Non-Lucid Dreams
Morning of November 18, 2018. Sunday. Dream #: 18,962-02. Reading time: 2 min 42 sec. Readability score: 53. One would think that after over fifty years, the same dreaming and waking processes in the same order and with the same foundational autosymbolism would trigger more viable threads of conscious self identity and recognition beyond subliminal RAS mediation than what occurs at certain stages of the sleep cycle. In this particular case though, my subliminal recognition of the dream state resulted in me resetting it, as had often happened before. My dream was mainly from the influence of a movie, “What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?” (1969), that Zsuzsanna and I watched last night, despite it being of the typical transition through the nexus, which in this case, is a supposedly hidden room rather than, for example, a porch. The focus revolves around someone I had supposedly killed, a younger male, possibly accidentally. (The backstory, again based on the movie, is unclear). The urban location is unfamiliar and unknown. The person’s remains are under a commercial business building near a corner. I had somehow done this even though I was not involved in the construction of the building. The Sleeper (the “dead” person) transmutes into a cheerful emerging consciousness simulacrum in the last scene before the offset dream, without my dream self finding it unusual. There are many typical scenes of evading the authorities, one of them (the preconscious simulacrum) in particular. The emerging consciousness travels with me after someone finds their remains. The building is already being taken down during this time. (In the movie, the remains were under pine trees.) He (the activated Sleeper aka previously “killed” character) helps me find a secret panel in the wall of a nearby building, in a hall. I first try to phase into the wall (as with many past dreams in subliminal, liminal, and lucid manipulation of the dream state). Instead, a panel opens, and we step into a supposedly hidden area. I reason that going deeper into the area will result in us being less likely to be found as well as being farther from the entrance point (the same “logic” as in hundreds of previous dreams of the same type). (This scenario, naturally becoming the most vivid segment of my dream, replaces the typical porch-as-nexus event, in correlation with enigmatic space as the association between dreaming and waking. It includes “puzzles,” associations with detectives, ambiguity relating to where my real physical body is, and so on. Of course, it is not possible to “hide” from the natural preconscious transition.) However, upon walking into another area, the avatar tells me that “this is his office,” meaning the office of the police sergeant that had been after me. I notice how it looks like an ordinary office and is not hidden from public access on one side, finding it annoying that there is not much prospect for a genuinely hidden room. The police sergeant eventually comes in. I reset my dream, and it becomes a scenario where the police sergeant is the one responsible for the “death.” He is supposedly a vampire, which I tell a few people - and I have film footage to prove it. I then liminally reset my dream into an offset scenario of the typical vestibular system correlation process. I am helping someone, though only at times, who is in a wheelchair, as we descend an unlikely staircase built of various big stones in an outdoor rural area adjacent to a mountain. (In other cases, I am consciously aware of using this process to sustain or vivify a dream.) We have a little trouble, but we cheerfully descend several steps without incident, even though some of them are two to three feet high. He seems to find it amusing and mostly maneuvers his wheelchair on his own. There is no preconscious simulacrum at this point, only the emerging consciousness (as the otherwise typical vestibular system avatar) in the wheelchair. (This stems from both “What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?” and the new “The Flash” television series, where characters are in wheelchairs without needing to be as a part of their “disguise.”)
Morning of November 2, 2018. Friday. Dream #: 18,946-03. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. Readability score: 68. In my dream, I am in the living room of the King Street mansion (which served as a boarding house). I am focused upon the cuckoo clock on the south wall (erroneous location). It seems to be late morning. The owners are presently out, possibly on vacation. I want to get to my apartment (in this case the middle room of the east side of the mansion on the second floor), but there is no door. I am using the cuckoo clock as a replica of the house, where it is somewhat like a virtual Chinese puzzle box. I must turn certain sections of the clock to correlate with the real doors of the house. There are also sections that move in and out like slots. I consider that I may not still be living here (on a rental basis) and that I want to be in my bedroom before the owners return. I maintain a cheerful attitude even though the entry points of the clock do not perfectly match that of the house itself. My dream had the typical dream state components: The cuckoo clock (association with flight and the vestibular system correlation of the waking process). The clock theme itself (ultradian and circadian rhythm of the sleep cycle). The puzzle, and solving it (nature of enigmatic space, where the dream self identity and the conscious self identity are still separate). Getting to a bedroom (literal bed space strand and subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, becoming liminal prior to waking).
Morning of November 5, 2018. Monday. Dream #: 18,949-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 38. In my dream, I am in an unknown location, though it is likely implied to be America as Dennis (half-brother on my mother’s side) is present. He appears as he was in the 1970s. There is an unfamiliar dream state denizen with me (male, about twenty years old) when Dennis starts talking about taking us on a ride on his motorcycle and even giving us our own motorcycles. I am not interested and he becomes very angry, telling me what a great motorcycle he is giving me. There is a long argument of the typical preconscious content (though I am not lucid). He eventually leaves. There is the typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity, where I look upon a highway that also somehow seems to be inside an unknown building. Dennis has transformed into a foot-long piece of yellow police tape (and my dream self does not consider this unusual). “He” is lying near the middle of the highway. I consider that cars may run over him as he is blown about, but I do not feel any concern. Conflict in my dreams (subliminal, liminal, and lucid modes) is typically a result of biologically induced reticular formation simulacra and my dream self’s willingness to correlate with the RAS factor of the waking process, and in lucidity, I am actually aware of this factor (thus there can be no doubt, as real lucidity brings about this knowledge - and an experienced lucid dreamer would know that “interpretation” in the popular sense is a misconception). A vehicle typically represents (projected or inherited) correlation of induction (beginning of sleep cycle) or waking (end of sleep cycle) physicality by way of vestibular system dynamics, even before full consciousness is achieved. (The preconscious is active in the waking process before the conscious self identity is, which is probably why many people do not remember their dreams.) I have not seen Dennis in real life since 1994 and our minimal Facebook contact has remained cheerful. The yellow police tape comes from two factors, the nexus between dreaming and waking (fuzziness about the conscious self identity when sleeping, and the reticular formation by way of the preconscious as authority over the dream self) as a liminal space divider, and a literal association with the Halloween tape we had on our fence recently for trick-or-treaters (as a fence is a literal liminal space divider in real life, which correlates with the nexus of the waking process being a model as such).
Morning of November 9, 2018. Friday. Dream #: 18,953-02. Reading time: 2 min 34 sec. Readability score: 52. My family and I are living in Cubitis (false scenario - Zsuzsanna has never lived in America). There is a computer set up in the northeast corner of the living room (another false scenario - computer technology of this nature did not exist when I last lived in Cubitis). This is a typical false scenario when my dream self recalls my present life status regarding marriage and family, but no recall of where we live, validating that the unconscious mind and valid memory is not viable in non-lucid dreams. I had been looking at the dream journal website. I am planning to capture all of the content in scholastic loose-leaf binders (3-ring binders), similar to the appearance of my dream journals from 1968 to 1979 (after which I used much bigger binders). I have a dark blue binder full of content from 2018 (and I erroneously perceive 2018 as being “last year”). There is a white rectangular label that reads “2018” on the cover. Over time, I create more binders (out of nowhere, on thought alone) by writing over the label on the first binder first, and then on each next label. I write a “7” over the “8” of 2018, and an additional binder appears on the table for 2017 content. I do this several times for different years. I start looking through them when I have about six. On the first page of one journal, someone had written information about a dream, but the small paragraph seems to be solely made up of several distorted (misspelled) variations of my first and last name. However, I know that it is not related to me, but I find it curious, for example, “clauc lc duc dua ld cluc u alc ac au.” I can make no sense of what it is about. I consider that the entry might be at least partly in Latin. I accidentally write a “1” over a “0”, so that it reads 2108 in the resulting new journal (which was supposed to be 2008), which suddenly expands, fanning more pages than any other binder and causing the binder to be too full to close, but the pages are all blank. I will it away and continue with other content. I go back to 2001 (when the dream journal website was first online) before waking. Literal dream space threads are common even in my non-lucid dreams. My dream self’s real-time focus is typically on the dream state itself, and its dynamics and mediation (whether in subliminal, liminal, or lucid modes), therefore “interpretation” (or what people call “meaning” rather than genuine concurrent causation) is a major misconception, probably the biggest misconception regarding any subject in human history. In fact, it can be clearly understood that creating events and features by thought or anticipation is evidence that I always know when I am in the dream state whether or not I am lucid, and non-lucid dream control is a primary factor of my dreaming history. As shown by my keyword statistics on one website, reading is one of the most common activities in my dreams, though words and phrases often change when looking again or change into gibberish. The only activities more common than reading in my dreams are music-related and flying (not counting interaction with water-reinducers or summoning related simulacrums). This developed out of personal will to become more aware in the dream state (and it is a more common “reality check” for some oneironauts, though I do not use “reality checks” as it undermines reticular formation function). I got this idea from my mother, who often dreamt of reading, and her knowledge of how writing typically changed in the dream state when looking again, thus I have always used reading as a potential precursor to stabilize the presence of my conscious self identity in the dream state (not as a “reality check”).
Morning of October 31, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,944-03. Reading time: 1 min 48 sec. Readability score: 72. I lose my conscious self identity in a later water reinduction stage. I am still in a canoe that is floating through a marsh, probably Mink Slough. Two unfamiliar children are with me, a boy and a girl. I am young as well, though possibly about eighteen. The water seems shallower at one point. There is much vegetation protruding from the water’s surface. The plants are multicolored, that is, different colors in different sections. Someone had coated all the dried-up leaves with a few different colors of spray paint, including blue, red, and yellow. I consider that it was a thoughtless act, as it will likely cause environmental problems. Eventually, we reach the bank and leave the canoe. The King Street landlady has given the children a task to build what I first think is a rabbit cage. (This is an association with early childhood, as my father had a rabbit farm.) There are pieces of wood, screen, and wire to use to build the cage. They are in a pile near the south end of the King Street house. I decide that I will help, but the boy had already built a cage when I pick up a few random boards. In the last scene, I am in the King Street mansion’s kitchen. There is a birdcage where the sink was in real life. The boy may have been cleaning the cage already, as when he leaves the room, there is birdseed stuck all over his face. He does not seem to care. Curiously, the last scene was from a minimal thought while watching “Cargo” (2017) last night, when the girl Thoomi was eating something and got seeds or crumbs stuck on her lips and face. I have always found it astounding how the non-lucid dream self can take one fleeting impersonal trivial thought and make it part of a dream scenario. The movie was about zombies, and yet I have never dreamt of zombies in the apocalyptic sense. (In a dream from 1981, they were based on the original usage of the term as slow-moving sleepwalking slaves, but were revealed to be actors.) I think it is because of how they move so unnaturally in such movies when my reticular formation and vestibular system mostly only create fluid movements in dreams. That, and it is difficult to imagine very sick people as being stronger or faster than healthy people. The common melatonin mediation factor appears here (as occurs one or more times each sleep cycle). It starts with water induction and ends with vestibular system correlation (the boy in the kitchen as the vestibular simulacrum leaving the birdcage - and note how the birdcage was where the sink was in reality).
Morning of October 30, 2018. Tuesday. Dream #: 18,943-03. Reading time: 2 min 38 sec. Readability score: 62. My dream renders a mixed-up combination of a pawn shop from America, a bookstore from Nundah (Australia), and a tackle shop from America. It seems to be late afternoon. I am on my own, with little conscious self memory (even though Zsuzsanna and I frequented the Nundah bookstore years ago). There is a backstory, and false memory, about how I had traded several packs of long bookbinding screws (at least four inches in length) for credit or to trade, though I do not recall all of the details. There are two unfamiliar female cashiers present who are in their twenties. (The bookbinding screws relate to my big stamp album binders from when I lived in Florida, though there are likely associations with similar screws I used for putting the swing set together after Christmas.) I am carrying a winter jacket (though mostly slung over my left shoulder). As such, I try not to appear suspicious, as I also have items I had brought into this store. I consider that they might think I am taking them from their store and trying to hide them under my jacket. (This is a literal bed space strand, as subliminal awareness of the bed sheet pulling around my left shoulder.) They seem puzzled (and express disbelief) when I infer how I had traded items previously. The shelves that had packs of bookbinding screws are now all empty. For some reason, they are to do with fishing tackle, but my dream self does not reflect upon this error. The owner is at the back of his store, but I do not approach his counter. (I perceive him as the owner of the pawn shop in La Crosse, though there are also associations with the owner of the Nundah bookstore.) One of the women asks me if I want to buy one of the bigger bass plugs, but I respond that they are too big for the type of fishing I do (which includes striped bass and smallmouth bass for which I prefer small jigs and spoons). I then walk to the opposite side of the store. I see that they are selling magazines and comic books, though there are only a few different titles on the wooden display shelves. I see two Casper comic books next to each other. There are a few copies of each, vertically stacked. One is $4.53, and the other is $5.64. I decide to buy them, but I am not sure if I have enough money. An unknown chubby man of about twenty (who works in the store) picks one up to look through. I tell him that I had hundreds of Casper comic books collected over thirty years and that they were usually different. I add that sometimes there were reprints in digests and suggest their size by forming a small square with my hands. I tell him about those digest stories being “backed up” in the way I would describe how I back up my dream documentation online and on more than one drive. As I walk to the checkout counter on the opposite side of the store, he calls out, saying something about “sending backup.” The reference seems humorous or business-related rather than inferring police activity. I reach into my wallet and see that I have solely an American twenty-dollar note, which will suffice, even though I consider the prices on the comic book covers will be more when changing to the Australian amount. I pay the cashier, and as I get my change, I deliberately, though liminally, reset the scenario and leave without paying. When the emerging consciousness simulacrum (the chubby male) was talking about “sending backup,” it became a comically sarcastic reference to me subliminally resetting my dream to deliberately manipulate the function of RAS (reticular activating system) as the preconscious simulacrum in the second instance by “erasing” the cashier’s presence. I have utilized this sort of dream control and subliminal, liminal, and lucid manipulation since early childhood.
Morning of October 30, 2018. Tuesday. Dream #: 18,943-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 71. I become aware of being on the Loomis Street house’s porch (liminal space) where I have a galvanized metal washtub full of gray powder with silvery properties. It is supposed to be nitroglycerin. I had supposedly ordered it via mail-order. My brother-in-law Bob (appearing as he was in the 1980s) cautions me that the authorities might find it. I keep the washtub near the northeast corner, not that far from the porch door. I am aware of Zsuzsanna and our children at times. Our youngest son went with our oldest daughter east down Gillette Street (where there were no stores in real life, though my dream implies there were). I read a brochure (that seems foreign, possibly from the Philippines) that claims its appearance is like that of soil to anyone who does not look at it closely. (There is no distortion in the text I read, though I do not attempt to read it the second time.) The detail is very realistic and precise, including the silver grains. I make it into tiny “snowballs” that I throw to the porch step outside. It makes a loud sound like a big firecracker. I claim that a golf-ball-sized amount would be like a nuclear bomb, though there is no evidence of that and I make no attempt to prove it. I have fun with it, and my tangibility is enhanced. At one point, I see what first seems like a detached arm, with a hand, crawling on the branch of a tree, grasping at a small teddy bear. It turns out to be a Halloween toy for a dog (and is mechanical, not organic). An unknown woman is looking for her dog. Later, even though I am still on the porch, it also seems I am in an outside area. Flowering plants are present to my left. I toss some of the powder onto the sidewalk, directly in front of me, without pressing it into a small ball. A fire soon covers the area, but I stomp it out with my foot. This dream stemmed from an earlier one of watching Dean Norris (as the vestibular system simulacrum) and two unknown people work with nitroglycerin. There was a scene where they were climbing what looked like monkey bars (from my elementary school’s playground) or scaffolding coated in nitroglycerin. It was on a stage (like the one from my high school). A quick small fire moves over all of the structure, immediately going out, and Dean appears to be worried for a short time (as he remains vertically holding onto the bars about halfway up and to the right), but no harm comes to anyone. He talks about how dangerous it is. I am puzzled as to why an actor would seemingly risk his safety for a public service video. I believe that the mechanical detached horizontally-oriented arm crawling on a branch to the teddy bear is a literal bed space strand, though seems to be the only first-level one in this dream.
Morning of October 25, 2018. Thursday. Dream #: 18,938-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 83. In late morning, I find myself in a big barn (in an unknown location) that serves as a recording studio for the Beatles. There is much sound equipment on hay bales and the barn floor, such as big amplifiers and mixing consoles, but I do not see any musical instruments. There are a few unfamiliar men present, one being a producer, another, a sound engineer. While a man is checking a track, there is an unusual drum fill where the snare audio reverses at least twice. The man is puzzled and asks Paul McCartney what that was, but he does not reply. A different “drum fill” is heard, but it turns out to be someone knocking on the barn door. (This scene is ambiguous for two reasons, one, a door knock would not have reverse audio and two, the sound came from the equipment.) A man comes in with a tiger that belongs to John Lennon’s wife (Cynthia Powell). He pets it for a short time. There is no sense of danger. Later, there is an unknown man with a Bainbridge livestock prod. He taps the tiger with it on the rump, and John and the man with the tiger slowly leave the barn. They seem cheerful. Next, the man uses the prod on some farm animals. He touches the rump of a horse with it to get it to move to the corner of the barn. The horse seems annoyed but goes where the man wants him to go. I do not see any of the Beatles at this point and decide to leave the barn. I go around to the back and see a young version of Zsuzsanna, who is about eight years old. However, my real-life identity is not extant in this dream, and so my dream self does not recall who she is. There is a cage adjacent to the back of the barn. There are at least three brown-mantled tamarins in the cage, a mother and two babies. Zsuzsanna is sitting on the ground watching them. She does not speak. I hold the paw of the mother tamarin, stroking the fur on the back of its “hand.” It seems tame. Later, I get up and go back into the barn, which is now empty and full of hundreds of flies that start buzzing in my face. The air is thick with them, and they are loud. I soon decide to leave the barn and slowly wake after I walk back out. As I wake, I realize that the illusion of the flies was a distortion of the sound of the fan and its air on my face (from the foot of the bed). Two other dreams came before this, one of sending many DVDs over time to a member of the dream journal website (a long-term male poster). The other related to capturing each instrument from the Beatles’ “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” to use virtual versions (mostly on keyboards) for a live cover.
Morning of October 24, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,937-01. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. Readability score (optimized): 60. My family and I (in my dream’s fictitious backstory), mostly as we appear now, had been living in Kampong Ayer, a Brunei water village, for about a year. Other than this fallacy, my conscious self identity is extant, though I am not lucid. There is a vague concern about my dream journals becoming damp, as there is a false memory that I keep them on the floor, where there are gaps in the floorboards directly over the water. However, I do not act upon these thoughts. While outside on the boardwalk, I notice that two of our curtains had moved out to the outside of the window and had become submerged in the water by about two inches. I also see a curved board on the outer wall, warped from dampness, about halfway up on the outer wall. The curved board is a literal, though indoor, real-life feature near our lounge room ceiling. It was caused by the indoor rainstorm when our roof was torn off in November of last year. Common strands: Melatonin mediation and circadian rhythm (The presence of water and its specific forms and dynamics is a temporal association with the sleep cycle) Literal dream space strand (Literal association with dreams while in the dream state, in this case, thinking about my dream journals) Curtains and window as a specific level of division between dreaming and waking (Common factor of subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, though I have often used curtains in lucidly and non-lucidly controlled dreams)
Morning of October 23, 2018. Tuesday. Dream #: 18,936-03. Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 69. As my non-lucid dream self, holding no viable threads of my real-life identity, I become vividly aware that I am sitting in the back seat, on the left-hand side, of an otherwise empty car in the Village Shopping Center parking lot in La Crosse. It is nighttime. I become aware that the car belongs to my brother-in-law Bob. (I have not had any contact with Bob since 1994, over twenty years ago.) There are only two other cars present. An idea comes to my dream self’s fictitious mind that I should go to the driver’s seat and take the car back to the Loomis Street house. I am feeling very cheerful and confident. I get out on the left-hand side and go around to get in the front seat. (This is really about the typical initiating of subliminal control of the dream state and has nothing to do with waking life or “interpretation.”) I get behind the driver’s seat. It is difficult to close the car doors, and I try several times. They are flimsy and not like real car doors at all, but are about as efficient as a dream can make something that stems from vivid non-lucidity. (It would have been better letting the dream play itself at this specific point.) I have no idea how to start the car. I have no key. I first consider that it starts like a lawn mower, but I do not see a recoil starter assembly. There is a small metal lever on the left side, below the steering wheel. I put my foot on the gas pedal and wiggle the lever. Gasoline starts pouring from underneath the full length of the dashboard. That concerns me. I do not want to incur the risk of something catching on fire. I get out of the car, and two unfamiliar men get out of their cars and come over to help me. At this point, as the men check over the car, I anticipate an explosion (an attempt at subliminal dream control), and I tell them to move away, but nothing happens. I decide to walk to the Loomis Street house. On the way, walking east on the north side of Sill Street, I notice many boxes of magazines on the boulevard. It is a recurring situation where I realize I can take what I want (as I am deliberately though subliminally creating this scenario at its foundation, knowing it is a dream on one level), as it is left out for garbage pickup. It is also late morning. My non-lucid dream self does not register the impossible time change (as is always the case). I find a stack of magazines that are black-and-white collections of Nancy comic strips (by Ernie Bushmiller). Looking around more, I also notice stacks of interior decorating magazines, which I have no interest in at the time. This part of my dream comes from the lifelong practice of trying to initiate viable emerging consciousness threads by focusing on sustained reading skills of which do not ordinarily exist in the dream state. I arrive at the Loomis Street house. My sister and mother are there and seem healthy. My dream self has no recall that they are deceased. A minimal thread of my conscious self identity emerges, but it is rather odd. I vaguely recall the concept of marijuana from Nimbin, yet I have no memory that I have lived in Australia for over twenty years or of my real-life status. (Additionally, I would never try drugs in real life under any circumstances, another factor that validates my dream self is not my true conscious self identity.) I have some “marijuana” that I smoke with my mother and sister. It is rolled-up full-sized newspapers. There is trouble keeping them rolled up, and they burn with big flames, though I still suck in the fire and smoke. As I focus, I am astounded by my vivified perception, and yet I am not lucid. I start to become puzzled as I enter enigmatic space (a specific level of the dream state). I realize, though vaguely, that there is no marijuana and that smoking newspaper is odd. I start to wake, realizing what my dream self had been creating. Fire is the emerging consciousness and often part of the waking process. The newspapers, at least as related to reading them, are the attempt to sharpen my perception, as I had tried to do in the previous dream segment, but it did not initiate lucidity, only revivification.
Morning of October 22, 2018. Monday. Dream #: 18,935-02. Optimized 1 min 45 sec read. As the basis of a false backstory residually originating from the Naiad factor (initial dream state induction), Zsuzsanna owns a sector of the La Crosse River that flows through Veterans Memorial Park and Campground in West Salem, Wisconsin. Together, we sit on the ground at the location. The setting slowly becomes darker, with indoor-outdoor ambiguity. Eventually, the water has lowered, and the river is gone. I peer earthward at a long narrow strip of soil where the river had been flowing. Dense tape grass covers it, but I think the river is underneath. The riverbed's banks slope into the narrow length of tape grass. Zsuzsanna and I puzzle over where the water went. I assume I need to pull up the tape grass to allow the water to rise and flow again. Zsuzsanna remains on my left (corresponding with our sleeping orientation). I notice that a section of ground becomes larger as I gaze at it. With metacognition, I envision and create tiny crocodiles. First, there is one, then several more in a row that continues to the right, facing left (as my body is in sleep). They are not hatchlings but miniature adults about three inches long. I am amused. "Look at all the crocodiles," I cheerfully say to Zsuzsanna as we study them. Although they are currently tiny immobile crocodiles, there is a lack of discernibility in the semidarkness. A flashlight materializes in my right hand. I shine it toward the crocodiles. They are not crocodiles now but curled dry maple leaves. A maple leaf symbolizes peace, defining the temporary status of my protoconsciousness in navigating dream space, not necessarily with waking-life relevance, though dream content often colors one's mood for the day. To clarify, I had summoned crocodiles (as a wakefulness stimulus), yet they are miniature and tranquil, exemplifying a peaceful waking transition (from REM atonia) while morphing into maple leaves. Metacognitive indicators: Dream state pun: riverbed. Indoor-outdoor ambiguity frequently occurs as a result of metacognition. Knowing I am indoors while sleeping often integrates into imaginary outdoor settings, creating consciously unresolvable amalgams (simultaneously perceiving two or more places that coexist). This factor is evidence against the asinine "simulated reality" hypothesis. Sunlight that goes into the eyes triggers the effects of serotonin. Summoning a flashlight is solely dream space navigation and my somatosensory phasing response for this transition, unrelated to real life. Water lowering is a common dream outcome, usually only in the final dream of a sleep cycle. It signifies leaving the dream state and has zero to do with real life. Water is the essence of sleep. Its dynamics correlate directly with my level of metacognitive navigation.
Updated 06-14-2021 at 07:48 AM by 1390
Morning of October 20, 2018. Saturday. Dream #: 18,933-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 58. In the first part of my dream, I am in the backyard of the Cubitis home with Zsuzsanna. We are sorting a big pile of laundry in the area near the southeast windows. Over time, I realize we are in a different world, without considering how preposterous that is (subliminal awareness of the dream state). Eventually, we walk a short distance east, now being in the Stadcor Street house’s kitchen. An unfamiliar dark-haired man of about thirty years old, implied to be a denizen of this “other world,” looks on as I try to copy a structure for serving a useful purpose for the length of our stay. From what I know so far, the denizens make large metal frames, though I am not yet sure of why. Mine turns out to be a wooden bed frame, though my dream self does not viably make the association (with either beds or sleep). I had mentally created it without lucidity. I study it for a considerable time, puzzling over how the wood is not perfectly straight from different viewpoints, yet I do not feel concern or a sense of incompetence. “I am good at building houses,” I say with confidence, as I place the wooden bed frame in about the center of the Stadcor Street “kitchen” (still perceived as being outside in a rural area). My dream self does not consider that this wooden bed frame could not serve as a foundation for a house. “You’re not making it out of metal?” asks the RAS simulacrum (the unfamiliar dark-haired man of about thirty years old), seeming somewhat puzzled, his expression and words causing me to consider if I need to make a metal one as a legal or social requirement. I slowly wake while thinking about what I need to add to our “house.” solution a common factor of communication with the RAS simulacrum is its effort to get me to realize I am dreaming - but it only intrusively dominates when there is not a viable threshold (enigmatic space) thread the bed frame that my dream self is going to use as a “house foundation” in my dream is wooden though our real bed frame is indeed metal dream factors two locations incorrectly and uniquely combined west area of Cubitis backyard > Stadcor Street kitchen (east) directional orientation correct indoor-outdoor ambiguity (simultaneously being indoors and outdoors) Stadcor Street kitchen is also outside in “another world” in a rural area Cubitis backyard is also an indoor area in the first scene subliminal appreciation of the dream state as being “another world” incorrect placement of Zsuzsanna in an American setting dream state indicator as laundry (as I do not wear clothes when I sleep), representing the subliminal recall of having discarded clothes before going to bed dream state indicator of literally “making the bed” (subliminal awareness of being asleep) RAS simulacrum does not typically dominate the waking process when I am in first-level dream state indicator space even if I am not lucid
Morning of October 19, 2018. Friday. Dream #: 18,932-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 58. In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar field, though it eventually seems to be modeled after the playground of my elementary school. A boy is playing soccer with older males. At one point, there is an accident. He gets kicked hard by others and falls so that his body vanishes. (This is the typical nonsensical “dream logic.”) There are other people present making comments about the situation, saying that the boy should not have been there in the first place, implying the team members should have been within the same age range. It had been late in the afternoon, but now it is getting to be nighttime, and people are still debating the event. An unfamiliar male (the preconscious avatar of this dream) picks up one end of a sidewalk. (This would be the northwest area of the West Elementary playground, but my dream self is only vaguely aware of this.) I lift the other (west) side, and we pick up the whole section, though it remains mostly diagonal. The body is not underneath it. I then start talking about how the season and the temperature relates to the level of difficulty in lifting sidewalk sections. I consider that we may be checking under all the others, but I wake after this scene. In the study of tens of thousands of my dreams on a day-to-day basis since childhood (for over fifty years), I have unlocked the recurring function of the preconscious helping my non-lucid dream self to resolve enigmatic space and return to consciousness. An aspect of this is “finding the sleeper,” which stems from the obvious subliminal thought of “Am I sleeping?” as well as “Where am I?” or “Where can my conscious self be found?” (to return to real life, not from the philosophical standpoint.) The RAS simulacrum is lifting a sidewalk section to look under it, and I decide to help him (choosing to participate in my potential wakefulness). This process stems from childhood lucid dreams, where I would deliberately evade the RAS process and its avatars by sinking into the ground and chanting “invisible, invisible.” (I would find myself in an underground cave. I used to use devices, such as canes and bracelets with buttons, to augment my intent of sustaining my dream.) The location is the same area where I deliberately sank under the ground in childhood lucid dreams, to sustain my adventure and the dream state after emergence into its vivified form. (Now, I mostly use doors, staircases, and virtual melatonin reinducers; water splashes and Naiads.) The reticular formation’s simulacrum lifting the sidewalk section is modeled after the lifting of a trapdoor, to remind me that my waking life identity can leave the essence of the dream world. The falling boy was the vestibular event. My location and orientation in contrast to the preconscious avatar’s were the same as in those early dreams. (Ultimately, I am, at least physically, no longer a boy, so that property will not necessarily emerge during the waking process.)
Morning of October 17, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,930-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 51. My dream unfolds with the same autosymbolic processes and related components in the same order towards waking as they have on a day-to-day basis for over fifty years, though as is usually the case, in an intriguingly different manner. Act One: The non-lucid creation of my vestibular system simulacrum to correlate the illusory physicality of the dream state at the precursory level. An old woman, modeled after Sally Fergus (of the television series “Dirty Sally”) travels through the Old West. The setting is a variation of the “Gunsmoke” (television series) set. She has a natural ability to mimic the sound of a chicken perfectly. She casually walks through town, calling all the chickens to aid her in robbing a bank. She is cheerful and confident. Act Two: My vestibular system simulacrum is closer to viable RAS mediation and the association with chickens not being capable of sustained flight is transmuted into a paper airplane event. The old woman wants to call upon other bandits to help her in future escapades. She folds dollar bills into paper airplanes, writes messages on them with details for potential meetings, and throws them into taverns where possible candidates might be sitting. She also taunts the sheriff by flinging paper airplanes (again, made of folded dollar bills) to his desk at times. Sarcastic messages about his ineptitude are on them. (In this case, the precursory RAS simulacrum - the sheriff - is divided from the vestibular system simulacrum, which is not always the rule. It seems dependent on both ultradian rhythm and my level of dream self awareness, though ultimately it is about unification and reestablishing consciousness.) Act Three: The emerging consciousness cue occurs by way of the gathering coins factor. (This was sometimes used deliberately at a liminal or lucid level from early childhood, but water reinduction is far more common for me as well as for Zsuzsanna.) Additionally, there is the final subliminal association and revelation of the real physical body being “hidden” within a bed sheet from the non-lucid dream self. That has been the exit point process of many dreams since childhood. The old woman is gathering her men near a wagon to help her move a big rolled-up carpet. The cowboys and bandits decide to unroll it. As they do, more and more coins are visible. They marvel at the hundreds of beautiful coins. I slowly wake. Since early childhood, I have remained perplexed over telepathic threads that weave themselves into the dreaming processes. In this case, there are two sources. One, Zsuzsanna had read a story (from a library book I had not seen) to our children about messages sent via paper airplanes. Two, Zsuzsanna had been in a conversation with her sister about an older woman making money with her chickens, though by selling the eggs. I had no precursory idea or cue from either event. These literal transpersonal crossovers into what is otherwise inducing, dreaming, and waking autosymbolism remains an enigma. We experience it all the time. Many others do not.
Morning of October 16, 2018. Tuesday. Dream #: 18,929-01. Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 71. I am in the front room of our present address. It seems to be early evening. On my desk is an unrealistically big DVD player rather than my computer (as in real life). It is about as tall as my real monitor. I am having difficulty opening the drawer and eventually find a DVD stuck at an angle inside. I am also looking for other DVDs but am uncertain where they are. I look inside the DVD player and look up from an orientation that would not be possible in real life (as there is no way my head would fit inside the drawer space of the DVD player). I see the underside of the laser mechanism that reads DVDs. (My dream is erroneous because this would imply that DVDs are played upside-down in this player.) The area around the lens is rusty and eroded. There are other areas of a similar appearance. (This is dream self confusion with the tape oxide build up that occurs with cassette decks and has no connection with DVD player associations in real life.) Eventually, I see something moving in a space atop the DVD player. This section resembles a transparent turntable cover. On the left side, there is a small animal covered with lint and dust, so much so, that I can not identify what it is at first. However, I soon see a mouse tail sticking out from one end. I pick up the lump of lint and dust and hold the mouse in my hand. It is now about three times bigger than it had just been and there is no more dust or lint on it. I decide to take it outside and let it go. I vividly feel its movement on my hand. As I walk through the house, I am now in a fictitious alteration of the Stadcor Street house (where we have not lived for years). At the front of the house is a fictitious porch. (This feature has occurred in other dreams that include the Stadcor Street house. In real life, the entrance was perpendicular to the front of the house, not directly at the front as in this dream.) The mostly featureless porch has no low-set wall or railing (and is more like a balcony). I absentmindedly let the big mouse fall to the floor, but it seems fine. It runs off the edge of the porch, at the front, into the darkness. The ground is at least four feet down. (That is erroneous as well, as the house did not have this elevation until years after we moved.) I do not walk over to see its status, as I start to wake at this point. I am aware that Zsuzsanna and our oldest daughter are in the lounge room (still the Stadcor Street house). [key descriptors] This dream has minor telepathic threads, which is often the basis for what people (including me) mistakenly call precognition. I will eventually clarify where it can “explain” what seems to be precognition, such as inexplicable communication with Zsuzsanna long before we made contact in waking life. (In this case, one thread was from Zsuzsanna thinking about finding misplaced library DVDs, of which I had no prior awareness.) [key ERRORS] I confuse cassette tape oxide build up with a DVD player association. Additionally, I confuse our old audio deck that includes a turntable as having a modern DVD player as one of the units. It also replaces where my computer is set up in reality. The mouse grows in size without dream state recognition. Its coloring is otherwise the same as one of our oldest daughter’s pet mice, but I do not have this recall while in my dream. Our present home transforms into a house we have not lived at in years, and in turn, that house has a fictitious porch. That house also now has a higher elevation than when we lived there, though has that property in my dream. Despite my dream self having a few viable threads of my conscious identity, the creation of the porch to replace enigmatic space (to aid in lucidity if the potential is present) did not work, but only resulted in passively projected vestibular system correlation. That is, I subliminally transform the process as the mouse running off the edge of the elevated porch rather than the vestibular system correlation where I might fly or “fall” out of the dream state. (There are thousands of examples of this process, but always slightly different.)
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