non-lucid

Morning of June 4, 2014. Wednesday.



I am near the intersection of Loomis and Gillette Streets in Wisconsin. My wife Zsuzsanna is with me at the intersection. The two intersecting streets are partly covered with an unusual carpet that looks like Turkish angora calico cat fur. My dream self does not question the idea of a street having a loose carpet over it in some sections (or the fact that it would become dirty and worn in practically no time). I am actually lying on my left side at one point (on the southeast area of Loomis Street before intersecting with Gillette) looking at the carpet. It would be more attractive were it not for the somewhat disordered lumps and folds. The ginger, gold, cinnamon, white, darker brown, a very pleasing burnt sienna, and other shades are in a random variegation. I still see it as an attractive feature.

I am concerned, because there seems to be a small animal under the carpet that is moving about, though it seems to be bigger at times. Cars are mostly going west down Gillette Street and I am wondering if I should lift the carpet up in case the animal wanders too close to oncoming traffic. Zsuzsanna is uncertain if it is an animal, as it may be the movement of folds caused by each car as it drives over it at the center of the intersection. The animal, if it is one, sometimes almost seems to move like a snake, as there is also a slight twisting movement for a time. It may even be a large earthworm.

Eventually, after watching for several minutes, it does turn out to be an animal that had been causing the movement and odd smaller fold shifts, and the animal finally leaves the area as if perhaps he had been looking for food for a time and had not found much. It is an unusual coppery-tinted (more like a mongoose color) badger. He (I assume it is a male) comes out from under the carpet and then walks slowly west down Gillette Street. I am not very surprised but I hope that he does not get run over. The colors are a little similar to the calico cat carpet and there is extra detail in his body markings, almost like handwriting.

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An intersection is autosymbolism for neural gating that presents the potential for remaining in the dream state (or going deeper back into sleep) or waking. The carpet as it is featured here is a dream state indicator due to its nature as serving as a blanket. The badger coming out from under the blanket is an analogy to me getting out of bed. In my dream, I am on my left side, as I am oriented in reality while sleeping.

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Morning of June 4, 2014. Wednesday.



My family and I are living in some sort of composite of our present home and the one on Barolin Street. I am doing some sort of meditation and affirmation pulsing, but it seems to involve projecting or focusing down into an image rather than forward - thus I am not quite sure of the intent or effectiveness, as well as the tabletop involving about a four by four matrix of these “cards” or photographs (in possibly a random construct rather than having a particular pattern). My mother seems present for a time, and for a short time, it also seems to have Loomis Street features. My wife seems slightly annoyed by the look of the “cards” and I get the impression it may be because of a slight association with Tarot (aka “enemy cargo”), though they are not actually Tarot cards and what I am doing has nothing to do with the pointless (and spiritually problematic) system of Tarot “reading” of any kind. Still, I gather them up and think about doing something else.

I decide to go for a walk and end up walking through a changed house that almost seems like a large school. I seem to be going west as one area is still somewhat like the Barolin Street house. The stairs, however, are more complex, and I then see I had apparently been on a second floor of a building. Michelle L is there, sitting on the bottom of the stairs, but is not in a happy mood and does not seem to know who I am (or at least care) and wants to steal whatever money I may have on me (which is actually none in-dream, I think). I mentally will the gun from her hand as an unknown male is walking into the immediate area who is somewhat pimp-like in dress but may be part of a nearby gambling casino. Not much happens after this and I go on to a different scene.

This other scene involves Stadcor Street and I then seem to be in Brisbane at our old house there. A man that reminds me of Al Capone is present (and is dressed like a 1940s gangster), with a couple other gangsters. He wants to use me to help him cheat at a gambling venue (in the backyard). I am passive in this endeavor because I do not know how he will react should I say no. He might choose to shoot me if I do not go along with his scheme, but I do not really feel threatened in anyway, nonetheless.

We go out to what would otherwise be the dilapidated garage in the backyard where the old military Ford Blitz (that the land owner had bought on a whim prior to our moving there but never worked on) was in real life and partly holding up much of what was left of the garage on that side (the garage eventually collapsed in real life, missing falling on me by only seconds). The area in-dream instead has a “giant” slot machine that is somewhat like a giant metal Rolodex as well as with rock tumbler features. It is nearly as big as a car. There is one smaller section on the side that is somewhat like a trapezoid with a curved base over the edge of the front, reminding me rather loosely of part of a “giant” visor in a suit of armor. A person puts in a coin, pulls the remote lever down (which seems separate and to the left of the machine itself and just above a persons head to start) to start it up, then pulls the lever down again to stop it for the potential to “hit the jackpot” or win a smaller amount. What I do to “detect” after when the other male is to pull the lever to stop it is almost reminiscent of cracking a safe or a giant combination lock. I put my left ear to the surface of the side of it when he pulls the lever the first time. It is extremely vivid and clear and I can actually tell exactly when the particular section of the cylinder comes around inside the structure again relative to the internal weight distribution and such. However, I say “now” just a fraction of a second too soon, but this does not matter, as the man stands in the way as the lever hits him on the shoulder (almost knocking him down), delaying it exactly for the time required for the particular drivers and pins to engage in the machine itself.

A large number of gold and silver coins (I think of which are Australian two dollar coins and perhaps Australian twenty cent coins or American quarters) start pouring out onto a trough-like section of what resembles a smaller cigarette vending machine, which seems separate and perpendicular to the “giant slot machine”. The other male looks sort of dazed or “blank” to a greater degree rather than excited about winning all that money but does seem vaguely happy or amused in a short time.

For some reason, the actor Ian Somerhalder (possibly because my wife had mentioned seeing him in a show other than “Lost” the day before - “The Vampire Diaries”) comes over and informally arrests the man (he is not even dressed in any sort of uniform). Bizarrely, the Al-Capone-like character seems to be under arrest not because he did anything wrong, but because he has money. Apparently, the scene seems to imply that it is illegal to have money or the potential to buy something. I do not question the scene and I am “aware” that Ian had played Superman in a movie or television series when that is not the case.

Morning of June 1, 2014. Sunday.



My dream opens in an unusual variation of our present home with some rotated or altered structures of our Barolin Street house (including the inside back steps over the bare ground in a larger enclosed porch-like area, but which continues southward into a more internal house-like area) as well as my sister’s old house on Loomis Street in America. The staircase area of the Barolin house is oriented in a different direction; to the south rather than the west; and there appears to be several bunk beds. The environment is somewhat like a boarding house for older ex-convicts with a slight prison atmosphere. I am not familiar with any of the males, and curiously, there is an Australian essence to the setting, which is fairly rare in my dreams even though I have lived here since February 9, 1994.

At one point, I am aware that the boarding house has a strange secret related to a potential local development of personal paranormal power of some sort. It seems that Ned Kelly was buried under the wooden staircase within the area of the boarding house that is enclosed but which has a dirt floor (similar to the enclosed back porch and utility area of the Barolin Street house). The beds are near that area, aligned west along one wall. I talk with a few other males. At another point, I look at the ground under the staircase to determine what could be there. There is an eerie association with the seeming story regarding the remains. There is evidence that a coffin is just under the ground’s surface as there is a very slight elevation of the dirt of one area. However, the story also may be that just the remains had been buried there with no coffin.

In another part of my dream, either a policeman or a convict serving as an in-house policeman and wearing a gun holster arrives. This area appears to be the back entrance from Loomis Street at first. He dismisses the idea of there being a body in the ground under the stairs and seems a bit annoyed by the apparent myth or “convict gossip”. There is also some sort of shift or “reset” where the man’s name is John (John Kelly?) instead of Ned Kelly. It may just be a man named John who has no infamy or history of anything notable. The other male denies anything unusual about the boarding house or the ground beneath it.

Over time though, I do develop a telekinetic power supposedly related to my being in the area; a common ability in dreams (but not previously associated with longer-term attainment or being in a certain location). This recurring dream act is done by mentally willing something from across the room straight into the palm of my hand with a sort of rubber-band-like effect. At a later point, there are unknown females in the boarding house which does now seem more like some sort of prison or supposed rehabilitation venue. They are all seated at a large picnic table inside the main area. One reminds me of a somewhat unkempt female factory coworker from years ago. She asks me if I can prove something regarding my abilities and I comply by willing a large object which is some sort of larger purse or oversized pencil bag (or for art supplies) across the room and into my hand in a swift manner. She then mentions of how her faith in the existence of benign spirits or angels has grown but I am not exactly sure why this act helped her. This may have something to do with the potential to escape from the scene by one person taking something from a guarded area, such as a key, perhaps.

There is some sort of awareness that the telekinetic ability also has something to do with magnetism and wearing some sort of magnetic bracelet (that was buried in the ground under the stairs?) even though the items I will into my hand from other areas of the room, including a glass of orange juice, are not actually magnetic (although the pencil-bag-like items do have a metal zipper).

Eventually, I am on my own, wandering around outside. I end up at a residential area with another unknown male but who may be a version of my brother Earl at a much younger age, as the house is vaguely like the one he lived in in Florida. He seems interested in my telekinetic ability but does not quite believe in its full potential. In one area outside near a patio and shed, he tests me with selecting a chosen item and sailing it quickly into my hand from a fair distance. These items seem mostly related to male cosmetic products, mostly all of the same brand, perhaps Avon, I think, because of some sort of play on “nova”.

I end up drawing a larger item into my hand which slides on its own across the table’s surface of which I think may be a piece of plywood. The fact that it slides somewhat instead of just leaping into my hand is somewhat frustrating, but not a dominant issue. It seems like a plastic pencil bag for school but about twice the size and may be some sort of travel kit. The indicated goal, however, was actually a smaller bottle of shampoo or something similar immediately to its left. I do not feel as if I have failed in the task, but may need to try a bit more to discern individual items for more telekinetic manipulation. The other male is still impressed and interested.

Morning of May 28, 2014. Wednesday.



I am on my way to a supposed meeting with an unknown male. I am not sure why. It seems to relate to some sort of business, perhaps even the local black market.

I end up talking to a male who had been sleeping against a concrete wall on a shabby makeshift bed in a cul-de-sac area near a large shopping mall. He is rather large and stocky. Even though he appears to be homeless, he also seems to have enough finances to eat fairly well, though he is dressed informally in shabby clothes. Over time, another male is in the area and also talks with him. The other male does not seem homeless.

The unkempt homeless man seems like a sort of scavenger and street-opportunist and also talks about stealing jewelry and anything else of value from various females who shop in the region. Apparently he has not been caught, although his present sleeping conditions actually seem worse than those of some jails.

Eventually, a young female seems to literally step out of my body as if my body was some sort of “portal” for interdimensional travelers. She is dressed in old-fashioned clothes, almost ballroom-like and she regards the other males curiously. The homeless male asks to see more of her necklace and the girl lifts up the chain so that a larger pendant rises up from behind her fancy lacy blouse.

From here, things go a bit stranger. The rays of light coming from the pendant are too bright to directly look at and there is a very slight audio effect that is somewhat wind-chime-like, almost inaudible, and with a very low-volume higher-pitched continuous tone “matching” it - seeming like two isolated higher frequency bands (with no spanning broadband ranges), but again, almost inaudible. In fact, the rays extend a fair distance, possibly reaching two or three city blocks away. The homeless man covers his eyes a bit but still tries to see the girl and the necklace yet all that is visible for the most part is bluish white light. The girl starts to make fun of human beings (even though she looks like a normal human being herself) and what they do and how they move, seemingly with great pleasure and miming and continues on like…

“Oh look I’m a human; I can walk around on two legs. Then I can sit down. Then I can stand up and oh look I can walk around on two legs again. Then I can sit or stand…”

“Do I have a brain? Yes, I do, but only in my head; I can’t see or even guess what is ahead in my future very far and oh look, let’s just walk into this wall since we didn’t see it coming” (mimics walking into a wall).

“And, oh look, now that I have walked into a wall, I guess I will sleep here from now on with my two legs. But sometimes I will sit or stand and then walk again…”

This is likely exasperating for the other two males but I do not mind it so much. Eventually, an additional normal-looking male (except for the fact that he seems dressed as a swashbuckler) begins to appear in various “pieces” in a holographic form about five feet from our little group…not fully forming by the time I wake. I get the vague impression that it could be a holographic “shell” that I may inhabit when going off for a time with this being.

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Morning of May 24, 2014. Saturday.



My brother-in-law seems happy and my sister seems to be alive and with him at the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (though neither of them had ever been to Australia in real life). They both seem about twenty years younger.

There appears to be some sort of larger spider, nearly the size of a human hand (and I have come to realize that spiders sometimes represent human hands in dreams in a more negative sense - a couple dreams even revealed this more clearly). There are several of this fictional species of spider, all clustered together in a “tunnel” that goes down through the floor somehow, the floor also seeming much thicker than in reality. This is probably loosely related to an association with trapdoor spiders, as the overall look is similar. There is no direct threat, but there is also something about termites falling on my brother-in-law’s head a bit later on. He is also seen walking in the driveway.

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One way to look at this dream is “needing to get my hands on something” that is under the house (which fell between the floorboards). Something under the house might be dirty and have negative associations, distorting the concept of my hand moving through the dirt as a spider.

Morning of May 22, 2014. Thursday.



I am in a small second-hand book store in an unknown location. There are two unknown females behind the counter which is nearly chest high. There is a table with at least eight piles of comic magazines to my right that, although seem a lot like Warren magazines in overall design are actually (fictional) black-and-white Avengers comic magazines which I have not seen before (possibly from the early 1980s). I put several on the counter to buy after going through the stacks, eventually adding up to about a dozen or more. The younger cashier on the right says that she will take off a certain amount of money from the total price if I buy more, so I look over what I had already put on the counter, and look more at the ones on the table. The total will probably be about $23.00 to $24.00 or somewhere around that range.

I read the title “Avengers” on each cover, but I start to focus on only the covers that feature Marvel’s Black Cat character, all in similar full-body layouts for the most part, although she looks more like DC’s Catwoman. Also, I call her “Black Widow” which is yet another character and more to do with the actual Avengers. There are at least a dozen or more of these magazines I decide to get and eventually decide to only get those that feature her on the cover. However, over time, I have to keep putting the covers back on. I notice that when I pick one up sometimes, the cover is missing and still on the table, which I then put back over the rest of the book. In addition to all that, some of the covers remind me (in overall style of art) of Silver Sable.

In the long run, I only refer to her as “Black Widow” in my dream even though it may be a version of the Black Cat though I do not wish to sound ignorant. The cashiers do not correct me if such is the case.

After this dream, I also realized it could have been relative to “The Avengers” television series, which is unrelated to Marvel’s Avengers. The title in my dream matched some stylized titles of the show.

Morning of May 20, 2014. Tuesday.



I am traveling with a few people in a station wagon that looks like the same one my brother-in-law Bob had at one time. My wife is with me. The driver is unknown but friendly and competent at driving. Somehow, it seems we are in a composite area that has a location sense of my backyard in Cubitis. We stop near the front of the large shed (the one my father built) and it seems to represent a charity store. It is closed, however. There are several cardboard boxes and bags of clothes to the right of the doorway, the bags leaning up against the outer wall. It looks like rain, so we put them in more suitable plastic bags as well as adding some more unneeded clothes from the car.

Apparently this is not a public street and a police frog is on its way to our location. The police frog has trouble getting over some clusters of grass so we decide to take the opportunity to leave before he gets to our location even though we not only had not done anything wrong or illegal - we were giving more donations of clothes. The police frog is hindered by a somewhat shallow pond near where the car is parked. He starts moving through the water and drowns. I had thought frogs would be better swimmers.

In another scenario, I have two identical wives (perhaps a few years apart in age, but the same otherwise). For some reason, this really does not seem all that unusual - one may be the one before I met her and the other being the one after I met her. I make love to both of them at different times. There is a lot of realistic physical contact. We seem to be living in La Crosse. My brother Jim is still alive, much younger, and seemingly staying with us for a short time before he goes to another town. I think he is going into the army or marines (he was a marine in real life) as he has a duffel bag near the arm chair in the living room, seemingly in preparation to go.

The two versions of my wife do not seem to ever interact. One starts to talk about her new pregnancy (which is quite a surprise to me) and I start to worry again (as in real life) if her petite size can handle the pregnancy (considering we have five children, though, I would say yes). Still, she would be at far more of a disadvantage than other females and I worry about her health and water retention concerns as she says her hands and feet are quite swelled. I decide that for now, perhaps I should reverse time and undo the present scenario and work out what we will do. This is also because this version of my wife should probably be more free to do more of what she wants on her own.

I find the “two wives” (my wife having had dreams of two of me) or more, and other “two of something” dreams to be rather intriguing. I have also dreamt of having two of the “same” fathers and two of the “same” mothers (and even two or more of the “same” pet cats or guinea pigs).

I spend a bit of time thinking about reversing time. My brother Jim seems late for his journey but does not seem that concerned. I pretend to have some sort of machine (about the size of an old typewriter) that reverses time and I push “invisible” buttons and move some sort of “invisible” panel. I am aware of how foolish this act seems even in my growing lucidity. Jim seems to think it amusing and does not believe that time can be reversed.

However, after a short time, it is a year prior to the in-dream present date as I verify this with a calendar. Somehow, Jim still has to go, but now has time to get to his destination and he seems happy about this. I go out to the front yard with one version of my wife and we embrace for a time. For some reason, I am reminded of “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” where my wife has the “same expression” as the girl from the film. I hear a sort of screeching sound and the mood changes completely. I try to work out where it is coming from and realize that it is my own throat. I try to deliberately make the sound and it is similar, but not as loud. I rise swiftly into the air and fly around in standing position (recurring) and make the screeching sound a few more times as there is a bizarre composite emotion of peace, terror, “finality”, and exhilaration at the same time. I fly over an open field where I see a forest in the distance. This is nothing at all like the real-life location and has no urban features at all. I had just been in a smaller house in the middle of the open field. I deliberately (being mostly lucid) make the sound a few more times with my throat and get used to the exact physical sensations as to how it is done and the different subtle facets of movement and vibration. However, I then realize that I had probably been screeching in real life and so better wake up to say that I am actually doing fine. It turns out that I had not made any screeching sounds, and I have no idea of how I made my throat make the sound that it did, at least at that volume.

Morning of May 16, 2014. Friday.



Regarding a related anniversary-like link, I found that one of this morning’s dreams, as is sometimes the case (sometimes with postcognitive potential), links up to past aspects around the same time period by year. The “anniversary” associations (not the exact day, but fairly close) relate to an article I just coincidentally found (without any search or intent) that was published on May 13, 2013; “Skylab’s Remains: NASA Space Station Debris in Australia (Photos)” and the fact that Skylab was launched on May 14, 1973 according to Wikipedia and the NASA website (though some sources, including the plaque in Australia say the 24th of May). Today’s date, presently, from my location, is May 16, 2014 though it is apparently still May 15 in, for example, California.

In my dream, some old friends and I are somehow on board the Skylab. I am not sure what our mission is, if any mission is even implied. There are also different rooms for seemingly different types of people; for example, each in their own niche or clique, so to speak. There is a group of obese women who seem to actually live, half-dressed, in a circular sauna area near the “bottom” area of Skylab. This area is amusingly known as “Coffeelab”. (My wife Zsuzsanna and I do not drink coffee as neither of us can stand the taste or smell. Caffeine also has the opposite effect on me than supposedly with other people and makes me feel extraordinarily tired.)

Over time, some maintenance needs to be done, I believe of which relates to the cylindrical oxygen tank. Somehow, there is a very large coffee machine which is sort of torus-shaped (like a giant lifesaver) but more like a trapezoidal template than circular where the narrower “top” is oriented inward. This coffee machine is sixteen feet above the women. (This particular distance has recurred in dreams since childhood for whatever reason).

Something goes wrong with the coffee machine and the connecting bars loosen and break, causing it to fall on the obese women (there being about six of them). They are mostly only in towels and giggling and gossiping mindlessly until the coffee machine falls on them, falling down through the cylindrical construct. A little later, the debris cannot be seen, but the women are all lying about having been killed, the largest on her back with her arms and legs out, like in some sort of horizontal jumping jack position or X-shape.

From here, my friends and I are told by the Skylab mission control that we need to drink all the coffee that is still available before it “goes to waste”. This seems like a strange task. The coffee is disgusting and has large granular blobs in it (as it then seems like instant coffee which is even worse than that from a coffee machine), almost like drinking mud. I spend several minutes (during at least three time periods) stirring the large glass I have with a small metal rod of some kind and watch the interesting and seemingly powerful swirls (like a variation of the Yin Force, or Yin and Yang integrating), which seem magnified. My hands seem magnified as well, which is a fairly common perspective in my dreams when focusing on my body. From there, I just continue to watch the attractive Yin-and-Yang-like patterns and whirlpool-like effects without drinking any more sludge.

There have been similar dreams where bliss began to dominate my dream when it involved Yin-and-Yang-like patterns or whirlpool effects, including the whale song dream of February 22, 2013. I also count the “Tornado!” dream of September 13, 1970 (wife’s birthday) as one because of the implied joining of the Yin and Yang forces before I knew of her real existence (at least as one interpretation).

Morning of May 14, 2014. Wednesday.



The first part of my dream was quite interesting in a personal sense and was like a “breakthrough” event which I have not had at such a deep level for some time, I think, especially as it had sort of “clever” associations with some other recent dreams. (For example, a recent dream featured the term “Kill Zone” and this one had “Send Zone” as part of the last event. For a long time, my dreams have sometimes had concepts that repeated in twos for two days in a row, or sometimes threes; for example, the patting someone on the upper back from their left, stuffed animals as a possible “threat”, and several others.) Also, it related to my wife’s dream of the same time period in a very deep and unusual way (relating to the “other” apparently and some sort of energy sent back through time).

I am not sure of the location or address (it seems to change several times, actually) but I am with my family. There is some mail that is piled on the bed for some reason, both opened and unopened. Some of it is old junk mail, I think, which has supposedly remained unopened for quite some time. I pick one larger envelope up and feel something hard inside that is thicker than paper would be. When I open it, I discover that it is a plaquette similar to the one in some ways that I have had from a very young age in Arcadia (and still have on the wall now; it had been left behind in the post office as unopened “junk mail” by a member of the “other’s” family). Instead of the tan/pale brown, though, it is pale blue. The motif is a bit different, the surface is smoother, and the message is different and somewhat shorter. Unfortunately, I do not remember exactly what it was, though it might have been “Count your blessings, not your sorrows”, I think - and at one point the plaquette is oriented perpendicular to the other one in that the message is longways (what you would call “landscape” as opposed to “portrait” in graphics terms). Still, it seems the finding is great - being very important, and seems like some sort of deep immersion into the Source, almost like finding a personal treasure that you had all along.

Near the end of my dream, which I will write before the middle of it, there is some sort of blog on the Internet that talks about different religions and “fabrications” - similar to the theme of fabricating dreams in some ways. (Although it was published on February 24, 2012, I had never seen it before, so this turned out to be precognitive for me relative to the usage of the word “zone” and some of its associations in the actual article - as well as my wife’s experience relating to someone being her friend only if she gave them snacks - and it included the picture of the exact same plaquette I found as a child, which I found intriguing but of the usual “precognitive energy” and familiar validation feelings I have experienced day to day since early childhood.)



In my dream there is also talk about the “Send Zone” as related to the Source (although the real-life blog was similar to the one in my dream, it was not exactly the same throughout - it was a bit more “generic” as well as slightly political regarding world affairs), which is implied to be like an egg-shaped (or teardrop-shaped) realm of bright blue light. I am trying to work out the liminal area or “threshold”, but it seems sort of ambiguous in concept - as if I am always “already there” - somewhat like trying to work out from a map how to get to a certain location when you already are in that location and there are no boundaries or individual aspects - hard to explain - or like holding “a glass of water” under the surface of a lake. It is difficult to relate because I feel such an understanding of “oneness” that there does not seem to be any sort of “division” (or separation of any kind) and it almost seems as futile as someone trying to find the “border” of where a light in a room slightly changes in midair - or, “everything inside the circle is the same as everything outside the circle”. The blog seems to represent some sort of confirmation. I feel quite “giddy” and blissful, filled with positive energy. Then again, I did do about six hours of intense imagery projection and affirmative meditation prior and reached a point of clarity that actually seemed stronger than at any prior time in my life.

The middle part of my dream was quite bizarre and went through several changes. Firstly, I seem to be in the front yard (northeast corner) of the King Street boarding house. There is some sort of very large three-tiered anthill which seems more like a man-made structure. It also seems like some sort of composite flower-petal-themed circular water fountain structure (without the water) and like a merry-go-round or carousel (but not turning). To my right is a bookcase-like structure (with three vertical divisions and at least four horizontal “shelves”) that the ants somehow created or utilized in a special way. There is one compartment where the ants are keeping their eggs. Another compartment holds at least six dead mice (of different random colors including white, brown, and black) lying mostly on their sides on top of each other and are being stored for food. At this point, the ants might have spider-like attributes, because I sense the mice were captured and stored by some sort of webbing. I notice a few ants come up from the ground and I somehow “pet” them without incident.

Then, I am suddenly aware that this place is actually “also” a large “mouse nest”. Several mice playfully come near me from the center of the “fountain” structure and I pet them as they scurry about. They are of several different colors including browns and grays. Some of them seem more tame than others. This is quite vivid and pleasing.

Later, the construct is now some sort of three-dimensional clothing catalog, primarily featuring beachwear and sunglasses and such. There are images of dark-haired girls (on three different tiers of this holographic “catalog” or supposed commercial display) in very unusual multicolored bikinis that seem to implement various complex tiki pole designs over the front of their body. For example, the top part (or bra) might represent the “eyes” of the tiki pole, with strings coming down and crisscrossing - with additional cloth forming a complex colorful “nose” and then the bikini bottom completing the “tiki pole” with the mouth area of the tiki shown or the hands going across or both in the print. This seems like an entirely new concept and a modern fashion statement and each design is quite different.

Finally, in the last part of the middle section, the construct changes into some sort of different store display, yet belongs to us - and we now seem to be at our present home. It seems almost like a giant three-tiered buffet display or cake stand, while still seeming like a water fountain or merry-go-round structure. There are several slight depressions in the “petal” structures (one in each “petal”) all around, that hold various items in each, most of which I find to be older View-Master reels, some in sets of three (most separated from the old-style packets) and some singular “demo” reels of the kind that used to come with the View-Master itself. I ask my youngest son if he had seen some of them, but he apparently has not. There seems to be something about not mixing them with the others until they have been ordered and viewed the first time.

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Morning of May 11, 2014. Sunday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I live in a huge mansion (with a false memory of having moved there just recently, but I am not sure if our move is complete yet) with so many rooms, it is probably difficult to count them all, especially as some have not been used for a long time. The house is very old and in disrepair and, I think, belongs to the owner of our present home (a recurring association).

I soon discover that I have a device that is like a wand or small rod. It has multiple functions that work depending on which one is needed the most at a particular time. This basic idea has been somewhat sparsely recurring over many years, but sometimes with different associations and workability.

In this case, the wand does several things, including removing any sort of patina, rust, cobweb, or dust, and also automatically repairs things (such as broken pipes or holes in plaster).

My dream is very long but mostly only involves directing the wand at the various fixtures and such in the rooms that need cleaning and repair. I am amazed at how dark rust and such is transformed into smooth shiny silvery metal. Cobwebs are dissolved from corners of tables and some things are automatically polished. Screws are tightened automatically and any nails that have partly come out or any wood that has been damaged is also restored to original condition.

Some of what I do is random, though, as a few rooms need far more work than others and I only do parts of the more difficult surfaces and areas, which I plan to do additional work on later. I move the wand about and make “stripes” of transformed silver in the deeply rusted pipes and such, with a similar effect as filling in an outline of a shape with a pen or pencil (recurring over many years) - yet I am not aware of any adjustment to make the “brush” (or range) wider (similar to a brush in a graphics program by association). I am enjoying my work, though. There is not any physical stress involved, though I do know it will take time and effort.

Morning of May 9, 2014. Friday.



In my dream, I am living in Cubitis with my wife (who has never been to America at this point). On the west wall of my old bedroom (where the three jalousie windows would otherwise be though now there is only one twelve-paned sash window in the middle - this being of a long-term precognitive change with no former knowledge) is a large but narrow shelf, about two feet across and about six feet up, almost as long as the room but stopping about two feet from the southwest corner. It is almost like the implied top of a bunk bed, I think.

There is no terror or distress as one might expect from the following sight (at least in the real word). There is a “five-foot spider” on the shelf, its legs hanging lazily over the edge of the shelf above our bed. It is black and “furry”. I am not even sure it is alive though, as it never moves the whole time. Perhaps it is even a large stuffed animal, as I do notice a small stuffed animal near the middle of the shelf which I think is a pale blue elephant with white triangles on its body. I am not sure what we will do. I visit the scene at least twice in at least one dream “reset”.

As spiders often represent the human hand in dreams (visually), this may relate to negative associations with typing my dreams from this time period with a much larger focus than when younger as well as placing them “on the web”, though because the giant spider is on my shelf, it may be associated with the vast dream journal material I have not yet posted and implying I am putting a lot of manual work in it all.

Morning of May 7, 2014. Wednesday.

Dream #: 17,306-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



I was at a funeral at the La Crosse Civil War Memorial (Campbell Cemetery) in winter during blasts of wind and snow. Two others in black 1940s formal apparel are near me. (They may be older versions of Zsuzsanna and me.) We are standing on the wayside, opposite the railroad tracks, not the woods where the funeral was. (I do not think of the unlikelihood of public graves between trees.)

There are two cars parked along the road, the one that crashed in “Fear No Evil” (1969 TV movie) and my red 1922 Lincoln Phaeton (recurring dream car only).

The old couple faces the woods as the wind blows snow across their backs. They do not move even after being covered in a light layer of snow. Another man approaches from our right. He acknowledges me but ignores the other two. He wants me to drive him somewhere, but not in either of the vehicles present.

I become liminally aware I am dreaming without recall of what a dream is, only that my thoughts shape my world. I summon the red 1958 Plymouth Fury from “Christine” (1983 movie). The other man is happy with the car and our forthcoming road trip.

I drive fast (not recklessly) over backroads in hilly areas. The car ends up on the carport of the Cubitis house. (I would have had to drive from Wisconsin to Florida in less than fifteen minutes). I am parked facing the orange grove, perpendicular to the driveway (which would be problematic as it would block both entrances to the front of the house).

I am unsure where the man (preconscious simulacrum) is. I may have dropped him off somewhere. Looking down, I see a toad to the right of my right foot. It is about half the size of a cane toad. I pick it up and throw it out the window to my left. I consider that other toads may be in the car, but I do not worry about it and looking around, I see no evidence of others. At this point, my dream loses cohesion.

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Notes:

The toad in the car may have been an association with “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” from “The Wind in the Willows” (both the book and the Disney attractions). It is similar, in some illustrations, to the car from “Fear No Evil”.

My dream begins with the presence of sleep simulacrums (the old couple that becomes lightly covered with snow), the association with a cemetery as analogous to sleeping and being separated from waking life and my identity.

The unknown man is this dream’s vestibular system simulacrum (a personification of the preconscious) as we ride in the car, which is an imaginary extension of my physical body while in the dream state. His original approach from my right stems from the waking process as I sleep on my left side with my right more exposed to my environment.

A carport is a rendering of liminal space (the ambiguous awareness between dreaming and waking).

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Morning of May 1, 2014. Thursday.



I have a couple large game sections (possibly incomplete at the time) that feature a three-walled area open on one side where a griffin moves while standing mostly in one place, facing the open side. I believe the feet are connected to some sort of mechanism through a slit in the “floor” of the compartment. Perhaps the goal is to put the two griffins face-to-face with the platforms linked together to “fight” in a sort of game similar to the classic “Rockem Sockem Robots” game. This is not certain, though - but the griffins do seem to have the same two colors (as the robots) dominating but more integrated into their overall multicolored form. It actually seems a bit more complex than that, involving an additional quest or higher goal, perhaps even from an RPG, with the possible griffin fight being only one aspect of it. I mostly have the box and the game parts in an area of the kitchen (Stadcor Street - we seem to be living back in Brisbane).

At any rate, parts of the game mechanism get separated from the rest. This is because a section of the game seems to be outside for a time, taken out by one of our young sons perhaps. The pieces that get separated are like two different important rubber pieces that need to be in the mechanism or the game will not work at all. One is just like a belt from an older cassette deck, another like the very small rubber “hoop” (not the flat washer but circumferential cylindrical) used in some faucet setups.

The side of the street is quite different than in reality. Instead of the curb going directly out to the street, there is a very deep one-foot across recess (along the entire street) between the curb and the street (somewhat like a deep rain gutter for a roof) that is full of branches (a few which stick out a fair distance), leaves, and various organic and inorganic debris. Our youngest son goes after the small rubber hoop when it rolls across the street somehow, but ends up with the cassette-deck-belt-like part instead when I did not even know it had gotten to the other side of the street. It seems some of the other parts may also have been lost deep down in the recess, which may be about four feet deep or so. I do retrieve one part and see another part a bit too far down (and blocked by narrow crisscrossing dead branches) to easily get to. There are also similar pieces in the area, much like the game parts but more worn or broken, like tiny “tires” (perhaps from old Matchbox Cars) and broken bits of sinew (the type for crafts).

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What does it mean to dream of a griffin? At the core level, a griffin is a flight symbol. A flight symbol is rendered in a dream in subliminal anticipation of the hypnopompic waking start. Additionally, a griffin is a mix of unrelated animals, which is likely to be a unique precursor factor of the coalescence of the preconscious and emergent consciousness.

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Some of my other dreams that feature griffins (links): (1) Griffin vs. Grandfather Clock, (2) R Brand, (3) Making a Griffin?, (4) The Temple and the Tomb

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Morning of April 30, 2014. Wednesday.



I am back at the main library in La Crosse, though it seems a bit bigger than in reality. I find a table to sit at, at the southwestern corner. An unknown girl (high school or college), in blue jeans and a white top, on my left, says “hi” in a friendly manner and goes back to reading an orange hardcover book on chemistry, which has an embossed image of a water molecule on the cover but for some reason seems to have “familiar” circus poster motifs as well (such as the band of two-color alternating triangles) - yet it seems quite right in design and context somehow. The table (and perhaps the area itself) has a strange “ancient” atmosphere, like very old Sequoia trees in the back of my mind, or some such. The wood seems to have some sort of “electrical field” or “magic” of some kind, which seems to make a barely visible “aura” about it similar to the atmosphere of the planet. The girl seems to have read my mind and asks me what “Sequoia” means, which causes me to ponder if she is telepathic. I tell her that although some people claim it means “bird”, it actually means “pig in a pen”. She smiles and says, “Oh, I thought it meant pig with a pen”. I then am trying to work out if she is being obnoxious somehow, relating to the creator of the Cherokee alphabet, but do not respond, as she seems passive and cheerful (and nonthreatening).

I end up looking farther back behind my left shoulder and see a very large black book called “10,000 Great Dreams” which strongly reminds me of the ridiculous fiasco in real life called “10,000 Dreams Interpreted” by Gustavus (which I used to read in real life as a boy and it was so absurd, pointless, and wrong for the most part, I laughed until I felt giddy). I pick up the book and take it over to the desk. Then I notice that it is not actually a regular book, but a large black and white harlequin mask with the pages behind the mask. The eyes seem to be emeralds at first, but then I notice they are just green jelly, which fall out in a couple small piles on the table. I note some strange simple “sayings” on each page, none of which make any real sense. I read several, but can only remember one clearly. It says, “You must open your doors to look out your windows”, and then something about cheddar cheese being the “root of all evil” (this may date back to the 1980s where I saw a piece of Swiss-cheese-like blackness with the diagonally rendered top and bottom of the slice representing a “demon” - I think it, that is, this new dream aspect, may also be related to an episode of the “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” television series in the late 1990s or so where a man kept appearing in her dream with a slice of cheese and annoying her).

Also come the wise words: “Hands are the feet of your arms.”

Most of the “dreams” read like very short and boring mundane newspaper articles from a mainstream newspaper and with no diverse layers of insights or obscure (but meaningful) renderings as is common with dreams. Nothing visionary appears anywhere, either. Instead, a lot of it seems to have half-finished naïve political speeches or just one sentence at times. Only one, I remember enough to summarize it; it said something like “I was walking down the sidewalk and a girl on roller skates stole my wallet and I chased her and called her a b—- and threw rocks at everyone." I look over and notice that the aforementioned girl is wearing roller skates and her blue jeans have somehow transformed into white shorts but that does not seem to bother me. The "book cover” (mask) also has a red ribbon that seems to be connected as a silk “bookmark”. I pull on it, as it seems to be stuck between two pages near the back and realize the girl is “complaining” (moaning as if annoyed, rather) and it turns out to be a ribbon from her hair, which she retrieves. (I seem to firstly have been pulling her head down and over a bit via the apparently very long “bookmark” aka ribbon from that distance, but this is not the case at all; it just seems to have an odd physical effect, like some sort of “magnet” that makes her head move.) She soon does not mind, though, and in fact laughs about it and throws it back to me when I give it to her and we play a game of catch for about five or six rounds.

An elderly librarian taps me painfully on the shoulder from my right and points to a sign that says “No garter tossing in the library” and then makes a typical “shhh!” gesture, and I feel embarrassed.

Looking down, I notice that the mask has turned into a real flayed human face (in two vertical sections), which really makes me think if I should leave. The same librarian taps me again and points to another sign that reads in uppercase - “No defacing books in the library”. I realize that people may think that I am Ed Gein because of this, so I get up to leave and as I do, I notice that much of the material in the back of the “book” actually looks like a gossip column from a tabloid instead of relating to dreams. I can hear the librarian talking loudly to the authorities, many of them being fireman for some reason. “He was in there, throwing garters around, and suddenly tore off his face to make an artistic statement, just like Vincent Van Gogh!" The firemen then do a Keystone Cops routine around the library even though I am standing in plane sight.

The girl taps me on the shoulder and whispers "you saved us all”. I notice that the harlequin mask/real face/book cover is actually two messy (and melting?) pieces of the creature from the movie “Mimic” (1997) which looks like a human face, but which is meant to fool people before they are eaten. It looks more and more like a pile of melted cheese such as on a pizza.

The police come in and arrest the librarian for keeping a “fake” book in the library that was “written by a cockroach” (although in the movie, the creature is supposedly more like a cross between a termite and a praying mantis - though does look a lot like a giant cockroach in some scenes). Everyone is marched out of the library in an orderly fashion so that the library can be “fumigated” in case there are any more such books.

Morning of April 27, 2014. Sunday.



I am part of a Star-Trek-like team that is on a mission to a distant planet (which seems to have no oceans or larger bodies of water) where dessert recipes will be shared as a part of some sort of potential long-term truce between at least the two main groups that had been enemies. There does not seem to be any aliens, though, mostly people who live on other worlds under different laws and cultural foundations. The spaceships do not really seem like Star Trek spaceships, though. They have somewhat of an industrial look, reminding me more of the original “Battlestar Galactica” series (never saw any of the newer version).

There is a lot of focus on two large containers, which are a bit lake mason jars but fairly big. Each jar is full of apricot and pineapple jelly - with chunks of each in each mix. Both jars look like they are holding the same recipe end results even though they supposedly came from completely different cultures with different tastes and ideas about food. The pineapple pieces are about one-fifth of a circular slice. I have some of it from (I think) a different container (for “testing”) and it tastes nice. This is rather odd, as my wife and I had just had a discussion in real life about how we have hardly ever had dreams of eating anything, and even so, how the taste usually seems “off” or different somehow. In this case, though, it tastes exactly as it should (which means there is a first time for everything as my mother used to say).

Over time, there seems to be confusion about why the two desserts taste so similar. There is not any anger at that point, though, just a sort of tentative suspicion, mostly on the part of the team who has landed on the planet (the other, more seemingly militant group, remaining in orbit, it seems). However, the last scene involves the “other side”, which is a man that appears to be Chinese, who suddenly grabs both jars and stands with his team members who are now assuming an aggressive stance. They appear to be standing on a narrower wooden bridge, perpendicular to where the other group’s smaller spaceships (possibly shuttles) are “parked”.

“I fight!” he calls out as his final words of whatever their conversation was about, and still holding the two jars, planning to take both back to his world.

Suddenly, realizing that he had been deceived, the leader of the other group gives orders to shoot them down. Lasers flash out in several beams at the other group from the small spacecrafts as they rise in the air at the same time (some of the men still standing about, though, including the leader), but the members of the other group are already being beamed away safely as the lasers go through them (or rather, through their residual after-image left as the transporting is being completed) with no threat to their well-being. The other leader looks extremely annoyed and disappointed at having lost both containers of apricot and pineapple jelly and also looks worried about the intensifying war on the horizon.