non-lucid

Morning of December 30, 2012. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 50 sec. Readability score: 63.



In my dream, I am in an open field in an undetermined location. It seems to be late morning. At least two soldiers are present, one possibly a lieutenant. One is using binoculars at times. (I am unaware of directional orientation as is sometimes the case even with unfamiliar settings or distorted composites sometimes including it.)

A flock of birds, possibly ducks, flies overhead. There is something about “retaliation.” I am unsure if the soldiers are referring to the birds or an unseen human enemy beyond.

They have a model white plane without any detail on its surface. They send it into the flock of birds by remote control. I anticipate something dramatic will happen. One of the soldiers looks at me curiously for a short time.

The airplane seems to have gone out of sight and crash-landed in a marsh. It seems to be my task to get it. I wade through soft wet ground near a river. I grab what I think is the model aircraft.

Upon my return, the soldiers are now duck hunters. The airplane I am holding is now a duck decoy. They seem to be annoyed that I have “retrieved” it as they are still using it. I give it to them, and we do not exchange words, angry or otherwise.

---

Vestibular system correlation, which has occurred in at least one dream per sleep cycle for over fifty years (typically more, especially in the first stages of sleep), has infinite dynamics. Certain incidental elements are part of it, but outcome stems from levels of non-lucid or lucid control of anticipation of the waking process. I have documented and decoded thousands of such dreams, and the nuances are always unique (just as I have never dreamt of the same place, in the same way, more than once).

In this dream, the simulacrum of emerging consciousness is a projection as the model airplane. The remote control aspect is the reactive representation of RAS mediation, the preconscious avatar as the soldier with the binoculars.

The transition stems from the fact that this was not my last dream of the sleep cycle. In those, RAS personification is more dominant when present. The change comes by way of reinduction (water as sleep). There is the transition of “toy” airplane to “toy” duck. The duck is not alive, which means less chance of a hypnopompic trigger under these circumstances. (This is also true when I see a picture of such as a helicopter rather than a present or moving one.)

Reactive representation (autosymbolism, though not restricted to Herbert Silberer’s usage of the term as all dreams are a result of it, not only hypnagogia), has many different possibilities. Although there are not that many variations of the waking process, the nuances are seemingly infinitely unique.

---

Morning of December 20, 2012. Thursday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna at our present address, which is rendered as larger. There are railroad tracks at the side of our house where the public footpath would otherwise be. In the last scene of my dream however, the railroad tracks are no longer there.

During this time, there appear to be various rusty gears along the tracks (by passing trains that sometimes lost their parts, though no train is ever present). At one point, I consider that they may be valuable, but this is not a consistent thought. (I am not sure of how I would go about selling them.) There are also a couple street rod exhaust pipes which I do not consider are unrelated to a train and instead seem to think they are part of a locomotive.

At some points, it seems as if there may be railroad pocket watch gears mixed in with the pieces of a train. If I find all of them, I may have enough to make a watch or perhaps sell as useful parts (to the right people).

Over time, it seems that the railroad tracks had somehow disintegrated and there are patches of grass that are a lighter color and straw-like. There are also far less gears and debris. One gear looks illogically oversized.

---

Years ago, my brother-in-law Bob gave me an heirloom from his family, as he did not have a son to give it to. It was a railroad pocket watch which was likely worth quite a bit as an antique (though I never had it appraised). I had left it in my King Street apartment atop a chest of drawers, and it somehow vanished even though my door had been locked and nothing else was ever taken. I never saw it again and I never informed Bob. It is possible that a previous tenant got in.

In general, this has been a common recurring dream situation since childhood, though primarily rendering Cubitis as the setting. Usually, it is related to passing trains leaving discarded books or other “treasures” (otherwise on their way to a landfill), typically headed north. In some versions, there were virtually endless sets of railroad tracks easterly of the Cubitis backyard, with the chance to explore various items scattered over the areas but usually limited to the area around my Cubitis home’s backyard and beyond to the east, and not farther to the north or south.

---

Night of October 17, 2012. Wednesday.



This first shorter dream, which is a lengthened and distorted version of the otherwise typical natural falling mechanism as the waking transition precedes my next longer one where I am more of a direct character in my dream rather than just a passive witness as in this one.



In which I transfer the “I am falling” natural waking phase to an expanded “he is falling” scenario.

My first dream here relates to an unknown male of perhaps around thirty years of age and who firstly seems to have committed suicide by jumping off a cliff. However, there are at least three scenes in a row (seemingly not dream resets or replays), seemingly at night, where he has to try a couple more times and then I think he gives up. Instead of going around and up the path, which is logical and convenient, he climbs straight back up the side. He is wearing some sort of motorcycle uniform meant for stunts, I think, like Evel Knievel; white with a black stripe down each shoulder, and wearing some sort of odd matching helmet, though which is quite angular. I am not sure who he is. I get the impression of his being a soldier at one point in the past. The night sky is an unusual dark blue and different from how the sky would look in reality. I am not sure, but it seems that it may be Grandad Bluff in La Crosse as it does look much like it.

In which I seek to use my conscious self’s higher thinking skills in the dream state but the bookstore (conscious mind) is closed (and non-lucid). I then seek to simply watch my dream subjectively (movie theater, to watch a movie of a journey over the ocean of the unconscious; a “Titanic” sequel) but it too soon decays to become an essence of a memory (warehouse). A memory of my youth begins the waking phase, an amorphous shape from the unconscious (ocean depths), yet also sharp somehow, trying to get its point across perhaps.

Next is a fairly long dream that seems to reset at least three times. My wife and I are going to Nundah (Queensland, Australia), though at one point it seems I am the only one going there, seemingly to the bookstore. It does not make much sense, as the bookstore is not open late at night. The area is quite different and somewhat like La Crosse in America. I get the impression of wanting to get certain paperback novels, but there are strange resets to where we are then going to a movie very late at night though at one point I “remember” it is a holiday and no stores are open except maybe for the theater. The movie theater is a bit odd and does not seem to have proper seats. An unknown unfamiliar boy has brought his pet to that part of town. It is a large creature that is somewhat like a cross between a jellyfish and a porcupine yet is also blob-like at times (seemingly able to get smaller or larger by quite a significant difference) which may be based on a reaction of the environment or the emotions of people in the immediate environment. Soon, I do not feel like watching a movie anymore (and I cannot even remember what it was though I think it was some sort of sequel to “Titanic”). I end up going home and then wonder if my wife is somehow back at the theater, then I realize she never left our house in the first place. The boy and his weird pet apparently were the only ones in the building, which is not actually a movie theater after all but more like a warehouse.

Morning of October 15, 2012. Monday.



In my dream, I am lying in our bed and I am concerned about the garbage truck being too close to our house as well as being perpendicular to the street itself. At one point, it seems backed up almost to our bedroom window. The scenario repeats several times in a row. I look out and see that the robotic arm is much longer than in reality and somehow towers very high into the air (emergent consciousness rendering). It appears to be holding a larger commercial bin (which looks a lot smaller due to its supposed distance from my perspective). It is almost dizzying to consider such a high position. Nothing threatening happens (such as our house or window being damaged or the larger pieces of rubbish falling out near our house, as it almost seems might happen) but I continue to have a vague concern without being directly angry.

---

Anyone who understands the basic meanings of dreams (excluding personal associations with unique details and features which only the dreamer could possibly understand) will easily pick out the waking transition here. “Something coming down” (representing the waking process) in this case is the robotic arm of the garbage truck (robotic as a dream sign that renders the “artificial” perspective of the dream state) as well as implied falling debris. As most people would know, garbage or junk in a dream represents “unwanted data”, that is, ideas or thoughts that have proven to be without real long-term use (including other people’s negative ideas).

Even though this is a very basic waking transition, it is quite different than other types, say one that utilize an airplane landing, a meteor falling, or a bird landing, all with the same primary meaning but with different implications. This dream was likely a “repeat” (in metaphor) of reading more than my share of garbage on this date. The garbage truck itself represents the linear “cleanup” of recent thinking processes. Something being “too close” to one’s house relates to the liminal energies regarding circadian rhythms and full waking. Of course, being in bed in the dream state is the most obvious dream sign of all and the most obvious metaphor for sleeping and dreaming (yet I do not become lucid).

Morning of December 25, 2011. Sunday.



Zsuzsanna and I have a large vineyard that starts from about the middle of our backyard at our present address on W Street. The rows are oriented north to south and there are at least seven of them.

In the distance, to the east, I see the tower Big Ben. However, I erroneously associate it with being in Manhattan (even though it is in the UK in reality and I otherwise correctly perceive myself as being in Australia). There is also some sort of ambiguity where I also associate it with the Empire State Building.

More to the south, beyond where the apartments would be in real life (as our backyard is otherwise much longer to the south), are ancient ruins. I casually (without incident) explore them for a short time prior to slowly waking.

---

I associate Big Ben with puzzles, as my older sister Marilyn collected Big Ben jigsaw puzzles. (This reflects the dream self as being puzzled about the level of unconsciousness in being between dreaming and waking, though subliminally). However, a clock tower is also an emergent consciousness factor linked to a subliminal focus on what time it is getting to be while still sleeping (loosely associated with a real alarm clock that wakes a dreamer up in the morning). Big Ben appeared in a dream of December 20, 2010, so there is a loose marker here, though in that dream, I related the possibility of mortality, as it occurred on my 50th birthday.

---

Morning of February 22, 2011. Tuesday.



I am shaving in what seems to be an unusual manner relative to location and distance from the bathroom(?) mirror. (It may actually be a mirror just outside our bathroom, although our house seems unfamiliar, but is like a composite of a few houses I have lived in with some features being of our present home.) There are several short periods of contemplation - through which seem like about twenty minutes total - when my face becomes a bright, shiny silver plate all around. During these times, I have various thoughts. These thoughts include ideas about not needing to shave over smooth silver. I also have trouble focusing my eyes to shave at times, because my face is so bright, as it distorts and reflects so that I can not see where I am shaving. My entire face is of a solid, polished silver “skin” that augments any light in the area exponentially. My eyes are there, but as outlined shadows of a lesser brightness against the “mask” of my “real” (in my dream) skin.

It would seem to be a transient condition that may be related to either reflected light or mood or even the time of day. Later, I seem to be back in my old apartment and shaving there as well, but my facial skin is bleeding everywhere. Over time, I start to worry that I have lost too much blood to live, although there is not that much bleeding from particular areas during a shorter time. There are only a few extremely thick and hard hairs left along the sides of my face, reminding me of tree stumps.

Again, there are times when my face is a silver, polished plate, with shadowy outlined eyes only - no discernible nose or mouth. I am vaguely worried I may die (during times when my face is otherwise normal), but nothing dramatic happens.

A connected dream, in which my face is also sometimes the silver glowing “mask” of “real” skin, involves three new daughters. Oddly, they seem less than nine months apart, the oldest being perhaps a year and a half or two years old at the most and the youngest maybe six months old or older. I am not sure of the ages, but I still question if this closeness of ages would be possible. It is also possible that the youngest is newly born. The oldest is named Rowena. The middle one (by age) is Tillie. (The name “Tillie” might have come from a comic book character I was familiar with for a time - “Tillie the Toiler”.) I am not sure of the name of the youngest; it seems we may have not given her a name yet.

The middle one (by age and on the northernmost end - the oldest, Rowena, resting to the southern-most side of the room, the youngest in the middle) keeps trying to stand, but falls over and bumps her head several times (but is not injured in anyway, although I have concern). They are all on the floor on a large blue mat. I am sitting on a (white?) sofa on the east side of the room.

Later, I am aware of our real-life children, but their ages do not reflect the time differences of my dream relative to the “newer additions”. My youngest son had not aged the two years or so my dream would require to be consistent.

We did have another daughter later on, but the name “Rowena” was not used as planned. Instead, we used the name I was “given” in a clearer-than-usual seemingly external “pulsing” event on November 22nd, 2012. It seemed to be some sort of communication of energy from the actual unborn child (in “wanting” and “saying” the name), but also seemed “rerouted” to some extent - it also seemed to simultaneously be in my own “voice” as if in reaction to something. It was also found to have happened at the same time a younger girl with that name died from a fall in the region (with the usual life-long “clustered” associations). It was on the 22nd of the 11th month. It was a 22-storey fall. Her last name was very similar to the brand of lantern (light-giving) my family used when I was young, and part of the area’s name was “Paradise”. I also saw the name several times after in different synchronous events seeming to validate our naming decision several times over.

Morning of December 20, 2010. Monday.



I am with my lovely wife Zsuzsanna. There is anticipation of intimacy but we are first to travel elsewhere by flight. We are in a blue biplane, though it is in a hangar and I illogically do not fully consider the need to leave the hangar before flying our airplane. (This lack of reasoning of which relates to liminal space ambiguity in REM has occurred in many other dreams.)

Zsuzsanna is wearing a beautiful cyan gown. Looking closely, I see denser bird silhouettes in the otherwise lacy sparse material in a flying form in what seems to be fairly small embroidered patterns. She is on my right (an atypical orientation, as she always sleeps on my left, though that may be because she is awake at the time).

The dials in the biplane seem to be more like clocks than altimeters or other cockpit-relevant displays. It looks like one says “12:20” (in an analogue clock display, not digital), which is today’s date (and also my birthday).

To my immediate left, some sort of vertical pipe that connects the wings seems to have a leak where some water is flowing out. I try to stop the leak with a piece of what seems to be part of a pillowcase or bed sheet.

I notice one of Zsuzsanna’s shoes off to the right on the floor.

The pipe that connects the wings of the biplane on my left side seems somewhat detached and I wobble it around a bit, somewhat puzzled. I am not sure if the airplane is ready to take off and fly even though I start to hear a humming sound, though I soon wake.

---

Morning of December 20, 2010. Monday.



Feeling relaxed, as I step through green grass of about knee length (apparently being barefoot and wearing shorts as I can feel the velvety grass against my legs and feet), into an area closer to the shore of a pristine lake, I feel very peaceful. There is no one else present. It seems to be late morning or afternoon.

Eventually, evening seems to be approaching. I am not surprised (at least at first) when I turn my head to my right and see the tower Big Ben. I even consider that it may be a feature of the building I live in (though without a thread of memory of what country I live in). However, I do start to become puzzled by the nature of time and how it seemed to be afternoon only a short time ago. Still, I do not have any negative thoughts or worries. I continue to sit by the shore of the lake, feeling content.

---

My dream self does not seem aware of it being my 50th birthday. The clock tower as an emergent consciousness symbol is rendered via circadian rhythms factors (and the later stages of the sleep cycle) but additionally in this case, may also represent mortality. It is also qualified as being this dream’s waking space prompt and is additionally associated with the puzzle of being between dreaming and waking. This is because my older sister Marilyn often bought Milton Bradley Big Ben jigsaw puzzles. The lake symbolizes being in a specific stage of the sleep cycle, while the clock mainly represents the waking precursor.

---

Morning of September 29, 2010. Wednesday.



It seems I may be in La Crosse living with my wife and children but I am not sure as it may be somewhere in Australia. Seemingly to the east of a road we are walking on northward is a “giant” birdhouse. By that, I mean it is on some sort of cylindrical platform and higher up from the ground (though really only about the distance up of some of the houses I have seen here with longer stumps, implying enough room to walk underneath if there was enough open space otherwise) as well as looking much like a typical birdhouse, but a bit fancier in some areas. The doorway (and there does not seem to be a closeable door, which causes a thought about security or potential intruders) is even circular and much like that of a birdhouse and one needs to climb a seemingly unstable ladder to get up and inside it.

An unknown young girl (perhaps a relative of my wife’s) lives there though we do not see her much. I believe there is a need to visit her but we cannot quite work out how to get in. This is similar in mood and theme to another dream where we lived in a house where the front door had to be reached by climbing a narrow ladder (though this concept is sparsely recurring). I think there was something about her giving my wife jewelry or something but the details are rather odd and distorted with several “resets”.

Morning of June 6, 2010. Sunday.

Dream #: 15,875-07. Reading time: 20 sec.



I am in the lounge room of our present home in the evening. I am aware a stranger is in our house and had been in our kitchen and opened our refrigerator. When I am in bed, I notice Mr. Bean (Rowan Atkinson) had fallen asleep on our couch, holding a teddy bear. I am annoyed by the imposition. (The couch is in the wrong orientation. It faces south instead of north.) I consider it may be someone pretending to be Mr. Bean (though I remain uncertain).

---

Morning of December 25, 2009. Friday.



I am in the backyard of our present address. Although there is not that much of a focus on this morning being Christmas (especially as my dream self is only rarely aware of what year it is, let alone the date), I see Christmas ornaments protruding about a quarter up from where there is only dirt in the far backyard. Most of them are spherical and of one color, though I find more detailed ones when I dig more. I consider that it is an unusual place to store ornaments as such, as they will require cleaning each year.

Eventually, I also start to discover and uncover a few gold and silver coins as I dig (though remaining uncertain of the value or country of origin), some of which have a few holes in them, as if eroded. At this point, there is ambiguity. It now seems I am digging in dirt beneath the floorboards of our lounge room (though this occurs ambiguously, while I still perceive myself as being outside). (In reality however, this would not be possible, as our house is suspended above the ground on stumps.)

---

Morning of November 21, 2009. Saturday.

Dream #: 15,678-02. Reading time (optimized): 30 sec.



I am near an apartment building, possibly an American condominium yet it is south of us on Barolin Street in Australia. The entrance to one man’s apartment on the ground floor is near the back. There is a cascade of flowers (falling from “nowhere”) that comes down a few feet from that door near one corner of the building. It seems to indicate a haunting, though there is no fear, only a sense of eeriness as well as an unearthly beauty. I believe it may relate to the death of a younger unknown female, perhaps a teenager who was possibly killed by someone in the apartment building. There is an anticipation of a pending investigation. The flowers may be small violets (with separate petals falling at times).

---

Morning of November 9, 2009. Monday.



In this dream, I discover (as in a lot of similar dreams that continue to both haunt and annoy me as if another part of me had a will of its own yet not viable for my chosen life’s path) I learn that the “other” (the childhood friend, Susan R, I “left” for a different path - not regret, but a very slight guilt, I suppose; strange, as many people have nothing residual over such events or so it seems) is living in an area where I can visit her (not quite sure which country, either USA or Australia). There is one part where my wife (aka childhood Romani tulpa turns out to be real) and I are together on the couch and involved in sensual acts. I notice the “other” (who for some unexplainable reason is just sitting in a lounge chair near us in the same room) is wearing a plain cross (not a crucifix), which hangs down near my face, but nothing else is visible in that periphery. This could probably be related to the fact that she was - or seemed to be - a serious Christian (a main reason why I could not have seen myself living with her when older), or yet another flashback to that Mad magazine poster “The Modern Crucifixion” and the associated “other” events related to that time period.

(It was only later, I realized the connections of my favorite band “The Fixx” and the logo in mirror image looking a bit like XXII, or 22, the “master number” that has a huge connection to many different things in the human supraconscious and continuously repeating around unexplainable events - there is even a group of people that follow this belief).

The outcome of my dream is that the “other” eventually appears in a very unusual manner, not quite human-looking in the face. She looks very old, yet also very young, and a Newton’s cradle ball is stuck in (or growing out of) each ear - halfway out at the hemispheres - and around the ears are deep cracks as if from drying clay - the sides of her head being somewhat skeletal as well. This surreal imagery does not seem at all unusual to me until I am awake and then I wonder how in the world my mind came up with something like that and why I did not think it to be unusual in my dream. However, Newton’s cradle could easily be some sort of dream imagery to represent unseen forces or unseen repercussions from “another side”, and the “other” and I did use the device (and gaze at it) when young.

Morning of October 17, 2009. Saturday.



In my less clear (and less aware) dream state, it occurs to me that zebras have English writing all over their bodies as a “normal” and natural type of pattern. Each stripe represents the form of a letter (and apparently punctuation in some cases), though elongated. Typically, the “messages” are positive but some are sarcastic. This (the “sarcastic message”) seems to relate to spending too much time looking at a particular zebra within a larger herd (or “zeal”, an unusual term for a herd of zebras).

There is an association with an older dream where zebras are said to be fictional animals that certain people (of certain mentalities) do not believe in. Apparently, via the dream’s flawed “logic”, only people who are said to be delusional view a white horse and a black horse through a fence somehow and mistake the two animals for one (that is, as a zebra - again supposedly a fictional or mythological animal in this scenario). At the time, this seemed to be a sarcastic statement relating to the disbelief of the existence of zebras (in my dream only), which seemingly related to denial of the unknown or unexplainable in thinking something can only be black or white or that everything is easily labelled or explainable - that is, either this or that.

Mostly, this was influenced by an educational worksheet called “Zebras with Zero Stripes in a Zigzag Cage”, where the young student fills in a list of words to make the “stripes”.

Night of July 9, 2009. Thursday.



Characters from the television series “24” appear in this dream as a main basis of the plot (other than the main character, curiously enough). I am not even “in” my dream; I am just watching it as if it were a series of “real” events in the United States via some sort of implied remote-viewing rather than being associated with a television show at any point. There is no emotion expressed from my own perspective, although a female reporter seems upset and concerned (and seemingly bewildered by the decisions and actions of the leaders).

For some reason, Ethan Kanin (Bob Gunton) is the “new” president, while the president from the actual show (Cherry Jones) seems to be either vice president or just an adviser or even only a reporter at one point(?). This character rendering lacks cohesion in my dream.

At any rate, he seems annoyed at the present state of affairs regarding other nations (and diplomacy has apparently failed in every way). He gives “the” final order, which is “Raise the right horn!” The lady (Cherry) looks concerned and asks someone else what it could mean. It is too late. The whole sky grows dark and it is seemingly the end of the United States as Cherry “looks out the window” which is actually just a wall without a window(?) or transparent at one point(?) and there is a rumbling and hissing. For some reason, what he said meant that other “enemy” countries would immediately launch missiles at the USA, which really makes no sense at all. I suppose it could have meant that it was the United States which had attacked all of the other countries first, but the events unfold too fast for that to have been the case.

Original notes (July 2009): I am not sure of the meaning in this one. Perhaps “horn” relates to the trumpet blown by the angel in the so-called Last Days, or maybe it relates to right-wing politics. Hard to say, presently. It may even relate to the “devil’s” horn gaining power, yet it is “right”, not “wrong” (or “left”?), although the exact meaning is not clear.

Added (present) notes of November 2013. Several years after this dream, there is coincidentally one Google match on fark.com, but not exact (it being “Raise the right horn of you. Oh wait you only have the one horn!” apparently in reference to joking with the unicorn persona of another forum member). A “horn” could also be a telephone or associated with a particular telephone call within the White House of which I am quite surprised that I had not included in my original notes.