non-lucid

Morning of June 8, 2018. Friday.



I am uncertain of the foundation of my dream, as I become aware at the beginning of a scenario that takes place in the Philippines. (My brother’s Filipino wife-to-be and daughter are presently in the Philippines.) It begins as the common water induction (which is autosymbolic induction into awareness of sleep dynamics and the internal body clock as analogous to tidal factors of Earth), but I originally start out walking from a featureless small dark room that directly leads to a small beach with a small wooden dock, the following scenario of which seems to be taking place in early afternoon.

An unknown female (though of whom is a subliminal thread of Zsuzsanna without my conscious self identity being extant) is sitting on the dock. An unknown Filipino male of about twenty is sitting on the right side of the dock, his legs over the edge. Apparently, a young boy has been kidnapped and the female is trying to reason with one of the men involved in the kidnapping, which seems politically motivated.

I walk onto the dock, my dream self’s awareness increasing as a result. The other male looks at me as I sit down. “What are you supposed to be, a medicine man?” he asks me sarcastically. He seems to think the female hired me to rescue the boy. I am aware that I am now wearing a Native American breastplate and tribal regalia. He talks about the kidnapping of the boy as if the act was justified. He takes out an AK-47 from underneath the dock that had somehow been attached to its underside. I have a vivid awareness. On one level, I feel as if he might shoot me, yet on another level I feel something in my mind that is not lucidity, but some other form of augmented self-awareness (of which allows me to non-lucidly alter and sustain my dream). Additionally, the gun seems to have an unlikely hollow essence, somewhat like several pieces of hollow plastic loosely fitted together, though I still decide to perceive it as “real”. (The unfamiliar male is the preconscious, but I instinctually modulate my dream back into the water induction stage in the next scene.)

Another one of the kidnappers, also male, is now present on the dock. I decide to go and find the boy, as these people are starting to annoy me. The female is no longer present. I wave the dock away but I am still standing on the surface of the water as the others fall in and seem to have difficulty swimming. I am barefoot (subliminal awareness of not wearing shoes while in bed). I enjoy splashing around on the water’s surface without sinking. I walk on the water for several minutes, vividly feeling the essence and movement of the wonderful water beneath me. One of the kidnappers agrees to show me where the boy is being held. Although he cannot walk on water as I can, he is able to swim for a distance until I decide to fly and carry him.

We reach a room where several males are sitting at a wooden table. One of them is the boy. His face is full of bruises and spots of blood. I lightly touch his face and he is then seemingly unhurt and in a better state of health and clarity of mind. I think of doing this to the kidnappers, but when I touch two of them, they fall over, possibly dead. (This is because the boy is the emergent consciousness personified while the others are preconscious minions or virtual “echoes” that become sublimated in my liminal choice to correlate with the waking process.) I get into one conversation about Jesus. I am supposedly a descendant of Jesus (ironic as I am not a Christian). Something in my blood supposedly gives me divine abilities.

I decide to fly the boy back to the previous location. On the way, we fly through a large hall that seems to be outside and inside at the same time, but is still supposedly part of the ocean. (This is typical water lowering waking symbolism, as I am aware the hall’s water is of a much lower depth than the rest of the ocean.)

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Morning of June 6, 2018. Wednesday.



In my dream, I am looking at the Internet. It seems to be late morning. I find myself looking at an archive site for television series, possibly archive dot org, though it is rendered differently. A list of episodes of an unknown television series appears mainly on the left half of the screen, but I do not look at much of the right half of the screen, which seems mostly featureless. (This is logical as dream state orientation autosymbolism is most often directed to the left while waking process autosymbolism is most often on the right. This is a natural result of liminal focus on sleeping as being directed to my left side toward the bed’s surface while waking autosymbolism is oriented to my dream self’s right as it is more open to the environment in reality.)

A dream journalist who exists in real life had made a comment on one of the episodes, saying that the episode was not there and he could not find it anywhere else, worded as “Is the true broadcast available somewhere?” The show is possibly “Frasier” (or implied to be), as I saw parts of this show prior to going to bed (though I have never seen an episode in its entirety). The episode above the one that is supposedly missing features a story about a secretary.

I click on a link under the title of the supposedly missing episode (of which I cannot presently recall the title). I discover it goes to another page of a similar appearance. The episode is there, with the ability to play it on the web page. I look around on the two pages and realize that the episode that was claimed to be missing is actually the only one that is available while the others have only a summary and no link to view the episode. I think of writing to the poster to tell him that “the link is right there in the link”, but that sounds ambiguous and I wake before I write anything.

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This afternoon in real life, I randomly ended up on the archive website by originally looking at a Wikipedia article. I noticed one of four comments in which it was claimed that “Payment Deferred” from “Studio One” was not actually there as all the other episodes apparently were. Part of the review read “The file present is a mislabeled duplicate of the 25 November 1947 revival broadcast” ending with “Is the true Moorehead/Sloane broadcast available somewhere?”. It was written by someone called “Professional Tourist” way back on May 8, 2011. I had never looked up “Studio One” anywhere online prior to today and that was only due to a reference in Wikipedia about “The Twilight Zone”. Though it is true that many files are mislabeled or missing on websites, it is still a curious and unlikely sequence of events to always have something “repeat” on one level in waking life after the otherwise distorted dream event. Additionally, Googling the detail, two YouTube versions of the “Studio One” episode appeared first, posted in April 23, 2014 and April 24, 2018. (The real event was for a radio show, not television.)

All my life, on a day to day basis, I experience threads of prescience while many other people refuse to accept it. Because of that, it is no longer possible for me to view mainstream society as having any credibility or intelligence where it counts the most. Still, when more is known about the nature of time and perception, the underlying causes may be known, though I have often considered the possibility that people were not meant to know in this era. Presently, I have only publicly acknowledged about 600 precognitive dreams on the dream journal website, though there are many more of which I have never included the full details online.

On a more mundane level, this dream is likely the result of contemplating how this poster (and many others) have beliefs and experiences of which are the opposite of mine. Thus, I find the video which exists and the others do not, the opposite of the original claim.

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Morning of June 4, 2018. Monday.



I find myself swimming and breathing underwater (as I have always done in such scenarios) inside an unfamiliar house of which is mostly empty of furniture.

There is a clear memory of an unknown man having told me about an experience with a shark. His son had been playing with a shark and also had fishing line wrapped around him that was also wrapped around the shark. There is a vague puzzlement as to why anyone would play with a shark (perhaps they were both naïve), but there is nothing said about the boy or his father being in any danger. The man described how he had gotten his son back, but had not been able to get him back solely from pulling on the fishing line, which seemed to puzzle him.

I eventually notice a shark remaining in one position above me, close to a wall and near the ceiling. There is a long length of fishing line trailing out from its mouth, curving through the water in at least one figure eight pattern, some of the line through its gills and some over the dorsal fin. The other end of the fishing line ends near where I am floating near the center of the room. I do not feel endangered in any way.

I consider pulling on the fishing line to see what happens, but I decide not to and swim around for awhile, exploring the mostly empty house. There is a peaceful feeling despite a shark being present, though it never moves from its original position.

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Autosymbolism explained:

Being underwater: Instinctual awareness of being asleep. (Being able to breathe underwater is proof that I have subliminal awareness that I am dreaming.)

Shark: Instinctual in-dream awareness of RAS (reticular activating system) and its waking process function.

Not pulling on the fishing line: Liminal dream control (dream control without lucidity) based on lifelong understanding of dream state autosymbolism. (If I had pulled on the fishing line, it might have initiated RAS.)

The memory of the story: I was wondering if my youngest son was sleeping well in his room before I went to bed. This carried over into a projected backstory in this dream.

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Lucid dreaming (being consciously aware of being in the dream state) and control of a dream by way of dream self modulation over RAS are unrelated despite the myth of lucidity being related to dream control still being widely propagated.

This dream is obviously modulated by my dream self (by way of the virtuous circle effect in having a deep understanding of my dreams for over fifty years), yet I am not lucid. I use the term “liminal” in a different way than some other writers. Technically, there is a subtle difference between subliminal and liminal regarding the dream self’s perception, but when I write “liminal dream control” I am describing full control of a dream without any awareness that I am dreaming or even recalling what a dream is. This is a specific type of synaptic OR gating.

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Morning of June 2, 2018. Saturday.



In my last dream of this morning, I was happily splashing through rain puddles, like a kid again (which is moot, as my non-lucid subconscious self cycles through various random ages anyway as it lacks temporality and does not have viable access to my unconscious mind as the conscious self does in waking life). Funnily enough, this was liminally influenced by an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond”, seen just prior to going to bed, the one where Raymond tells his father NOT to splash in rain puddles, actually the last thing I saw before going to sleep.

It was not raining in real life at the time.

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Water (lakes, rivers, a bathtub full of water, waterfalls, water slides, floods, rain puddles, and so on) is autosymbolism for sleep and the biological dynamics of the dream state. It is metaphorically associated with the tidal factors of Earth and the beginning or ending of an ultradian rhythm cycle. This dream additionally correlates with water-lowering waking symbolism (WLWS), a continuous factor of my dreams on a day-to-day basis for over fifty years, though usually in only the last dream of a sleep cycle (due to its link to ultradian rhythm patterns and the circadian rhythms of sleeping and waking by way of RAS mediation and modulation as well as the activity of the glymphatic system of which is augmented in REM sleep).

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Morning of May 31, 2018. Thursday.



In my dream, I am back in the Loomis Street house. In this case, my thread of memory of being married to Zsuzsanna is extant, but everything else is absent. There is a vague backstory that develops out of the liminal awareness of being in the dream state, autosymbolism that brings about little white clouds outside of which are only about three feet above the ground.

To summarize, my dream involves looking outside (from the south room of the Loomis Street house) in late morning and seeing these little white miniature cumulus clouds, again, hovering above the ground, though only in a singular sparse row between the houses, slowly drifting east to west. I feel a very unusual sense of something being “off”, and yet no lucidity is triggered by this liminal awareness. I illogically “realize” that clouds being this low to the ground, even though they are small, will cause earthquakes. An earthquake does occur, and I go into the middle north bedroom (where I never slept in real life). Zsuzsanna and I cheerfully interact. (Obviously, a bedroom, even the “wrong” one, is a dream state indicator, not symbolism or more accurately, not autosymbolism, as dreams are not symbolic in the conventional sense.)

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Earthquakes occurred very often in childhood dreams, usually only the first dream of my sleep cycle, and they were not threatening to me in any way. This developed out of liminal dream control where I would deliberately shake a scene from side to side to intentionally change the setting of my dream (not by moving my dream self’s head but by willing the setting to waver from side to side to bring about a different setting, typically barnyards, forests, train stations, a friend’s house, and so on). Over the years, this was no longer required due to certain advanced knowledge when in the dream state even without lucidity (despite the absence of my conscious self identity), but this still remains an occasional residual factor.

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Morning of May 24, 2018. Thursday.



My dream self becomes aware of being on a bus in late afternoon.

I look around and see a number of unfamiliar people. They seem to be waiting for something. There is an ambiguous sense of being outdoors on a public street and inside a large building at the same time. The bus is not moving at first. I am sitting in about the middle of the row on the right-hand side.

Alfred Hitchcock makes an appearance (walking from left to right) as if he is presently involved in directing a movie. He has an illogical black-and-white essence unlike the rest of the setting, which is in color (though my dream self does not regard this as impossible or unusual). I consider that I might have somehow gotten on the wrong bus, and that I am on a movie set. If this is the case, I know I will not be going where I had intended even though there is no backstory with any awareness of my implied destination (though I do not even focus on any implied destination at any time, which is the usual case with dreams of this nature).

The bus eventually starts moving inexplicably, that is, no driver is in view, though there does not even seem to be a place for a driver, just the front open area of the bus and a clear view through the front windows. Alfred turns around and briefly looks surprised. The bus may have run over him, as he remains unseen. I remain in my seat, but there is no drama after this. It is quietness.

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This dream is easy to resolve. Firstly, the bus, because it is a vehicle, is an autosymbolic extension of my liminal awareness of my physical body in sleep. Alfred Hitchcock is a typical rendering of RAS mediation, which allows me liminal control of the dream state over his “direction” in this case, even more so as he is associated with having made mystery and suspense movies (associated with the enigma of being between dreaming and waking).

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Morning of May 23, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,783-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



My dream’s setting is unique and unfamiliar, but its implication is our current home in the late morning. The sky is bright blue with the essence of beauty and peace. I watch a silver 1960s flying saucer. I think it is the transportation of aliens without the recall of what “alien” means. I see it as rare and beautiful, with a cheerful shiny newness, and there is no sense of threat. It hovers in one location for several minutes. There is a soft humming sound that creates a sense of amusement and perfection. I tell Zsuzsanna I will have to get our oldest son to see it. (My dream self’s memory is incomplete as usual, as we have five children, but, other than Zsuzsanna, there is only a recall of our oldest son.) When he comes to see it, a jet is approaching it from the right (though the jet is moving too slowly to be real). Suddenly, the spacecraft is gone. I am somewhat annoyed.

The scene transitions into higher liminality, mostly undefined, though I am aware of our son on my left. We study an A4-sized photograph that indicates the movement of the UFO. It looks like a linear series of cirrus clouds. Its direction is implied to be from the top to the bottom of the photograph even though there is the ambiguous implication it had been in the center before the image was captured. I think the path of the jet is also defined by another sequence of narrow fuzzy white strokes that curve down to the bottom right (implied to be going in a different direction than the UFO even though it had originally been flying towards it). I am unable to comprehend the significance of the three trails because the one going to the top might be part of the one also going to the bottom (from the center). There may have been two flying saucers near the same area that speedily flew off. I am slightly annoyed about not discerning what had transpired.

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This dreaming experience is primarily an ambiguous combination of static vestibular system associations (still images otherwise implying flight) with the waking transition, mixed with cognition, and an attempt to discern what is otherwise the illusion of the dream state.

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Morning of January 3, 2017. Tuesday.



In my dream, I am living in an unknown residence. I am only vaguely aware of my family as they are now. I am in a cold indoor environment in the wintertime (even though it is very warm in real life). To my right is a large hot water heater of an unrealistic design and which nearly reaches the ceiling. There is also a furnacelike feature near the top.

I have an object that resembles a circuit board. A few wires are sticking out. By rubbing two wires together I can start a fire and make the room warmer. There is a ramp along the wall. After several attempts to get a fire going, a small fire finally starts. The entire circuit board is soon ablaze. I am enjoying it until I notice a couple of additional flames higher up that may or may not have come from my activity with the circuit board.

There is an unfamiliar young male present at one point. He points out that the hot water tank is now releasing sizzling water. I unplug the hot water tank and the water stops squirting from various areas of the tank, especially near the top.

I grab a white plastic bucket and fill it with water from the faucet. I fling it upwards but see that I will have to climb up to make sure all the flames are doused. When I get to the top near the ceiling I notice the top of the wall opens into another room. It is like an attic with a low ceiling. An older woman (of perhaps sixty) is sitting close to my side and an unknown young girl is sitting on a couch across the room and reading a book. The fire seems to be going out.

I apologize to the unknown female but she does not seem angry or annoyed. Looking down at a table in the implied doorway of this unlikely room (though I think it is some sort of open vent that is not meant to serve as a door), I see a Gold Key “Star Trek” comic book (which is a real-life cover of a comic book I have not had in years). The top of the cover’s image is nearest me so is upside-down. There seem to be a couple of burn marks on it and it also appears mostly in grays.

I say, “Oh, I have this comic book,” and the woman says, “I know, I gave it to you”. This puzzles me at first, but I do not say anything else about the comic book.

“I had my gloves sitting there,” she says, indicating that she had a pair of gloves sitting on the “Star Trek” comic book. She seems to be implying that the fire had burned them up completely. I tell her that it is unlikely as there were only a few small flames which had gone out quickly. I slowly wake while wondering what else to say.

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Dream state and waking process autosymbolism fully explained here:

Lucid dreams are not the same as controlled dreams. You can be lucid and not in control of either the dream environment or the dream body. You can direct and modulate the dream without lucidity. Dream control is a separate state than maintaining self-awareness in the dream. Lucid dreaming is not a “skill” (and for me has always been a natural state since earliest memory). Neither is dream control, though it does become fundamental upon understanding dream state autosymbolism and how RAS (reticular activating system) mediation works.

My dynamic and transient subconscious self in non-lucidity, because of isolation from both my unconscious mind and my conscious self, does not usually possess viable memory of waking life or reasoning skills. The rendering of the hot water heater is a thread of the liminal awareness of my physical body being too warm in my real environment, and is rendered to my dream self’s right as I sleep on my left side (my right more liminally aware of the real environment as a result). The cool fictitious environment is a result of a liminal thread of the conscious desire to be cooler. Additionally, water is autosymbolism for the depth and dynamics of sleep.

Liminal dream state awareness is inherent (a liminal realization of being in the dream state, yet without being lucid; a result of synaptic OR gating; my conscious self being aware I am dreaming while my dream self is not) and liminal dream control (the circuit board as autosymbolism for RAS mediation). Synaptic gating is triggered from the liminal awareness that water is sleep and fire is waking (achieving consciousness). However, I non-lucidly sustain and control my dream at this point before the preconscious factor renders a young male to caution me on modulating my dream due to my real-life environment being too warm. (This is a “primitive” but very important biological mechanism, just as the autosymbolic call to wake and use the toilet is). “I unplug the hot water tank”. I moderate my intent of dream state sustainment and reinduction, though I still have a tentative desire to sustain my dream by throwing water from a bucket.

I decide to enter the waking space willingly. I liminally seek out the RAS bulwark and find the liminal space divider (that otherwise separates the dream self identity from the conscious self identity). This is rendered as the unusual opening into what is implied to be an attic and is a form of sustained doorway waking autosymbolism. The attic relates to higher thinking skills (and also has an association with the thalamus in contrast to RAS) that are only viable when awake. RAS personification (as the old woman) is rendered. The usual vestibular system autosymbolism becomes the focus but is rendered in static form as a “Star Trek” comic book cover, which additionally signifies the sustainment of the liminal space transition and the lessening of waking start anticipation (which is typically experienced as the falling sensation of which is solely biological). Additionally, I am in the timeless transpersonal stage where it could be said that the old woman and young girl are both versions of my wife Zsuzsanna on opposite sides of the timeline.

Personified RAS (transforming into this dream’s emergent consciousness factor) talks about her gloves having been on the comic book. (The fire had gone out, as the waking alert factor is no longer needed.) This is subtle autosymbolism of the knowledge of dream state modulation, as hands and gloves represent potential control of the dream state. There is also the implication of the control of vestibular system dynamics in this case as evidenced by the gloves being atop the static flight symbol imagery. Gloves additionally augment the illusion of physicality. (The dream self does not have a real physical body, and a practice that some lucid dreamers utilize is looking at their hands as a “reality check” to see if they look unusual or have the wrong number of fingers.)

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Morning of May 16, 2018. Wednesday.



In my dream, I find myself looking at Facebook. The technology is not rendered correctly. There is a monitor at first, but this dream becomes of the usual “paper technology” type.

I notice a comment on my timeline. It reads, “Stop posting fake pictures” - in reference to real photographs that Zsuzsanna and I had posted of our youngest daughter. This annoys me. I respond by writing, in handwriting with a pen, on a page in a spiral notebook, though somehow also going to my Facebook page, “You are a moron” and “That is our daughter, you moron”. I eventually write a number of longer sentences. He is from another site (a music site for musicians) that I used to post on that no longer exists, though in my dream, there is also a vague composite association with a classmate from the 1970s and who is also on my friend’s list.

In actuality, the poster is fictitious and not realistically based on a real person on my friend’s list. His username in my dream is “beasts” (written exactly as such in lowercase and plural for some reason), which I see written clearly several times (even though print is most often not consistent in the dream state). There is a vague association with a real poster by a different name, but he has never been confrontational in this way.

By the end of my dream, it continues to follow the same typical association with computer technology being rendered on paper, yet somehow working with the Internet. I flip through the pages of my spiral notebook, looking at other instances of when he made comments on other people’s posts, and which the paper somehow “refreshes” the comments without my dream self discerning the impossible erroneous association. It also has the usual “activation” by sweeping or pressing my finger on the page as if on an iPhone.

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This is the usual thinking skills correlation as waking process autosymbolism. I even had a carryover to my dream of the next day (“Pet Brontosaurus and Fake Mad Magazine?”), where my subconscious self perceives a Mad Magazine as fake, which, because it is the dream state, is indeed “fake” when compared with the consistent validity of waking life. The influence may also come from the rough association with a real poster calling Facebook “Fakebook”.

Curiously enough, I was, as is often the case, vaguely aware while in my dream of the RAS factor and its personification as the otherwise fictitious Facebook user “beasts” (as the RAS function is often also rendered as a wild animal depending on the dream, its core form being a snake). Somehow though, this unusual type of synaptic gating did not entail lucidity of any kind. In dreams, I am often aware of the presence of RAS or the preconscious (and even the meaning of a dream’s autosymbolism while still in the dream, as distinct from hypnopompic disclosure) and it almost always has the same mood and essence as in early childhood. Yet curiously, this is often not enough to trigger in-dream awareness of the dreaming status itself (though does sometimes serve as such).

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Morning of May 16, 2018. Wednesday.



I become aware of sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar office. From my left, two unfamiliar men had been talking to me, one at a desk (facing the same direction as I am, toward the opposite wall), the other standing farther back and facing me. There is also a door to my left, between me and the desk. Apparently, I am present to take on a new job in their factory. A special agency had apparently sent me here, though there is no definite backstory. I am to serve as a foreman. There is an extraordinarily vivid and focused awareness of being in the room, though I consider that I may have fallen asleep briefly as they were talking, but they do not seem to notice. I remain relaxed and confident as they speak. There are no threads of my conscious self identity present at all even though I feel like myself. Only one thread of my conscious self identity is present in the last scene.

The man who was standing walks over to a large bookshelf (against a wall perpendicular to the couch I am on and also to my left) and picks up, from the middle shelf, a large leather satchel or what resembles an oversized purse, though it may be implied to be an oversized backpack. They will be producing this item as I am working for them. The man demonstrates how the zipper opens and closes over the top. It does not seem finished. In fact, there seem to be parts of the device that was used to make it still attached to each side.

I decide to speak, to give them the impression I am attentive. “Is this item made manually,” I ask, “or is it set up on a machine?” I lift my arms up in front of me and make motions as if I am pulling a lever with each hand simultaneously. The male who is standing says something about machines, but is not clear on the answer. My dream self is not aware that the couch I am sitting on had suddenly rotated (with no feeling of movement) ninety degrees to the left so that it now faces the right side of the desk.

The man at the desk is looking over some documents. “You will only be watching each employee to make sure they are doing their work,” he says. He continues very seriously, “You are their master, and they are your slaves.” I find his statement slightly puzzling, but I do not say anything. It sounds like easy work, just watching someone else. I try to recall the agency that sent me, but I cannot think of the backstory of this scenario.

Soon, I am in a different room without putting much thought into it or even having gotten up at any point. The two men are still present, but one is facing me while sitting at a large table and the other is sitting on a kitchen counter. I still seem to be sitting on the “same” couch. The man on the counter is holding a mat of the type made from recycled tires, a product of a factory I first worked at when I was eighteen years old. It is not implied to be a product they will be making. In fact, it is missing much of its right side (my right) when held up vertically by the man. I tell them this and describe the manufacturing process to them. I again make motions with my hands and describe how it is put together. “They start by slicing the tires into strips,” I say, “and then they put the spacers between the strips. Mostly all there is on that side are the metal rods holding it together.” I then describe how the metal rods are bent on a worktable. My dream eventually fades during this scene.

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Again, the only thread of valid conscious self identity is in the last scene, though that is a very old thread from about forty years ago and even so, rendered into an otherwise fictitious scenario. I continue to find it interesting how many non-lucid dreams have no associations with current waking life at all and I always remain baffled as to why so many people believe in waking-life-related “interpretation” above any real attempt to understand the dream state. In this case, even the autosymbolic nature of the dream state does not seem fully active other than the usual preconscious factor and the implied thinking skills correlation to initiate waking life consciousness. In addition to getting me to focus on thinking processes, my dream self’s status is seen by how the mat is incomplete on its right side, as waking autosymbolism is oriented to the right. It implies, while in my dream, that my bed is solid underneath me on my left side (analogous to a mat one steps upon). Thus, the essence and imagery of this final dream feature is more “solid” on my left, while waking reality, the openness to my real environment (right side), is causing my dream to render this fact with biological environmentally-based autosymbolism (my dream self’s awareness of my real environment is incomplete in this scene, thus that side of the mat is incomplete). This type of autosymbolism has been rendered in virtually countless previous dreams.

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Morning of May 14, 2018. Monday.



In my dream, a rare event with a (fictitious) computer game is rendered. (There is no waking life source for any of the imagery or content and I have not played any sort of computer game in real life for months.) The setting is unknown, though it is implied to be our present home. As my dream self is not my conscious self, my dream self ignores the fictitious environment as not being our real home as is most often the case, and accepts it as our home. Still, there is always the potential for liminal dream control (dream control without lucidity or even recall of what a dream is).

The main goal of the game has something to do with touching objects to the television screen to make parts of the image disappear (a clever play on synaptic gating while in the dream state). The television is larger than our real one. The image is that of what is apparently an unrealistic (cartoon) dragon. There is not much else, that is, no presence of a defined background or setting.

Before RAS mediation kicks in, I play one game level while sitting on a couch a few feet from the large television. I have some sort of patch that was utilized in the code, of which allows the objects needed to materialize automatically in the container on my lap, supposedly without going through other levels or meeting certain challenges of the game. These objects look like dinosaur and dragon limbs and so on, and again, the correct pieces must be touched to the television screen to make the correlating image on the screen disappear (which realistically, is ridiculously easy, though again, their materialization is based upon other challenges when not using the cheat patch). I successfully do this in the first instance of the game.

RAS mediation kicks in, and a form of RAS personification, an unknown young male, is rendered to my right, also sitting on the couch. I talk to him about the patch that makes the game quicker to play and win. However, I forget to press F2 to activate the patch and this results in an error. The objects that materialize in the container on my lap are more random. One of them is some sort of brush with a short handle, somewhat like a miniature stiff paintbrush. I get up and use it on the television screen, but it scratches the screen near the top and does not make any part of the image disappear. I notice a few long diagonal scratches and I am annoyed, as this has ruined part of the screen. I tell the unknown male that I had forgotten to press F2, and that random objects had appeared in the container as a result.

I go off to inform Zsuzsanna of this, and looking back, see that the scratches are only visible at certain angles, but they will probably still cause picture distortion. I look again when coming back into the room and see small equidistant rectangular “windows” in the screen on the upper right, as if parts of the screen had been deliberately cut out. I know that I had not caused this damage and I am puzzled. My brother-in-law Bob (not seen since 1994, when I left America) walks about randomly. I also notice a number of other people but I do not feel imposed upon in this case. My dream fades.

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Well, the imagery of the cartoon orange dragon, I just saw at the very top of the newsfeed on Facebook after writing this (as most of my dreams contain imagery, at one point or another, of something I see a short time later in real life - I do not consider this unusual, only something that people cannot explain, though many just deny it due to it being beyond their understanding and apparent experience). Thus, the “no waking life source” I wrote above instead turned out to have the usual prescience, which was a drawing (of a dragon) another dream journalist had posted on Facebook, additionally oriented as in my dream (facing left). I did not use that picture for this entry, as I did not ask them. (It had been posted 14 hours ago at this time, but this is the first time I had seen it.) Instead, I used a similar image as from my dream.

The rest of my dream is typical autosymbolism for the dream state and waking transition. The small seemingly cutout sections of the television screen represent our four clerestory windows in real life, a literal factor of real life integrating into the otherwise fictitious dream setting. A window, as well as a television screen, is an autosymbolic function that serves as a liminal space divider, the barrier between the transient fictitious dream self and the conscious self identity in waking life. (Liminal space dividers are rendered to prevent the development of false memories as the result of the dream state, especially as most dream content comes from the transpersonal levels of the preconscious and interconsciousness, not the unconscious of which is far more accessible in waking life anyway). As a dragon often has wings, this is the usual vestibular system correlation.

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Morning of May 13, 2018. Sunday.



I find myself in an unfamiliar park at night. Zsuzsanna is present but is only about eighteen years old. My conscious self identity is not extant, though I want to be with Zsuzsanna, though it is implied we have not yet spent time together. Her father is present at one point. There is a cheerful atmosphere. A number of strange events take place with the typical timeline distortions and setting alterations. Part of the park has a cemetery, as has sometimes been the case in dreams since childhood.

At one point, Zsuzsanna is standing near me and something invisible pushes her from her right. I wave my hand to make it visible and it is a tyrannosaurus of a somewhat yellowish color. It is not rendered very realistically and I wave it off.

In one scene, I wave my hands in front of a small audience. The expectation is to cause trees to uproot and to float in the air as well as headstones being lifted from the ground to float in the air. It does not happen right away, which puzzles me (even though I am not lucid), but there is some eventual movement.

In one of the last vivid scenes, I want to be with Zsuzsanna but I am puzzled by having barnacles growing from my left shoulder and upper left arm. I realize that this is not a serious medical condition, but I think it might make me undesirable. The barnacles jut out to about two inches.

In the last sequence, Zsuzsanna is standing near me and about six people, mostly in white with numbers on their tank tops, run toward us, though we are not directly in their path, so they run past us. Soon after this, what I first consider is a wheel rolls toward us. I turn to look behind me as it rolls down the path. It turns to the right and seems to jump and then rolls a short distance into a field before stopping. The scene shifts to where I am on the Barolin Street house’s porch without realizing I had lived here once or remembering that a porch has been common autosymbolism for the waking space of a dream since early childhood.

An unknown male of about twenty is present on the porch (the preconscious). He has a backpack and had been in the marathon. He is also a skydiver. Apparently, the “wheel” that rolled and jumped was his parachute wrapped up in the circular shape and it somehow got away from him. I cheerfully tell him of how it seemed to somehow jump on its own from the side of the road, implying that it might indicate a supernatural “I am” held by the parachute itself, as if it possessed consciousness.

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Working at decoding in reverse, the last scene is the very common (once per sleep cycle for over fifty years) vestibular system correlation autosymbolism and personification of the vestibular system factor by way of the preconscious. (This always represents a subliminal anticipation of the return to consciousness due to the nature of the falling start, which is solely biological.)

The barnacle scene is from “Barnacle Bill the Sailor”, a rather ribald song my father used to perform fairly often in public. Still, the lines I laughed at the most as a child were “I’ll come down and let you in,” (sang three times in a falsetto voice), said the fair young maiden. “Well, hurry before I bust the door,” says Barnacle Bill the Sailor. Therefore, I suppose there is a very subtle liminal awareness of doorway autosymbolism as well as the autosymbolic nature of using a staircase (for changing the level of awareness in a dream). Still, there are usually transpersonal influences in levels of unconsciousness closer to waking. In this case, Zsuzsanna had been looking at a pirate outfit for a small teddy bear (which additionally is a dream state indicator), which I had not known about, so there are always intriguing external correlations and synchronicity.

The tyrannosaurus scene is a throwback to childhood dreams where I had liminal dream control and created chase scenes without my dream self fully perceiving the source of the dream events by way of the preconscious (which is how dreams are mainly rendered, not by way of the unconscious, which the dream self does not have viable access to, or so-called subconscious, as the dream self is the subconscious personified, and without much intelligence or memory unless lucid).

The cemetery is often perceived as the factor of the conscious self not being extant in the dream state, the same aspect that creates certain types of ghost autosymbolism.

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Morning of May 12, 2018. Saturday.



Despite the atypical nature of this dream, I still firstly took it to be the usual RAS modulation and waking alert process with little or no real life associations, but I did consider its differently perceived nature as possibly being of a literally prescient thread, as I otherwise get those all the time. I considered if something would happen to where my legs actually ended up bleeding. I should have realized that this was only one possible factor. As is often the case, it was very impersonal on most levels in how it played out.

My dream is very vivid. There is not what I would refer to as a false awakening, although there is an unusual reset of my dream. Somehow, I had apparently scratched at least one of my legs, though the blood is on both legs. I see it a lot of it soaked into the sheets as well. I tell Zsuzsanna about it but I do not seem to be in immediate danger, despite the blood loss. I have never had a dream in my lifetime of this specific nature, so I was puzzled. I know RAS modulation can take any form, but why this at this specific time.

Sure enough, I ended up looking at YouTube (without really planning on it, as the site does not work very well for me anymore, probably because I have so much of the Internet blocked from my system), seeing a video I had never heard of or seen before. One of the first scenes was a man in a bed with bleeding legs. This happens continuously, that is, my dreams having imagery or events as a precursor to what I see a bit later after waking. Still, it causes me to question why in this case, as it was related to a video I was to see and not my physical body or environment as implied by my dream.

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Morning of May 9, 2018. Wednesday.



In my dream, I am living back on Barolin Street, but there is not much else regarding conscious self identity. In fact, there is uncertainty over the country the setting is implied to be in, though I should assume Australia even though the police sound and act American. There is more of an open area and a larger side yard on the south side of the house.

The typical preconscious modulation kicks in and it is an unfamiliar male of about thirty. Curiously, in this case, I am outside the porch rather than on it or in the house. I jab him just below the sternum with a stick (or possibly the handle of a broom) and it seems to go all the way through his body and out his back. Still, I am uncertain of whether or not I killed him. Even so, I stay outside while he apparently falls back into the porch. This of course causes a shift in unconsciousness, though my dream continues.

When I am in the side yard, three police officers arrive. I first think I may go to prison, though it is never determined if the man had actually died or not. Suddenly, there are several unknown members of the public sitting around at picnic tables.

There are two male police officers and one female officer, all unfamiliar. The two male officers start to be cheerfully condescending of me being South American (even though I am not). To my left, they dance happily around while a mix of music plays, which seems an ambiguous combination of Mexican Mariachi, Bolivian, and Andean. They are greatly enjoying themselves and dance around smiling at me but seem to be patronizing me with their tomfoolery. I am not sure how to respond and I remain sitting at the picnic table. One of them puts on a poncho and talks cheerfully about me, additionally asking me how I like living in South America. I do not say much.

Finally, in the last scene, the female officer talks happily to me. Apparently, I will not be getting into any trouble at all even though I suspect I killed the intruder. I am vaguely aware of manipulating the RAS mediation (as is often the case), actually feeling the change over time, though I have no actual lucidity (thus, this is the common transition of liminal dream control experienced since earliest memory), and that the RAS personification had gone in my favor without its modulation. I feel good about the waking transition, though my conscious self identity does not fully kick in until I am awake.

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Morning of May 11, 2018. Friday.



There is some sort of situation where an unknown older woman is at our house and demonstrating how an unrecognized cleaning machine works. She is apparently going to sell it. The house is unfamiliar but seems to be implied to have a facet of the Loomis Street house, though mostly unrecognizable as such. The machine looks somewhat like a large floor polisher but also seems to serve as a vacuum cleaner at the same time.

As she goes from a room into another room, I go in to see the condition of the floor. The “floor” at this point is actually loose dirt. I go over to check a bookcase and see that the bottom shelf is slightly blocked off by the height of the dirt floor. I reach down and I am able to take out a book on art. I consider that the floor can be evened out later.

I am then sitting in bed looking at the art book. There is conversation regarding the woman, who is talking to Zsuzsanna, having two of these machines and something about taking one back or both back and later returning with the one we are buying. I am unsure of the cost. One is secondhand and one is new.

The woman looks at my book and me and starts to make negative inferences about people who use paper or have books. This annoys me, so I make an indirect reference that implies that I think she is crazy. I make a comment about “deranged” people who are against people having books, though implying other people that I have heard this about. This makes her angry. I then say, “What about all the people who still get newspapers?” I get the impression that she thinks it is okay to get newspapers (though I remain uncertain) but not okay to have books (possibly because newspapers are recycled). The argument is not that dramatic and is not really like an argument at all. I have my book open to three photographs, one on one page, two on the other. They feature engraved images from Greece, including a light coppery one of Perseus.

There is another unknown person; a male; who may be living in the same house as the woman, who apparently lives directly across the street and stands near the front door for a short time. I get the idea that the woman will be difficult to live in the same neighborhood with and I do not fully trust her concerning the sale of the machine, though I remain mostly cheerful.

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This dream had a vague and ill-defined thread of either prescience or picking up on something around the time it was happening (with no way of me consciously knowing). In real life this morning, an unusual older woman had two mattresses and there was something about taking back a new mattress and leaving the old one in Zsuzsanna’s sister’s house. So although there was a hint of prescience or remote viewing (as is often the case) it was not correctly defined in this case.

There is an aspect of liminal dream control here, as not getting annoyed enough with the RAS modulation (the unknown woman seemingly disapproving of me) did not trigger waking and my dream was extended for perhaps ten minutes, even with the implication of picking out a book to initiate eventual consciousness, though in this case, it was an art book of which I did not see much writing. The dirt floor being higher than the bottom area of the book shelf along one wall correlates with the depth of REM sleep. The cleaning event is common and relates to the glymphatic system, of which is more active in sleeping and dreaming. The unknown male near the front door did not trigger preconscious modulation as it often does, probably because I was already in a bed (liminal awareness of being in the dream state).

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