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    Non-Lucid Dreams

    1. The Usual Easiness of Hovering and Flying

      by , 12-07-2018 at 08:18 AM
      Morning of December 7, 2018. Friday.

      Dream #: 18,981-02. Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 66.



      I become vividly aware of being in my brother-in-law Bob’s car in the back seat, on the right side. (This subliminally stems from sleeping on the right side of our bed, though my conscious self’s identity is otherwise absent as I have not been in La Crosse since 1994. My dream self’s location in the back seat implies being in temporary isolation from my reticular activating system’s processing.) It is nighttime. The parked car is in the middle of the east side of Wood Street. (This is scene is erroneous, as Bob would typically only park on Loomis Street near where he lived.)

      An unknown male is backing up his car, which remains perpendicular, from the other side of the street, towards Bob’s car. Although I think his vehicle might hit hard, as he does not seem to notice Bob’s car, the back of it only bumps the right side near my door.

      I start yelling at him and leave Bob’s car to go to the front of it. By now, a few other unknown people are present. At least one police officer (a preconscious simulacrum that does not activate) is nearby, but there is not much interaction (due to my level of dream state consciousness in the transition to the next scene). The man remains in his car. I point out to the others how the right front wheel of Bob’s car is now bent, the top at an outward angle. I go over to the left side and see that the left front tire has what resembles a big pile of white cream (or white “clay”) near it that appears as if it had been squeezed out from a short cylindrical protuberance on the tire. (Gamma-aminobutyric acid, or GABA, in its natural form, is rare autosymbolism, yet has appeared in several dreams recently.)

      I walk back to Loomis Street, into the backyard of the house by way of the alley, and enter the house via the back door. As I walk around, I see that everyone is in bed. I want to tell them about the mishap with the car. The house is dark, and I complain that it is before eight o'clock in asking why everyone is already asleep. One bedroom replaces the porch, with the bed visible beyond the living room’s doorway and long ways to it, but my dream self does not recognize this error. At this point, I am more viably subliminally aware I am in the dream state (as validated by seeing people in bed and the RAS precursor of the previous scene not initiating), which triggers the next stage of the dreaming process.

      Vestibular system correlation kicks in as usual at this level of dream state consciousness. I am in Southside La Crosse now, near a group of about seven unfamiliar teenagers, both males and females. I easily allow myself to rise in the air and hover for a time, but I also fly around for short distances. Most of the other people are surprised. I tell them that I cannot understand why people walk over a long distance (such as from one side of town to another) when flying is so much easier. The others take turns rising in the air for a short time.

      From here, an unknown male happily flies with me, including through the service area of a restaurant (caused by subliminal hunger during sleep). I eventually arrive in the parking lot of a shopping mall. However, it also has a vague association with my old middle school in Arcadia.

      The parking lot (autosymbolism for an inactive body while sleeping) usually comes at a closer emerging consciousness stage than does a porch (in which porch, warehouse, shed or garage, parking lot typically correlates with incremental bands of concurrent consciousness in the waking process). There are a few unknown men who are amazed at how I hover and fly around. They talk about gravity and how I am “defying the laws of gravity.” I tell them that flying is a natural activity and that you only have to allow yourself to rise in the air.

      They continue to mention gravity as I walk to the other side of the parking lot, near the street, to prepare to fly again. I cheerfully yell back at them, “If gravity existed as you say it does, then the moon would be stuck to the Earth!” My affirmation stems from how the dream self and its imaginary physicality (moon) is not bound by the physical (Earth).


    2. Of Roof Space, Indoor Rain, and Shouting Palm Trees

      by , 12-04-2018 at 07:44 AM
      Morning of December 4, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,978-02. Reading time: 3 min 20 sec. Readability score: 62.



      At the beginning of my non-lucid dream, I am with an unfamiliar woman (of perhaps twenty) in a fictitious room of the Barolin Street house that is implied to be between the main bedroom and the lounge room. There is no furniture in the room. Despite my lack of viable dream state awareness, I am subliminally aware that I am dreaming.

      My dream self believes that we are awake but that I am ritually inducing the dream state. We are lying on the wooden floor. I am aware of Zsuzsanna being nearby, yet I also do not see the unfamiliar woman as an imposter or trespasser. (This is because she is supposed to be the usual Naiad and melatonin mediator, modeled after a young Zsuzsanna, but because I am not viably lucid, the situation is distorted and integrated with other dreaming processes.) I am teaching her how to enter the dream state by creating the illusion of water as autosymbolic of natural melatonin and as defining illusory physicality within sleep. I cause the floor to transform into shallow water (the typical beginning of dream state entry since early childhood), and we float around for a short time even though it only seems about four inches deep. There is an awareness that I am entering the dream state (even though I am already dreaming). I consider that if the water becomes very deep as we go farther into the dream state, sharks might eventually appear below us, but there is no continuity of perceived threat.

      From here, I enter a more vivid dream segment. There are no thoughts about the unfamiliar woman, who has vanished, or of the previous exercise. Zsuzsanna and our two youngest children are present. There is no longer any association with dream entry or being in the dream state. There is a storm approaching from the south. I look out from the lounge room and see odd clouds, one of them shaped like a top. Despite the several big fluffy clouds being white, they supposedly are storm clouds. I try to create a tornado from the one that looks like a top. Soon, there is a loud crash, and something, perhaps a large tree branch (though I do not see it) comes through the roof above the hallway, leaving an irregular hole. Rain comes in. Zsuzsanna and I look at the damage. I deliberately stand under the rain coming through the ceiling. I feel cool and refreshed, and my dream becomes much more vivid. (I have used water to vivify and sustain my dreams since early childhood.)

      In the next scene, I walk around observing water flowing down the walls from the edges of the ceiling. There is a plastic storage box on a high shelf that I feel concern about getting wet, as it may contain textbooks or my dream journals. However, it does not seem that the water is anywhere but on the walls. Through the windows, I look at the cluster of white clouds again and notice more that are shaped like tops, though I try to imagine more than there are.

      Zsuzsanna and our two youngest children look outside and up from (fictitious) lounge room windows at the south end of the room. It seems to be nighttime now. Near our house are two tall palm trees (not a real-life feature). The palm trees start to move in the wind and soon bow down near the windows and, at first, “roar” at us. Loud human voices, somewhat electronic, come from atop them. I find it curious but not unusual.

      Upon going outside, I see that Isaiah Washington (from “The 100”) is inside a space (as if I am viewing the imagery with x-ray vision) in the fetal position near the bottom of one of the palm trees. He is speaking into a microphone. He loudly and cheerfully states, “This is sector seven.” It seems that another male (though I do not see him) is inside the other palm tree. The loud voices are coming from loudspeakers atop the palm trees.



      The neurological function of the preconscious simulacrum (Isaiah Washington in this case) is to guide the dream self back into wakefulness (which is known as RAS or reticular activating system mediation or modulation depending on the mode of the dream self) - and enigmatic space typically results in an avatar with authority (fictitious or not) as in this case. The fetal position implies being “reborn” into waking life. The bowing palm trees are the association with a form of vestibular system correlation, the emerging awareness (vestibular precursor) of the return to viable physicality upon waking (as the dream self does not correctly discern the physical body until RAS and the vestibular system kicks in, which often results in flying or falling, bicycle riding, using stairs, and so on). It follows the usual autosymbolism-driven formats, in the same order, that my dreams have for over fifty years, though the processes are always unique and intriguing in their rendering.


      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. Kinder Surprises on King Street

      by , 12-01-2018 at 07:41 AM
      Morning of December 1, 2018. Saturday.

      Dream # 18,975-02: Reading time: 3 min 48 sec. Readability score: 58.



      My infra-self’s illusory location of being beyond the nexus of RAS (reticular activating system) separates me from my waking life identity. My infra-self (non-lucid dream self as personified subconscious) loses the viable connection with my unconscious mind in the non-lucid dream state, this personal truth (validated tens of thousands of times since early childhood) being the opposite of what most of modern society naively believes about non-lucid dreams. Only one subliminal thread of my conscious self remains without activating any other until I am in the nexus of the waking process.

      I am in the King Street mansion, in the middle room of the east side of the second floor of the house, where I have not lived for over twenty years. I am wearing a dark blue hooded sweater with big front pockets. I am going to fly to Northside La Crosse, to Marilyn’s house. (Marilyn is an older half-sister on my mother’s side who died in 2014. My infra-self has no memory of her death.) The thought of physically taking to the air to fly has occurred in dreams all my life (even at age three), without the slightest pause of considering it as an impossible act, and of course, it is effortless. Flight and elevation symbols, both projected and inherited, have occurred at least once (typically more) in every sleep cycle for over fifty years. It is vestibular system correlation, the most common factor of the dream state, which I do not pretend has any association with waking life. It merely correlates with the nature of the absent physicality of the dream state.

      I have a total of five Kinder Surprise eggs, all of which are still in the original packaging, though one of them has some of the foil coming off, with part of the chocolate exposed. I decide to eat that one and put its yellow toy container in my right pocket. I put the other unwrapped chocolate eggs in my pockets, three on the left, one on my right, and will give them all (including the toy) to my youngest daughter. (This focus does not bring about a recall of where I live. However, this is the second recent dream where I remembered her while my infra-self was erroneously on King Street and preparing to go to Northside La Crosse, though that one was caused by her speaking when I was sleeping. Also, I never saw Kinder Surprise products in America in reality.)

      I fly to Northside La Crosse. I eat an entire chocolate pie (and appreciate its flavor) in an unfamiliar room implied to be in the Loomis Street house. (Dreams in which I eat something sweet only occur after I drink something sweet before sleep.) After this, I am watching television with my brother-in-law Bob. I do not care much about watching his show, which he comments on at times. I subliminally become aware of the nexus (the precursory association being the television), and this causes me to choose to go out onto the front porch. I look outside from the porch door and see a few unfamiliar people in the dark of late night. (There is no recall of often using this scenario to vivify and sustain my dream. Instead, I succumb to the subliminal awareness that I am dreaming in the next scene.)

      I lie down on the couch on the porch, my head east. My dream becomes much more vivid in this preparatory transition. Marilyn’s neighbor comes onto the porch but appears as she was in the late 1970s. It is dark, but I can vaguely discern whom it is seemingly implied to be. She is going into the living room to see Bob but stops briefly, saying, “Oh, hello Claude, I’m sorry if I scared you.” On the one hand, there were no concerns about this simulacrum coming onto the porch (even though the preconscious is typically domineering at this stage of the waking process in this dream type). On the other hand, she never called me by my real first name in real life, and this error augments my self-awareness, though I remain only semi-lucid and soon wake.

      Hearing my name in a dream usually results in consciousness shifts and level of awareness, as my imaginary dream self is unlike my waking life identity. It causes me to think about who I am, which causes me to wake, though the porch as the commonly recurring “bridge” through the nexus was already extant.

      This entity had the essence of the interconsciousness more so than the preconscious (which seems absent here), which is atypical but has happened in other dreams. It most likely included an emerging but distorted thread of recalling Zsuzsanna. However, why was it apologizing? Does this go all the way back to 1965 when it came as a giant white cat (with a beard) that walked over my chest (one of my first nexus-as-porch dreams)? It may also relate to the bull simulacrum that, as a child, served as a limitation of deliberate dream state vivification and indefinitely sustaining them (which is unhealthy).

      I think that the five eggs are autosymbolic for the beginning of the return to consciousness, as I have five children, though my infra-self only remembers my younger daughter, which correlates with the partially unwrapped egg as the beginning of waking life recall. (This is a no-brainer as “kinder” means “children” in this context in German - well DUH.) Yellow is the color I have always used (since early childhood) to initiate consciousness, whether in subliminal, liminal, or lucid modes. (Plus, it being on my ride side indicates waking process association, as I sleep on my left side with my right more exposed to my real environment.)


    4. My Daughter Upstairs

      by , 11-23-2018 at 11:16 AM
      Morning of November 23, 2018. Friday.

      Dream #: 18,967-04. Reading time: 2 min 52 sec. Readability score: 59.



      King Street boarding house in La Crosse in late morning. (Irrelevant to waking life since 1990). I may have descended the imaginary staircase (though I do not have the memory of it) to sustain and vivify my dream.

      I am at the bottom of the staircase from the second floor, where there is the fictitious feature of an L-shaped foyer where I remain until my dream ends. My landlady comes in from her kitchen and tells me to mop the floor in this area. The mop bucket is to my left. The mop is next to it.

      I do not use any water. I guide the mop over the floor and soon see a C-shaped clump of dust that it gathers and consider if I should tell the landlady that I should sweep the floor first. Soon, I see several Kinder Surprise toys on the floor, one of them a small penguin figure. I move the mop, and they are all in a small cluster.

      I hear my youngest daughter talking from upstairs, though I do not discern what she is saying. My landlady comes in (again from her kitchen) and asks me if my daughter has eaten yet. I am uncertain but tell her that she may have gotten something on her own. I inform her that I will be taking my daughter “to the north side” (meaning Northside La Crosse, to the Loomis Street house).

      She seems concerned that my daughter is on her own upstairs and mentions something about having heard of a boy on a CD, who recently died. (This is possibly my infra-self distorting “TV” to prevent a literal waking life translation, as the unconscious mind is not viably accessible in the dream state, contrary to popular misconception.)



      My dream starts decoding itself a moment before waking. None of our children have ever lived in America, let alone Northside La Crosse (or the King Street mansion on the south side of town either). I do not use the mop bucket, because I subliminally recall that water represents melatonin and potential dream state reinduction (and mopping or cleaning being an inherited biological thread of the glymphatic system, when fluid increases in cells while sleeping). (Because of this, water in the nexus, other than when I am entering or anticipating a return to sleep, never occurs. Despite the presence of the mop bucket and thinking it might be full of water, I never actually look into it and use the mop in its dry condition. Why? Because I am subliminally aware of being in the dream state - non-lucid - and my daughter might need me as perceived by RAS - even though Zsuzsanna is also awake, thus I do not seek to reinduce my sleep cycle.)



      For many years (even in childhood), I have been trying to determine if there is any consistent cause as to which threads of the current conscious self survive the demolition past the nexus and the transpersonal interconsciousness into non-lucid dream space. The infra-self is focused on the transition through the sleeping, dreaming, and waking space, not real life or from the viewpoint of the conscious self identity as in waking life, which ceases to exist in non-lucid dream space (one of many reasons I wholly dismiss “dream interpretation” in the typical use of the term).

      My youngest daughter is the sole liminal presence here based on something presently real in my life (though my dream self has no memory of my current address or that we live in Australia even in otherwise having recognition of my daughter). The reason is that she was awake and talking in reality at the time (in the lounge room) and it filtered through the nexus, the only thread that reached my infra-self.

      The staircase leads down into the (fictitious) L-shaped foyer. A foyer or porch is often a concurrent “bridge” within the nexus in all modes of dream manifestation (subliminal, liminal, and lucid) and RAS (reticular activating system) processes. It is used the same way in hypnosis and meditation. However, a staircase is not just about initiating consciousness in the waking process (or using it to vivify a dream when descending one). It is also about breaking the imaginary physicality of liminal space and becoming aware of the physical body (vestibular system correlation).


      Categories
      non-lucid
    5. A Conspiracy of Lemurs

      by , 11-23-2018 at 07:11 AM
      Morning of November 22, 2018. Thursday.

      Dream #: 18,966-01. Reading time: 1 min 40 sec. Readability score: 50.



      I am looking at the ocean while I am incorporeal. It is near either sunrise or sunset. The ocean’s surface has a purple hue. A drone that I see as firstly flying high in the sky reaches a small island. At first, I do not know what it is. It had been sent to study lemurs. Eventually, I feel that it is invasive and unwarranted. There is a family of lemurs that sits in what is more like an oversized bird nest. An unfamiliar narrator’s voice (very rare in my dreams), as if as part of a documentary, mentions something about the mother lemur and “what she makes of it.” (I hear “make” twice, but I do not recall the full phrase. It seems to imply making something in a literal context but is ambiguous.)

      I am aware that the mother lemur may capture the drone and hide it somewhere, like inside the nest or covered with something, to prevent humans from watching them or discovering where they are.



      Purple (as a dominant feature) is an uncommon color in my dreams (though so is orange) and only dominates when coming up more quickly out of slow-wave sleep, of which the ocean represents the residual essence. (Ocean presence of a vivid discernment, other than its depths, typically only occurs in the last dream of a sleep cycle, whereas rivers, lakes, and streams occur near the beginning of every sleep cycle and often even when I am not asleep, in the first stages of hypnagogia. I associate water with the natural melatonin process and sleep itself, usually hearing the imaginary sound of water as I enter sleep.)

      Lemurs, as well as monkeys, on the fundamental level, are often a precursory subliminal association with coming up out of the dream state, a representation of the infra-self.

      Flying autosymbolism (either projected or inherited) has occurred in my dreams at least once (typically more than once) during every sleep cycle for over fifty years. It is the main factor of vestibular system correlation, the primary process of resolving physicality because the physicality of the dream state is imaginary (which triggers falling dreams, the so-called “waking start”).

      The drone is the emerging consciousness factor in this transition, a non-lucid and often invasive dynamic by way of the preconscious, seeking out my infra-self (the lemurs in this case) to initiate consciousness. A look at thousands of my (non-lucid) dream posts on Tumblr (once autosymbolism is legitimately understood) will reveal the same processes with infinite variations.


      Tags: drone, island, lemur, ocean
      Categories
      non-lucid
    6. The Usual Preconscious Simulacrum Evasion

      by , 11-18-2018 at 01:03 PM
      Morning of November 18, 2018. Sunday.

      Dream #: 18,962-02. Reading time: 2 min 42 sec. Readability score: 53.



      One would think that after over fifty years, the same dreaming and waking processes in the same order and with the same foundational autosymbolism would trigger more viable threads of conscious self identity and recognition beyond subliminal RAS mediation than what occurs at certain stages of the sleep cycle. In this particular case though, my subliminal recognition of the dream state resulted in me resetting it, as had often happened before. My dream was mainly from the influence of a movie, “What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?” (1969), that Zsuzsanna and I watched last night, despite it being of the typical transition through the nexus, which in this case, is a supposedly hidden room rather than, for example, a porch.

      The focus revolves around someone I had supposedly killed, a younger male, possibly accidentally. (The backstory, again based on the movie, is unclear). The urban location is unfamiliar and unknown. The person’s remains are under a commercial business building near a corner. I had somehow done this even though I was not involved in the construction of the building. The Sleeper (the “dead” person) transmutes into a cheerful emerging consciousness simulacrum in the last scene before the offset dream, without my dream self finding it unusual.

      There are many typical scenes of evading the authorities, one of them (the preconscious simulacrum) in particular. The emerging consciousness travels with me after someone finds their remains. The building is already being taken down during this time. (In the movie, the remains were under pine trees.) He (the activated Sleeper aka previously “killed” character) helps me find a secret panel in the wall of a nearby building, in a hall. I first try to phase into the wall (as with many past dreams in subliminal, liminal, and lucid manipulation of the dream state). Instead, a panel opens, and we step into a supposedly hidden area. I reason that going deeper into the area will result in us being less likely to be found as well as being farther from the entrance point (the same “logic” as in hundreds of previous dreams of the same type). (This scenario, naturally becoming the most vivid segment of my dream, replaces the typical porch-as-nexus event, in correlation with enigmatic space as the association between dreaming and waking. It includes “puzzles,” associations with detectives, ambiguity relating to where my real physical body is, and so on. Of course, it is not possible to “hide” from the natural preconscious transition.)

      However, upon walking into another area, the avatar tells me that “this is his office,” meaning the office of the police sergeant that had been after me. I notice how it looks like an ordinary office and is not hidden from public access on one side, finding it annoying that there is not much prospect for a genuinely hidden room. The police sergeant eventually comes in. I reset my dream, and it becomes a scenario where the police sergeant is the one responsible for the “death.” He is supposedly a vampire, which I tell a few people - and I have film footage to prove it.

      I then liminally reset my dream into an offset scenario of the typical vestibular system correlation process. I am helping someone, though only at times, who is in a wheelchair, as we descend an unlikely staircase built of various big stones in an outdoor rural area adjacent to a mountain. (In other cases, I am consciously aware of using this process to sustain or vivify a dream.) We have a little trouble, but we cheerfully descend several steps without incident, even though some of them are two to three feet high. He seems to find it amusing and mostly maneuvers his wheelchair on his own. There is no preconscious simulacrum at this point, only the emerging consciousness (as the otherwise typical vestibular system avatar) in the wheelchair. (This stems from both “What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?” and the new “The Flash” television series, where characters are in wheelchairs without needing to be as a part of their “disguise.”)


    7. Cuckoo Clock Puzzle House

      by , 11-09-2018 at 12:45 PM
      Morning of November 2, 2018. Friday.

      Dream #: 18,946-03. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. Readability score: 68.



      In my dream, I am in the living room of the King Street mansion (which served as a boarding house). I am focused upon the cuckoo clock on the south wall (erroneous location). It seems to be late morning. The owners are presently out, possibly on vacation.

      I want to get to my apartment (in this case the middle room of the east side of the mansion on the second floor), but there is no door. I am using the cuckoo clock as a replica of the house, where it is somewhat like a virtual Chinese puzzle box. I must turn certain sections of the clock to correlate with the real doors of the house. There are also sections that move in and out like slots.

      I consider that I may not still be living here (on a rental basis) and that I want to be in my bedroom before the owners return. I maintain a cheerful attitude even though the entry points of the clock do not perfectly match that of the house itself.



      My dream had the typical dream state components:

      The cuckoo clock (association with flight and the vestibular system correlation of the waking process).

      The clock theme itself (ultradian and circadian rhythm of the sleep cycle).

      The puzzle, and solving it (nature of enigmatic space, where the dream self identity and the conscious self identity are still separate).

      Getting to a bedroom (literal bed space strand and subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, becoming liminal prior to waking).


      Categories
      non-lucid
    8. Motorcycle Mishap

      by , 11-09-2018 at 11:29 AM
      Morning of November 5, 2018. Monday.

      Dream #: 18,949-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 38.



      In my dream, I am in an unknown location, though it is likely implied to be America as Dennis (half-brother on my mother’s side) is present. He appears as he was in the 1970s.

      There is an unfamiliar dream state denizen with me (male, about twenty years old) when Dennis starts talking about taking us on a ride on his motorcycle and even giving us our own motorcycles.

      I am not interested and he becomes very angry, telling me what a great motorcycle he is giving me. There is a long argument of the typical preconscious content (though I am not lucid).

      He eventually leaves. There is the typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity, where I look upon a highway that also somehow seems to be inside an unknown building.

      Dennis has transformed into a foot-long piece of yellow police tape (and my dream self does not consider this unusual). “He” is lying near the middle of the highway. I consider that cars may run over him as he is blown about, but I do not feel any concern.



      Conflict in my dreams (subliminal, liminal, and lucid modes) is typically a result of biologically induced reticular formation simulacra and my dream self’s willingness to correlate with the RAS factor of the waking process, and in lucidity, I am actually aware of this factor (thus there can be no doubt, as real lucidity brings about this knowledge - and an experienced lucid dreamer would know that “interpretation” in the popular sense is a misconception).

      A vehicle typically represents (projected or inherited) correlation of induction (beginning of sleep cycle) or waking (end of sleep cycle) physicality by way of vestibular system dynamics, even before full consciousness is achieved. (The preconscious is active in the waking process before the conscious self identity is, which is probably why many people do not remember their dreams.)

      I have not seen Dennis in real life since 1994 and our minimal Facebook contact has remained cheerful. The yellow police tape comes from two factors, the nexus between dreaming and waking (fuzziness about the conscious self identity when sleeping, and the reticular formation by way of the preconscious as authority over the dream self) as a liminal space divider, and a literal association with the Halloween tape we had on our fence recently for trick-or-treaters (as a fence is a literal liminal space divider in real life, which correlates with the nexus of the waking process being a model as such).


    9. Creating Dream Journals

      by , 11-09-2018 at 09:07 AM
      Morning of November 9, 2018. Friday.

      Dream #: 18,953-02. Reading time: 2 min 34 sec. Readability score: 52.



      My family and I are living in Cubitis (false scenario - Zsuzsanna has never lived in America). There is a computer set up in the northeast corner of the living room (another false scenario - computer technology of this nature did not exist when I last lived in Cubitis). This is a typical false scenario when my dream self recalls my present life status regarding marriage and family, but no recall of where we live, validating that the unconscious mind and valid memory is not viable in non-lucid dreams.

      I had been looking at the dream journal website. I am planning to capture all of the content in scholastic loose-leaf binders (3-ring binders), similar to the appearance of my dream journals from 1968 to 1979 (after which I used much bigger binders). I have a dark blue binder full of content from 2018 (and I erroneously perceive 2018 as being “last year”). There is a white rectangular label that reads “2018” on the cover.

      Over time, I create more binders (out of nowhere, on thought alone) by writing over the label on the first binder first, and then on each next label. I write a “7” over the “8” of 2018, and an additional binder appears on the table for 2017 content. I do this several times for different years. I start looking through them when I have about six. On the first page of one journal, someone had written information about a dream, but the small paragraph seems to be solely made up of several distorted (misspelled) variations of my first and last name. However, I know that it is not related to me, but I find it curious, for example, “clauc lc duc dua ld cluc u alc ac au.” I can make no sense of what it is about. I consider that the entry might be at least partly in Latin.

      I accidentally write a “1” over a “0”, so that it reads 2108 in the resulting new journal (which was supposed to be 2008), which suddenly expands, fanning more pages than any other binder and causing the binder to be too full to close, but the pages are all blank. I will it away and continue with other content. I go back to 2001 (when the dream journal website was first online) before waking.



      Literal dream space threads are common even in my non-lucid dreams. My dream self’s real-time focus is typically on the dream state itself, and its dynamics and mediation (whether in subliminal, liminal, or lucid modes), therefore “interpretation” (or what people call “meaning” rather than genuine concurrent causation) is a major misconception, probably the biggest misconception regarding any subject in human history. In fact, it can be clearly understood that creating events and features by thought or anticipation is evidence that I always know when I am in the dream state whether or not I am lucid, and non-lucid dream control is a primary factor of my dreaming history.

      As shown by my keyword statistics on one website, reading is one of the most common activities in my dreams, though words and phrases often change when looking again or change into gibberish. The only activities more common than reading in my dreams are music-related and flying (not counting interaction with water-reinducers or summoning related simulacrums). This developed out of personal will to become more aware in the dream state (and it is a more common “reality check” for some oneironauts, though I do not use “reality checks” as it undermines reticular formation function). I got this idea from my mother, who often dreamt of reading, and her knowledge of how writing typically changed in the dream state when looking again, thus I have always used reading as a potential precursor to stabilize the presence of my conscious self identity in the dream state (not as a “reality check”).


      Categories
      non-lucid
    10. King Street Kitchen Birdcage

      by , 11-05-2018 at 07:58 AM
      Morning of October 31, 2018. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 18,944-03. Reading time: 1 min 48 sec. Readability score: 72.



      I lose my conscious self identity in a later water reinduction stage. I am still in a canoe that is floating through a marsh, probably Mink Slough. Two unfamiliar children are with me, a boy and a girl. I am young as well, though possibly about eighteen.

      The water seems shallower at one point. There is much vegetation protruding from the water’s surface. The plants are multicolored, that is, different colors in different sections. Someone had coated all the dried-up leaves with a few different colors of spray paint, including blue, red, and yellow. I consider that it was a thoughtless act, as it will likely cause environmental problems.

      Eventually, we reach the bank and leave the canoe. The King Street landlady has given the children a task to build what I first think is a rabbit cage. (This is an association with early childhood, as my father had a rabbit farm.) There are pieces of wood, screen, and wire to use to build the cage. They are in a pile near the south end of the King Street house. I decide that I will help, but the boy had already built a cage when I pick up a few random boards.

      In the last scene, I am in the King Street mansion’s kitchen. There is a birdcage where the sink was in real life. The boy may have been cleaning the cage already, as when he leaves the room, there is birdseed stuck all over his face. He does not seem to care.



      Curiously, the last scene was from a minimal thought while watching “Cargo” (2017) last night, when the girl Thoomi was eating something and got seeds or crumbs stuck on her lips and face. I have always found it astounding how the non-lucid dream self can take one fleeting impersonal trivial thought and make it part of a dream scenario. The movie was about zombies, and yet I have never dreamt of zombies in the apocalyptic sense. (In a dream from 1981, they were based on the original usage of the term as slow-moving sleepwalking slaves, but were revealed to be actors.) I think it is because of how they move so unnaturally in such movies when my reticular formation and vestibular system mostly only create fluid movements in dreams. That, and it is difficult to imagine very sick people as being stronger or faster than healthy people.

      The common melatonin mediation factor appears here (as occurs one or more times each sleep cycle). It starts with water induction and ends with vestibular system correlation (the boy in the kitchen as the vestibular simulacrum leaving the birdcage - and note how the birdcage was where the sink was in reality).


    11. Tackle Shop Bookshop

      by , 10-30-2018 at 01:58 PM
      Morning of October 30, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,943-03. Reading time: 2 min 38 sec. Readability score: 62.



      My dream renders a mixed-up combination of a pawn shop from America, a bookstore from Nundah (Australia), and a tackle shop from America. It seems to be late afternoon. I am on my own, with little conscious self memory (even though Zsuzsanna and I frequented the Nundah bookstore years ago).

      There is a backstory, and false memory, about how I had traded several packs of long bookbinding screws (at least four inches in length) for credit or to trade, though I do not recall all of the details. There are two unfamiliar female cashiers present who are in their twenties. (The bookbinding screws relate to my big stamp album binders from when I lived in Florida, though there are likely associations with similar screws I used for putting the swing set together after Christmas.)

      I am carrying a winter jacket (though mostly slung over my left shoulder). As such, I try not to appear suspicious, as I also have items I had brought into this store. I consider that they might think I am taking them from their store and trying to hide them under my jacket. (This is a literal bed space strand, as subliminal awareness of the bed sheet pulling around my left shoulder.)

      They seem puzzled (and express disbelief) when I infer how I had traded items previously. The shelves that had packs of bookbinding screws are now all empty. For some reason, they are to do with fishing tackle, but my dream self does not reflect upon this error. The owner is at the back of his store, but I do not approach his counter. (I perceive him as the owner of the pawn shop in La Crosse, though there are also associations with the owner of the Nundah bookstore.)

      One of the women asks me if I want to buy one of the bigger bass plugs, but I respond that they are too big for the type of fishing I do (which includes striped bass and smallmouth bass for which I prefer small jigs and spoons). I then walk to the opposite side of the store. I see that they are selling magazines and comic books, though there are only a few different titles on the wooden display shelves.

      I see two Casper comic books next to each other. There are a few copies of each, vertically stacked. One is $4.53, and the other is $5.64. I decide to buy them, but I am not sure if I have enough money. An unknown chubby man of about twenty (who works in the store) picks one up to look through. I tell him that I had hundreds of Casper comic books collected over thirty years and that they were usually different. I add that sometimes there were reprints in digests and suggest their size by forming a small square with my hands. I tell him about those digest stories being “backed up” in the way I would describe how I back up my dream documentation online and on more than one drive.

      As I walk to the checkout counter on the opposite side of the store, he calls out, saying something about “sending backup.” The reference seems humorous or business-related rather than inferring police activity.

      I reach into my wallet and see that I have solely an American twenty-dollar note, which will suffice, even though I consider the prices on the comic book covers will be more when changing to the Australian amount.

      I pay the cashier, and as I get my change, I deliberately, though liminally, reset the scenario and leave without paying.



      When the emerging consciousness simulacrum (the chubby male) was talking about “sending backup,” it became a comically sarcastic reference to me subliminally resetting my dream to deliberately manipulate the function of RAS (reticular activating system) as the preconscious simulacrum in the second instance by “erasing” the cashier’s presence. I have utilized this sort of dream control and subliminal, liminal, and lucid manipulation since early childhood.


    12. Fun with Nitroglycerin

      by , 10-30-2018 at 08:00 AM
      Morning of October 30, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,943-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 71.



      I become aware of being on the Loomis Street house’s porch (liminal space) where I have a galvanized metal washtub full of gray powder with silvery properties. It is supposed to be nitroglycerin. I had supposedly ordered it via mail-order. My brother-in-law Bob (appearing as he was in the 1980s) cautions me that the authorities might find it. I keep the washtub near the northeast corner, not that far from the porch door. I am aware of Zsuzsanna and our children at times. Our youngest son went with our oldest daughter east down Gillette Street (where there were no stores in real life, though my dream implies there were).

      I read a brochure (that seems foreign, possibly from the Philippines) that claims its appearance is like that of soil to anyone who does not look at it closely. (There is no distortion in the text I read, though I do not attempt to read it the second time.) The detail is very realistic and precise, including the silver grains.

      I make it into tiny “snowballs” that I throw to the porch step outside. It makes a loud sound like a big firecracker. I claim that a golf-ball-sized amount would be like a nuclear bomb, though there is no evidence of that and I make no attempt to prove it.

      I have fun with it, and my tangibility is enhanced. At one point, I see what first seems like a detached arm, with a hand, crawling on the branch of a tree, grasping at a small teddy bear. It turns out to be a Halloween toy for a dog (and is mechanical, not organic). An unknown woman is looking for her dog.

      Later, even though I am still on the porch, it also seems I am in an outside area. Flowering plants are present to my left. I toss some of the powder onto the sidewalk, directly in front of me, without pressing it into a small ball. A fire soon covers the area, but I stomp it out with my foot.



      This dream stemmed from an earlier one of watching Dean Norris (as the vestibular system simulacrum) and two unknown people work with nitroglycerin. There was a scene where they were climbing what looked like monkey bars (from my elementary school’s playground) or scaffolding coated in nitroglycerin. It was on a stage (like the one from my high school). A quick small fire moves over all of the structure, immediately going out, and Dean appears to be worried for a short time (as he remains vertically holding onto the bars about halfway up and to the right), but no harm comes to anyone. He talks about how dangerous it is. I am puzzled as to why an actor would seemingly risk his safety for a public service video.



      I believe that the mechanical detached horizontally-oriented arm crawling on a branch to the teddy bear is a literal bed space strand, though seems to be the only first-level one in this dream.


      Categories
      non-lucid
    13. Beatles in the Barn with Tiger

      by , 10-25-2018 at 08:16 AM
      Morning of October 25, 2018. Thursday.

      Dream #: 18,938-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 83.



      In late morning, I find myself in a big barn (in an unknown location) that serves as a recording studio for the Beatles. There is much sound equipment on hay bales and the barn floor, such as big amplifiers and mixing consoles, but I do not see any musical instruments. There are a few unfamiliar men present, one being a producer, another, a sound engineer.

      While a man is checking a track, there is an unusual drum fill where the snare audio reverses at least twice. The man is puzzled and asks Paul McCartney what that was, but he does not reply. A different “drum fill” is heard, but it turns out to be someone knocking on the barn door. (This scene is ambiguous for two reasons, one, a door knock would not have reverse audio and two, the sound came from the equipment.)

      A man comes in with a tiger that belongs to John Lennon’s wife (Cynthia Powell). He pets it for a short time. There is no sense of danger.

      Later, there is an unknown man with a Bainbridge livestock prod. He taps the tiger with it on the rump, and John and the man with the tiger slowly leave the barn. They seem cheerful. Next, the man uses the prod on some farm animals. He touches the rump of a horse with it to get it to move to the corner of the barn. The horse seems annoyed but goes where the man wants him to go.

      I do not see any of the Beatles at this point and decide to leave the barn. I go around to the back and see a young version of Zsuzsanna, who is about eight years old. However, my real-life identity is not extant in this dream, and so my dream self does not recall who she is. There is a cage adjacent to the back of the barn. There are at least three brown-mantled tamarins in the cage, a mother and two babies. Zsuzsanna is sitting on the ground watching them. She does not speak. I hold the paw of the mother tamarin, stroking the fur on the back of its “hand.” It seems tame.

      Later, I get up and go back into the barn, which is now empty and full of hundreds of flies that start buzzing in my face. The air is thick with them, and they are loud. I soon decide to leave the barn and slowly wake after I walk back out. As I wake, I realize that the illusion of the flies was a distortion of the sound of the fan and its air on my face (from the foot of the bed).



      Two other dreams came before this, one of sending many DVDs over time to a member of the dream journal website (a long-term male poster). The other related to capturing each instrument from the Beatles’ “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” to use virtual versions (mostly on keyboards) for a live cover.


    14. Brunei Water Village

      by , 10-24-2018 at 04:24 PM
      Morning of October 24, 2018. Wednesday.

      Dream #: 18,937-01. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. Readability score (optimized): 60.



      My family and I (in my dream’s fictitious backstory), mostly as we appear now, had been living in Kampong Ayer, a Brunei water village, for about a year. Other than this fallacy, my conscious self identity is extant, though I am not lucid.

      There is a vague concern about my dream journals becoming damp, as there is a false memory that I keep them on the floor, where there are gaps in the floorboards directly over the water. However, I do not act upon these thoughts.

      While outside on the boardwalk, I notice that two of our curtains had moved out to the outside of the window and had become submerged in the water by about two inches. I also see a curved board on the outer wall, warped from dampness, about halfway up on the outer wall.



      The curved board is a literal, though indoor, real-life feature near our lounge room ceiling. It was caused by the indoor rainstorm when our roof was torn off in November of last year.



      Common strands:

      Melatonin mediation and circadian rhythm (The presence of water and its specific forms and dynamics is a temporal association with the sleep cycle)

      Literal dream space strand (Literal association with dreams while in the dream state, in this case, thinking about my dream journals)

      Curtains and window as a specific level of division between dreaming and waking (Common factor of subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, though I have often used curtains in lucidly and non-lucidly controlled dreams)


    15. From Parking Lot to Smoking Newspapers

      by , 10-23-2018 at 08:04 PM
      Morning of October 23, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,936-03. Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 69.



      As my non-lucid dream self, holding no viable threads of my real-life identity, I become vividly aware that I am sitting in the back seat, on the left-hand side, of an otherwise empty car in the Village Shopping Center parking lot in La Crosse. It is nighttime. I become aware that the car belongs to my brother-in-law Bob. (I have not had any contact with Bob since 1994, over twenty years ago.) There are only two other cars present.

      An idea comes to my dream self’s fictitious mind that I should go to the driver’s seat and take the car back to the Loomis Street house. I am feeling very cheerful and confident. I get out on the left-hand side and go around to get in the front seat. (This is really about the typical initiating of subliminal control of the dream state and has nothing to do with waking life or “interpretation.”)

      I get behind the driver’s seat. It is difficult to close the car doors, and I try several times. They are flimsy and not like real car doors at all, but are about as efficient as a dream can make something that stems from vivid non-lucidity. (It would have been better letting the dream play itself at this specific point.) I have no idea how to start the car. I have no key. I first consider that it starts like a lawn mower, but I do not see a recoil starter assembly. There is a small metal lever on the left side, below the steering wheel. I put my foot on the gas pedal and wiggle the lever. Gasoline starts pouring from underneath the full length of the dashboard. That concerns me. I do not want to incur the risk of something catching on fire. I get out of the car, and two unfamiliar men get out of their cars and come over to help me. At this point, as the men check over the car, I anticipate an explosion (an attempt at subliminal dream control), and I tell them to move away, but nothing happens.

      I decide to walk to the Loomis Street house. On the way, walking east on the north side of Sill Street, I notice many boxes of magazines on the boulevard. It is a recurring situation where I realize I can take what I want (as I am deliberately though subliminally creating this scenario at its foundation, knowing it is a dream on one level), as it is left out for garbage pickup. It is also late morning. My non-lucid dream self does not register the impossible time change (as is always the case). I find a stack of magazines that are black-and-white collections of Nancy comic strips (by Ernie Bushmiller). Looking around more, I also notice stacks of interior decorating magazines, which I have no interest in at the time. This part of my dream comes from the lifelong practice of trying to initiate viable emerging consciousness threads by focusing on sustained reading skills of which do not ordinarily exist in the dream state.

      I arrive at the Loomis Street house. My sister and mother are there and seem healthy. My dream self has no recall that they are deceased. A minimal thread of my conscious self identity emerges, but it is rather odd. I vaguely recall the concept of marijuana from Nimbin, yet I have no memory that I have lived in Australia for over twenty years or of my real-life status. (Additionally, I would never try drugs in real life under any circumstances, another factor that validates my dream self is not my true conscious self identity.)

      I have some “marijuana” that I smoke with my mother and sister. It is rolled-up full-sized newspapers. There is trouble keeping them rolled up, and they burn with big flames, though I still suck in the fire and smoke. As I focus, I am astounded by my vivified perception, and yet I am not lucid. I start to become puzzled as I enter enigmatic space (a specific level of the dream state). I realize, though vaguely, that there is no marijuana and that smoking newspaper is odd.

      I start to wake, realizing what my dream self had been creating. Fire is the emerging consciousness and often part of the waking process. The newspapers, at least as related to reading them, are the attempt to sharpen my perception, as I had tried to do in the previous dream segment, but it did not initiate lucidity, only revivification.


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