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    Blue_Opossum

    My Wind-up Key Tattoo

    by , 10-05-2018 at 07:52 AM (128 Views)
    Morning of October 5, 2018. Friday.

    Dream #: 18,918-01. Reading time: 2 min 51 sec. Readability score: 54.



    My conscious self as in waking life experiences its annihilation in the non-lucid dream state, and as my subconscious self, I lose viable memory of who I am and the contact with my unconscious mind that I possess in waking life. All that remains within my temporary dream self’s fictitious mind is the subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, and the essence of non-lucid dream control and its dynamics gathered from a lifetime of knowledge of the dream state.

    Wanting to liminally return my incomplete dream self essence to at least partial coalescence with my conscious self, I create a school setting to metaphorically learn my way back to my conscious identity to pull myself at least partially out of the illusory dream state into the liminal pre-wakefulness range of a more realistic self-awareness and mode of discernment. The teacher is an unknown female standing near the center of the classroom of which is mostly featureless. I am in the room near the doorway, to its left when facing it. All of the other students (unfamiliar), male and female, several adults and children of different ages, are outside the classroom, in the hall. They are all unsure if they want to enter the classroom but are listening to the teacher. The class is just beginning, so they have time to consider their choices.

    I am sitting on the wooden floor with my legs out, with the bottoms of my feet facing the doorway. All that I am wearing is a white t-shirt. I do not feel embarrassed. After all, I am in a dream and not wearing clothes as I sleep in a bed, even if that understanding is only subliminal. (Even as a child, I knew my transient fictitious dream self was not my conscious self as in reality. That may be why I have rarely ever had “bad” dreams other than when biologically premonitory.)

    My illusory erroneous “I am” adjusts to the scenario. I am not lucid or holding any essence of my current conscious self identity, but being near the doorway is a factor of liminal emerging consciousness. The preconscious avatar awakens and comes into existence to my left, still malleable and passive. I allow the five youngest denizens (from a prior unification star ritual in a previous lucid dream) to cheerfully enter the classroom and continue behind me to begin their studies. I do not recall the purpose of the lucid ritual in my non-lucidity.

    I decide to converse with the preconscious avatar, an unfamiliar male of about thirty in this incarnation, liminally attempting to transform him into a potential dream state reinducer. On the right side of my right foot is a tattoo of a big golden wind-up key. In reality, this side of my body is exposed to my real environment (as I sleep on my left side). Yellow is the color of potentially viable consciousness within the dream state. That is the link to my true self, to my conscious self identity as in waking life, and the potential for my conscious self identity to manifest within my dream self. This wind-up key is autosymbolism (and a liminal reminder that my dream self’s physicality is not real) for beginning the transition of my true conscious self into my fictitious non-lucid dream self so that my conscious will can more viably maintain the simulacrum and perhaps sustain the dream state for a time.

    The avatar marvels at my tattoo, and that amuses me.

    My precursory lucidity holds his attention, though he does not attempt to dominate the process.

    “I got this when I was in New York,” I deliberately lie, though as it is a dream, it could very well become the “real” backstory should my dream last for several more minutes. “The tattoo artist was a man named Gabriel Vartez.” I pull this name out of nowhere. “Vartez” has no familiarity though “Gabrielle” is Zsuzsanna’s middle name (though my dream self still does not viably remember my current conscious self status here). I am describing this fictitious event to him as if it were a significant encounter.

    “That’s interesting,” he responds with admiration, “Gary Vartez?”

    This erroneous response annoys me, but I do not say anything or indicate my annoyance. Instead, I choose to wake peacefully.


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