non-lucid

Morning of January 1, 1997. Wednesday.



House Full of Spiderwebs

I am in the Loomis Street house, possibly implied to still be living here. My sister Marilyn (half-sister on my mother’s side) is present at times. There are spiderwebs everywhere. (I have dreamt a number of versions of this situation throughout my life. In this dream there is less of a focus on spiders than is usually the case. There is minor frustration at difficulty in moving from one room to another. My dream’s essence is not threatening or nightmarish in any way.)

---

Fish Recycling?

A recycling symbol is rendered as a triangular image of trout or salmon. Its meaning is not fully clear.

---

Miniature staircase of gold coins

I am arranging gold coins while sitting at a table in an unknown location. They form an implied miniature staircase. (Both gold coins and going up a staircase have occurred as dream state exit markers in previous dreams back to early childhood. A staircase typically symbolizes the inevitable return to consciousness as well as the implied exit point of the dream state. It is used the same way in guided meditation and hypnosis.)

---

Morning of December 21, 1996. Saturday.



This was a long dream but with not many clear events. The location is ambiguous and somewhat of a fifty-fifty rendered composite of our Gellibrand Street apartment (in Clayfield - Australia) and my sister’s house on Loomis Street in the USA.

A fire starts in the house across the street, which seems to be some sort of “poetic justice” in-dream and not a personal concern. Eventually, it is discovered that firefighters are using our water supply to put out the fire. I notice this when I close the front windows and two fire hoses are then blocked. In a short time, I am ordered to reopen them by a few authorities that come onto our porch.

Instead, I turn off a cassette player that is playing a cassette tape of my personal affirmations that my brother Jim is listening to at a loud volume and otherwise ignore their request.

---

Morning of September 26, 1996. Thursday.



My dream was very vivid and colored my mood for my day in a very positive way.

---

DeForest Kelley, as the actor, not his “Star Trek” character (though which does have autosymbolic implications in the final scene) has a (fictional) daughter probably in her late teens. She is apparently in some sort of televised variety show but gets hurt in a hang glider crash (while undressed) shortly after the show starts. Three Caucasian doctors (young males) come to her aid but they act strangely and rudely to everyone. It seems she may have died in the crash (though this is uncertain).

DeForest Kelley soon appears and talks to me. I find myself in Native American traditional dress. I sing loudly, though harmoniously, and shake rattles with others, three males and one very old female. I direct a strong effort and focus on my chanting. The girl who had eventually been thought to be dead is somehow healed.

I attain somewhat of a faux lucidity here; that is, a very strong feeling of power and control (as well as unity) though I remain non-lucid. (There is no RAS modulation in the final scene, even with the preconscious personified.)

---

Morning of July 27, 1996. Saturday.



In my dream, I own some sort of large unusual aquarium (similar to the one my brother had in real life in La Crosse at one time). My mother and oldest sister Marilyn are present in addition to my wife Zsuzsanna. After a time, an unexplainable event occurs. There is some sort of miniature “storm” or whirlpool-like event in the aquarium that is apparently being caused by some sort of unknown event occurring elsewhere (and from where, is unknown).

There is one fish in the aquarium (I am uncertain of the species) and this fish swims at an angle as far away from the turbulent water as possible. The fish remains uninjured and apparently safe thus far.

After time passes, though, the aquarium falls apart and all the water flows out (waking point). There are no longer any fish, but there are now two multicolored birds that seem to be male and female. They are either lorikeets or resplendent quetzals (or a composite of both). (My present guess in March 2015 is that they were quetzals, or composite of quetzal and hummingbird, as this is a recurring dream element for me).

The more dreams I review over a lifetime, the more the decoding comes out. Assuming these two birds were quetzals (though the entry image is of lorikeets), they would simply represent my wife and I as “ascended” on at least one in-dream level (looking back on my dream from “Soul’s Union of the Quetzal and the Silver Sebright Bantam” from March 30, 1986, where I have enhanced the imagery from that entry to be nearly identical to my dream).

That March 30th Easter dream always seemed like a metaphorical ascension type, and if such is the case, this dream probably relates the solitary fish as an isolated aspect of myself deliberately avoiding the union (or Merkaba) for whatever reason (likely as the fish is on its own), and that this July 27th dream touches this period to where we now have the birds to represent us at one level. It seems fairly straightforward and obvious at this point (August 9, 2015).

Afternoon of April 4, 1996. Thursday.



This turned out to be an odd combination of the otherwise very common “return flight” type, subtype “failed flight”, for the waking transition (though both bird and airplane symbols are integrated in this one). It also uses the bomb metaphor as the waking trigger (which is sometimes linked to a hypnopompic event though not in this case). Bombs sometimes are triggered by or linked to a real noise in the environment (even a barely audible sound depending on the state of consciousness at the time), though that is not always the case.

---

I am watching Baby Huey (the cartoon ducking) in an unusual movie (which I assume is fictional). Airplanes are bombing the area but only to get to him for whatever reason. (It seems he may be considered a threat by the military.) Sometimes I actually seem to be present but there is no direct threat to me.

Baby Huey, in the last part of the last segment, hardly notices an atomic bomb (a common dream cessation symbol) that is dropped in the area. It seems a bit strange that everyone else in one region is apparently wiped out yet this annoying cartoon duckling remains, randomly walking around, mostly oblivious to the chaos around him.

---

There are a couple layers here that add to the overall meaning. Huey is technically a flight symbol (though cannot actually fly, so represents the band of liminal space closest to full consciousness - additionally as such since him being a cartoon represents the dissolving dream state or its instability) though is also a play on the UH-1 Huey Helicopter, which is where the notion of war and bombs comes from. This is an odd middle-ground of different flight symbol types in conflict, as if I am subliminally trying to decide whether to keep sleeping or to wake up. The baby association may also be partially influenced by our son. Huey is yellow so may also relate to dawning consciousness (as the sunrise symbol) during the transition.

---

Morning of February 6, 1996. Tuesday.

I am riding in a car in an unknown location with my brother-in-law Bob as the driver. At one point, we stop near the ocean for some reason (even though he lived in Wisconsin in reality). A police officer soon approaches us and asks Bob some routine questions though does not regard me at all.

In a short time, Bob is being frisked by the police officer. Another official (though not dressed as a policeman) then seems to be there from out of nowhere. There does not seem to be any reason for their rude behavior or suspicion. I wake in a short time.

---

This dream was relevant to water induction (the ocean, which represents sleep) but was soon disturbed by the waking precursor in which the (often solely biological) purpose is to cause an emotional shift to pull me out of the dream state. I had not seen Bob in real life since February 9th of 1994. So, loosely, there is possibly a date-related marker, assuming it is not a “what if” marker of a sort.

Morning of December 31, 1995. Sunday.



My dream’s plot relates to an old widow (who is seen as stingy and nasty overall, and who had a son whom supposedly vanished) who rents a large house to about four different families as well as a couple single men, all who are apparently mostly without many resources or money. Two of the families seem to share one larger room. The house is old and has roach infestation and very old variegated carpeting (reds, blues, greens); in some locations, only older very narrow strips nailed to the floor, not much wider than the nails. At one point, the old lady speaks of having new carpeting put in. I seem to go in and out of my dream as if I am a secondary character at times.

One male from one family gives me a calendar (I assume for 1996) but as we seemingly share the same large room at this point I tell him to just put it on the wall so that we all can benefit from it. During this time, I take a couple pictures from the wall to make room. I had put many pictures up on the worn wall to make it look better as others seemed interested.

There is one part where a housing inspector complains (relative to safety concerns) that there are hidden doors in the house and asks where they all are. One door is under an old section of carpet. The door is lifted and leads to a collection of old cards and letters from the 1940s (1943 is noted a few times). This causes the old woman to cry as she apparently rediscovers and relives “lost” memories. Another door is discovered and examined. A monster-like face scares one person away. Eventually, a strange green hand emerges and scares more people.

At one point, a boy explores a lower part of the house that is usually hidden. Somehow, he accidentally causes a fire around barrels filled with oil or possibly gasoline. The fire is put out by the flapping of very large wings. The wings are of a creature that frightens the boy even though he poses no threat and is possibly just lonely and looking for others like himself.

It is revealed that the old woman had a son that had not actually vanished but transformed into a “monster” that is basically a “butterfly-man”. She had kept him in the old house all that time in secret rooms. At one point, he seems to fly off towards the setting sun in a scene with mostly orange hues. However, this turns out to be an illusion as he cannot leave the house (yet).

There is a part where there is a costume party. A boy seems to see his sister (in a dog costume) vanish before his eyes but she later reappears without donning a costume, saying she had not worn the dog costume that she originally planned to. Thus, the prior scene turned out to be a trick played upon him by a friend. Of course, the butterfly-man can go to a costume party without being noticed that directly.

There is another part where a unfamiliar man (yet supposedly a known criminal) is writing spontaneously (possessed?) in a language he does not know. It resembles Lao script (which in itself makes me think of butterfly-like patterns) and there happens to be a few who can read it as he writes. It relates to some sort of “monster” or “spirit” being reborn into the world in vengeance.

There are then a lot of ambiguous scenarios relating to crimes including the man who was writing as well as the “butterfly-man-monster” who somehow actually did eventually leave the house. Someone else somehow makes him become fully human, but then he becomes a giant and destroys highways and bridges. There is even a chase scene involving boats. One boat at one point actually looks more like a pair of platforms to supposedly be a swimming aid of a sort (to develop “faster swimming”).

Even when the criminals are killed, they are still somehow able to pursue certain people.

I start to wake up from this long, convoluted dream before the full “story” is “transcribed”, supposedly to designate a purpose of some sort but mostly incoherent in afterthought. Most dreams are not really linear or story-like (in a cohesive sense) after all and should not be treated as such (depending on the context).

Morning of June 11, 1995. Sunday.



For some unclear reason (or perhaps just to enjoy myself - though I am not lucid), I am going into a rainforest in an unknown region of Australia. My brother-in-law Bob (who has never been to Australia) is there, but the bridge collapses before he gets across to the start of the densest rainforest. Since I am already on the other side and cannot get back across after that, I just “absentmindedly” continue in the direction I had been going. Later on, I am “adopted” by a more-traditional tribe of Australian Aboriginal people who had apparently not had much contact with other cultures. At one point, some of them are seemingly killed by an (I assume) unexpected invasion of a type of large (not giant) bee.

For some reason we eventually travel to a futuristic city and the buildings are alarmingly high, with many areas of disconcerting semidarkness in walking amidst the buildings at ground level. There are impersonal computerized features everywhere (reminding me a bit of my stay in Japan but more-so the movie “Blade Runner”). Somehow, we have entered the year 2049 (which for some reason is not the first time this year featured in one of my dreams, though not that often and seemingly not as more consistently significant). I carry a strong concern about getting back to my wife and son from that point and develop a growing sadness of my absence from their lives (fictional - I was never “absent” from them at any point in reality). At one point, I look in a telephone book and see my last name, and see what may be the name of a grandson (presumed) though I do not recall the other names, which seem like Native American ceremonial names. Eventually, problematic authorities appear and do not believe who I am when I talk about getting back to “my time” and back to my wife and son.

Somehow, we all elude the authorities who are growing suspicious of our presence and end up going back into the rainforest earlier than when we left by which the bridge had not collapsed yet (though, in contrast to a potential paradox, we do not meet our previous selves at any point). I am grateful that I will be able to cross back and get to my wife and son.

Morning of May 29, 1995. Monday.



This is a long dream of a factory that is mostly under the ocean but partly above it in some areas (and thus would be autosymbolism for the sleep cycle and the essence of different areas of consciousness in REM sleep). I go there in a boat after exploring a different building near the ocean. At one point, a shark keeps coming up through the bottom of my boat and roaring like a lion. This “shark” eventually becomes, or somehow always was, only printed on a small thin piece of cardboard. The bottom of my boat seems to be very thin cellophane-like plastic that allows you to see the motions of the water. (This is not the first time that a three-dimensional RAS modulation precursor was transformed into a two-dimension presence, thus a result of my dream self non-lucidly modulating the waking autosymbolism. It always happens in a liminal space buffer - “from under the boat” and in another dream “in the doorway”.)

Later, an unknown female near the factory is eaten by a “real” shark. There are female dancers on a high platform and a staircase that goes down several levels (implying a desired return to deeper sleep). The factory is later threatened by the intrusion of a giant alligator and a plesiosaurus and everyone in the factory goes down to the lower levels rather than evacuating the factory itself. (In other words, hiding from the waking mechanism of which in this case implies coalescence and consciousness unification, though in maintaining an unwillingness to wake yet, in a negative context).

This potential waking trigger does not cease (which of course is a good thing, as one cannot sleep forever). As a lion, a shark, and an alligator are all basically the same factor for this dream type, it is typical multiplicity here. Even the plesiosaurus represents the coalescence precursor here (as it has been in other dreams) though is often a lucidity trigger (as the long neck implies being above the essence of the dream state in the manner of being able to mediate it).

There is a large gun that is robotically linked to a duplicate one on a higher level. When one correctly aims at a projection of any creature above and shoots, the other gun automatically shoots the “real” creatures above on the surface. When I use the weapon, I get both monsters the first time. (This scene obviously represents non-lucid RAS modulation, that is - my dream self non-lucidly utilizing the essence of my conscious will without being directly lucid.)

The factory apparently produces a lot of different things made solely from sea salt and perhaps features of the sea bottom. I look around, as I finally allow my dream to fade under my (liminal) terms. (Even though I took control of my dream on one level by avoiding the waking precursors, which were violent coalescence metaphors, I still did not attain full lucidity.)

---

Morning of May 14, 1995. Sunday.



I seem to be the director of an unusual comedy-drama-science-fiction movie. Prior to the movie-like sections of my dream is a long section about getting friends together and equipment set up. There is no fear at any point and although at times I seem to “direct” my “movie” or dream by mental will, I am not actually lucid at any point.

The first part of the “movie” is about another world that is like a swamp where a tribe of seemingly African people live. This is connected with yet another world where blue-skinned people live in wealth near a beach. Some of these people have half the side of their body a darker blue. It seems that the people of each world sometimes bring gifts to each other that have religious or social-status-related implications.

An unknown female from the African tribe somehow enters this world (“my” world where the filming is taking place). A giant alligator also somehow comes through and causes a lot of problems. I get to a roof with several other people but certain other people climb a tree instead, which is pulled down by the alligator, and as a consequence the people are eaten.

Later, there are both comedic and sensual scenes, including a restaurant where people make love in public on tables but with mosquito nets over them. Supposed comedy involves police attempting to track down the alligator by reading different outdated files rather than where they are actually seeing it.

Later, there is an oversized man-eating train to have concerns about. It still only travels over some of the normal-sized railroad tracks. This seems to happen after the alligator gets hit by a train and there is an explosion that somehow combines the alligator and train into one living creature. It has a ribbed appearance and looks like an H.R. Giger design.

Eventually, the train has “babies” that are much smaller than real trains; about one-quarter the size. One person kills one and notices that it looks edible. It seems to have a marshmallow texture and banana flavor as I join the hunting party.

---

This dream is quite similar in some ways to another dream; “Alligator Train?” of 1989, which was before my first contact with Zsuzsanna and my move to Australia in 1994. There was a shorter “prototype” of certain aspects of this dream (including a sort of “origin story” involving an African priest) on May 12th (1995). I find it curious that H.R. Giger died on May 12th, 2014.

Morning of December 1, 1990. Saturday.



In real life, I had been sleeping on the couch in the Loomis Street living room. My black vinyl-covered winter gloves with cloth cuffs were on the coffee table to my left. I was sleeping on my left side (facing north). The sun was already up and daylight was coming through the window on my right as well as the east window.

In my vivid dream, which came after I had been awake for a short time and fallen asleep again, I was watching a battle scene with army tanks and running soldiers. There is some sort of distortion where the battle scene seems to become miniaturized and occurring on the coffee table. I woke from this very clear dream imagery to be somewhat disoriented by still seeing the moving tank treads. There was a very light dizziness and an atypically sustained waking transition.

I had been gazing, open-eyed, before fully awake, at the open end of one of my winter gloves. The effect was a flawless transformation of what I had thought I was watching in my dream. The black cuff of my glove, the open cuff directly facing me, was still moving like a tank tread, and it took several seconds before the hypnopompic illusion faded.

I found this waking illusion fascinating. Apparently, my reticular activating system was slower than usual this time (and I was colder as well), as I do not usually have sustained hypnopompic hallucinations (which are always caused by incorrectly perceiving a feature in my environment with open eyes yet while still sleeping and dreaming). (When I have watched vivid hypnagogia for typically an hour or more during the first part of every sleeping period since early childhood, it is never integrated into any real aspect of my environment and I always know what it is, using it to deliberately “step into” a dream setting of my choice. The first hour of hypnagogia is usually fully lucid whereas hypnopompia is not and rarely lasts more than a few seconds, with only some exceptions, such as this one, in my lifetime.)

---

Night of October 27, 1990. Saturday.



I am on the north-side of La Crosse, walking along, I believe, Avon Street, although I go down different streets over time, mostly northbound. Over time, as I am walking at a slow, enjoyable pace, I notice that there is a giant boombox (most with a built-in giant cassette player - implying the usage of a giant cassette) near certain houses, quite a few, in fact, many of interesting different styles, but mostly silver and black with red and green lights in sparse areas on the surface - sometimes with a large bluish window representing the realistically rendered (dream-wise) radio bandwidth display. However, no music is coming out of any of the speakers, although at times there is a barely audible chiming sound. They are about a foot or two taller than I am in most cases. It seems to be very mystical at one level, yet almost reminds me of a potential “vehicle” of sorts to fly in (but only vaguely). The detail of these large objects is quite vivid. I do notice moving lights on some of them at times, creating a sense of mystery. In total (geometrical) volume, they probably match that of a pickup truck or van.

For some reason, this weird scene does not instigate a response of questioning the unusual nature of it. It seems fairly late at night (but with an implied full moon) and there are no other people around anywhere, not even any cars being driven around. The boomboxes are always on the front lawn of a person’s home, but just a foot or so off from the sidewalk and perpendicular to the sidewalk in most cases.

Eventually, I come to the more commercial intersection at Gillette Street, and am across from the IGA store. The two-storey house nearest the gas station across from the IGA store is hit by a flying saucer (which comes down at a forty-five degree angle from the west) with the word “aliens” in all uppercase glowing white letters along the side (there is a slight uneasiness about it being near the gas station but nothing happens in that regard). I do not even question the ridiculous nature of why a supposedly alien spacecraft would have the English word “aliens” on its side. All the lights in the house are suddenly on and a large number of small red aliens with their hands up (half the height of an adult person) rush around, out of the house and back in several times, but they do not leave the lot/property or pose a threat of any kind. It strongly reminds me of what ants do when their nest is disturbed or perhaps a Keystone Kops film. Therefore, there is a slight ambiguity here. I am not sure if the aliens came from the flying saucer that had just crashed, or if the ship had been piloted by a different race of aliens and disturbed the “Martians” when it crashed into “their” house.

Mostly, it seems obvious that these aliens came from the saucer immediately after it crashed, although I am not sure if it was by accident or intent. It is hard to say. I rarely dream of aliens in any serious or realistic sense and even when my dream is somewhat realistic in some ways, the aliens are usually in hiding from humans.

Morning of November 10, 1990. Saturday.



This particular prophetic dream revealed the actual uncommon surname of my soulmate (twin flame) and wife-to-be, who first contacted me in March of 1991; about four months after this dream. That surname was Horvath. On the television series “One Day at a Time” (1975–1984), Mackenzie Phillips played the character Julie Cooper Horvath. I was not a fan of hers (and did not find her attractive), and this is my only clearer dream about her as far as I know. The tennis court in this particular case is likely related to a play on “love” as well as courtship and marriage. We were the only characters in my dream and seemingly isolated.

In my dream, I had been playing a tennis match with Mackenzie Phillips. I am not sure of the location. It could be Florida, Wisconsin, or even California (or some sort of implied composite). I am eventually wandering through the tennis court somewhat randomly after something apparently interrupts our tennis game (such as a bottle or a rock being thrown onto the court, I think, though I am not directly aware of any other people at any point). I soon notice that she is gone or had disrespectfully (in the opinion of my dream-self) wandered off but we still have a game to finish. I spend the rest of my dream going around screaming her first name over and over, getting louder and louder, walking in a kind of zigzag pattern “MaKEEEEEHnzie! MaKEEEEEHnzie!” (possibly also a play on “I can’t see”?). I feel tense, irritated, and even abandoned. It almost seems like we are married and she had deserted me. Everything starts to turn into a mist. I get the impression that all of the other people disappeared (even though Mackenzie was the only other person I was aware of). All of the world is fading, very slowly and frustratingly (not a typical way to wake from a dream). I awake with a mild headache, seemingly having slept too long.

Morning of November 6, 1990. Tuesday.



In my dream, I apparently have a pet tiger of which I am first vaguely wary of (though not fearful). I am walking north along George street on the west side of the street in La Crosse, Wisconsin. I notice that I am walking with a tiger on my left. It seems like a long journey at first, though I do not leave the sidewalk along George Street until I get to the IGA store. At times, I am absentmindedly holding onto the tiger’s tail. (It also seems like a couple unknown people are with me at times, but I am not focused on them.)

Over time, as I am walking, the tiger seems less and less potentially threatening to people in general until I see him as a faithful companion. We end up near the entrance of the IGA store.

On one level, this is a subliminal repeat of a scenario associated with “Calvin and Hobbes”, a comic strip that featured a young boy and Hobbes, his “pet tiger” that was actually a stuffed animal. The comic strip I read prior to my dream featured the following exchange: Calvin: “Another gorgeous brisk fall day.” and (next panel) “What a waste to be going to school on a morning like this.” - Hobbes: “What would you do if you could stay home this morning?” - Calvin: “Sleep right through it.”

“What would you do if you could stay home this morning?” asks the tiger as we are walking in my dream. (I had forgotten “sleep right through it” as the potential lucidity trigger.) “Huh?” I think, as tigers cannot talk. However, as the scene seems to change, I see that the “tiger” is actually now Charles Bronson (with no sign of a costume anywhere), sitting with me near the entrance of the IGA store, with his legs out and vaguely reminiscent of a ventriloquist dummy. I do not contemplate the impossible transformation from tiger to man. I am sitting to his right. We are both facing the parking lot as other people come and go. He is saying more to me, though I do not focus on what he is saying. I start to think that Charles Bronson was not a tiger (even though the preconscious had been rendered as the tiger as such), but a large domestic tiger cat, by which I say without emotion, “wow, you’re the biggest cat I ever saw”, which makes me feel vaguely foolish as he is no longer either a tiger or a domestic cat. He does not seem to notice my mild embarrassment and still seems somewhat catlike, though mostly only with catlike whiskers.

Around this time in real life, but before I met her, my wife Zsuzsanna had gotten a tiger cat she named “Mr. Bronson” (though she tells me she is uncertain of why she used the name). She wrote in her journal (before we were ever in contact) under his picture: “Mr. Bronson, the biggest cat I ever saw”. This is shown in the scanned image of her journal and is legitimate evidence of inexplicable events based on communication at other levels that most people are incapable of accepting or understanding.

---

There are additional influences and threads that partially resulted in non-lucid dream control. This includes:

Two songs my father performed in public venues, “I’ve Got a Tiger by the Tail” (a popular Buck Owens song from 1965) and “Tiger Rag” (“Hold that Tiger”).

Two tiger-themed advertisements, the “put a tiger in your tank” advertisement from Esso, and Tony the Tiger yelling “they’re great!” about Kellogg’s Cornflakes. (Charles Bronson had a son named Tony and a daughter named Suzanne.)

Exactly one year before my wife Zsuzsanna was born on September 13, 1968, one of the only episodes of “The Virginian” that I watched all the way through was aired. It was titled “The Reckoning” and featured Charles Bronson.

---

Other factors of this dream, I have explained many times in past entries. This includes the parking lot as a common form of autosymbolism for a specific level of consciousness during the waking transition as a result of subliminal association with the physical body being inactive while asleep. The outcome of this dream is that the reticular activating system modulation factor (the tiger) transforms into the emergent consciousness factor (Charles Bronson) because of both non-lucid dream control and inexplicable communication with Zsuzsanna (my soulmate) before we met in real life. Note the similar template to many other dreams, including “Changing the Lion of Coalescence into my Wife Zsuzsanna” from December 3, 2016, where instead of a tiger becoming Charles Bronson, a lion becomes Zsuzsanna.

---

Morning of September 23, 1990. Sunday.



I have an oscilloscope in my dream (though I have never owned or used one in real life). At one point, it seems to be more like a radio. The setting seems to be a larger variation of the Cubitis kitchenette but with the layout of the house mirrored east to west.

---