non-lucid

Morning of August 8, 2014. Friday.



The main plot of the dream oddly related to my grandfather George. For some reason, time (as well as location) is quite ambiguous (in fact, he was born in 1871 and died in 1945 - long before I was born), and he is alive and fairly healthy even though I am also aware my father had died, so there truly is some strange new ambiguity I have not had before in that I also do not recall having had George in any of my past dreams either. Even more unusual, he is a celebrity relative to music (particularly in the 1920s) prior to my father and had taught him guitar and such - which is all distortion - my father was the one who was more well-known. The location seems to be the southwest room of my sister’s old house on Loomis Street. Along the north wall (near where my mother’s refrigerator was at one point in the past) is some sort of odd composite of jukebox, radio, and cassette tape player, about chest-high. Sometimes the tape gets chewed by flowing out when the capstan gets jammed (recurring). I am aware that he is in the living room at one point.

At one point, my daughter is in the room (and my two youngest sons for a time) - not sure which daughter (it seems to be my oldest but several years younger in-dream, though my youngest is not yet two). Somehow, a bit later, her head or only the right side is there but she is not. When looking at “her”, I am able to “remember” that the right side of her head is unusual in that her ear is not fully defined in that there is no lobe or any “other side” of any of it and her ear is actually only the three-dimensional outer shape itself over her skin, which seems regrettably unfortunate and which apparently was some sort of fictional birth defect. This clear but false memory is not a trigger for lucidity, either.

There were several other random miscellaneous events I do not quite fully recall, a few relating to fictional (or “too advanced”) 1920s audio technology, I think. Odd hodgepodges of fictional “memories” being “relived” is not all that uncommon in dreams.

Morning of August 4, 2014. Monday.



I am on Loomis Street in La Crosse and it seems to be very late at night at first. Eventually there is the knowledge of an explosion to the east. Once again there is, for some reason, a focus on going east on Gillette Street (recently recurring only - though it did recur somewhat in dreams of around ages five to six as well).

There is apparently a nuclear bomb dropped to the east, but it is only a “practice” one that is meant to implement data on some sort of social study. There is no actual danger. However, a very thick but white “cloud” or fog exists in the area east of where I am, stopping precisely at Loomis and Gillette, and it is supposedly very difficult to walk through, which seems relevant to the beginning “test” or “experiment”. Drivers of cars cannot see where they are going, either, other than fairly close to the car, and require bright headlights to see anywhere at all. There is the idea after I try to walk near the area, that it is probably unsafe to even attempt to go very far in the fog. I have an idea that cars may not successfully travel the street and beyond, either. So, the first time I plan on walking through, I change my mind, but I am ready to go through a short time later.

Still, regardless of the problematic nature of maneuverability and lack of visual orientation, a number of people must get to work by walking. Many of them are Japanese and work in the same area at a fictional local business. Most do not seem that concerned about being able to get to where they are going. I eventually walk through the fog again, noticing a few other pedestrians in random locations, a couple of them even walking down the middle of the street. I experience an interesting perception as I enter and am able to find my way through without going off the side of the road. I am aware of an area that goes over a smaller bridge. I end up at an area that seems like some sort of resort and things can be seen a bit more clearly.

In a way, I am surprised that I do not become lucid, especially as I had recently mentioned to my wife that, even though it is somewhat of a movie and television show cliché, certain types of dreams (especially in childhood) have had a mist rise from the ground or floor (but usually only several inches high). I am not sure if this is a “borrowed” cliché that is sometimes utilized by a particular dream state, or if it is just a natural feature of dream states in a metaphorical sense of some kind. As such, it has still never worked as a trigger for lucidity and always seemed a “normal” part of my dream environment in both inside and outside settings.

Morning of August 3, 2014. Sunday.



This dream was the same morning as “The Right Student” (posted only on a couple sites) and was quite long and vivid (more vivid than the other dream). It also has a couple of the “same” scenes and overall theme as from my wife’s dream of the same period of time.

At the beginning, I am aware of an approaching time of tsunamis and floods that will basically destroy much of the world. This is different than other flood dreams, in that the “tidal waves” are unnaturally large (even as high as the atmosphere itself) and widespread, going up and over entire regions. I am not sure of my dream’s location. It may be Brazil.

There is a point near the beginning where my wife and I seem to have about twenty children (as well as our own real ones being in-dream) or more (all around the same age of about four to ten) - yet they also seem to just appear out of nowhere somewhat like in-dream tulpas, or possibly orphans from previous flooding elsewhere. Still, they all refer to me as their father over time as if this is the “reality” as such. I carry a few here and there. This is before the larger waves approach. It seems to be in a large park just outside the big (unknown) city.

Later on, I and a few others plan to save a small group of people, to be the only ones left alive on the planet. This seems fairly effortless even when my mental focus is less “precise” (this is not a lucid dream - I take it all as “reality” at the time). When the tsunamis come, they are extremely high and destroy many buildings. However, I have some sort of detailed and “automatic” (survival-oriented) telekinetic nature and am able to cause the water to flow around aspects of the sky and land - there are several points at which the tsunami moves around from what seems to be a huge “invisible dome” created by my telekinetic will, though it is a force and not of any material.

At various points, we are in buildings that are eventually destroyed. One scene involves an elevator shaft (much the same scenario as my wife’s dream) and another, going out a window of a second or third floor where the water is up to. It is interesting how no one in my localized group is injured or easily washed away as others are.

In one scene, two cars are going down a road towards where my group and I are. A huge wave slams into one car, carrying it from the road and into the trees while the other car, only a short distance in front of the other, is saved by the forces that block the water under my will. People are glad to be safe in what is technically “the end of the world” - as the waves are worldwide and covering most of the planet. This implies that we will have to live on a makeshift raft-like structure at some future point, I think, although I am able to mentally rebuild a building here and there - even in a scene where water has destroyed a part of a building and where the water is “frozen” in position (though still moving and “cycling” in that isolated position) and bricks float about within the “held spray” before realigning. I save a few people from drowning by mentally lifting them from the water as well as creating an invisible “wall” in some scenes.

Again, I am not lucid, yet find it interesting that my telekinetic ability is so “automatic” and effortless throughout (and I am not worried that I will perish), although I sense that others are adding to this overall force at times with their own focus and survival instinct. There is also the nature of the water itself, which often seems more reflective than water in real life as well as having its own light-making properties. In some dreams, water and light seem to be some sort of hybrid composite that is not possible in reality.

Morning of July 28, 2014. Monday.



I am in an undefined indoor location in my dream but with somewhat of a sense of being in the Barolin Street house (where we moved from in the beginning of 2008), though there is also a lesser awareness of the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield (our first home together). Zsuzsanna is present in some scenes.

My attention is on a plastic doll of 18 inches of the generic kind that represents a female toddler in standing position, dressed in 1890s fashion. Apparently, I had gotten this doll in the mail recently. I notice a number of signatures of former schoolmates and friends, most written in either blue or black ink. The handwriting is mostly on the lower arms, hands, and legs of the doll.

Wrapped sparsely around parts of the doll is at least a four-foot length of sections of retied “wire”. Though it looks like barbed wire, it may be craft sinew. There are only a few twists around each limb and a few around the body. The “wire” firstly seems soft even at the junctures of the knots.

There is also a small booklet that is tied on with a small thin ribbon around the neck, which seems to hold a series of messages from different people over time and intended for anyone that temporarily has the doll before they mail it to someone else, the tone of the writing somewhat like that found in a typical school yearbook.

The doll also apparently serves as a fancy friendship book (FB), which is sent from person to person for each to add their contact details. (This was common practice for penpals, though some of whom annoyingly and intentionally collected the booklets and foldables of various themes, styles, and materials instead of passing them on). I am not sure who to send it to. I read a message from Toby, my best friend from school. He talks about what a good idea this “friendship book” is.

Later, there is a second doll, seemingly of which has not passed via as many people. The second one has sharp and thick barbed wire around it in a few areas of the limbs and body as well as a small part of the head. A length of it is disentangled and somewhat loose.

I consider sending both of the “friendship books” on their way, but I feel a bit uncertain because of the potential harm the projecting barbed wire (on the second doll) may present for those I send it to (or anyone handling the package itself assuming it is wrapped in paper rather than being sent in a box). I test the possible danger by moving my hand against the wire to make sure it is flatter and not of a potential to accidentally cut someone, but I soon come to believe that it would not be a good idea to mail either doll.

My dream starts to lose cohesion. When I look at the second doll again, it has transformed into a flat cardboard cut-out doll of the same frontal appearance. It begins to separate into sections and copies of those same sections, relating to a potential to then rebuild it, even the nose then needing to fit into the face of which has a cut-out circle where the nose cut-out would fit into, as well as a redundant additional full face cut-out. Eventually, the aspects of my dream change to where the transformed doll is apparently now a paper tole or 3D decoupage project. The “barbed wire” seems no longer present or relevant. I am not sure how to proceed, as it now seems a more time-consuming task to meet the responsibility of passing on the school reunion addresses, messages, and signatures.

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One layer of my dream was an incidental distortion of “wiring someone” as in sending them a message. However, barbed wire is associated with a fence and a fence typically represents a division between dreaming and waking (especially the higher preconscious level). Additionally, a doll typically symbolizes the status of being asleep and inactive while in the dream state and thus is not usually a symbol of real life relevance. I consider this dream important with respect to that understanding as it also redundantly validates a doll as of a specific level of unconsciousness due to the parallel symbolism of being “of a fence” (liminal space divider) as well as how being unconscious limits the movement of the physical body. There is an additional revelatory feature of the friendship book element regarding the transpersonal nature of the preconscious (closer to the collective unconscious than either the dream self or conscious self identity, relating to both static and dynamic influences from other people, though depending on the personal will of the individual).

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It was my dream self’s focus of intent that transformed the doll into flat cardboard and thus changed the original nature of my dream. Recall that I was deliberately checking to make sure the wire was not sharply protruding outward, so this was non-lucid dream control, not lucidity as I was unaware that I was dreaming in this case.

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Revised, clarified, and simplified for the casual reader on Sunday, 22 October 2017.

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Morning of July 21, 2014. Monday.



In this dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I (as we appear now) seem to be living in a distorted version of my (deceased) brother Earl’s house on St. Cloud Street (though the furniture is in different places), though not with viable memory of my brother having ever lived there; a place I had not been in for over twenty years. (This house does not appear either on its own or as part of a composite as much as other houses I have been in in real life.)

I notice our baby daughter has a skin condition similar to our oldest son’s though “bubbly” and more raised. Oddly, this seems to be because she has eaten a lot of chocolate recently. (A part of this thread might be precognitive, though I would not know until years from now as in many other cases. For example, I saw exact imagery relating to our oldest son’s condition many years before it developed.)

Other people that do not all live there seem to be in the area but are outside near the mailbox (a precursory emergent conscious factor, though may also relate to mental communication with someone else). They are having a conversation near the front porch (the main door is open; only the screen door is closed) regarding the receiving of letters (possibly medical bills) about “cluster phobia”, and apparently one of them or someone they know had “cluster phobia”, which seems to be something about a cluster of different events at once. This sounds a bit like “claustrophobia” of course, but I have never had it, so it may just be typical dream state gibberish due to the lack of language skills while unconscious.

A diatryma (which is only as big here as a larger emu and similar in movement) comes into the living room where my family and I are and this does not surprise me at all. I seem to remember it is our pet (and I consider that we may have others like it). It is not threatening. However, I decide I will literally sacrifice myself to make sure my family has better health and a good life when I am gone (as well as to cure our youngest daughter from her supposed allergy). I find myself with a normal chicken egg and throw it to break it on the wall and the diatryma eats it from two different areas; where it hit the wall and cracked open, and the rest from the floor near what looks like part of a broken chair or table leg lying on the floor. There is a very vague awareness in the back of my mind that I had been certain it was a chicken egg and not one of the diatryma’s eggs.

I move forward and bow down to sacrifice myself with the focus of my intent precise and expectant. However, the bird mostly only pecks me hard on the head (as if in an attempt to make me more alert to its presence) and then acts like a dog or cat and rubs against me, walking about on each side of me. It then seems to leave the scene. I sense that it sees me as an important human companion and would never harm me, despite my willingness to sacrifice myself to it.

Later, my dream takes on a recurring familiar scenario (which I suspect has something to do with both my visits to haylofts when very young and how I never went all the way to the top of the Copeland Park rocket slide as a child due to my distinct perception of its assumed precarious nature). The others (both relatives and unknown people) are going to be going upstairs to the second storey. I decide to go up first but the way to get up is by ladder and then through a small doorway I cannot quite fit through. This annoys me because it means I will not be able to live upstairs as I am “supposed” to. I tell them it is not possible to be upstairs and walk around to the back of the house. Once I go into the house through the back (of which is a backyard similar to that of our present home), I realize that there is a normal staircase that goes up to the second floor and so I will be using that one. At that point my dream fades. (At this point, the layout is perceived as much like our present home, though there is no second floor in reality. The staircase would be oriented south to north on the east side of our kitchen.) This validates the linear logic of the waking transition. That is, the St. Cloud Street house transforms to where we live now as I am closer to waking (emergent consciousness factor).

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This is an unusual type of sustained return flight waking symbolism (otherwise my most common type, at least once per sleeping period since early childhood), which changes into another form with the same meaning (staircase as waking precursor, representing the return to consciousness). The prehistoric bird cannot fly. My dream self, in having at least some of my conscious self identity, somehow understands the nature of RAS and actually wants to activate it by “sacrificing” my fictional dream self to the understanding that my physical body cannot fly on its own in reality. This is also why I throw the egg to destroy it to prevent other potential flight symbolism (even though chickens cannot really fly very well). This denotes a type of non-lucid dream control (not active lucidity where I am consciously aware I am dreaming). This is an unusual case where my dream is sustaining my sleep with its clearer symbolism rather than creating typical conflict with the preconscious.

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Morning of July 16, 2014. Wednesday.



Zsuzsanna and our family and I appear to be living on Barolin Street though it seems more like my Cubitis bedroom inside at one point. There is no fence as on Barolin Street and the house is much closer to the road (Highway Seventeen) than the Cubitis house was, so it is an interesting new composite as is usually the case.

I have this unusual heightened sense of mortality for some reason, especially at one point where I am lying on the bed near the windows. It seems to relate to our bedroom’s closeness to the main road and the steady traffic. However, it also seems to relate to airplanes that fly over now and then. This dream soon seems to be directly influenced and “scripted” by noises outside, including at least two low-flying airplanes.

The airplane in my dream is flying south (assuming Cubitis - but north if assuming Barolin Street). It is fairly loud and seems to land in an area of town I cannot fully see as it moves down behind the buildings, though it does not seem to be landing in the right area. I hold the anticipatory impression that there will be a crash landing. Even though it is likely in the distance, perhaps two to four miles away, there is an explosion that affects all of the cars on the road just outside, which are also all going south, the explosion’s repercussions being like some sort of domino effect. It is unusual in that the airplane’s explosion seems to mildly threaten our house with debris or fire even though it is supposedly far away. Not only that, each and every car’s engine explodes very quickly and smoothy in a series (south to north) and yet not a single person is hurt. They just get out of their car and look around. Of course, they cannot drive their car anymore at this point. Only the one part of the front of the car looks a bit damaged or different, in some cases, only larger and more squarish.

This scene repeats a little later but this time with a little more detail. It is almost as if this happens on a regular basis since we seem to know what to do in going into a different room in the house for a short time. After the explosions, I look outside and see all the people standing near the cars (all on the right side) and very similar minor damage to each front, all cars in an even row, equidistant, and all similar models. After I wake, I hear an airplane flying overhead after a short time in reality, thus there is not much to this dream other than RAS mediation triggered by real low-flying airplanes - even though it would otherwise be typical autosymbolism related to vestibular system ambiguity, which is why I also typically “expect crash landings” in the dream state regarding subliminal associations with the usual waking start or falling sensation as such. Additionally, the people on the right of their car relates to waking symbolism most often being to the right.

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Morning of July 15, 2014. Tuesday.



I am seemingly in the living room in Cubitis (middle childhood home), but it is somewhat distorted in layout. An unknown taller, slimmer older lady with mostly lighter gray hair and I think wire-rim glasses is there in the southeast area and I am at some sort of table or desk in the southwest area, but closer to the hallway entrance. She seems to be either some sort of teacher or just there to watch and comment on what I am doing or supposedly learning.

There was a lot more to this dream but it was quite distorted and involved quite a bit of in-dream reading. I am, at one point near the ending - reading a page near the front of a large book with two main aspects or ingredients that are supposed to be part of some sort of concoction relating to something like magic or developing some sort of more focused insight or greater success in upcoming endeavors. There is a word or name that is something like “Agnatha”, which in reality relates to silver lampreys (eels). After that is some some sort of abbreviation that reads exactly as “aN” (lowercase a followed immediately by uppercase N) which is supposed to mean “silver” or be a symbol for silver in my dream but is not correct. The actual symbol for silver is Ag, which is curious, as that is the beginning of “Agnatha” (the next syllable being “an” in reverse).

Apparently, “Natha” also relates to a Buddhist deity as well as a sect: “Natha, religious movement of India whose members strive for immortality by transforming the human body into an imperishable divine body” - which loosely seems to relate to one part of the in-dream book mentioned above. None of this was on my mind in any way, though I have taught chemistry in the recent past. Typical layered composite “gibberish” for this dream-type.

Just realized that Agnatha could be written as AgNaThA, which would be one atom of silver, sodium - and isotope Thorium A whatever that would produce.

Morning of July 12, 2014. Saturday.



At one point in this longer but fairly vague dream, I am flying over an area in an unknown region which may be some type of large zoo. There are several smaller rivers in a mostly parallel continuity, seemingly towards the south. Oddly, the whole landscape seems to be inside a very large building with a very high ceiling, and with similar features to that above a stage. I notice several lionesses and cubs near and in the shallow rivers and for a time, now and then, am concerned about flying too low but this does not happen and there does not seem to be much danger anyway.

I eventually end up at a bookstore where there is a sale outside with one small table with several wells (recesses) in which the base of the book stacks start from. There are also some underneath, I think in a cardboard box. My wife and at least our two youngest sons are there. My dream seems to “reset” to a similar scenario at least once, which involves something about buying three books really cheap, I think something like a dollar each, but that does not seem real to me for some reason and actually causes my dream to lose cohesion because of its “lack of realism” regarding the cheaper prices (regardless of the fill-a-bag sales we went to years ago).

As with most dreams, this one had a more insignificant layer that was precognitive (though doubly precognitive, based on two unrelated sections).

Morning of July 4, 2014. Friday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna in the garage on Duffy Street where we lived when we first came to Bundaberg. There is a (fictional) large aquarium aligned along the wall on the opposite side from our main door. There are a few interesting plants and about four or five main types of creatures.

The water is very clean and clear. Two giant mole crickets, a little longer than my hand (and my veiw of them seemingly magnified), are swimming near the bottom. The detail is amazing and vivid though I am not lucid. Zsuzsanna comes out and actually grabs one and lifts it from the tank but puts it back a little later. It is almost like a lobster (or at least reminiscent of one). There is no concern or uneasiness of any kind.

Our garage door is open and several unknown neighbors walk by outside, a couple seemingly living where we would be living relative to the direction they came from, though they are visiting the other apartment in front.

Eventually however, one unfamiliar male neighbor comes in and soon shuts our garage door behind him which I feel is a bit imposing but I do not say or do anything regarding this act. He reminds me of a celebrity in my dream but I do not now recall who it would be, possibly Sam Neill as he appeared in “Jurassic Park” but I am not certain.

He gives a warning about one type of life-form in our aquarium, claiming it is very venomous. I look down and see that he is pointing to and talking about a cluster of brownish to rust-colored and kite-shaped fuzzy plant-like creatures that seem to open and close near the “top” of the kite shape (the kite shape having slight inward arcs on all sides). I am not that concerned and I am not sure if he is correct. I do not remember what he calls them. I say something absentmindedly about “Little Fuzzies” in relevance to the 1962 science-fiction novel “Little Fuzzy” by H. Beam Piper. I am not sure what the connection is; it seems mostly that I am just forcing conversation to lighten the situation.

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Update: I am documenting this as postcognitive (precognitive in light of my own perspective) on my main journal only, as I actually brought up a cover in Google which I had never seen before that features a large lobster-like creature with a “Little Fuzzy”. Seeing something directly from a recent dream in quite precise patterns (relative to in-dream context and associations, often ridiculously trivial or impersonal) has happened on a day to day basis all my life, so often that I often do not even mention it, but decided to here because of the higher unlikelihood.

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Morning of June 28, 2014. Saturday.



My wife Zsuzsanna’s younger brother George is visiting us at our present address and I am telling him of my unusual dream about a red sailboat. This event actually happens in a longer-lasting false awakening. Zsuzsanna and I are together on our bed and he is also on our bed a bit farther over, with his cellphone. I believe there is an image on his cellphone that has something to do with my other dream, or at least something about sailboats or the ocean.

In real life however, I would not consider talking with him about dreams, as he has no interest in anything related to either dreams or spirituality (though that is moot I suppose, as most people have zero understanding of dreams and the nature of the dream state, though Zsuzsanna and I have an advanced understanding - validated of course by the fact she is my literal dream girl, and we share our dreams); so as such, even though this is a false awakening, it is one that represents a highly unlikely scenario, unlike those where you dream you have awakened and are recording your dream in a journal or notepad or are relating it to someone you might be inclined to in reality.

The linked primary dream prior to this false awakening involves me floating over the scene where I am looking down at the ocean towards sunrise or sunset. A sailboat passes within my line of vision (seemingly moving “upwards” in my perspective and orientation). Everything in the environment is of a normal natural color except for (eventually) everything related to the sailboat, which appears to be covered in some sort of odd, fluid “paint” which I actually see cover everything relating to the sailboat fairly quickly. The sailboat and everything on it is soon red, including the sails and all the man’s body (skin and hair) and clothes. Everything is completely red all around, somehow more “solid” than just a lighting effect.

Later, the sailboat seems to crash onto a beach (and it then seems a few hours earlier than just before rather than logically later - unless it is implied to be the next morning) with no one hurt. There are several people on the beach. The man soon gets out of the sailboat and the colors seem to go back to normal.

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Typically, red only dominates a dream when my breathing is accelerated (validated by witnesses during my virtually countless experiments with dreams in the 1980s) or when I have slept a little too long, which makes sense here, as a sailboat is both an autosymbolic extension of the physical body (subliminally perceived) and the sails are a breathing analogy as revealed in instances of hypnopompic disclosure (when the meaning of a dream’s autosymbolism surfaces upon waking).

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Morning of June 23, 2014. Monday.



This was a very long dream. Much of the first part takes place at distorted composite locations, although one location is much like a slightly bigger and slightly different version of my sister Marilyn’s house. I am with my wife and Marilyn is around, alive, and at a younger age (about forty, I think). There is a scene involving cassette tapes and some sort of idea of dubbing or recording over them while keeping much of the original material (done by removing the erase head, but some clarity is still lost). I am not sure if this is a good idea, although there may also be a few copies of the same material.

At one point, there are two used gold-colored cartridges (from a rifle) standing upright on a taller desk or shelf (on its left side) near the right of the front door when going out. This seems important for some reason, as if it is some sort of wedding memento (regarding my sister) or some such. There is also an idea that my brother-in-law Bob is not in the house very often (and is away for days). This is a recurring theme - my wife and I now living at my sister’s old house in the USA even though my sister lived in a different house sometime after I moved to Australia.

Later, oddly, we are living at the “Green Acres” (television show) house. However, there are very large “hidden” sections toward the back of the house, several of which are far bigger than the house itself, yet somehow were never known about or accessed prior - or perhaps because they are partly within a different dimension. These hidden rooms are some sort of Aztec temples, with a very large number of artifacts along the walls on built-in shelves or wall recesses, many of them stylish statues of somewhat frog-like (or very short and chubby) humans. A visitor to our house uses some sort of electronic device and is able to get information from the artifacts by placing it near them - and an “ancient” but slightly electronic-sounding voice gives information or stories (or even a prayer or chant) related to the item. This device can “read” anything using some sort of invisible holographic rays to both identify it and replay any more significant audio that occurred at any time within range of the object as well as express an anthropomorphic “identity” of what the object “thinks” it is or how it “feels”, even relating to any implied uniqueness.

The longest section comes when I have my own laser rifle, which I find in the temple. There are several other people that join me as I mostly just wander around. I show people what it does a few times. Mostly, I aim it at the floor of an implied hallway in one construction site (somehow being on the second or third floor) and a hole forms, almost as if the area is melting and “peeling” back from the center. The laser itself is mostly red; sometimes a sort of unusual orange color. The other workers do not seem that concerned or annoyed by this disruption from my antics. I and the others walk through the city. At various points, I notice more and more features of this laser rifle, including a longer partially “skeletal” stock that opens out from one side and locks into place, making it about twice as long. Another feature is like a clipboard with an actual real-time instruction manual that also swings out from near the middle and locks into place on one side on the left.

Before I wake, I see an unusual prism-like and (four “leaves”) clover-shaped organic “platform”, almost button-like, on the surface of the palm of my left hand (slightly to the lower left side), implying some sort of blood clot or some such - which created this raised tissue on my hand. It is harder than muscle and a reddish color. As is often the case, my hand seems larger/magnified somehow or “closer” in the dream. This has been a typical aspect of my dreams since earliest memory, that is, body parts seeming “closer” or larger as if my vision was different.

Morning of June 20, 2014. Friday.



In the first part of my dream it seems as if I am in a region where there are several isolated temples. The people who look after these temples and surrounding area (who are possibly the ones who built them) are of a fictional race and culture (though somehow related to Bangladesh) and mostly do not mind our presence in the area. A few other people are there including my wife and children as well as classmates from many years ago, including Steve J and Steve W. There is some sort of upcoming threat, seemingly an expected nuclear attack, and so we have to evacuate the area (to a city to the west).

A bus comes and when we are almost ready to go to the bus, I have an odd in-dream “premonition” that we need to either stay where we are or even all go in the opposite direction than the direction the government claims we will be safer, thus I send my wife and children in the other direction - because now I somehow “know” that the attack is more likely to occur where we are going. Even though almost everyone is getting on the bus to evacuate, I refuse to go. I am chased by a couple people, including Steve J and Steve W as they want to force me onto the bus (for my own good, supposedly) but I manage to escape through a combination of running, leaping, and flying. Eventually, the bus leaves. At one point, a large dog attacks me and I feel its teeth in my hand but then I am able to swing my arm around and lose the dog over a hedge. I end up going to the city anyway after this.

After a short time of a few events and conversations about the supposed war and terrorist threats, some sort of unusual nuclear explosions occur. It is almost like a series of several smaller bombs going off in the sky (all at the same time, almost like fireworks) in an odd matrix-like pattern a little farther to the west, yet it is still seemingly the result of a nuclear missile. I turn away to feel a forceful energy sweep over me and most people are killed by it. However, I and a few others start running as fast as we can away from the shockwave, down the main street and over bridges. The area reminds me of Gillette Street in La Crosse in the eastern area where there are not many man-made features; mostly sparse trees, tall grasses, and wild shrubs.

Eventually, I end up in the area where my wife and children had gone. There is an unusual large building which seems to be part of a resort covering a large area and a very large lake and small island in the direction opposite to where the earlier nuclear event had occurred. There is a point at which I decide to go outside again from one larger room. I try to go down a staircase but the second open area past the doorway to the staircase is too small for me to fully fit in and turn around in the cramped stairwell to go to another floor and then outside (recurring) so I pull myself out with a little difficulty and go out through another area, which leads me to the lake’s shore. I still sense danger, so my wife and I and an unknown girl (and I think a couple others) fly into the air and then fly, with great joy and happy harmonious interactions, easterly to the small isolated island in the center of the lake, which is covered mostly with ice and snow. It is exhilarating and very enjoyable and the most vivid part of my dream.

Later, we seem to be in a different town (smaller than the city where the bomb was dropped). There are more random conversations and uneventful scenes, but then the side of a large apartment building begins to collapse. It turns out that terrorists, for quite some time, had somehow managed to build missile silos in a number of different buildings inside a secret area just inside the outside wall. This seems hard to believe, but everyone is running around now in chaos as the threatening events unfold. I watch the extraordinarily clear detail of the outer brick wall collapsing (but almost as if in slow motion), the revealing of one missile as it is taking off - and I also notice large business buildings farther away partially collapsing with missiles lifting off from hidden areas inside the walls. There are at least six or seven missiles that are now airborne. Oddly, instead of going a fair distance, they actually start exploding fairly close to where we are.

Again, I feel the sweep of the destructive nuclear energy from the explosions, as I and only a few others survive. I am not sure where my wife and children are at this time, though I assume they escaped quickly as before. I eventually sit down in a park-like area on a bench facing west, after running west again and seem to be the only immediate survivor after a time - several bodies lying about, some still on fire - and yet I feel quite healthy and well. The city I ran from was completely destroyed. I look on the bottom of my left foot and notice two numbers that seem to be some sort of organic “computer display” but possibly using some sort of semi-organic or inorganic implant to show the values. One number is twenty-seven and on its right, the number one - both in “portrait” orientation - that is, upright across the narrow area in the middle of my foot. This is some sort of “built-in” display showing my health and vitality (or life energy) or how many minutes (27) I have left to live, perhaps. (J. Boehme supposedly called this number “the death”, though there are other myths about it.). Because my life energy is only at one, it likely will not take much more to destroy me, although I am confident that this could not happen even if it read zero later.

However, there is a transparent plastic bag of blueberry muffins to my left and I then realize I had not eaten for some time, and so, as I start eating, the numbers on the bottom of my foot increase more and more, just as with a character in a video game (of which I have never been much of a fan of even when young).

Morning of June 17, 2014. Tuesday.

Dream #: 17,347-01. Reading time: 58 sec.



My dream begins with my false awareness of having the job to mow Colleen’s backyard lawn (on Avon Street) in La Crosse in the late morning. My brother-in-law Bob is also near, preparing to trim some hedges and repair a part of the shed. Neither Colleen nor Bob speak at any time.

My dream vivifies as I begin the repeating act of pulling the lawnmower’s pull-cord on its right side. Although the cord does not stick, the lawnmower does not start. I try it several times. I move it to another part of the backyard, but it still does not start. The kinaesthetic events cause me to wake to realize my arm was in an uncomfortable position.

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Dream type: Instinctual to liminal kinaesthetic imperative.

Dream content causation: This dream is the result of an instinctual process of attempting to move my arm while sleeping - into a more comfortable position. (Engines represent potential wakefulness. The second correlation is that my longer waking transition is a result of sleep atonia and lesser blood flow. I do not achieve wakefulness while still in sleep paralysis, and myoclonus is minimal.)

Bob is the precursory sleep-wake personification (not utilized, only witnessed) in this instance. Trimming hedges and repairing a part of the shed are both forms of navigating the liminality of dream space.

If the lawnmower had started, I might have indulged in the imaginary task of mowing the lawn and not awakened sooner to move my arm.

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Morning of June 16, 2014. Monday.



I am at our present address on W Street. Our youngest son Oliver is playing outside. I go outside into our backyard, look under our house near our wooden steps, and soon notice an “ocean” under our house at where ground-level would otherwise be. This uniquely isolated ocean feature solely under our house in this part of town has a large sea monster living within it yet somehow also lives in the “real” Pacific ocean much of the time via some sort of “portal” or unexplainable underground or underwater access point. The sea monster is a rather atypical squid-like creature with jellyfish-like features and of a pale violet color, with seemingly random truncated cylindrical legs of differing lengths. At one point, it somehow builds a brick wall in the middle of the underneath of our house (with no back story concerning where the bricks originated from), running east and west, by which I can then not visually follow it or learn what it may be up to; for example, in trying to burst up through our floor in a particular room north of the wall - which I actually expect at one point - especially on our front porch, though this never occurs. This is a rather strange setup; sort of like a hybrid of a semi-lucid dream and a (fairly rare) vertical composite of themes or symbols, with the undesirable or threatening elements being below me and probably related to supraconscious access (via the metaphorical ocean presence under our home).

Sea monsters (in a negative association, not when they are “pets”) may often represent invasive but more isolated “collective consciousness” (or again, supraconscious links) - sometimes caused by people you cannot realistically relate to - or with their invasive wrongful beliefs being a part of your day to day experiences - sort of as with the negative connotations of an invading alien (which may represent an annoying relative or associate - even someone you have not meant). As I have documented in my past, dream characters are often not an extension or direct “part” of the dreamer at all as some people seem to erroneously believe, but situational connections with outside forces or external concerns as in real life. Some dreams have characters that are a “part” of the dreamer (as a reflection of one’s particular attributes for review), but many do not, especially the very common literally precognitive layers.

Morning of June 6, 2014. Friday.



I need to go get something such as food and apparently some new clothes for everyone. I am living with my wife and family in Cubitis, though I am having a conflict with a few young fictional family members. There is some sort of argument between a fictional younger son regarding an apparent accidental injury (in the house?) and myself - and then a fictional younger daughter and a different fictional younger son want to go with me but I feel it is probably too dangerous outside and too far for them to walk - normally I do not dream about fictional relatives at all.

I cannot go west, because there is a strange idea that there is “nowhere to go” beyond our house or front yard. I decide that I will go north on the train tracks to get to the store and (fictional) uptown area. Firstly, when I go out, my wife and two of my youngest real sons come out. When I go out beyond the backyard, there is a frozen-over (fictional) river prior to the embankment with the train tracks. I tell my wife not to walk on it due to it likely being thinner ice that will probably not support our weight, but I discover that it is more like a solid surface of some kind and may not be ice (or may be thicker more solid ice). More easterly, beyond the train tracks, there are mostly only barbed-wire fences, shrubs, and (as in real life in this case) farmland, so that is a “no go” zone as well. Meanwhile, an unknown neighbor (a younger married aboriginal female) at a closer fictional house (in what would otherwise be the orange grove north of “our” house) has started yelling about something I supposedly did or noise that I made - which then involves an argument with my wife and her as I continue north, making sure my youngest son stays home.

Suddenly, it is somehow late at night. I am walking in an area in the large backyard again, but things look a bit different. A cougar is resting nearby. Interestingly, I deliberately go over and pet and stroke its head. This seems directly connected to recurring dreams in my youth where I always avoided cougars and had many dreams of going back in my house at night because of one being outside. It bites lightly at my hand and growls a few times in an apparent annoyed manner but I am not alarmed and do not see it as a threat, which seems quite unlike my typical non-lucid dreaming habits. I even lift it up for a time.

I continue to calmly walk north, on the train tracks for a time. I end up at a larger uptown area as it seems to be around late afternoon now. (Hmmm, must be an Ed-Wood-directed dream). I have to stop when walking on a bridge, because the rest of it had collapsed and I notice parts of train cars and larger trucks in the water farther north, along with other half-submerged parts of the bridge. At that point, I am somewhat out of balance as if I need to “slide back down” from where I had reached because of some strange sort of faux vertigo that is not quite dizziness but hard to relate with words. It is some sort of strange body-wide “imbalance” where I cannot bring myself to stand.

Eventually, as I slowly move backwards down the bridge incline with a sort of reverse crawling/undulating routine, the male owner of a bar right near the edge of the bridge seems thrilled to see me. He seems to be willing to give me a lot of free drinks and service. I ask him about the bridge and he cheerfully tells the story about how he had been driving when it collapsed, but survived. There is no way farther north, so I have south left as the final option. Another bar owner comes out of a different bar just south of the other one. He, as well, offers me free drinks and service and even adds how his is the place recommended by a rock musician (name unremembered). I have no interest in drinking or going into either bar, so I lie and tell them that I will be back soon - and then go south.

After going back south for a few minutes, it is somehow only late morning (yup, Ed Wood must have directed this one). I go back to my house for a brief period and notice that the female’s (who had been yelling earlier) husband is sitting near a fictional back door on the east side of our house. I decide to sit down for a short time before going southerly and my pants fall down and the man starts laughing and complaining (this relates to recent associations where there is a bizarre idiotic trend of having one’s pants down around their bottom - my wife even saw this at a pizza place and his pants actually fell down to his ankles at one point). I had not been wearing blue jeans, which seems a bit odd, as that is mostly all I have ever worn in real life other than when in school or on formal occasions. I mention this fact to him but am so annoyed by his condescending attitude that I leave in a short time.

Having gone south for a few minutes, I end up having to go into some sort of building aligned somehow with the train track route. This does not make much sense, but when I go in, I discover that there is no way out farther south and am very annoyed. It appears to be some sort of small enclosed dam or man-made waterway; a control room of some kind, the water of which rapidly flows along the east (and may be part of what was thought to be a frozen-over river earlier?) I am concerned with getting back out as soon as possible, because I sense that the water may eventually rise and fill the area (though that makes no sense as it would short out the control box contents). There is a narrow door to the west, but it does not seem to go anywhere. When I open the control box to see if I can get a door to open somewhere, a light starts flashing, which I am concerned will alert people to my apparent trespassing presence, so I probably cannot really go back north without drawing unwanted attention. I am really annoyed at this point and simply wake up, as there is really “nowhere else to go”.