance.

I look at our backyard. There are two sets of railroad tracks parallel to our house, the first not more than ten feet away. My dream’s imaginary backstory implies there was a flood. The ground had been gray and gravelly. After the flood, there is rich topsoil of a bright brown. I remark on this beneficial outcome.

Later, I look through a large window into our backyard and see a snake slowly crawling away. It resembles a copperhead. I tell Zsuzsanna, and she says it may be venomous.

I look again, and it is unrealistically large in the middle of its body (as if it has a potbelly).

It returns to our backyard but is now upright like a cobra. It has two humanlike muscular arms and moves over a set of railroad tracks as if “strutting” yet without legs. I wonder if it is a legless lizard.

I speak to Zsuzsanna in our kitchen. The back door, mostly glass held by a narrow metal frame, had fallen inward though I am unsure why. I do not want the snake getting in, so I prop up the door against its frame.

I hear an unfamiliar male voice and am briefly puzzled. I realize there is a bathroom on the other side of the wall. I think it is part of an infrequently used park ranger station connected to (the other side of) our house.

I see a gap under the baseboard, and the voice becomes more audible. I realize an unknown man is talking to me in a sarcastic tone. I pretend I am unsure where the voice is coming from while I speak to Zsusanna about it. “Did you hear that?” I ask her. “It seems to be coming from the other side of the wall. Perhaps it is a recording,” I say, mocking the unseen man.

At least five park rangers in tan uniforms (this dream’s typical protoconsciousness manifestation) walk into our kitchen. I briefly relay details to them about the unusual snake. I threaten to call the police (but I do not) after the men start to move objects on the highest three shelves of the cupboard. They are dusty, with a layer of black ash (an association with the cane fires here in real life when ash fills parts of a house’s roof and even falls through loose crown moldings). The man that had spoken earlier reminds me vaguely of Burl Ives.

They rearrange various objects, including empty salt and pepper shakers, knickknacks, and an antique white ceramic teapot. They do not retrieve anything and can barely reach the shelves. They shuffle objects about, and I hear their soft glass and metal impacts.

I find myself holding a belt (somatosensory phasing response to REM atonia). I am ready to swing it upwards to strike a hand with the buckle if one of the men reaches toward the shelves again. However, they now only stand around, looking up at the shelves as if slightly puzzled as my dream fades.

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In my first “crucial review,” I explained the factor of tripartite mentation, which dissolves the mistaken belief of “dream interpretation” when there is metacognitive causality. In this dream, the railroad tracks (as in my first report using “crucial review” in the title) epitomize the latent potential mobility of Zsuzsanna and me as we sleep, the specific association being with the human spine. The correlating associations here involve a snake (in this case) doubling as a “human spine” traversing one set of railroad tracks. On one level, it is “me,” being chubby, but I also have muscular arms.

It is not the first time snake and belt associations have correlated. “Striking” the hand of the protoconsciousness personification (with the “fang” or prong of the buckle) would have produced myoclonic dynamics had the phasing responses resulting from the waking transition continued. Note the “potbelly” association with the teapot (“I’m a little teapot”). The tie to ceramics and REM atonia (statues are predominant) has occurred all my life.

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