non-lucid

Morning of February 17, 2014. Monday.



The first setting is the house on Barolin Street, where we have not lived since 2008. We are in the living room, but our attention is drawn to the front yard. When we go to the front porch, we notice about six cats, most of them black, all seemingly trying to catch the same bird in our front yard, close to the tall wooden fence.

We go out to have a closer look, mostly to see which cats are ours, if any. After a short time when we are outside looking around, our house changes into a different unknown house in a different location. (It may be the Avon Street house in America, but the details are not correct). Upon closer inspection, I notice that the cats are all clockwork cats. I even take parts of them apart and put them back as their gears whirr and move about and they walk around as such, even incomplete. We go “back” into the house, which is now implied to not be where we are living. An unknown woman, who is married, is cooking food for her clockwork daughters. They seem human. It seems her husband is at work doing some sort of engineering that involves building androids. In some ways, this is like a sequel to my previous dream about the “Ticktockman” but in other ways is not related.

I ask about the clockwork bird from my other dream (though I do not seem to recall it as a dream). I ask her if clockwork creations can actually fly (though the bird did in my previous related dream) in saying, “Have they found a way to do that yet?” I think the answer is yes, but I do not hear all of what is said. The woman is washing dishes as she is talking. It is possible that the bird the clockwork cats had caught was actually their clockwork bird that had gotten out of its cage. This issue is actually spoken of by one of the girls later. Still, there is a sense of disbelief that a clockwork creation of any kind, no matter how complex, could actually fly.

From this point, we go back outside, but from here, it is now my Cubitis home. I have a very clear view of the flowers in the north side, near the darker red iron trellises. I walk out to the shed in back and when I turn to look back through the doorway of the main part of the shed, I see a tall brown bear standing upright just on the edge of the carport directly facing the path to the shed and where I am. However, it is not moving. Zsuzsanna goes near it and I realize it is another clockwork creation that has wound down and would not be a threat even if it was operating, as I assume it is a toy.

My dream changes again. Zsuzsanna and I are now seemingly in La Crosse. She is looking for details on her “real mother”, as in my dream her mother in real life is an imposter. We go to a building that is somewhat like a library (yet reminds me of a tax office in Brisbane), but I believe is a place where they assign orphaned children to a variety of parents in different regions (this is likely related to how we had to show our birth certificates at the counter at the tax office). The woman who works at the counter is somehow revealed to be Zsuzsanna’s real mother through documentation (though she is much thinner and happier-looking than Zsuzsanna’s mother). However, this seems wrong at some levels because the woman, in a friendly manner, denies that she ever had children or lived at certain locations. I remark on how much she is like Zsuzsanna’s real mother in some ways, so maybe she is her mother (which of course makes absolutely no sense as she is nothing like Zsuzsanna’s real-life mother). I mention the voice, accent, and manner. Suddenly, I notice that Zsuzsanna’s real mother is standing there, off to our right, agreeing with me in a friendly, observant way (which makes even less sense than the other senseless aspect of this scenario). In other words, Zsuzsanna’s real mother is commenting on how the other person is likely Zsuzsanna’s real mother because she - is a lot like Zsuzsanna’s actual mother, even though, again, she is not like her at all.

I vaguely consider the play on Zsuzsanna’s mother (though we had not seen her in years) being “taxing”, though without realizing it is autosymbolism or that I am dreaming. At the same time, I know that Zsuzsanna is nothing like her mother, so much so, there is a sense of her having been adopted, which is probably what stabilized the rest of the autosymbolism in this scene.

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Aspects of this dream, primarily the clockwork bird references and inferences, were prescient, though in regard to something Zsuzsanna had seen that I could not have known about, with additional typical prescience and inexplicable patterns of synchronicity.

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Morning of February 15, 2014. Saturday.



I had apparently been working with colored pencils, mostly writing but uncertain of all the content other than having a focus on dreams. Different colors seem to relate to different dream types.

There is a feature of two pencils forming a cross, which seems to have some significance. One is blue, one is red.

I have an association with an intersection, which is a recurring feature in my dreams. It may relate (in this case) to having different views than someone else, or “going in a different direction”, yet in contrast, it also has the implication of meeting or coming together. Thus, there is the aspect of ambiguity.

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Morning of February 14, (Valentine’s Day) 2014. Friday. (There were at least four versions within a closer time period).



I can say with personal certainty that (for myself, that is), relating to my last dream, seeing a crib being dismantled is an indication of actual death in real life (precognitive symbol - possibly also a confirmation symbol for others as well). This is based on several similar dreams over a lifetime - each time I also felt that the “crib should be mine” (“because of my children” - the first time being before I even had children in real life) but did not say anything in my dream. I did not check any “dream dictionaries” if this meaning dominates - but it seems fairly obvious assuming they even have “dismantling a crib” - then again, most “dream dictionaries” are based on indirect fabricated divination aspects rather than obvious logic in many cases and many of these scam artists do not accept precognition (the main guiding force behind dreams) due to wanting to promote “dream dictionaries” and “interpreters” and such, but I digress.

In this last case, it was a white wooden crib with a sunflower symbol (decal) on the upper part behind the headboard. Sunflowers have something to do with people “becoming angels” which first seemed to occur around age thirteen I think - directly relating to the movie “The Other” (1972) and my recurring associations, as I saw the movie often enough that it is fixed in my memory.

Now onto this dream (again, a direct follow-up to “My brother-in-law’s plan” which also had a mention of McDonald’s - a bit odd, I think). It is one of those dreams that repeats about four or five times through at least two stages of near-waking as if in some sort of continuity of “practice modes” - this is why it is sometimes difficult to write the “dream” in a linear fashion, as the majority of the more significant dreams I have had repeat a few times in one night with only minor variations or even many times over a ten year period (sometimes a dream that is very clearly and precisely a “follow-up” dream occurs years after the first). In this case, I seemed less ill-at-ease each time the UFO (classic alien flying saucer) hummed overhead or when the vacuum cleaner came in (though in the first few versions, no buildings were destroyed as in the final version). In the last version, there was the sound of glass shattering and it just went to another building. This was the most vivid sound and most vivid part of my dream. I am somehow aware that the flying glass shards are somewhat kidney-shaped (though it was the liver in reality - the kidneys came secondly, I think, based on some details I learned of today).

I am with several other (unknown) people at a McDonald’s restaurant in La Crosse. However, for some strange reason, I am also aware we are near the Nundah Library in Brisbane in Australia (which I have not been to in years, either) at 1 Bage Street. I try to calm the other people, at least four women and three men dressed formally (as if working in cubicles in a business environment) but they duck down and scream a few times.

A robotic vacuum cleaner comes in, but it has gone haywire and is spinning all over the place and almost succeeding in going up the wall, but not quite (falling backwards but managing to land on sections of wheels just enough to get it moving again). It is not that threatening. However, as vacuum cleaners “suck up dust”, it may be another precognitive play on “ashes to ashes, dust to dust”. (It could also be some sort of oddball play on my childhood pachydermophobia as the grayish vacuum hose reminds me of an elephant’s trunk.)

Eventually, after the UFO seems to suck up debris or something from a nearby building, it goes off to wherever its destination is. Again, the versions are only slightly different. In one, the vacuum cleaner seems more “intent” and not as dysfunctional as later versions.

I always had a very strange feeling that my older sister Marilyn would pass away on Valentine’s Day (the same day as my father had in 1979). However, it was the 13th. It was only the 14th here (in Australia) at the time. I had hoped she would live another year at least - but then pain would probably dominate and decrease the quality of life.

This dream is along the same lines as two other dreams that foreshadowed the death of relatives (two of my brothers). In one case, brother Earl flew off in a UFO he had built and in another dream both Earl and Jim had been lifted in a beam of light from two different closer locations in La Crosse (in these cases, there was even less knowledge of their state of health being so problematic). This imagery and recurring association seems closely based on the movie “The Frighteners” - which is a Michael J. Fox film, who I also had precognitive dreams about relating to his illness (in exact detail) long before he made it public. For some reason he is one of the only celebrities in dreams I have ever felt close to as a “friend”. (The movie, though, had nothing to do with UFOs, just the beam of light coming down for souls at death.)

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Morning of February 12, 2014. Wednesday.

Dream #: 17,222-01. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



My dream had a precognitive thread as a suspicious frame appeared on the dream journal website. It implied how you could preserve your anonymity by signing your name to a petition. “Preserve your anonymity by signing your name?” I blocked the source site.

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In my dream, my older sister Marilyn had passed away. I would not call it precognitive as I already had one that revealed a lot of what was going on before I learned of her illness.

In real life, it seems unusual how so many people I had known were having issues (one of my friends seems to appear about twenty years older than me even though we are the same age). Even my jovial best friend Toby had a heart attack, which I learned the same day a brother wrote to me that our sister would not make it another day. On this same day, I also learned that a female classmate around my age (born the same year) had died in 2008.

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In my dream, my brother-in-law, Bob, is going through the house and working out what to do with everything. He is dismantling a small wooden cradle. I wonder why he does not ask if I want it. Zsuzsanna and I have a baby, but perhaps I should not say anything out of respect. Sister Marilyn never had children but did do a lot of babysitting. I get the impression that he is dismantling their crib because there is no hope of having children as a couple now. It may be a play on “cradle to grave.”

My brother-in-law talks for about ten minutes. I feel unusual being in the house. My mother is gone, my father had died years previously, my sister is gone (in my dream), and Toby is in trouble. There is a brief appearance by sister Carol who tells me of Marilyn’s death (but she had already died in real life).

He is talking with an unfamiliar girl, telling her he will be using many aliases. (He cannot read or write in real life). I am unsure what his plan is. Perhaps he intends to get loans (a play on “alone?”) with the people at the businesses or banks thinking they are communicating with several individuals. I think this will cause him to get too many different bills for the same thing, though he does not seem to mind that prospect.

He announces “R” names for picking up his mail, and the girl writes them on a notepad. There is already a stack of letters. At least two include a petition regarding privacy, overdue bills, and possibly business models and donation requests. There are no other addresses. He will receive any mail with his aliases (as with “general delivery”).

“Ronald? Or is that too much like McDonald?” I suggest.

There is a short pause. My brother-in-law calmly says, “Yeah…” and leaves via the front door. I feel foolish over the name recommendation and slightly regretful at not giving him additional possible aliases.

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Morning of February 3, 2014. Monday.



The backyard and back area of our home is Cubitis, but the front area is Barolin Street in Australia, so the directional orientation is very ambiguous. North is one way in the back, but the opposite direction at the front, assuming the composite is half and half as it seems - it does not seem that odd that north is in both (opposite) directions. The area near the railroad tracks has a very high screen-like plastic fence. Over time, I get the impression that an airplane came down and crashed where the small lake (for the cows) was - perhaps it hit the silo. Really, though, the area is different and seemingly an industrial area with a lot of buildings, including a few factories.

This “crashing” or explosive noise happens a few times. I am somewhat annoyed and wonder if it poses a possible threat. The actual premise of my dream changes, as I point out a plane that flies over the house and which actually does crash in the same spot as the previous at one point - but later this seems not to have happened. When my dream then implies a different reason for the noise, I then see that they are demolishing (fictional) buildings with explosives. The debris showers nosily against the fence and I wonder how close they plan on getting. Eventually, they seem to be stopping for the day. I notice one of the workers in the neighbor’s yard, walking towards the front of the house. I yell at him about what is going on. There is some sort of remote control device on a rod - the remote on one end of the thinner silver rod, and a matte-black grip on the other, which is used to guide a smaller robotic cart into some of the areas they are destroying. A German shepherd dog with an orange flag tied around its collar on a small wire escapes from a cage (seeming to be a part of their work) and for some reason the man gets distracted and temporarily trapped in the same cage and falls down as I jab him in the forehead and eyes with the remote after taking it from him.

On a side note, I have had other fairly recent dreams about a passive (to me) German Shepherd, when in the past, most larger dogs (usually rust-colored or black) were “enemies”. In this case, the dog starts attacking the man even though he is seemingly the owner or trainer yet somehow the dog is (temporarily?) my protector in a sense (perhaps in just being in my yard). The man eventually gets up to try to leave.

The man is only slightly hurt, but his vision has not fully returned. He starts yelling about people interfering with his work, accidentally going into our house, but out again, and I start yelling at him “How would you like it if I came to your house and started blowing up things near your yard?”

Soon, there is another explosion, but in the other direction. My family and I go out to see and notice the devastation. The man is lying dead near where the porch had been. Two cars on our side of the street had been destroyed, one flipped. Oddly, the damage looks like an elongated splintery effect on the sides of the cars, almost like narrower metal barnacles. The porch is gone and the front and side walls of both front bedrooms. We tell our oldest daughter that “your room is gone” - although in real life it had been our oldest son’s room. Strangely, though, there is no debris, just the missing areas - and I contemplate how to set things up back to where they were. It also seems that none of our possessions were actually damaged.

However, I must first drag the man to the back and bury him. I am not certain if it was suicide or some sort of accident where he did not get away in time after deliberately planning it, but my main guess is probably suicide. I ask my wife where I should put him. I then decide to put him near the edge of the carport in the back. When I dig, I use a fairly small shovel, but get an amazing amount done for the size. There is a lot of junk mail on the carport, some smaller bundles of three to five in rubber-bands. The physical weight of the man seems fairly realistic, although he seems a bit small and thin on average. I throw him into the hole and start filling it up as well as tossing in some of the junk mail for filler. (Aha! - I incorrectly wrote “junk male” at first). It is close to the clothesline and I accidentally knock one orange t-shirt onto the ground so that it has to be washed again later. I am thinking the authorities might show up eventually - due to the massive explosion on the street - but by then, I will probably be finished and perhaps having dinner, though I am not sure the house could be “redone” by that point.

The orange t-shirt (and I notice others on the line) and the orange pennant up from the dog’s collar remind me of two things; the fact that my family (parents) lived near an orange grove and my father’s orange pennant (safety flag) on the back of a bicycle he rode (mostly when carrying something across the back baskets - I think this was a legal requirement).

In the last part of my dream, flowing into a hypnopompic state, I was hearing some truly horrible overly-modulated dubstep “music” and was getting the impression of a person marching through about four inches of mud, taking three or four of the same steps in time before each one forward. I am very annoyed and wake, working out that the “explosions” in my dream were caused by the Venetian blinds slapping against the window frame. (This is the second dream that was seemingly influenced by this.)

UPDATE: I am tentatively marking this as precognitive - because the imagery at one of the main points of more vivid perception turned out to be correct, except that the effect has been caused by tall growing grass coming out around the sides of the vehicle. There is no way we would have known that the neighbors would have left a vehicle like this for so long. Also, there has been some digging next door and an investigation by firemen (we had not called any authorities.)

Morning of January 31, 2014. Friday.



This is a long dream of flying. Hardly anything happens other than flying around over mostly a fairly barren area. There does not seem to be many buildings, yet there is supposedly a larger population. At times, I am wearing a rather loose-fitting Superman outfit but normal clothes at other times. Sometimes I have the cape, sometimes I do not. Most people either do not notice or seem a bit annoyed or frightened.

I go to a small school that looks much like the kind on an old television western such as “Gunsmoke”. The only other person in the building (a one-room school) is a man with a beard who seems to be a teacher. I tell him that “all other people can fly”. I say this a few times, but he does not quite seem to understand. I say this because I seem to be certain that other people can fly, but no one does but me, which seems a bit annoying. I insist that “all other people can fly” but he seems to deny it. Apparently I am the only one in my dream (at the time) that can.

I fly around and notice there are no buildings at all in some areas. The people all seem like pilgrims at this point. I land in the middle of a long featureless road and someone calls me “Kal-El”. Not much happens. The people sort of seem like they are from the 1600s or earlier, but only at times. They are friendly for the most part when I am standing on the ground. They do not seem to have any cars or any kind of technology for the most part. The higher I am, the faster I fly. The lower I go, the slower.

Morning of January 30, 2014. Thursday.



This dream is mostly uneventful but of some of the same nuances common to all dreams linked to certain types of long-term meditation. For some reason, whenever I use phrasing that relates to “universal” or various forms of happiness or health, I dream vividly about wrapped presents, often Christmas. In this case, though, I believe it is our oldest daughter’s birthday, yet somehow seemingly several years ago - and yet I also see a lot of Christmas decorations and sparkling wreaths (her birthday is nowhere near Christmas, though). There is an idea that we could share the birthday celebrations with my sister Marilyn in America (who has cancer now), but I am wondering about how much time would be involved. It is almost as if I am contemplating whether this is an “instantaneous” potential (in just suddenly going to America with everything in a matter of seconds) or somehow in “real time”, which would take days or weeks to plan and do (although I am not quite aware it is a dream). There are lots of wrapped presents in a few locations.

Later, the landlord shows up (regarding something relating to the grass and the lack of rain and such) and talks awhile in the kitchen, and after this, there are missing floorboards which I am concerned that our younger daughter may get too close to. There seem to be some subtle “practice scenes” at another level where she does fall through (but is uninjured), but not in more clearer dream time. In real life, it would be only a short fall if the boards were missing.

In my dream, there is some sort of strange series of conversations about letters written to my wife from a friend or business associate from the cat club from Maryborough. One scene (relating to the apparent disapproval of the friend or business associate) relates to how we did not date according to western ideas or so-called standards, which is not an issue with us as neither of us are mainstream and are not involved in mainstream culture other than my extensive teaching work which, however, never links to anything “fringe”-related (although I do warn my own children about New Age beliefs, pseudo-science, false systems, and virtually endless Doomsday propaganda which seem to be overwhelming these days, even now in 2014). Still, there is some sort of annoyance regarding different letters of how this or that “was not like the west” or something along those lines.

Apparently, though, I later slipped into a really strange state in the morning. My wife told me I was talking on and on (in my sleep) about the “letters not coming out in order” or some such, something about the alphabet and other patterns. What I remember is that the entire right side of the room seemed to be linked to some sort of accordion-bellows-like construct of alternating white and black waves of some sort (not sound - something else relating to a higher dimension). It was sort of tiring in trying to calculate something in my sleep and I had several false awakenings. I could not quite get my mind working relating to this “object” or “door”; area is one plane (at a time) only - in squared units, volume can only be realistically linked to three dimensions (in cubed units), not more, at least due to supposed morphing from a three-dimensional perspective in viewing a higher dimension - although you could get partial volume, I think, just as with surface area of sides of three-dimensional solids giving you some relevant data. Still, the black and white seemed “even” as if it was meant to be a starting point for more complex patterns, perhaps. Perhaps it had something to do with “folding space”, which seems a fair bet. I am getting frustrated trying to work out what the net (geometry meaning) would appear as or look like, along with other connections to whatever abstract nonsense is occurring.

Or maybe it was just some sort of surreal distortion of Venetian blinds and the highly irritating noise they make when slapping against the window frame every few minutes when a breeze picks up - when I am sleeping or trying to…Perhaps I am trying to calculate how to obliterate them completely…

Morning of January 29, 2014. Wednesday.



It seems we are living in one of our old apartments, on Duffy Street in Bundaberg, but it is much bigger. There is one part where it seems that there are several doors on the way to our carport area. Someone had left some doors open and I am somewhat annoyed. The neighbor’s truck seems to be in our carport. It is supposedly cool in my dream, and I am somewhat concerned with wintry winds entering our place even though it is very hot here in real life.

Later, I have a portable nuclear missile launcher near the kitchen area. I do not know how this came about. Apparently I had placed it in a baby stroller and carted it home. Perhaps I thought it was an old air conditioner (or heater?) a business had set out in the alley for cleanup removal. It looks like a large square commercial humidifier yet is somehow armed with at least two missiles (or perhaps even four). I do not consider how absurd it would be for a nuclear missile to somehow fit inside a humidifier. I find myself with ideas on launching an attack on the other side of the world from the convenience of my home, perhaps three or four different main locations, if possible, to eliminate the most people.

I am not even sure why this decision has been reached, but it is partly because of bringing down the population, I think, for the benefit of all, but especially for the benefit of my descendents and certain “unspoiled” regions. It is not very logical, as such weapons destroy natural resources as well.

I set up the launch with some sort of small control pad that is separate and attached to the larger machine with a few wires. I watch something on a television screen, but am not sure if it is directly related to the missile launcher, but it is supposedly a targeted area, seemingly a Comic-Con event with William Shatner as the main speaker. There may be something about him running for office as well or at least something related to politics. (This is perhaps from posts relating to William Shatner in my Facebook news feed over the last few days in real life.)

Eventually I realize that it would probably not be a good idea to launch the missiles and kill millions of people.

However, this is only because I do not want holes in our ceiling and roof of our apartment (as my perspective grows in lucidity though I am not fully lucid), which might be pricey to repair as well as possibly cause water damage in our place if it rains, so I begin to shut down the launch sequence after making a mental note of it. At this point, it is very vivid (but not in full acknowledgment I am in a dream - otherwise I would likely have launched them just to see what would happen) and I puzzle somewhat over the idea of how missiles would otherwise go up and through the ceiling without incident. It does seem that they could at first, but there is a strange ambiguity in trying to work out the nature of the setting.

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Morning of January 29, 2014. Wednesday. [Dual narrative format utilized Saturday, 29 July 2017.]



[Through the haze of sleep, random thoughts of the 1959 Japanese movie “The Manster” activate for no particular reason.]

My dream has a fictional backstory in which I am a military convict though I am not me but with a different role and a different past. I seem to be with a group of fellow escapees.

[Does a dream of “being someone else” really have any meaning? Or maybe it is moot, as the dream self is, by its very nature, not the conscious self. Does an actor only choose roles which are true to their nature and are exactly like them? No.]

I eventually decide to go off on my own after the rest of them choose to hide in a building that is not very easy to hide in in my opinion. They plan to stay for a week or two. They may stay within rooms that are accessed via other rooms that are somewhat difficult to go through. However, the authorities are already nearby in the same area, not even a full block away. This makes me wary of their choice to stay here.

[Dream characters are fickle. What is there even to hide from in a dream? The preconscious is sometimes a nuisance of course, especially in the last dream of a sleeping period, but then, waking is a biological necessity. No one should fear neural patterns that activate throughout the sleep cycle. No one should run from The Waker.]

The other prisoners think that I am wrong in leaving the building, because I would be more in the open, but it really does not seem problematic to me as such. I run near an area with mostly tall grass and railroad tracks as well as within residential areas. I only see two police cars and a few military vehicles going the opposite direction that I am. I mainly seem to be going north and northeast.

[I have freedom within my dream, as well as infinite potential. I am of my own mind. How could I not be free?]

There is the cliché of taking a role onstage, pretending to be a part of the play while I am being looked for, and in this case I am not discovered. The other actors do not seem to care about my intrusion.

[A reinduction factor activates as I think of my unconscious mind as being “underground” or “below”. It is there I can be “lower” in my dream state and “farther” from The Waker aka the preconscious.]

My situation partly resets and repeats as I end up going into an underground area, but which turns out to be some sort of clothing store where I end up in a fashion show preparation, pretending to be one of the male models. In fact, an unknown female seems to think I am the main model to be in the show. Even so, most of the other models do not even show up.

[This is interesting but one cannot hide from the dynamics of their conscious self forever, especially after enough physical vitality is reattained. Regardless of how opportunistic real life may be, the fictional dream self can be very stubborn in avoiding its natural fate of cessation.]

I choose to go into an unlocked house from an alley. This unfamiliar house is semi-dark inside. Suddenly, a younger version of my wife Zsuzsanna appears. I soon appear to be on a large bed (the head of it to the north) trying to work out what direction to go from here. Still, something seems different about the nature of who I am.

[Many threads of my conscious self have activated. I am no longer in my dream self’s original role. I start to remember my years of happiness with Zsuzsanna. The preconscious must be lurking nearby. The bed is present and reminding me I must have been sleeping all this time.]

I have strange sensations in my body, oriented somewhat to my left side. It is not like any form of physical hypnopompia that I can remember experiencing before. I hold onto Zsuzsanna and we start indulging in passion.

[Where is the preconscious? It is a mystery - or maybe he or she is gone since I have accepted that my real physical body is in bed asleep.]

A military convict, one of the men from the first part of my dream, emerges from my body from my left side. It is like the climatic scene from “The Manster”. We are now two people. The other male looks at me in a very puzzled manner. Zsuzsanna seemingly makes sounds like a panther, growling and hissing, though it is more as if these are sounds from elsewhere, perhaps from a real panther that remains unseen. Still, the other male has had enough and runs off. He does not need to wake me as I am already waking. I have a pleasurable feeling.

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Morning of January 28, 2014. Tuesday.



In my dream this evening during a nap, I was looking at a dream journal site (not that common an event - I had only been vaguely thinking about the site). It becomes a standard to post dreams in a combination of actual photographs and pictures of a dream entry written out on something. In my case, I had posted the photograph of a very large cardboard poster near a fence (seemingly on a distorted version of our last home on Barolin Street) with a few miscellaneous items in the front yard, including a tricycle and an American football and some other items. I remember almost all of the “dream within a dream” in what was written, but quickly forgot it all upon waking (in the past, I had read entire novels in a few of my dream states, which is extremely uncomfortable - usually the repeat of a novel I had read in real life, but usually with a lot of additional distorted scenes).

In an “additional notes” area (in the “actual” photo of the cardboard poster that my dream is written on in large enough letters to read when on the web page) there is mention of a girl named Angélique in our family - with a note on the acute accent on the first letter “e” as if it had special significance in my dream (that is, the implied documented dream within this dream). After this, a poster from the “actual” dream journal site makes comments relating to her own dream, which I also cannot remember. I know there was something about “being a portal” and something about “lu” combined with another syllable or word.

The play on two meanings for “poster” is curious in this dream.

Morning of January 28, 2014. Tuesday.

Dream #: 17,207-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 70.



There are typical composites in my dream, including the ditch of the north area of the Cubitis backyard. There is a fictitious house where the railroad tracks were in reality (where there is now a highway). There is a typical intruder (trespasser) scenario with unknown young females.

In a later segment, Zsuzsanna and I own a restaurant in an unknown area that is otherwise reminiscent of the east corner of Stadcor Street and Hamilton Road in Wavell Heights. We also own a cinder block house on the other side of the restaurant’s parking lot.

We are going to live in our restaurant as if it was our residence. Both buildings are one-storey and about the same size. They are the only buildings in that half of the street. The rest of the lots (to the north) contain trees. In correlating the imaginary area with a map, the restaurant is south-most on the corner. North of it (assuming Stadcor Street) is the parking lot, then the house, then the trees.

Behind the restaurant, the parking lot, and the house seems to be a high hedge (and more trees beyond) that join with the trees in the middle area of the street. An L-shaped hedge borders the south side and part of the front of the restaurant. Beyond is a road with much more traffic. It runs east and west, modeling Hamilton Road. There are at least three high stacks of used automobile tires on the opposite side of the street from the front of the restaurant. I am unsure how we came to own all this property.

After going into the restaurant with Zsuzsanna to check it out, I see that it is mostly empty (other than having a few picnic tables for customers). There are no curtains on any of the many large windows that mostly face the north and west. I think that the first thing to do is to put up curtains and then move in our furniture and later, possessions. I remain unsure about the status of having restaurant supplies.

Two annoying unfamiliar women come in thinking our restaurant is open. I get the impression that one of them had worked for the previous owner. One of them rudely sits on the countertop (the counter of which extends east through the middle of the building). I believe that they may be the same women from the earlier scene where they had two daughters, and they were all being intrusive in our other home, although mostly only in our yard.

I tell them that this will be our home, but then I think we may be living in the house near the parking lot, though I remain unsure. I absentmindedly sit atop a picnic table, but then I get down after realizing how obnoxious an act it is.

I remember a story in the newspaper (from real life) where a woman stalked and continuously threatened a teenage girl who had been sitting atop a picnic table at a park.

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Morning of January 27, 2014. Monday.

Dream #: 17,206-03. Reading time (optimized): 3 min.



I am in the distant future and about eighteen years old. I am in a control station where men are performing maintenance. The underground chamber is dark. There are three sets of tracks that interlink, in an arrangement of one above the other in some areas so that a train may be very close when passing in either direction above or below another. It is a bookcase-like framework. Groups of men cooperate to guide a big fire hose and are watering down sections of the track after some trains pass so that they do not overheat. I see steam everywhere. There is noise, and it is hard work. The population is dense, so underground trains must move across a big complex grid of tracks of at least three tiers. (Some of this was influenced by “The Bloodhouse,” a 23-minute documentary, about a week ago, about where my wife was born in Port Kembla, a town of surreal industrialization.)

Trains would crash into each other unless a worker remains vigilant, using a control box on a large column. It is like the duty of an air traffic controller but a faster pace. There are about four pudgy men on a break before checking the condition of some older panels and equipment of lesser use. I wander into the area, saying I am only looking around and enjoy learning from places I have not yet been. I explain myself because an older man (of about sixty), whose name is George, asks me why I am “back with humans” again because he recognizes me from when he was much younger, yet I was of the same appearance then. My presence seems to annoy him. I like George, but I am apologetic that he does not seem to like beings who are “not human.” He was part of a group of adopted children from parents whom aliens had abducted, but the adoption agency never revealed the truth. After their parents were back on Earth, their children never learned of this. (“George” is a play on “György,” my wife’s father’s name).

Over time, I witness a derailing. People talk about how to avoid them (influence from “The Bloodhouse” video). I go to a group who are familiar with adoption coverups. Polish people were also abducted. I want to find out about George’s parents so he might have closure. I use a machine that is reminiscent of an old disused video game kiosk to insert a device that is like a CRT monitor (but lighter) into a hollow section. I enter access codes. The history of the world is available. There are scenes of dinosaurs and flying pterodactyls and later, prehistoric men in a later era. I tell someone about a species of dinosaur that could speak, comparable to parrots. There is an idea, featured as a cartoon of low quality that the first “dragon” was a pterodactyl. I lived during these times and have vague memories of my prehistoric past.

I am now near a frozen lake. Athletic females are ice-skating as part of the “Ice Capades.” There are small groups of spectators, one of old female hippies from Nimbin who have at least two mermaid dolls among them; one with a green scaly tail, the other with a purple scaly tail. A couple seems in a trance as they can barely move. I decide not to approach any of them. I slide around on the ice on my stomach, mentally propelling myself forward at a slow speed at times, enjoying the iciness for several minutes. I eventually conclude that it is not that interesting, so I get up to do something else.

Details about blue and brown eyes become a focus. It allows me to find George’s father, who supposedly had brown eyes. I gather documents to reveal the parents of all the adopted children. Even though the people are all old now, they will have closure. I get the impression that George’s parents are still alive, so he will finally get to know them.

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Dream signature: Vestibular system adaptation with vestibular cortex activity (railroad tracks above me), melatonin mediation (workers watering railroad tracks), preconscious mediation (talking with George), thinking skills and consciousness emerging (entering access codes), dream state sustained (frozen lake), contemplation of vestibular system correlation to increase awareness of physicality (watching ice skaters), contemplation of water reinduction with awareness the body does not move while sleeping (mermaid dolls), willing vestibular system correlation (sliding on ice), REM recognition (focus on eye dynamics). Waking contemplation (George “returning home”).

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Morning of January 23, 2014. Thursday.



This dream starts out in the small front room (left-side of front door) of my sister’s house on Loomis Street (on a side note, my vivid dream about her health I posted previously - though with no real-life knowledge of such, turned out to have a few layers of precise precognition - unfortunately). I am not fully lucid. I am however, aware that I can manifest things somehow even though I am not aware it is only the “dream world”.

Instead of an additional notes on the layered precognitive dream about Texas, I will include it here. In real life, my sister was just diagnosed with lung cancer and liver cancer - I had known nothing about this until I was contacted just over a week ago. My dream “Texas winter wonderland and ‘dying’ relative” was dated December 29, 2013. This dream had several precise layers of precognition, a couple immediate, the sister issue less than a month. The “wife’s younger step father” actually turned out to be my wife’s younger half-brother (who bears a striking resemblance to a younger version of his father). This represented how he was in a state of “recovery” from his abusive criminally insane mother and I saw him in real life for the first time in years later that same day. In fact, without even thinking about it (since various types of precognition is so normal for me), I had posted an additional entry on one site where I mentioned meeting him after the previous dream (without making the obvious connection). I still have not met my wife’s step father, and her half-brother in real life looked exactly like the younger male in my dream in manner and expression.

My sister, however, was beginning to experience the pain of cancer (she did not know she had it) on that date (and for some reason, did not get it checked out in time - she is in the hospital now). Again, there was the unusual Texas winter in real life that I did not know about. The unknown woman in that dream (who I thought my sister had changed into) was actually someone I did not know who had been helping her. Almost everything in my dream was of composite precognition - which is often the case on a day to day basis, but usually too personally irrelevant or trivial to write about much.

In the first part of this entry’s dream, I want to take a photograph of my “dream” even though I am not lucid. In other words, I am dreaming that I am having a dream while “awake” in my dream. This seems a bit strange, but this is how it is. My sister is there, but appearing to be a bit better after her husband goes and gets her with regards to the camera. (In real life, after I was told of her condition, she did drastically improve according to a message from a friend of hers - so an earlier dream where she was in the hospital but doing a lot better also turned out to be somewhat precognitive - in that dream, my wife and I were there and our youngest daughter was sitting on the bed with her - however, in all honesty, the cancer is pretty bad). At any rate, I deliberately (mentally) create large click beetles that form on the wall. The click beetle represents a person (or “normal” mainstream people in general) “bugging” me with their ideas, since click beetles bite the lip of a sleeping person. However, these click beetles may not be able to be photographed, as they are mental creations of a dream within my dream. There is also an obvious play on the click of the camera as I hear the “click” when I take the pictures. To my surprise, the click beetles show up in the photographs.

A few other people come into my dream and I am in a different (larger) room. An unknown older male tries to do the same thing I had done, but the beetle becomes “too big” and then flies around the room and chases him as he screams.

Later, I am somehow immediately in the backyard of our present home. It seems really late at night. A group of men, about seven or more, are walking in a drunken manner down the street from the north on the opposite side from our house. (This of course, happens fairly often in real life). My youngest son is awake and also in the backyard. The men walk along singing some sort of song as drunks often do in the middle of the night. As they are approaching, I float into the air and somehow “walk” on the thin metal clothesline to get a better look at them (to see past the higher fence-line). I become aware that their walking is somewhat marionette-like, reminding me a little of Pinocchio.

They get closer and closer. I sense they are college students, or more specifically, college (American) football students(?) - not sure from where. As they get closer, crossing the street to our side, I then walk along the fence like a cat would do (of course, which would be physically impossible for a person). They say hello to me and wave and are a bit rowdy and annoying. One starts talking about various things, including feuds with people that are trying to sleep and acting as if the streets are theirs to do whatever they want on - including yelling gibberish and random unrelated names at people they cannot even see. His nose starts to get a bit bigger when he speaks. (This “nose growing” might seem like a phallic symbol to some, but that does not make any sense in light of the events and associations). The others do not seem to notice. In fact, every time one of them speaks, their nose grows a bit. This means that they are not capable of speaking without distorting the truth. One comes closer to the fence, and, while I am hovering slightly above him in midair, I punch him in the face. He starts complaining about me confronting his useless foolishness and begins creating an immediate “revisionist history” of my life’s path. His nose then grows so large, it is at least two feet long and covering his entire face so not even his eyes are visible, the weight actually preventing him from getting up until his friends help him up and then have to guide him, as his nose is so big, he can no longer see where he is going.

They continue southward, but turn down the alleyway near the apartments, and I see lights come on in the apartments from people annoyed by their antics.

Drunkenness in dreams is seemingly my mind’s way of internally showing how such people are in a sort of “limbo” (an intermediate place or state relating to a mismatch of the liminal “gates” and not correctly “phasing” to either one or the other - that is physical reality or deeper, meaningful dreaming) and can neither discern waking reality or dream representations of anything, so are useful at neither.

There was a precognitive layer in this dream as well. Just now (in real life), a young drunk pulled a board off our fence. He mostly was in the middle of the road using it to hit cars. Three others were walking down the street and he threatened them. He was fighting a bit with all three and then he fell backwards. Eventually, two police officers arrived but they just let him yell, dance around, and swing the board at them without doing anything. (They were very cautious in going near him.) I cannot say I have seen police behave that way before. At any rate, a police van came and I guess he went in on his own. Nothing like this has happened before in real life at this address.

Morning of January 19, 2014. Sunday.



This dream is really too hard to describe correctly, but I will try to summarize anyway. I am not “in” the dream directly, but an invisible being that follows along with the dream’s main character, an unfamiliar male. It does not seem to be on Earth, but on an Earth-like planet, perhaps a planet that is mostly one large prison. There is something that seems like some sort of strange game show or actual survival contest. The only prize seems to be being allowed to have more freedom, I think and getting more meals or something along those lines. It seems to take place in some kind of huge partly holographic area that keeps changing in some ways. There are a lot of “deadly” tricks using mirrors as if with some sort of survival-oriented carnival.

At one point, the man runs down a large hall. A strange (but somewhat human-like) alien shoots at him with a laser, but it is as if both the man and his enemy are somewhat confused by the orientation of the environment as well as the various mirrors in different strategic locations. He escapes from several similar situations. The alien fires at the wrong “targets” and he is able to escape each time. I am glad and feel he will get past any challenge. Most of the area seems to be of stone walls, chain-link fences, very large mirrors, and “random” rooms of various sizes. There are a few neglected gardens here and there.

Eventually, I am aware that many of his friends in similar circumstances did not survive and he is actually the only one left. I see him in some sort of rundown cafeteria or prison lunchroom area with park benches and a concrete floor, though seemingly at least the third floor and accessed by a metal, skeletal staircase. It also seems to have one fully open wall (easterly) like a sort of direct balcony area, also with a chain-link fence about halfway up. A dwarf is there and several pirate-like characters. He seems sad at having been the only one to survive. He meets new people and they run errands for him of some kind. It is a long dream, but with a lot of odd material that I did not quite get, like a complex science-fiction story.

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UPDATE: I am tagging this with “dream journal synchronicity” due to a comment left on a different site regarding this same post: “It’s really weird, but I just woke up from a similar dream about a survival based reality show apocalypse and posted it, and then i read your dream.” - blackfeather.

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Morning of January 17, 2014. Friday.



For a reason I am not at all sure of, I am seemingly at the home of a well-known YouTube hillbilly conspiracy theorist. He has claimed to be in his forties, but could easily pass for seventy-five - and his wife looked about fourteen in a few older videos. This strange scenario is some sort of rehashing of old data (old memories) for the most part, I guess, as I have not watched many of his videos on YouTube as it is, and rarely all of any of them. He apparently has thousands of followers, many for the unintended comedy, endless delusional rants, and narcissism, and I have often wondered if the character is a real persona, but then, seeing other things of late regarding people and their ideas, I suppose anything is possible no matter how bizarre.

In the dream, he only makes an actual appearance near the beginning and near the last part, where he returns home from having been out quite late at night. I guess I am babysitting his daughter all day (although it looks somewhat like his real-life wife). When he does show up, I notice that he is wearing a strange full-head helmet (and supposedly always wears it even when sleeping - although I had not noticed it in the first part of the dream, I do not think). It seemingly reminds me of a character head from Marvel’s “Creatures on the Loose” (or perhaps “Monsters on the Prowl”) but that might be a false memory. It actually looks the most like a Cylon head (from “Battlestar Galactica”) somewhat - but with a larger eye area.

I am not one hundred percent sure on why he went out or what he was doing. I think it was related to getting supplies (cartons of eggs and such) and likely ammunition, as he was loading a rifle of some sort on the couch after returning home. I get the impression that he was actually “giving” me the girl for the time he was gone as if he thought he “owned” her, but no drama ensued. Apparently, he thought I was going to treat her badly, even violently (as I imagined he had done), although I did not really go near her the whole time. I actually feel a bit wary at not being as insane as he is (even though I try to “fit in” temporarily in the scenario just to avoid any trouble from him, by acting as friendly as possible and agreeing with his strange ideas about alien invasions, what to eat and what not to eat, and such) and am wondering what he would do if he learned I had not harmed the girl at all.

The dream seems somewhat ambiguous. I seem to want to avoid him seeing me when he returns, even though I am expected to be there and I do not really see him as threatening other than being “harmlessly” deranged for the most part (unless he is armed, I suppose). His presence is very menacing on one level, but I think that is merely the effect of the weird mask/helmet (otherwise his character is physically very weak and very weak-minded). I am aware he also eats through the mask, likely having to wash it off later after mashing the food through whatever openings there are in the mask. It does not function like a gas mask, I do not think, but has something to do with being protected from alien brainwaves or invisible government weapons or some such (hard to say with him). I guess it is basically just a more advanced symbolism for a tinfoil hat as with such people.