non-lucid

Morning of February 27, 2016. Saturday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are sitting in a parked car in an unknown large parking lot in an unknown area. I am on the left in the front seat, and America is possibly implied as the location. There are only a few buildings around, most in the distance. Still, consciously relative to our present home, I feel that the car is northeast of our home, facing north. It seems to be late afternoon. The sky is bright blue with a few white clouds. There are a few odd partial contrails in the sky, sparsely scattered, that are like truncated C shapes. There seems to be a vague awareness that military activities, mostly related to aircraft, are occurring somewhere in the region. I puzzle over this but I am not concerned about it or wary.

Eventually, I notice a man high in the sky who is piloting a biplane hang glider. At first, he seems to know what he is doing, but at one point, the longer I watch, he seems to be falling (almost as if I am willing him to by subliminal expectation). He comes closer and closer to our car and eventually crashes onto the parking lot, sliding from left to right, hitting the left side of the front of our car with a hard metallic sound and resulting in the feeling of the car briefly moving.

I get out of our car and look to see a number of pieces of the hang glider strewn over the immediate area. At least three of the wings are mostly whole. The male is sitting on the parking lot to the left of our car, about two feet in front of it, with his knees up. I stand to his left about three feet away. He does not look injured at all. I ask him if he is okay and he looks at me as if I am an idiot. (It does seem very unlikely that he did not get hurt or even killed, but he does seem okay.)

Another male is eventually present who seems to be his companion (though he had apparently not been hang gliding) who stands to his right. There are thoughts of whether or not he used a kit to build the biplane hang glider himself or bought it commercially already made. Perhaps he made a mistake in building it, though this is uncertain.

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Morning of February 26, 2016. Friday.



It is morning. My family and I are living in our house as it is now, though there is seemingly much more floor space, especially in the southwest area of our house where our bed would otherwise be. Our youngest children are playing and walking around. I soon notice a miniature lion, which follows them around. This “lion” is only about the size of our youngest daughter. Even so, it soon opens its mouth very wide and somehow swallows our youngest daughter in one movement. I am at first only vaguely startled by this otherwise impossible visual, though because of subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, my dream resets.

In my reset dream, I start to consider that it is not a very intelligent idea to have a miniature lion running around when they could just swallow someone in one gulp. I start to question why such an animal would even be available to have as a pet. Our daughter is swallowed “again” and I sense it will next swallow our son even though our son is about twice its size. Again, my dream resets so that this event did not “actually” occur. I consider getting rid of the lion before it does “actually” happen, though only after several resets. I may chase it outside through the back door. Instead, my dream fades.

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A lion, even a miniature one as here, is an emergent consciousness factor (ECF) of RAS (reticular activating system) modulation. Its autosymbolic purpose is that it swallows the illusory dynamics of the dream state into rational whole consciousness (coalescence) in a similar way as white blood cells swallow and digest solid foreign matter. Dreams are reset like this when consciousness reascension is much slower, sustaining liminal space, indicated in this case by the absence of our bed with the emergent consciousness sentinel in its place.

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Morning of February 5, 2016. Friday.

Dream #: 17,945-05. Reading time: 2 min 12 sec.



I communicate with unknown people. Some of them are arrangements of objects that are not in one cluster, but I still perceive them in human form at times. A table lamp on the floor, books in a bookshelf, and a table leg may equate one person. Even though they seem sentient, an unfamiliar female thinks this type of supposed human is without life and does not have the same rights or ability to communicate.

I quickly climb an unusual structure (vestibular system adaptation). I am atop a big cage. At this level, open enclosures are on each side with spaces from them. Beyond the gap on one side at ground level, is an oversized leopard. Its oblong spots are longer than on a real leopard and its coat more of a brownish tint. I have a concern it could jump up to get to me, and it does. I bite the back of its neck and push it off the top of the cage. As it goes tumbling off, it bounces into another big wild cat which makes it angry. That one also jumps up to eat me. I bite it and throw it off backward.

Two big wild cats come up, one from each side (through each gap on each side). The one on my left seems like a tiger. I somehow bite both of them on the back of the neck in a short time and push them off. I do not seem to injure any of them.

I become part of an experiment using changes in DNA to make the test subjects more like prehistoric people. I am in a big mostly featureless field (at least one end with only high grass) in a rectangular fenced-in area. The others are all men and women who look like cave people from a cheaply made movie. They seem almost like modern humans on one level in that they remind me of a group of businessmen and secretaries. They want to pretend to have a business office even in this unusual setting requiring hunting and survival skills. For this and other reasons, the group annoys me. I pretend that I am “more primitive” than them by growling like an animal. I decide I will have no part of the controlled experiment or whatever it is and go to the opposite side of the fenced-in area where there is a big tree (the only shelter in the area) as well as different food plants. Meanwhile, I keep throwing long spears (which seem to come out of nowhere) at the group. I throw them like daggers, and they spin horizontally like helicopter rotors before reaching their target, either their neck or chest. (That is impossible as the spearhead would hit from its side not suddenly go forward into the target.)

There are about half (five or six people) of the group left. I plan on living on this side where the big tree is. There are a few animals, including a saber-tooth tiger resting in the shade of the tree. I am not threatened by it. It seems more natural and right than trying to live with the group. (They stay on the featureless side of the fenced-in area away from food and shelter.) I sense I will be the only one to survive.

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Morning of January 31, 2016. Sunday.

Dream #: 17,940-03. Reading time: 1 min 10 sec. Readability score: 70.



This dream branched off into today’s volcano and “circling the globe” dream (without any apparent waking transition or consciousness shift other than the second dream situation becoming more vivid over time).

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My wife Zsuzsanna, our children, and I are going to a public Halloween celebration. My dream self does not perceive the presumed October date as incorrect.

I will be wearing a hooded cloak, though I perceive it as light-colored at one point rather than black (of which seems more suitable to my implied character as the Grim Reaper). There is minor difficulty getting it to fit.

My only other costume feature is a silver skull ring which goes on the middle finger of my left hand. The skull is upright when viewed by others when my arm is naturally at my side. There is a slide switch in the back of it that makes its eye sockets shine with brilliant light, so bright that it would light up the street. I see the two beams, but they are not overwhelmingly bright.

As with many of my dreams, I take to the air in flight without thinking much about it. I notice an unknown young girl also flying to the party, ahead of me by about half a block. In these types of dreams, I decide to fly while considering it a completely natural event.

My dream changes into the type where I need to push through barriers at times due to the unusual maze-like layout of various unfamiliar buildings. At one point, there is a very thick window on a high floor of a commercial building. I attempt to push through it and eventually succeed. I walk or fly through walls, with slight difficulty at times. Mostly, I fly around enjoying the view.

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Morning of January 30, 2016. Saturday.



This dream mostly involved a focus on “forcing” energy from my hands. Typically, the energies that flow from my hands in dreams where I heal people is a sort of blue lightning. In real life, I had discussed this with other posters on the dream journal website who had the same experiences. It was interesting that directing blue lightning from one’s hands is not that rare a dream event with certain dreamers.

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This dream does not feature the blue lightning but instead has a sort of “hissing” emerging from the palms of my hands. The force seems less automatic than with the blue lightning dreams; that is, I sort of mentally initiate the sound and implication. My wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are present as we are now. My mother-in-law and Zsuzsanna’s youngest sister are also present. The setting is completely unknown. It seems to be an unfamiliar residence my mother-in-law lives in near a rural area. There seems to be a backstory of her having to move out soon. There are many small items everywhere in her house, including a miniature yellow rubber duck on her kitchen table.

The situations where I mentally force my hands to “activate” certain inherent energies create a sound that is similar to that of a garden hose. Perhaps this is a play on rainfall due to a very intense period of thunder and lightning in reality here yesterday (which knocked our power out for several hours) - and it is interesting that lightning and rain go together and my blue lightning is replaced by the “sound of rain” (again, in a situation that does not involve healing). I do not seem as confident here as with previous dreams of various forms of energies from my hands and I do not seem to have a specific reason for doing it. Curiously, my mother-in-law and her youngest daughter do not act aggressively and obsessively as they do in real life. The energies that flow upward from the palms of my hands seem like small and long transparent cylinders of very pale silver light, almost like a “raining upwards” effect but no feeling of wetness or impression of water. These scenes take place outside at night (or just before dawn) in a rural park-like area.

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Morning of January 15, 2016. Friday.



This dream was really odd in what I first thought was random distortion, though I soon began to grasp at least three layers of meaning in a fairly short time, one layer (the most likely, I think) which I will share here.

I am making love to Zsuzsanna in an unknown and unfamiliar setting - what seems to be a fancy hotel room. The made bed (closer to the cater-cornered door than where we are) has its headboard against the wall. I am directly on the right side of it on my back on the carpeted floor, facing the opposite direction of the headboard (with my feet closest to the table and lamp near the wall). Zsuzsanna is on top, first facing one direction than facing the other (in two different events - the sense of touch and localized awareness of heat being very elevated).

I am becoming more and more aware (though not lucid) and soon notice several miniature wolves (slightly smaller than a cat) running around in midair (at about shoulder height), one directly above the pillow. These wolves are not threatening in any way, just mildly distracting. I start to wonder how many there are or if they will become less chaotic (for example, to form a straight line somewhere).

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My reasoning was almost stumped until my interpretation ability flowed naturally. What do people supposedly do when they want to sleep? Count sheep, of course…miniature imaginary sheep that hop over the would-be sleeper and his pillow and are sometimes imagined as floating in the air. This is inverted on possibly two levels. Instead of counting sheep, I am already in the dream state, so the “opposite” form appears - wolves. They are also not lined up to count, implying the dream continuing without waking (though they still may imply the waking mechanism since dreams often implement opposite “what if” ideas). There may also be an association with sheep as related to the popular non-word “sheeple” to describe unaware people. Wolves imply freedom and intelligence over the unaware conformist. However, something being in mid-air, I happen to know (by being directly told in the dream state) that it may sometimes mean “not getting enough support”, which may relate to my perception of much of humanity as not being very aware - or even interested in their own mind and dream states.

Morning of January 3, 2016. Sunday.



I am flying throughout my dream (with no backstory in mind) yet I do not recognize that I am dreaming at any point, which is curious.

Mostly, my actions are illogical since I probably could just fly off to my right at any time, to find another location or region to land in, but I do not want to land in any area directly below me yet (or off to the left where there seem to be more forests being cut down), where my attention is mostly held. I do not want to land because the area is a very large lumber camp, which seems to go in a continuous arc, though it is not clear what is off to my right from this arc - probably the ocean or possibly an undefined and unrendered area where I cannot “really” go or an implied barrier (divided by liminal space, though I am not lucid enough to consider this possibility as dream-based) which I cannot go past.

It seems that the lumber camp is very active in most sections and for whatever reason, I sense the workers are very hostile to intruders of any kind, including wayward flying people. After all, they are destroying the landscape, so probably would destroy anything (including people) in their path (as I do not reason they are doing it to provide for people as they likely may be). In one way, it seems like a miniature landscape (of about one-quarter scale), but this seems a possible distortion of my perspective. I do not fly close enough to the ground at any point to see that much.

There is another distortion, something almost abstract but related to having to write something in a journal or notepad (while flying?) while just outside the perimeter of this range though which causes additional frustration. My flight path is continuously aligned to the semicircular lumber camp, which seems to go on like this for a considerable distance. This of course makes no sense, as if such was the case, I would be flying in a circle yet I seem to be going in only one direction in my dream and the land features below are consistently different as well.

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There may be some sort of association with circumventing and circumference, as this was one of those dreams that seemed to “self-title” itself after waking, something I have experienced fairly often since around the age of eight.

Morning of January 1, 2016. Friday.

Dream #: 17,910-05. Reading time: 2 min 27 sec.



My computer is in our lounge room in our present home instead of its location in our front room. My desk is shorter in length. I face our front door as I sit at my desk. There are two narrow windows on each side of the door (not a real-life feature). They match the door’s height.

Everything seems fine at first. I contemplate my Windows 95 desktop theme, which features shish kabobs, picnic tables, barbecues, and outdoor scenery. The shish kabobs are pictured on the taskbar, as it seems that each represents a different button. There is a sense of nostalgia as if I am looking at a desktop theme that I had not used in a few years and I feel very relaxed and content.

Eventually, now and then, I notice two human silhouettes looking through the right window near our front door. They lean to their left and look through our window from our porch. It seems to go on for a long time, but I am not concerned. Our front door is shut and locked. (In reality, we have a screen door and a wooden one.) Later, they walk in, with no explanation. Four unfamiliar, unknown people walk into our house. There are three males and a female. Two seem to be from the military. At least one carries an AK-47. One of the men is wearing green and yellow camouflage.

They assume that we are involved in espionage, though it is unknown of which country or government. They wander around in our house to look for documents that might provide them with evidence. It seems suspicious to me that someone representing authority would bring an AK-47 into a residential home with children. They look through piles of mathematics and English worksheets as if signs of espionage might be there. I assume that if they do not find anything they might plant evidence or make something up in their report.

My dream ends as I shout at the four people. Zsuzsanna tells me I was talking in my sleep at the time, which is an uncommon event.

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It is a typical home invader dream, unrelated to real life. It has a basis in how my dream self perceives the reticular formation’s mediation and modulation of the dream state. It often occurs when there is environmental noise detected, and that creates an intruder scenario to cause more alertness to wake the dreamer whether or not there is an intruder present. Being at the computer is a factor of the emerging consciousness.

Dreams typically render everything incorrectly. Here are some examples from this dream. One, the wrong door is present, with the fictitious windows as a preconscious factor to imply it is looking in on me. Two, my computer is in the wrong room. (My conscious self identity is not viable). Three, my desk is different and smaller (neural energies lesser in dream self status than conscious self identity). Four, unknown people phase through the wall or door even though the door is shut and locked (awareness of real-life environmental ambiance that could be fatal if someone is intruding). Five, I do not use Windows 95 and have not had a copy of it for years. Six, our screen door is missing (not existing in my dream self’s “memory” at all) to simplify the implications and commencing of the intruder scenario. Ultimately, if you think your dream’s environment is realistic or accurate enough, there is less of a chance, even subliminally, of waking.

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Morning of December 31, 2015. Thursday. New Year’s Eve.



This dream “came out of nowhere” in the sense that there is no discernible connection to recent real life events or concerns other than upon closer examination perhaps. It begins as a typical “finding and gathering comic books” dream. There is a point at which my wife Zsuzsanna and children and I are walking through a mostly undefined but implied alleyway, one area being near a pawn shop.

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There is an offset dream of moving through an alley and street that is actually more like the aisle of a store. There are various books stacked horizontally on the shelves. I realize they belong to some neighborhood children (rather than relevant to a rummage sale or yard sale as in similar dreams) and do not take them.

The main scenario involves going into an unfamiliar post office. Two younger males work there as postal clerks, at least one (or both) of East Indian descent. Somehow, it becomes known that there are random unclaimed items in shelves in the back. One male gives me a small package as if just giving them to random members of the public to get rid of them (loosely based on an old Spirit comic book Valentine story I read recently). To my surprise, I see that the package is addressed to me, with my first and last name clearly discernible (and it does not change when I read it again). It also has “1997” on the postmark and thus is apparently something I ordered in that year (which was the third year I had lived in Australia from February 9, 1994).

The postal clerks seem cheerful. I wonder why it was never delivered though. I open it up and it is a model airplane, a Northrop F-20 Tigershark, with “F-20” clearly visible on the model. (In real life, my oldest son had started a model airplane collection of about the same size but not as far back as 1997.)

Later, while still in the same general area, though in a hall of the building where the post office is, I notice that the model F-20 is of a very unusual appearance. It takes on the essence of a paper Christmas bell, though also is reminiscent (from the frontal view) of a slightly squashed carnation. This of course is absurd, as only something of expanded radial symmetry could be made as such, but I do not question its appearance. I hold it and look at it feeling slightly puzzled.

Relying on what is available on the Internet relating to any possible meaning, one could get completely confused. I do know the East Indian postal employee represents theft, as my return ticket for refund (worth a few hundred dollars) was apparently stolen by this postal employee who refused to register it (and this was in the news later concerning other mail including numerous packages) and thus there was no record regarding its disappearance.

Looking at the Northrop F-20 Tigershark, its being a model long past due in getting by mail (or “communication” in general), the paper Christmas bell appearance, and the association with the partly squashed carnation is quite complex (it is almost like an airplane-shaped carnation if that is even possible, but it swirls and slopes somewhat to the left from the frontal view - and again there is the idea it was somehow made in the manner of a paper Christmas bell though I do not recall building it in this way). The Internet gives different associations for yellow carnations, though most include rejection or disdain, though if I did not consciously know this, any interpretation as such is meaningless. Personally, it probably relates to mortality as another dream of this day did; suggesting a powerful aircraft becoming like a partly squashed flower, either relating to life energy becoming less viable or something aggressive becoming peaceful. Still, it could yet again relate solely to the waking mechanism, the energy of my dream “returning to the garden bed”.

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This is one of those oddly clever composites. The waking transition is quite long. It starts out with a typical flying symbol, the model airplane, downsized as a normal-looking model at first and quantified in the post office setting. Near the waking stage, the model airplane looks more like a paper Christmas bell, a bell also being a waking metaphor. It also has the essence of a flower, as in “garden bed”. My dream self is puzzled at these unusual atypical layers at the waking stage.

Morning of December 26, 2015. Saturday.

Dream #: 17,904-02. Reading time: 2 min 26 sec.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in the hospital, not due to illness or injury, but we need to fill out numerous documents before the authorities can approve our marriage. It has to do with blood type and other factors. We both have applications to complete. I am annoyed as we have already been in the hospital for at least five days. I am aware of Zsuzsanna’s extraordinary beauty and familiarity in our friendship, yet we are also impatient with hospital staff. I decide that we are going to leave without filling out the last of these papers. I had written an obnoxious response to one question, which I think was all I had written on the document. I fold it up, and we get ready to leave without saying anything to the staff. It seems our examination is partly because of our lack of integration with mainstream culture.

Zsuzsanna (my wife-to-be in this dream) pushes through another patient’s thin curtains that somehow lead to the hospital’s main entrance. She sits down, facing away from the big front window (to the right of the entrance from the inside view). I admire her beauty while I am standing by the hospital’s entrance. She lights a cigarette. I have a false recall she has occasionally smoked before. I am uncertain I could marry a smoker.

My awareness changes. I show off by carrying a long and heavy ladder from the hospital grounds. Many couples are sitting together at small round tables, including several athletes. I shift the ladder to carry it with one finger. Farther to my right is a river or set of railroad tracks or both. I am aware only a few people are looking at me, but I also know that no one else would be able to do what I am doing. I am not sure where I am going, but I feel very happy and assertive.

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In an earlier scene, I am at WWTI in Wisconsin. I do not think I have classes here, but I am exploring the southeast area of the building. It seems to be an auto repair class in the same area it was in real life. (Although I did not go to it in real life, my friend Rick had.) There are classes on two sides of a big (and otherwise unattended) semi-dark room. I think about going to the class on my left, whether or not I am assigned to go, and I seem to in an offset dream. However, I am eventually back in this “mysterious” room in what is likely a “reset.” At this point, I do not feel like going to any classes, assigned or not. Instead, I want to leave through the front entrance (that is somewhat like a machine shop). It seems I may have instinctually sensed my dream’s reset (without fully understanding what it was) so I want to leave the area.

I go to the double glass doors with three black horizontal bars on each pane about halfway up, but they do not fully open. (The bars may relate to a remote or magnetic function, perhaps implying the doors cannot open manually.) There is a set of three double doors in the direction of the public sidewalk, with a space between each set with barely enough room to stand. (It seems the doors might crash into each other, especially if someone let go of the outer ones). I use telekinesis to throw all six doors open at the same time (though with slight difficulty in getting them to remain open at first as they crash into each other without breaking). I confidently walk out of the building.

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Morning of December 24, 2015. Thursday.



…And so now it appears that I enter my yearly stage where the heat of our environment has the most influence on my dream states, at least during certain times in the morning.

Yet again, twenty years or so of memories are seemingly randomly scrambled in the dream state (of course, only certain stages of certain dream states). I am at least living with my wife Zsuzsanna and our children but we are apparently living in some sort of altered version of the Loomis Street house (unlike any other altered version I had seen in any previous dream). A variation of the large reverse-L-shaped closet (that joins two bedrooms somewhat as a “hallway”) is mostly featured here.

At one point, there seems to be a small fire inside the wall, visible through a small hole. When I go to check out the possible source and exact location (and to see how far it has spread assuming it has) and check the other side of the wall, there is an odd “secret” panel built into the wall which I may or may not have known of before, accessible from the front small bedroom (but still hard to reach through to), where there are two cream-colored dials (similar to the design of a 1960s radio), one above the other by about four inches and around the level of my lower chest. Each dial seems connected to some sort of isolated door-latch-like feature slightly above it, in a shallow recess. I am aware, oddly enough, that each dial controls a particular door elsewhere in the house, one being the bathroom, I think, and another, a different bedroom. In order to fully get to the dials, I need to unscrew two screws at opposite vertical ends of the panel. The act of doing this is very “realistic” and palpable, as well as with no time distortions (or typical dream “shortcuts”). I put the two screws on a shelf in the closet at about shoulder level. When I notice a sink in the closet (as if for a bathroom) it does not seem out of place. Regarding the two screws, it seems one is sliver and one is gold. (On a side note, the act of unscrewing two or more screws with such an extreme level of focus, clarity, and tangibility, seems to be something that has only happened in my dreams over the past couple of years or so - it may relate to “opening up” other levels of consciousness though this is not certain.)

When I have easier access, the dials seem to be damaged from either lack of use or from the fire, which I do not presently see. There is some powdery substance around each small “latch” which seems to possibly be disintegrated wood or ash, seemingly causing the dial to not work as it should. I try to see if I can shut the relevant door located in another room by turning one dial, but it is difficult. I ask my wife to check, but nothing seems to be happening other than the other door slightly swaying. The remote shutting of a door in another part of the house by using a small dial built inside a wall is an intriguing concept and I think this is the first time it has featured as such in a dream (at least with more clarity). Still, how would I know when the door was actually open or shut (or locked) without a partner telling me from another room - otherwise I would have to wander back and forth numerous times (I think there is a “message” here somewhere). Apparently, if the latch-like feature above the dial clicks into a certain position (at “12 o'clock), I assume that means the unseen door in another room is shut - but again, it does not seem to work, the feel of the dial being too "soft” where it should probably click in its operation related to the other small feature.

I am annoyed by the failure of the dials to operate either door, either in opening them or in keeping them closed and possibly even locked. I eventually notice a large fire under the sink (with no doors under the sink) again, inside the closet, facing east, where the closet door is. The fire is “supposed” to be there it seems, but seems just a bit too large and shooting out from the sides somewhat. (Of course, there was no sink - or a furnace - in this closet in reality.) My friend Rick S is in the house, possibly just visiting us, and I ask him to turn down the thermostat while I still examine the dials. Eventually, in addition to the adjustment near the sink-furnace composite I realize that the two dials are probably related to the thermostats in two different adjacent rooms rather than what I originally assumed them to be for. No wonder there has been a fire. The dials need to be turned back counterclockwise to at least “10 o'clock” so that the fire and heat is not as extreme.

This dream is based on some real-life associations; firstly, the extreme heat, secondly, several of the doors in this house have always been problematic, opening up shortly after closing them (the back door and bathroom door in fact, needing to be locked to keep them closed - otherwise they will just pop open), and thirdly, one of the doors below the sink is off and needs to be replaced or reset with different holes and screws.

Morning of December 19, 2015. Saturday.



In my very vivid dream, my family and I are back living on Barolin Street (the large house no longer there in reality, having been moved). It seems to be late at night and I am on our front porch with a young version of my brother Earl (deceased) and his last wife Cindy. I am nearest the front entrance, Cindy being to my right, and Earl being to her right. We are all seated on small kitchen chairs. My brother and his wife are facing an electronics setup though I am more to the side of it, what is seemingly a cassette deck to record their conversation and possibly singing. This cassette deck is sitting on a larger feature, which is some sort of computer. There is also apparently a radio. (This is probably associated with a recording which Earl and his first wife Beverly created at North Monroe Street in 1967 with a guitarist of the region, Don Keys, including their singing and his own double-tracked guitar parts on reel-to-reel, which was transferred to cassette copies.) This is where I had a setup in real life prior to our moving, though not exactly as in my dream.

Over time, the face of the vertical-load cassette deck seems detached and loose and is out by about half an inch. I also notice that the front of the computer tower is slightly protruding with a gap. Eventually, I feel a bit of heat and smoke begins to come out.

There is a temporary strange shifting of the situation, like an offset dream within a dream but oddly just as vivid (without a seeming consciousness shift, which is atypical of dreams within dreams). I am then on the far right of the setup and my oldest son, seeming only about twelve years old again, is to my left. I am telling him that he should sit back from the smoke as the smoke seems possibly toxic if too much is breathed in, though at this point, it seems a “normal” part of the recording process and to be expected of the electronic equipment (even though in the main scenario it is not considered as such at all).

Then, I am shifted back into the previous scenario again, exactly the same as it was. I do not really pay any notice to my having shifted into the offset dream but continue trying to work out what is going on with the equipment. The smoke is not that thick but seems to annoy my brother and his wife and becomes more problematic. It mostly drifts northward through our porch.

My brother Earl shows me his wife’s bracelet, which had been sitting atop the cassette deck. “Look,” he says to me, “it’s melted”. He seems slightly annoyed but not angry. His wife Cindy looks on without emotion.

I then notice that my black wallet (of synthetic plastic) had also been atop the cassette deck and has partly melted. It has even come apart into two sections, all of the contents having been singed. I am only slightly concerned. I am not sure if we will continue to work in a session regarding what we had been doing (recording from the radio or Earl singing with his wife).

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Because a cassette deck has two cylindrical rotating features (and especially being a machine), it is obvious now that it is a subtle metaphorical form of the Merkaba. Frankly, I cannot imagine how I have missed this all this time - talk about being “slow”. (In fact, this setting reflects when I experienced it the strongest when wide awake, complete with the intense cilia-like imagery. This also means that I will be able to get additional clues out of a number of past dreams that I had not fully decoded yet.)

The cassette deck being the (partnered) Merkaba is even more obvious with the additional elements which validate this likelihood. Firstly, the melted bracelet is that which symbolizes lack of bondage to something mundanely habitual; in other words, it augments spiritual freedom (or not being “chained” by society’s limited understanding and unrewarding material pursuits). (A melted bracelet equates a removed handcuff.) Secondly, the melted wallet means dynamic spiritual freedom in another way, in the sense of the melted identification card - that is, losing static and mundane associations with any previous presumed identity - or being free of non-dynamic restrictions caused by being “labelled” by either government or consensus or even a particular individual.

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In another way, it could also be a reminder of the ephemerality of the Merkaba. (Certainly, something melting does not always have this association. For example, I have two well-documented dreams of melted bicycles, both having been preceded by having a small amount of alcohol in real life. It is clear to me that, as a bicycle represents both cellular processes and the ability to define travel through “narrower paths” - as well as yet another form of the partnered Merkaba evidenced by the two rotating wheels - that alcohol interferes with cellular processes - “melting” or killing brain cells - and interferes with intended steering or desired direction as well as spiritual relationships.)

Smoke often represents real-time communications with consensus consciousness and (potential) changes of thinking in the dreamer (or the “burning” or dissolving of previous ideas or circumstances). In this case, aspects may be “toxic” because of the limiting nature of some levels of collective consciousness; that is, people who refuse to move on by holding labels over a person or circumstance; they are mentally “stuck” on one time period (or fixed memory) and one illusory facade without the ability to understand transience or natural change, as even rocks are transitory.

Why was my brother Earl rendered in this situation? Since childhood, I always referred to him as the “doubting Thomas” of my family, so at one level, he is the “skeptic” within my consciousness.

Some people have the idea that “being free of restraint” (melted bracelet) and “losing invariable identification” (melted wallet) can only be of negative implications, when that depends on the circumstances. My experiences with the Merkaba tell me that something outside of myself is needed to balance my place in the universe (in other words, my soulmate). My wife Zsuzsanna and I had also made cassettes of our singing together, mostly when we lived on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. There are sometimes many layers to consider in a particular dream, depending on its type. This one seems to have more actual meaning than usual (though not just because it was vivid and non-lucid).

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Morning of December 12, 2015. Saturday.



In this dream, we have a pet penguin. The setting is our present home on W Street mostly as it is in real life. We are in our bed which seemingly has correct orientation regarding the overall layout.

Nothing much happens over time other than the penguin rolling around and standing up near me a few times, mostly on my right (my wife Zsuzsanna being in bed at one point though on my left). It is not really that annoying. The detail seems fairly realistic. There seems to be no stronger concern regarding the idea of being nibbled or pecked even though that potential is vaguely in the back of my mind.

A penguin has wings but cannot fly, so on one level, it is a “failed flight” feature relating to the waking transition, especially when not in its natural environment or swimming. This is validated by my “Penguin in a Jar” dream (1975) where the penguin takes on the symbolism of a fish and swims in a downward spiral deeper within the aquarium and my dream becomes more vivid, because on another level it relates to the dream state itself. The penguin being in our bed and not swimming (and lacking the ability to fly even though it has wings), it is metaphorical for my final stage of waking.

One of my last dreams relating to a penguin was a distortion of the waking mechanism as well, when the alarm clock’s radio came on and I remained in my dream for a time and the announcer appeared in my dream as a chattering (and cartoon-like) penguin, wandering crazily through a random maze seemingly on the surface on a pinball playfield.

Edited for clarity on Friday, 8 April 2016.

Morning of December 12, 2015. Saturday.

Dream #: 17,890-02. Reading time: 1 min 56 sec.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are living in an unfamiliar residence. It is uncertain whether it is the front yard or backyard where the events occur. There is a big shed to my right (from the perspective of the doorway), so it may be our backyard. Two of our sons are playing.

I notice our neighbor (an unfamiliar dream character about my age, but I seem to be younger) is cutting down one of our big trees from his side of the fence (my left), slightly above its height, closest the alley or street. (I should assume alley as it is probably the backyard.) It puzzles and angers me because trees provide shade and keep the yard cooler. I start yelling about it from our doorway though there is no reason why he would hear me due to the noise of his chainsaw. The tree falls into his yard. For a moment, I wonder if he had misjudged what he was doing and was struck by it, but that is not the case.

He goes on to cut down an additional tree of ours that is slightly smaller and closer to our house. I cannot believe his audacity. However, I consider that our trees may have possibly caused problems by their roots being problematic, perhaps relating to issues with the fence itself or something on his property.

I tell Zsuzsanna about it. The room is unfamiliar, and another door to the backyard is present though open. Our neighbor, who does not look like anyone I know, walks into our house with an angry look. I assume this is because he heard me yelling at him.

“You have no business just waltzing into our house,” I say sternly and assertively. Another unknown male also comes into our house. He is younger, perhaps in his late thirties. He may be a man who was also in our neighbor’s yard and helping him.

I walk over to him and punch him hard in the jaw, followed by another punch in the nose. He does not move back but sways slightly. He does not attempt to strike me. Much to my surprise, the other male also starts punching him from his left. I continue to hit him from his right. The other male punches him hard in the stomach a few times. I grab the bar (no weights) of a dumbbell to swing and hit him directly in the jaw again, three times. He almost falls. The other male does not look at me and continues to fight him. For a moment, I think the other man may think my usage of the metal bar is “unfair,” but he never speaks or stops punching the older male. I wake while wondering if the older man angered the younger man by trespassing into our house or otherwise annoying him.

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dream type: subliminal preconscious wall mediation

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Morning of December 2, 2015. Wednesday.



This dream is about as illogical and distorted as they come relating to perspective and focus, though there are a few vivid parts (such as when I read the writing on our ceiling - and for some reason, ceiling writing has only appeared in dreams over the last year or so). The location is unknown. It may be a distorted version of our first apartment on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. The rooms are all in a line with at least two doors opening to a public hall.

Over time, there is a focus on UFO events. This makes no sense, as I am only ever inside our apartment looking at our wall (on the other side of the public hall’s wall only) and ceiling. Still, it is somehow as if I am seeing into the “real” sky at times (though not at all consistent in perspective and awareness). An egg-shaped light moves on our ceiling and down our wall and at one point, seems to direct a ray into a “military building”.

This “military building” (to my left - on the other end of our apartment) turns out to be our television. I go over to it and see a young male (who reminds me of classmate Steve J when he was a teenager). He seems to be in a radio station and there are no other people visible. The ceiling at his location seems to have been damaged and he ducks a couple times as if the ceiling is unstable or shaking, but the scene is not very dramatic. Oddly, I am able to talk to him as if he can see me directly through the television screen. I ask him if he saw the ray of light come down and hit his building but he says “no”. Still, static and distorted horizontal bars appear on the picture after a time and I am wondering what is going on. (As far as I recall, this is the first time I have dreamt of talking with someone in a television broadcast. I do question the logic of him being able to directly see me with no evidence of a camera anywhere on my side - as again, he seems to look directly at me from the screen - but I do not become lucid. We talk for awhile but my dream shifts slightly).

I am then in a conversation with two people that remind me only a little of my sister Carol and her second husband Mel (and there seem to be aspects of other people’s faces integrated, though I cannot be sure who they are). I explain to them how I watch the sky at certain times very late at night or very early in the morning prior to sunrise and always see mysterious lights (lifelong dream focus) - some of which seem natural and some of which seem based on unknown technology. Yet again, this seems “true to reality” as happening all the time, but in reality, such events only happened twice (once in Florida with a slowly moving egg-shaped pale light and once in Wisconsin where it looked the same but was immediately followed by an “explosion” of the aurora borealis).

Eventually, I notice a large lump in our bed, implied head (under the quilt) nearest the wall (our bed lengthways out from the wall near our kitchen door when assuming our Gellibrand Street apartment). I become wary and uncertain how this seeming stranger got into our home and wonder if he is dangerous and I also notice our kitchen door to the public hall is open. I go and get my barbel and hit him hard on the shoulder from the side of the bed though not hard enough to badly injure him. He moves out from under the blanket a bit (without getting up) and it turns out to be my brother-in-law Robert S. This is a surprise but I apologize and ask him if I hurt him that badly and he says “no”, though seeming quite groggy.

When farther back from our open kitchen door, I see writing on our ceiling directly above our bed, in three rows of hand-printed felt-tip marker ink. I read it closely and it says “First faking by Bob. It ain’t here.” Looking back a couple times later, it shows the same text as before (which is atypical as writing often changes when looking back). Apparently, Robert (Bob) had somehow caused all the UFO events due to being annoyed with people believing in such things - but this is not certain because when I ask him if he wrote the message on our ceiling, he says “yes” but later says that he did not do it.

From here, the couple that vaguely reminds me of my sister Carol and her second husband approach me. The male asks me what I want to eat, showing me a large serving tray (what is it with serving trays in dreams lately?) which reminds me somewhat of the layout of a cheap and virtually inedible TV dinner (though about twice the size). I am not hungry and not keen on eating right now and this realization, along with a slight frustration on knowing how to say “no” to the other male, shakes me out of my dream.