non-lucid

Morning of June 26, 2017. Monday.



I am in a school setting, but it is completely unfamliar in regards to the school I went to in reality and I am unsure of the implied location. On one level, it seems vaguely bilocated with the area near Loomis and Gillette streets, though not the real-life school (that I never went to).

I mostly spend time walking around with a young atypical version of Zsuzsanna, who seems more like a classmate around my own age. I give her love and attention, though in the background, there is the realization of many other students projecting an overall mindless nature in addition to a group mentality of no benefit to anyone, which she also seems aware of and does not want to be a part of. I refer to her as my “partner” when speaking to an unfamiliar male.

After what seems a long time, the scenario changes. I have picked up a broken globe. The globe seems to have been made at least partly of glass and is only about twice as big as my fist. It is in several pieces. A male that reminds me somewhat of Zsuzsanna’s father is on the other side of the room (though I have never met him in reality and only talked to him on the telephone years ago).

In a non-lucid state, I cause the broken pieces to hover in the air, with no effort other than basic thought. Soon, I decide to fix the globe. I cup my hands around the jagged variously-sized pieces after they are placed together. There is an incredible vividness of heat and steam flowing from the palms of both of my hands. I am clearly aware that this will reseal the globe, somewhat like welding, but more like melting the glass and then smoothly connecting all areas of the surface.

The steam and hissing coming from my hands does not cause any discomfort even though my sense of touch is otherwise enhanced.

The globe of the world is a smooth sphere again. The other male does not seem alarmed or even puzzled. This is somewhat unusual in that it is the reversal of typical dream cessation symbolism, though because of its vividness, is probably more about stabilizing my emergent consciousness factor in this case.

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This is one of a few dreams of this date that was directly influenced by looking back at a childhood dream from 1971, which had been influenced by seeing “Crack in the World” (a 1965 movie). This dream is more like the 1971 dream than the others. (In fact, many of the few hundred brief dreams of this sleep cycle’s beginning centered around the movie theme to some extent. The fact that I had only thought about the 1971 dream for a short time, and the fact I had not seen the movie for a long time, is puzzling in how much influence there is over a new dream which is otherwise completely unrelated to my present life status, and yet this is a very common occurrence.) Additionally, I now realize that I had also been looking at a photograph from a 1982 dream (“Apple Baby”), which is a close shot of a hand holding a large apple.

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Morning of June 21, 2017. Wednesday.



I am in my bedroom in Cubitis (where I have not been in real life since the summer of 1978). There is not much furniture present other than a bed. My room is full of very shiny small gold nuggets and gold dust with a few piles of gold coins. It seems to be nighttime.

I do not consider that my bedroom being filled with gold all over the floor from wall to wall is unusual in any way. I also do not consider that it is unusual that I am Casper the Friendly Ghost, in cartoon form. Wendy the Good Little Witch is visiting. There is no direct association with humanity at all.

Snorkledorf, the Freakies Cereal character, though not associated as such by my dream self, is approaching from the west. Wendy and I know that we are in danger. He will most certainly eat all my gold and then eat us. We decide to flee. Wendy and I fly northwest, and although I phase through the wall as I am flying because I am a ghost (though I often do this as my more conscious-self-based dream self), Wendy does as well, which puzzles me briefly. Perhaps she quickly used her magic wand. For a short time, I am thinking that she could turn Snorkledorf into something else, but that might not prove to be feasible.

We both fly north now. The area is no longer like rural Cubitis but not like a city block, either. The houses are close together, the backs of the houses facing each other, with shared backyards (an interesting dream distortion). Somehow, the area seems familiar or at least “correct” to me (even though it is entirely unique) and I decide to fly to the library. Wendy is no longer with me. I get the idea that Snorkledorf might be able to track our direction using his sense of smell, but that concern fades.

In the unfamiliar library, I am “myself” to some degree. That is, my dream self identity is now human but there are not many threads of my current conscious self identity, though I have no dream-self memory of having just been Casper the Friendly Ghost. I discern my fictional dream self as when I was around twenty-five (even though I had not been in Cubitis since age seventeen). I “know” that the library is north of my home in Cubitis, the other side of Highway Seventeen from where the plant nursery would have been in reality (as well as the opposite side of the highway as my home was). As usual, this is the first time this fictional layout has ever been rendered. There was no public library in Cubitis.

I look westerly at a tall wooden magazine rack and see a variety of magazines and comic books. I think I might buy a book I see in about the center of the rack, which is a graphic novel of perhaps sixty-four pages, though it feels thicker when I stroke the slightly irregular spine with my right thumb and index finger. Even though I am not familiar with its content and it does not seem all that interesting, I decide I will buy it as I read the price on it as $1.13; a dollar and thirteen cents. My dream self does not consider that, being in a library and probably not part of an ongoing book sale (though there are book sales at our local library in real life), that I could not buy it even though I plan to.

I turn around and lean down upon a heavy wooden table to read the book more closely. There are a few other people seated at it, including a very chubby short-haired unfamiliar male on my right (south) of about twenty. As I lean upon the table while turning a couple pages of the graphic novel, the heavy table begins to tip to the point where its top is almost diagonal to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I say to the small group of people, as I catch and pull the table back upright before it is fully on its side.

“If you could harvest that energy, you could solve the global energy crisis,” the chubby male says formally but cheerfully. I wake.

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• The gold in my Cubitis bedroom uniquely symbolizes all my dreams that I had documented and decoded in my youth.
• Snorkledorf in this case symbolizes so-called dream interpreters. They “eat” (read) someone else’s dream without knowing what a dream is (what gold is for). They “trumpet” (as does Snorkledorf) an irritating out-of-tune fallacious “interpretation” with no understanding of personal value or experience or true meaning.
• Being Casper and flying is a waking symbolism precursor. Flying is the main anticipatory form of waking from a dream. Some “experts” believe this evolved from our ancestors falling out of trees while sleeping, but other “experts” have other theories, such as unconscious confusion of the physical body being horizontal in sleep while residual threads of the conscious self identity are rendered as upright in the dream state. I am more inclined to believe the second theory.
• $1.13, the cover price of the graphic novel, relates to how long I had been sleeping, an hour and thirteen minutes, a format I picked up from watching the timer on our DVD player so many times over the years. The graphic novel itself symbolizes being in the dream state.
• It is curious that the personified preconscious (though already coalescing into my emergent consciousness) said “harvest” instead of “harness”. (“Harvest” would imply getting electricity from plants, thus I suspect it means on one level that I should eat more green vegetables for more energy.)
• Thinking that Wendy could transform Snorkledorf with her magic relates to a conversation Zsuzsanna and I had prior to my dream. Neither of us have any answers for what is really wrong with much of humanity, regardless of how many times we had discussed it. This also relates to a recent analogy I came up with. Being an Internet dream journalist with over fifty years of experience is like being a heart surgeon with a detailed personal diary and additional book on anatomy. In the night, a person comes in through the window and scribbles in the margins “explaining” how the human body is run on hamster wheels…

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Morning of June 20, 2017. Tuesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and our children as we are now are living in an unknown residence, though the last scene is modeled after the southwest Cubitis bedroom (where I have not been since 1978). Zsuzsanna tells me that our youngest son seems to be in a trance. He is lying on his back in a bed chanting numbers, though at one point he is doing this with his knees over the side of the bed. Zsuzsanna just says that “he’s counting”. His eyes are open but he seems “asleep”.

(Of course, this situation is simply a real-time subliminal factor of being asleep myself and is so common, I typified “The Sleeper” as such when very young. The Sleeper is not always a human character and there are sometimes a group of Sleepers. Still, the validation of The Sleeper depends on other dream dynamics. For example, in one surreal dream where our youngest son was in a bed and seemingly very ill, there were additional precognitive factors.)

Our son’s left eye seems unusual and is a different color than his other eye. (My view of it is greatly magnified as is fairly common in dreams. This was influenced by a bit of redness he had in one eye a few days ago, which is okay now.)

Over time, our son is awake but he talks about having two heads. He does not actually have two heads but he seems to think he does when looking in a mirror. He even motions with his hand to show where it supposedly is (apparently on his right shoulder).

In the last scene, I am in the room modeled after the southwest Cubitis bedroom. Looking in a mirror, I see I have a second head on my left shoulder. This head is partly reminiscent of a character like Mr. Hyde in an old “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” movie (such as from 1931). The other head does not seem threatening. In fact, it seems cheerful.

I consider whether or not someone is standing behind me with his chin over my left shoulder, but there is no one there. I reach up and touch my other head, mostly around the face on the cheeks. It feels like I am touching someone else’s skin rather than my own, which makes me consider why it does not feel as if I am touching my skin. It seems too much like real flesh to be an artificial head someone may have placed there.

In the last scene, prior to my dream fading, I tell Zsuzsanna about it, but at first, it seems that I am the only one who can see it. However, our youngest son seems to be able to point it out at times, apparently because he had an extra head but is now fine in every way. This apparent syndrome is only temporary though I had vaguely considered if it was related to some sort of haunting.

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That preconscious is a laugh riot. (This dream was probably influenced by “The Manster”, though which I have not seen in a long time. If so, it would have been triggered by the focus on our son’s red eye a few days ago, as in the movie, the extra head starts out as one large eye on the man’s shoulder.) Basically, this is just another metaphor for coalescence of the personified (or monsterfied?) preconscious into the dream self prior to returning to whole consciousness. Of course, it is not usually physically literal in this way. One of my last dreams of having two heads was on February 24th of this year.

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Morning of June 14, 2017. Wednesday.



I am in an unknown residence where there are a number of unfamiliar people, though most of them seem friendly and cheerful. I am working with mixing music (with a cassette deck) but using a commercial folk music recording and I end up playing the cassette in reverse (by the tape being reinserted into the cassette inside-out, though the dynamics are muddier than digital reversal).

Over time, I begin to hear actual words, which turns out to be “Mama always tried to give me what I needed…” with additional lyrics about the singer’s father. There is also something about fast food being “fake” or something along those lines with an additional mention of the mother.

I take off my headphones and have an unfamliar male listen and he seems to find it interesting. In actuality, the melody is based mostly on the country song “Okie From Muskogee” (Merle Haggard), though I do not realize this in my dream. Eventually, the lyrics become gibberish (back to sounding more like reversed audio), although I still listen for possible phrases.

Eventually, a chubby biker (unfamliar) with a large brown beard, pulls out my headphone jack and seems to do something to the cassette deck and I soon see it is on its side. This annoys me and, even though he is bigger than me, I start beating him on the head and shoulders with my smaller barbell (without the weights). He is not injured that badly and we somehow end up in a kitchen (possibly loosely modeled after the Loomis Street house kitchen) but I soon wake. (I am fairly certain the biker is associated with Hell’s Angels, thus is this dream’s flight symbolism.)

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The personified preconscious is not always directly associated with a discernible flight symbol (though the preconscious level itself often is) as just being the preconscious personified is inherently viable as dominant waking symbolism on its own. Ending up in the kitchen in my dream relates to mild hunger while sleeping; pretty obvious. (Plus, this is redundantly validated. Even if I was ignorant enough not to know this, it is backed up by the “fake” food reference in the song. “Fake” food would be a subliminal link to knowing that eating in a dream does not give the body actual nutrients.)

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Morning of June 19, 2017. Monday.



My dream starts out with my dream self (with at least some present conscious self identity threads, though not that many) being in an unfamiliar library in semidarkness. I am aware of an unknown female (seemingly in her twenties) who had been looking over a number of supposedly ancient religious books with the hope of gaining some sort of understanding of her life as well as personal power. However, I am also aware that there is nothing here of any value for her when considering my own opinion of her activities. She does not seem to be aware of me at first. I assume that I am incorporeal at this time, though I am corporeal in the last part of my dream. Looking at the pages, they are singular lines of hieroglyphs rather than a discernible language, somewhat like small sketchy icons (a carryover from a couple previous recent dreams). It seems to be some sort of ambiguous distorted combination of Aztec, Olmec, and Buddhist cultures.

In fact, there seems to be something in the back of my mind regarding this distortion, as some of the icons seem to represent Olmec colossal stone heads as well as Buddha heads and figures, yet there also seem to be some Aztec symbols. This reminds me of the New Age movement, primarily based on modern charlatanism and fallacious occult systems, which unrealistically combines anything and everything in an unlearned, unrelated, and wrongful sense (including all the fake products for gullible believers in the 1980s, such as free radical “guards” one wears, which only had internal circuity to make a small light bulb flash on and off to make it look like it was doing something). I begin to feel sorry for her, even though the books themselves may otherwise be of some historical significance.

I end up sitting at a rectangular wooden table with her sitting across from me, as well as there being a presence of about six or seven other unknown people. A few of the additional people are at a table that is perpendicular to the one I am at.

She is using a calculator for a reason unknown to me. Soon, I cause, via telekinesis, the calculator to rise into the air and come over into my raised hand. The others do not seem that surprised and she does not seem to object. She then has a fifty-dollar note in her right hand, which I do not clearly discern as either American or Australian (though it is more like an Australian fifty-dollar note relative to its darker golden color overall, though with no plastic or transparent content). She is holding it up as if ready to spend it on something (though this is not logical as we still seem to be in a library).

I use telekinesis again to will it from her hand. However, it rips and she still has a large section of one corner between her fingers. Feeling slightly guilty about this, I try to unite the pieces back together with telekinesis and additional mental will. Even though the piece is eventually reattached, with associations of manipulating the resealing of the tear like a zipper, I cannot fully seal the tear on will alone, plus, the corner now seems slightly out from the rest of the bill and at an angle (This would not be possible in reality, as the area of the paper would require it to be of the exact shape when coming back together for the correct fit. It would not be possible for there to be a gap or extra paper beyond the perimeter implied as here, as the distorted trapezoidal upper right corner relative to the front of the bill now appears a bit bigger than it was). An unknown male at the other table “reminds” me that he had told me not to use telekinesis in this way (though I do not recall this actually having happened before).

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This dream utilizes non-lucid dream control. (Despite this, I am still technically the personified subconscious as I am not consciously aware of my conscious self identity and status.) This is evidenced by the fact that my conscious self certainly does not believe in telekinesis even though my silly dream self typically does and uses it effortlessly for the most part (more so in non-lucid dreams than lucid ones). Instinctual dreaming (non-lucid dream control) renders most forms of dream “interpretation” as pointless. If the fictional temporary dream self differs so much from the current conscious self and its present status, why would one assume there is significant relevance to the current conscious self (other than with literal precognitive threads, some of which are not revealed until many years after the dream). Although the manipulation of an object with telekinesis is technically a type of flight, I do not classify it as a third-level flight symbol unless more clearly defined or evidenced as such in my dream. It still seems to imply a factor of real-time dreaming and waking symbolism as in “not being fully grounded”.

What is going on here is a very typical metaphorical biological “showdown” between my non-lucid dream self (aka personified subconscious) and the personified preconscious (which is often transpersonal and unrelated to the conscious self persona, and thus which I assume in some cases comes from the collective unconscious) of the type which I have experienced all my life since early childhood. I am taking from her, the symbolic form of my critical thinking skills (the calculator), which do not viably exist in the dream state, and thus I am initiating my own waking symbolism which is why the preconscious does not object (as its purpose is to either wake the dreamer or instigate emotional factors related to waking from the dream state out of biological necessity; for example, if you do not wake you go into a coma or die - it has baffled me since early childhood how so many people do not realize that this is one of the main functions of dreams, though unlike what some “experts” claim, not the only purpose). The inability to fully repair the fifty-dollar note may symbolize two completely different factors, the first relating to, in being in the waking transition, unable to subliminally reinduce the dream state (as I am not lucid), and two, being that fifty is near my age, may relate to the biological impossibility to completely restore my physical body to as it was in my youth. (The symbolic “pulling up of the zipper” in attempting to fix the note may also be a waking precursor simply related to getting up and getting dressed.)

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Morning of June 18, 2017. Sunday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are in an unknown bedroom which is seemingly implied to be part of our home. I have some sort of booby trap set up. It is a jury-rigged device with an explosive. It is set up like this to prevent any imposer from having more access to our home.

The setting has the essence of some sort of unlikely composite of the lounge room of our present home and my fourth grade portable classroom that was north of the main building, with the classroom layout here mirrored from right to left when inside. When the imposer comes in through the doorway, there will be an explosion.

I consider the setup. The imposer will perhaps not be killed; only surprised. I talk to Zsuzsanna about the setup. Our bed is longways (adjacent to the wall) just to the left of the entrance. (I am not even sure if there is an actual door covering the entrance.) The foot of our bed comes up to near the entrance directly on the left side. The booby trap is right at the foot of our bed.

I consider that perhaps it is not that great of an idea. I tell Zsuzsanna that the explosion will probably be big and that it might destroy a part of the house or even reach us.

I go over to the device and pick up an oversized nine-volt battery. It has two wires at the top, each connected to what would otherwise be snap connectors. The two wires then lead to the explosive pack. However, instead of two polarized snap connectors at the top, there are two smooth electrodes with the same positive polarity implied for each, each of the appearance of an electrode from a singular cylindrical battery. I remove the wire from one, which will probably prevent the pack from exploding. Still, I also remove the second wire. I now know that I have disabled it.

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Of course, this setup makes no sense. In the first place, the nine-volt battery, other than being over twice the size it should be, would have no polarity in reality due to its invalid design. In the second place, one could not wrap wire around a cylindrical electrode (as it would just slide off). In the third place, there does not seem to be any kind of tripwire for when the imposer comes in, but just a small container of some sort on the foot of the bed, attached with two long wires to the oversized nine-volt battery.

Still, as would be expected, disabling my fictional device caused a softer waking, with no hypnopompic jerk. I find it fascinating how the majority of dreams are internally premonitory (in a biological sense) of the waking mechanism, especially related to the seemingly infinite ways a dream renders the lead up to waking symbolism.

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So what is happening in this particular dream? Well, the bomb is at the foot of the bed. When I disable it, I (or rather my unconscious essence) have done something biologically that prevents the type of hypnopompic jerk that is like my leg spontaneously kicking upwards. The location at the foot of the bed validates this quite obviously, and the different locations relate to the subliminal awareness that my hypnopompic kick might also disturb Zsuzsanna (so thus I am talking about the imposer, as subliminally expecting my emergent consciousness factor rather than the preconscious). It is also to the left of a doorway. A doorway symbolizes a real-time shift in consciousness, often the symbolic state directly between dreaming and waking up, as has been validated in thousands of my dreams since early childhood (and which I have typified when only about ten years of age as the “threshold” type). Zsuzsanna is to my left in my dream as she is in reality in bed as we are sleeping (a repeating orientation in my dreams.) Additionally, the battery and wires represent nerves and disabling it is symbolic of softening the nerve impulses of my real physical body. As with common symbolic (but subliminal) reinduction, this is not clear to me until directly after waking.

I have, since very young, always found it far more meaningful and important to understand the true meaning of non-lucid dreams than the pretend game of “interpretation” in the naïve sense. To each his own.

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Morning of June 12, 2017. Monday.



As with many of my dreams throughout my life, this dream is far too long, nonlinear, and surreal to relate cohesively online, though I will attempt to relate some of the main scenes as closely as possible.

I find myself with the understanding that I am playing Luke Skywalker in a new low-budget “Star Wars” movie. Zsuzsanna is Princess Leia (even though Luke and Leia were brother and sister rather than man and wife). The movie is implied to be along the same lines as the first “Star Wars” movie and I guess is meant to be a cheap remake. A couple other characters are with us, including a skinny version of Chewbacca, with much sparser hair.

In one scene, we are wading through a pond just outside of a large building, but we eventually enter the building. There is an unknown male near the entrance who is holding people’s credentials until they come back after exploring the building or possibly engaging in recreational activities. One of the unknown people I am with refuses to give the man his identification card and I think there might be some trouble. However, there is no implication of violence. The man instead hands him a small flower on a long stem, or at least that is what he says it is. To me, it looks more like some sort of small plastic rod, perhaps a toy. Still, nothing confrontational occurs.

After wandering about in the halls, we come to a room that is filled with water of about waist high (and thus must have a sunken floor). There is a giant jellyfish that I have to cut off from around Zsuzsanna and possibly another character. I use a large sharp sword. It takes awhile as I slice through its thick but soft body below the surface of the water. Someone shows me a miniature jellyfish that was just found in the small left pocket (of some sort of blue tunic) of one of our group (though this person must have been killed or vanished). This miniature jellyfish is like another one that apparently turned into the giant jellyfish and had entered his pocket while we waded in the pond outside the front of the building (on the left of the entrance).

From here, we walk towards the entrance, somehow not at all wet. Somehow, my “sword” is now a fake “lightsaber”, though not really like a lightsaber at all. I am carrying it horizontally in my right hand. It has a pink blade and a blue handle and is more like a giant toy jackknife even though, again, it is supposed to be a “Star Wars” lightsaber of about the same length. I realize that weapons are probably not allowed in the building. I do not want a confrontation, though none occurs as I fold the oversized plastic blade back into the handle. Meanwhile, the character that had taken our credentials stands without emotion near the entrance.

As we walk outside, I consider how cheap my prop looks. Looking back, I see that the male regards me with respect, and I consider how devoted an actor he is for seemingly feeling comfortable in such an obviously low-budget movie. For a short time, as I walk near a long colonnade, where many unusual characters (some alien, but most humanoid) are lined up to go into the building in the direction behind me to my left, I consider that I may be too old to be Luke Skywalker (who is supposedly meant to be the young version in this film). Still, the movie is being filmed in real time and I will do what I can.

As we walk along, I see what I firstly associate with a “Star Wars” tauntaun running along towards our direction but to our left in an open featureless field. For some reason, I call it an ostrich, mentioning it to the others. It is not like an ostrich however. It looks more like a giant quail. Another one appears, with an unknown female riding it.

In the last scene, Big Bird (from “Sesame Street”) appears as a “Star Wars” character. He makes an effort to sit on one of the creatures but I think he might be too big. Still, he manages to sit on it even though it lowers to the ground for a short time, but then seems fine and strong enough to support Big Bird’s weight. I turn to tell the others, “It’s a bird on a bird”.

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Once again, the preconscious (man at the counter collecting credentials) is not only not confrontational but quite respectful compared to past dreams. Still, this is probably because the flight symbol connection is being initiated (even though Big Bird does not really fly and the giant running quail are at least not implied to here either). Big Bird as my emergent consciousness factor relating to suitably being able to sit on the other bird relates to having deliberately lost weight recently. Cutting the giant jellyfish from around other characters possibly relates to me losing weight as well.

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Morning of June 12, 2017. Monday.



I am walking through an unknown city in a commercial area, where there are a number of small stores to my left as I walk. It seems to be late morning. I seem to be on my own at first. I have an interest in looking around in a store and turn to enter a store I think I recognize. When I walk in though, I see it is a clothing store.

“Whoops, wrong store,” I say as I soon turn around to leave. Another (unfamiliar) man who had been walking behind me also enters the store and turns around to leave when I do. It is almost as if he had been having the same thought orientation as I had and was simply following me as if I was “leading”, apparently also looking for whatever I am (even though we had not spoken and I am not even sure where I am going).

I continue to walk, but only a short distance and into another store that has a different type of entrance as the previous. There is a large long checkout counter on my right and an interior wall to my left so that it seems almost like walking through a narrow hall. I continue towards the back and see that it is a large bookstore.

I see a magazine that I find interest in after first noticing what I take to be an Omni magazine. When I pick it up and look through it, I see that it is a science-fiction comic book (in color) about dinosaurs and a group of men. I decide that I will buy it. I look in my wallet and I am somewhat surprised to find at least two one-hundred-dollar bills, a few fifty-dollar bills, and more. I illogically reason that my mother (who died in real life in 2002) had placed the money in my wallet. I have no memory that she had died even though I assume I am my present age.

I then see another magazine I want. I look through it and find it interesting. It also has at least one story relating to dinosaurs but is seemingly for older readers as well as being thicker. It is supposed to come with a CD, but I decide I will ask at the checkout if they have it. Our youngest son appears to my right as I decide to buy one more thing. I see a few groups of Casper comic books to my left. There are about four different covers (different issues) in the groups. I ask my son if he wants one and he says yes and points to one in another area to the right, but I already have one I find interesting and inform him that it is also larger. It is a fifty-two pages “giant” edition. He seems happy.

I go to the checkout and there is an unfamiliar cashier who is a female of perhaps fifty. She has gray hair. I remember to ask about the CD. However, when I look at the magazine, which is wrapped in (transparent) plastic, I see the CD is already there. I tell her that I had thought it would be in a jewel case attached to the cover. She looks at me with wary concern and asks if I had put anything on the CD (such as a computer virus, I assume) and I sarcastically ask her how I could have done that, asking her if I used the cover as a computer. Then I consider that technology might very well allow one to use a magazine cover as a computer, which I talk to her about for a very short time, but nothing negative commences and I remain cheerful.

As I pay, holding my wallet open and taking out a fifty-dollar bill, I notice an unknown female on my right cheerfully looking at the hundred-dollar bills in my open wallet as I hold it up near the counter. It almost seems as if she never saw one before and, slightly wary, I put my wallet away. It turns out however, that she had not been looking at my wallet or even at me; perhaps something on the counter.

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This dream is a very good example of why dreams are nothing like stories. I am looking through a magazine, planning to ask the cashier where the cover CD is. The magazine is somehow then commercially wrapped, implying it always had been (thus I could not have been looking through it even though I was). I then tell the cashier that I thought it would be in a jewel case, which makes no sense as I said this spontaneously and had really not considered it in this manner. Then the cashier asks if I had “put something” on the CD. Obviously, being wrapped, I could not have, and even if I had, I am buying it, so whatever I might have put on it would only be in my possession and with no problem or concern for others.

Additionally, my mother died in 2002, yet my son, born in 2007, is with me at his present age. My mother only ever lived in America and would not have had Australian money of such an amount to give me, thus making the setting itself ambiguous by location. Omni magazine stopped publication (in print) in Winter 1995. The Casper comic book, though new, was like one from around 1971. The threads of the fictional dream self always seem completely different each time and from many different timelines and temporary false memories.

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Morning of June 11, 2017. Sunday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and our children as we are now are at a carnival, though curiously, a group of people are in our house at one point (mostly in our lounge room) who are apparently waiting to enter another area. I do not see them as imposers and even consider how there are not that many people around. There is the typical ambiguity of the setting being an unlikely essence of indoors and outdoors at the same time, a common factor of my dreams since early childhood.

A photographer is present in a few different scenes. He reminds me of Al, the Italian manager of a pawn shop in La Crosse, who I have not seen in nearly twenty-five years.

Although some of the photographs he takes seem okay, many are very poorly done, often cutting off the person’s face below the nose. I have the strong impression that the photographs he takes that turn out well are the result of random coincidence.

Zsuzsanna and I sit to the right of an unknown family. I sit to Zsuzsanna’s right. I assume the photographer is going to take a few good photographs of the scene. However, when I look at them later, I see that my face is only visible above the mouth and in one photograph, the one I look at the longest, both my eyes are closed. I show Zsuzsanna and relate my opinion of this photographer as not being very good. I notice in the last photograph, my right eye is closed and my left eye is open.

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The photographer is of course this dream’s personified preconscious. He is not really confrontational here as in many other dreams. The purpose of the personified preconscious is to initiate the waking transition and in some cases, as here, to give evidence that the dreamer is dreaming. The subliminal anticipation of the hypnopompic jerk is only one of several factors in this waking symbolism. The preconscious is more of a biological necessity, though not always personified (for example, is sometimes an animal, sometimes an event or feature of a setting, but always fairly obvious if one understands dreams). The nature of how the preconscious waking factor is rendered, and what character plays the role in a particular dream, sometimes seems completely random. However, looking more deeply, there is usually more than one layer.

In this case, the photographer is played by a man who worked at a checkout. A checkout is a form of liminal space waking symbolism. (The analogy is that a person is done shopping and ready to return home as akin to leaving the dream state, or “checking out of the dream state”.) This type of hybrid characterization, though always unique, has occurred in thousands of my dreams, with the same waking symbolism and implications.

It is not that common for me as my personified subconscious (temporary fictional dream self) to be The Sleeper. This element is typically projected as something else, even faulty technology. In the last photograph, one of my eyes is open, which is an emergent consciousness factor. (My mouth is not visible in the photographs as I cannot speak coherently while sleeping.) Zsuzsanna and I are oriented in my dream as we are in bed in reality (that is, she is to my left). There seem to be a few types of instinctual dreaming (non-lucid dream control). In addition to the state where the dreamer knows he is making the dream (and yet does not even remember or know what a dream is), there is the state as here, where the dreamer is more passive to events, yet where there is the subliminal knowledge of being asleep but not direct or creating viable lucidity. There is also a sort of halfway point when I am next to Zsuzsanna, my dream attaining real environmental orientation while still within the dream state (more common and sustained in my childhood dreams).

Of course, a carnival symbolizes the dream state itself (that is, a place not relevant to the usual day-to-day reality, though my family had been to one recently).

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Morning of June 11, 2017. Sunday.



I am riding in the back of a taxi. The driver, a dark-haired male in his thirties, is unfamiliar. Zsuzsanna is with me. There also seems to be at least one unknown female present as a passenger. She makes unusual comments as we ride through a mostly unlit area, as if she is uncertain of the intention of the cab driver or where we are going. We go through an odd area between two exterior (presumably) walls in a more isolated part of the unknown city. The walls are irregular (more like rock faces) and seem to have recesses with unknown features, perhaps living creatures, but this never becomes clear.

Several different times, the taxi goes up a staircase, similar to the one on Rose Street (but somehow never down one). I do not consider this unusual, even though we somehow are eventually outside and at ground level again, to later ride up another high flight of steps. The last staircase is slightly steeper than the previous but there is never any sense of fear or even wariness.

Finally, we get out of the taxi on the second floor of an apartment building, apparently where the driver lives. This does not seem unusual to me. (In fact, my dream self had no backstory memory or any destination in mind at any point.) The driver walks over to an unusual “table” in his kitchen, but which looks more like the walls we saw earlier, and is actually like a large irregular rock (though flat on the top) in the shape of a rectangular prism. The driver exclaims “Oh!” (as if surprised by something unseen) and waves his hand, but there is nothing there. He mentions that a wasp had emerged earlier from the “table” and seems to think that this event is also transpiring presently (though it is not). I do not feel threatened or alarmed in any way and calmly mention to all the others that there is nothing there.

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In this dream, the preconscious shows me, several times, the “staircase as consciousness shift” factor (here, as implied waking symbolism). Still, there is no discernible change in the waking transition as such (though in contrast to going up, going down steps typically either vivifies my dream or triggers full lucidity). Even more oddly, he pretends the flight symbol (hypnopompic start precursor) is present in the last scene when I do not see it or feel the “return flight” mood at all. (Obviously, I still eventually wake.)

It is a general rule that the preconscious becomes more dominant (even aggressive or uncommunicative) over time during a particular sleep cycle. Obviously, this is because waking up is a biological necessity. This did not seem so much like a glitch as a “practice run” inclusive of my usual waking symbolism over the last fifty years.

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Morning of June 10, 2017. Saturday.



This is just a typical first-level dream sign dream of the type I have had continuously all my life, although I only document them when there are unique features. As I have explained before (though it is a no-brainer if one actually understands dreams and how the human mind works), the rendering is based on threads of real-time but subliminal conscious self awareness within sleep. (The number of threads of conscious self identity vary greatly from dream to dream, which is why “interpretation”, as in relating to the current conscious self, is not really feasible.)

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In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar location. There are a number of unknown people around who I do not perceive as imposers. Curiously, we are all on an oversized L-shaped bed, which goes around the internal corner of a wall (that is, of an inward ninety-degree angle). There are at least two windows, one on the side I am on and the other around the turn. I am also aware of a few family members.

A television is on on the opposite side of the room but I do not pay that much attention to it. I want to keep the window on my side open. It is a bit difficult as the piece that is meant to hold it up (at about the halfway point) is somewhat flimsy. Someone else (unknown), around the corner and on the perpendicular part of the large bed, hands me a gold metal rod (which I thank him for), which I think was a horizontal piece from the other window (which I think may have come from the top of the lower sash). It is about two and a half feet long. One part of it on one end (perhaps attached to it) loosely resembles a very long barrel bolt lock. I am able to place it vertically within the window’s left side to hold up the lower sash at the level of the upper sash.

After this, I do something to a headphone cord that is apparently plugged into the television. I pull it closer to where I can comfortably put on my headphones (not getting off the bed at any point). I soon hear the television sound through the headphones, although it also seems to be coming out into the room (which is not possible unless the relevant Y-cable is used).

This last part loosely comes from a recent real-life event. The speakers on our new television stopped working and I had to jury-rig a cord from the headphone socket into amplified multimedia speakers. (Our new DVD player appears to have no tuner so I guess technology is still moving backwards, as usual.)

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Over the last several years, I have learned a little more about the specific elements of “behavior” concerning preconscious factors, especially the personified preconscious. After closely studying tens of thousands of dreams all my life, it appears, quite obviously, that the nature of the preconscious in this case is non-aggressive or confrontational as I am “already in bed” and additionally “already near the open window”. (A window symbolizes, in real time, either the threads to the conscious self status, or another level of consciousness. In holding the window up with a piece given to me by a personified preconscious persona, I am willingly, though subliminally, entering the waking transition without the need for the preconscious to create aggressive or confrontational waking symbolism). Additionally, hearing the television through my headphones symbolizes, in real time, my approach to the waking event horizon, as a television sometimes represents (in real time) the dreamer’s external environment (though it depends on the dream type and time frame of the dream).

Additionally, the L-shaped bed is probably an unusual visual form to make the clear distinction between the fictional dream self (and its typically false memories and false identity) and the emergent consciousness (which is far more like the current whole conscious self identity). As such, it is likely analogous to the intersection feature in some dream types.

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Morning of June 7, 2017. Wednesday.



I am in an unknown location, seemingly in someone’s backyard at one point. There is a long scenario where this part of the world (the setting in my dream) will soon be ruined by sunlight of too high a radiance. That is, plasma, for whatever reason, is somehow flowing closer to only this part of the world.

It does not seem that bad at first. Some unknown people and I are involved in some sort of writing activity. I am sitting on the lawn. Over time, I am aware of the approaching danger. In the last scene, red dominates my dream. It is coming in with more heat and intensity. This also means that this part of the world will no longer exist. I roll on my side to escape the reach of the red beams, which seem almost like a giant magnifying glass being used as analogous to set a fire or burn an ant.

Since childhood, red almost always symbolizes (in real time) the need to wake up (or that I had been sleeping for too long). In this case, I had absentmindedly switched sleeping positions to being on my right side in the first time in a few weeks. Even in my dream, there is the subliminal awareness of this being wrong and I even roll on my side in my dream. (I can only sleep well on my left side, or halfway on my stomach to my left. Sleeping on my right side almost always causes digestion problems even if I have not eaten in awhile, as well as physical distress at times.) Dreams such as this often serve as real-time waking mechanisms despite people failing to understand this primary purpose of dreams, although contrary to what some “experts” claim, dreams are sometimes more than just waking symbolism even though this one is limited to that function. Still, living in a world of the “dream interpretation” fallacy all my life is just as annoying as being in a world with people who claim dreams have no meaning at all.

Morning of June 7. 2017. Wednesday.



The first main scene of my dream involves going to a very large unfamiliar post office, though there is the common indoors-outdoors ambiguity. There are a number of rows of post office boxes and drawers, though no interior walls or discernible building features. It seems to be late morning. The sky is overhead; no ceiling implied for the “post office”. It is somewhat like a simple maze in the last part of this scene. I see a group of about six police officers between two rows. In another area, there is an unfamiliar male in black appearing with a gun, though he is not a direct threat to me. Still, I do not want to be near him or the people he aims at from time to time. From an unrealistic distance, I am still able to read a yellow strip of writing below one post office drawer (in about the middle of the feature) that has something to do with needing a special code as well as the key in order to open it. It seems related to a business. I have a curiosity over what might be in the drawers, though I also consider there might not be anything.

Several unknown males join me as I move around the rows of post office boxes to be out of the viewpoint of the man with the gun. He is not after us specifically but I consider that he may not want any witnesses regarding his activity towards others. He does not fire the gun at any point.

Eventually, I leave the area and find myself in an unknown neighborhood. A young version of Zsuzsanna is to my right (though I am seemingly much younger as well, perhaps only about twenty). It is as if we have only been together for a short time. Walking ahead of us and to our left is a thin female with short and curly gray hair. She is unfamiliar and seems at least sixty years of age. She is wearing light-colored slacks and a blouse. She is carrying a large black-and-white cat on her right shoulder (which I assume to be male).

Suddenly, there is some sort of change where Zsuzsanna is now somehow sitting on the lady’s right shoulder and I find myself carrying the large cat near my left shoulder. The old woman somehow caused this because she wants us to have a meal with her at her house and talks to us about this. Her cat was also apparently becoming difficult for her to control, which is why I am now holding it. I am holding it up and out with both hands and it struggles a bit but does not get away.

We reach the area where she lives. She has one neighbor (also an older lady) to our right. The chicken-wire fence is lying on the ground, rolled out to where one must walk on it to get to another gate where there is a small enclosed garden area (which is about the same size in area as our bed and probably a real-time play on “garden bed” as a dream sign). It almost seems like it rolls out automatically (somewhat like an irregular carpet) by the will of the person going to the old woman’s house. I do not really feel like walking on wire mesh, so I hover slightly above it and slowly fly mostly in a vertical position to the enclosed garden area.

Zsuzsanna, being already behind the first gate, is partly lying on her right side on the ground near the right internal corner of the garden fence, holding herself up with her arm. There is soon distorted imagery to where a couple large blades of tall grass partly block my view of her face, but this seems like some sort of “story” related to “Alice in Wonderland”. The old woman talks about a man who tends to her garden, but this becomes like a dream within a dream. The man is also seemingly playing a televised role, dressed as a farmer or a minimal clown as a farmer, but being called a “demon” in describing what he is doing in tending her garden and also having unusual snakes on display to the public. I consider if he feels odd about being called a “demon”, as they do not exist and there is nothing threatening or negative about his persona or activities. He seems to tolerate this in playing a role in a television show. He holds up a couple different snakes that he has cared for. One has a catlike head. The other has a black head on a light brown body but the head of which is like a miniature shark. There are no negative emotions of any kind in seeing this impossible imagery.

Dreams do not really have “interpretations” in the naïve popular usage of the term but they often do have layers of meaning, primarily based on real-time levels of consciousness which may or may not relate more directly to the present conscious self status.

There is a preconscious precursor here. Although he has a gun, it does not create enough of a sense of danger to activate the waking mechanism, which is a major function of dreams (though not the only function as some “experts” claim). The simple maze relates to finding specific threads of my conscious self identity for my temporary fictional dream self to find its way to the waking threshold. The post office probably has two underlying meanings, real-time communication between different levels of the self while not fully awake, and possible links to the collective unconscious (or even collective conscious). It may also relate to precognitive threads with someone the dreamer is not yet in communication with (and may not be for years), something I validated from childhood dreams relating to my “mystery girl” (Zsuzsanna).

The dark cat represents a real-time factor of being asleep (and often represents an aspect of liminal space), as cats are known for sleeping a lot (as well as being active at night when people sleep).

The personified preconscious takes on the form of an older woman carrying her cat. Her giving it to me relates to activating my emergent consciousness precursor. “Beyond the fence” is a metaphor for a shift in consciousness while in the dream state. The first fence is on its side because, in reality, I am lying down (sleeping) instead of being awake and standing up (thus it is a second-level dream sign). I often hover or fly very well and effortlessly in the final stage of a dream and without giving it much thought (which relates to lessening the hypnopompic jerk and waking more softly as it is premonitory of the biological falling sensation). My emergent consciousness (as a projection as the gardener with the snakes in some sort of skewed television role) is illogically called a “demon”, but in a very matter-of-fact sense, with no associations with negativity of any kind. This probably relates to my status of being in a world full of superstitious people who have little or no understanding of the dream state. The imagery, though slightly grotesque (primarily the snake with a black miniature shark head, which is a “less water” factor of which has continuously occurred in my dreams on a day to day basis for over fifty years and is both biological and symbolic on a number of levels) has no effect on my perception or emotions, just as with hypnagogia visuals (though this becomes more of a hypnopompic state). I wake very slowly and softly, with no physical hypnopompic effects.

Morning of June 3, 2017. Saturday.



I am in an unknown and unfamiliar setting, lying on my left side on a bed that is unrealistically large. It seems to be late morning.

There are several other unfamiliar people in the room, though I do not perceive them as imposers or annoying in any way. There is also at least one young girl to the left standing on the floor, though near a young Hispanic female who seems to be a teacher and is also on the large bed. The implied teacher has some sort of curious device that seems related to computer technology yet is more like an abacus with spherical drops of water as the counters. Over time, I watch the beautiful silvery imagery of the pure water droplets moving smoothly across the horizontal abacus rod by themselves, almost as if inferring a clock or timer of some sort, yet also somehow seemingly linked to the back of a desktop computer. Still, I also get the impression that the Hispanic female is involved in using them at times for actual mathematics. She reminds me of a young Sonia Manzano (perhaps about twenty); (Maria from “Sesame Street”).

After a time, my dream self seems oddly unlinked to my intent (even though I am otherwise fully within my dream self’s imaginary “physical body”). I want to communicate with, and become closer to, the Inducer (personified higher unconscious). Instead, my dream self becomes my personified preconscious (which is extremely rare in non-lucid dreams of this type). I spontaneously start singing, “Like a moth to a flame…” in a higher pitch (sounding somewhat like a young teenager), my dream suddenly shifting, becoming more vivid, yet with the Inducer seeming annoyed and deliberately taking the child and the water induction abacus away from the area. Knowing this, I am already entering peaceful dark and undefined liminal space, but quickly shifting into my full conscious awareness.

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This dream is very atypical regardless of having the usual water induction and “return flight” waking symbolism. I rarely shift into becoming the personified preconscious in this way. (Usually, the personified preconscious is a different dream character, completely unrelated to the conscious self. In fact, even my emergent consciousness is sometimes projected as another dream character until waking coalescence occurs.)

However, I am already in bed (in my dream) to prepare to wake for real. I had already enjoyed the (biological) healing continuity of the spherical water droplets imagery. Singing “like a moth to a flame” is a metaphor for the temporary dream self (moth in flight related to the hypnopompic jerk of the waking mechanism) merging into the whole conscious self identity (the flame) and “dying”. The song itself is apparently fictional even though I was sure it was a classic country song by Leroy Van Dyke. The lyric is in “Four Walls” (Jim Reeves) but is a different tempo and melody. (It may be related to the first line of “Four Walls”; “Out where the bright lights are glowing”, as my family and I had just spent the day and evening at a carnival on the outskirts of town.)

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Morning of June 2, 2017. Friday.



I am on the porch of the Barolin Street house (where my wife Zsuzsanna and I and our children have not lived in real life for years) in Bundaberg. However, in my dream, it is implied to be in Cubitis (where I have not lived since 1978).

Even though my dream self is probably implied to be around forty-six years old (I am presently fifty-six), there is also an ambiguous hybrid facet of my fifteen-year-old self. There is a small bookcase on the south side of the porch facing south (though north in the Cubitis orientation), where no bookcase ever was in reality. It is within the open area rather than the back of the bookcase being against a wall. I am vaguely focused on a dream journal as well as a textbook and a couple other books, including a volume from a set of encyclopedias. (These books were in the lower shelf.)

Now and then, I shift into my teenage focus. I look out through the porch windows toward where the neighbors have just driven back to their house. They are walking around near their car, which is parked just outside of their small open carport and facing their carport. Thus, as is typical of this recurring dream scenario, I first see only Lisa’s parents and wonder what is going on.

After a time, I am more within my older perspective and looking at the books again. Still, Lisa appears, having phased through the side of the porch. I acknowledge her presence as she stands facing me, though she remains behind the back of the bookcase. When I look up at her, she seems to be about twelve years old.

Curiously, I notice that she has an animated tattoo on her forehead which has two frames (at the rate of about one per two seconds). The tattoo is somewhat pale and transparent with an embossed essence rather than having much contrast or color, though I can still read the larger of the two frames. It reads as “LOST GIRL” (in uppercase). I do not consider this to be strange at all though I also do not consider any meaning of any kind. The second frame, when it appears in the animation sequence, is not written large enough to read from where I am seated. It appears seemingly as an address (possibly of a dance studio) as on an envelope. To the lower left of the “envelope address” is what looks like a small icon of Earth with a pair of wings. It seems we are both in the process of moving. She stands attentively but we do not speak much.

The preconscious in this dream is of a very atypical essence. It almost seems to be awaiting instructions rather than initiating the waking mechanism, though me facing the bookshelf implies my thinking abilities emerging, thus the preconscious may have already “done its job” by remaining behind the bookcase as I face it.

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There are several meanings (layered meanings in addition to the native real-time meaning), none of which are significant to my present conscious self status. Firstly, it could be a residual thread of how I view people who believe in vicarious “dream interpretation” as “lost” (as I am near a bookcase and with a dream journal), though who am I to judge people who, for whatever reason, believe that things like chiromancy, tasseography, or reading ‘possum bones in a circle cast in the dirt somehow “works” for them. On a personal level, it may simply mean no longer being my teenage self in Florida and the residual effect of traumatic transitions that will always remain a part of my life experience regardless of how happy and loved I have been most of my life, especially over the last twenty-five years.

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• Contrived convenience: Contrived convenience is a common type of erroneous dream rendering where the presumed errors in memory are based on the real-time linear convenience of the particular dream. If not for contrived convenience, many settings, features, and events in dreams could not be perceived by the dream self at all. For example, in this case, seeing the activities of my Cubitis neighbors near their small carport would not have been possible if my dream had correctly rendered the liminal space factor as my Cubitis home’s carport rather than the Barolin Street house’s porch (as the real-life limited view from the Cubitis carport was only to the north, and only partly west and east). Also erroneous is how Lisa somehow came onto the porch through the porch’s side. That is, she somehow phased through the porch wall (and windows), which is where my dream self’s attention was focused, rather than entering normally through the porch door which would have been somewhere off to my right (where I never directly looked). (This term is also used to describe “reality” or linear time as experienced by an individual but I will not get into that here.)
• Dream sign (dream journal): A dream sign (my systemic definition only) is a carryover of the conscious self’s current status of being unconscious and within the dream state. The most obvious type is being in bed. Others include not wearing shoes or socks, being undressed in public, a bed in an incorrect location, and even thoughts of one’s dream journal. Dream signs, like so many other features and events in dreams, have nothing to do with erroneous beliefs in “interpretation” (in the common misuse as a synonym for meaning) that is still so popular with the public.
• Flight symbol: Flight symbols occur as waking symbolism in over one in five of my non-lucid dreams (closer to one in four, or at least over twenty percent) in the tens of thousands of my non-lucid dreams that I have documented and closely studied and decoded. This is obviously because of the subliminal yet anticipatory nature of the purely biological hypnopompic jerk or sleep start, that is, the perception of falling as a natural shift in consciousness from sleeping to waking that often occurs even in infants. It is hard for me to accept that there are people who believe that biological dream dynamics have some sort of “interpretation”.
• Personified Preconscious: The personified preconscious is typically a dominant dream character of a very specific recognizable essence of whom, while usually a different character (either male or female), initiates either the unification, disruption, or cessation (depending on the unique dream self incarnation) of the dream self’s transmutation into whole consciousness within the waking transition. The waking mechanism might be based on anything from activating more threads of the current conscious self identity with augmented emotions (for example, the dream self getting aggravated by feeling imposed upon by a trait unrelated to current conscious self identity) to blissful coalescence (for example, hugging the personified preconscious and feeling bliss or love in coalescence). The preconscious is transpersonal, sometimes the opposite of the conscious self identity, and is often completely unrelated to the current conscious self’s persona or identity (contrary to the ridiculous belief that every dream character comes from current conscious self identity or status, which could not be more wrong).
• Porch as liminal space: A porch as a dream setting is usually a real time metaphor of my dream self’s transition into wakeful consciousness. It represents the state between being in a house (temporary limited dream self’s perspective) and the outside world (conscious self identity’s perspective). It is a factor of my most common waking symbolism, which I have fully validated thousands of times since early childhood.

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