Blue_Opossum

Morning of July 13, 2016. Wednesday.



The first segment relates to my wife Zsuzsanna and our family as we are now though living in a house that seems like a variation of the Loomis Street house. One difference is that there is an additional porch door on its south end, closest to the internal wall. It had apparently been unused for longer periods by other tenants and was even nailed shut. In fact, there is a point at which I remove the nails and we use it for a time. Eventually, our landlord appears and, even though we had been using the door recently, makes the claim “this door has never been opened”. I find his ignorance typical of people but amusing. He appears to be here to make repairs.

Soon, there is this idea that I am leaving for an undetermined amount of time. Zsuzsanna had asked me at least twice if there was a nude man sleeping in the middle of the street (dream sign). I am not sure at first as it may just be an animal that had been run over. It seems to be late afternoon. Everyone is sad to see me leave. I leave with no additional belongings or items. A car pulls up (from the north if assuming Loomis Street) and an unknown teenage girl is the driver. (This is one of those many times when I somehow know that I am creating the events in my dream, in this case summoning the driver “out of nowhere”, but I am not at all aware that I am dreaming.) Before I ride off in the car (the driver’s side being on the left even though I have lived in Australia since 1994), Zsuzsanna asks me again about a possible nude man sleeping in the middle of the street but I am still not sure.

The dark-haired girl is dressed somewhat formally in black slacks and a light-colored sleeveless top. I do not learn her name at any point. Her demeanor is somewhat formal though still cheerful. I notice that the unusual imagery in the middle of the street is actually an animatronics display of two beavers as in an implied scene from one of the “Chronicles of Narnia” movies. This seems curious to me as it may be a hazard for vehicles to have to drive around. Ahead, as we go south, we notice other animatronics displays, most of which are large but most are on each side of the street. One, on the left, is somewhat like a small Nativity scene. This all seems like some sort of temporary publicity stunt as well as a holiday-related event.

A shift occurs and it is now late at night. I am now walking with the unknown female in an unfamiliar alley though it is an illogical setting as one alley leads into an additional perpendicular alley with a high light-colored wooden fence on the opposite side. An unknown man approaches us with a knife to rob us. Even though I am not lucid, I say “You have no knife” and his knife vanishes. He appears to be very puzzled and somewhat concerned. For a short time I think of making him vanish as well but instead, I create a revolver in my right hand and aim it at him. I then think that this might make the girl think that I am a violent person so I cause my gun to vanish. The man runs off into the night.

I am now returning to my family. It has been two years since I had seen them (though Zsuzsanna appears about twenty years younger and our children appear about three years younger). I hug her in the doorway. We are going to travel to a new home. Many people are going to help us, though most of them are in their fifties to seventies. The journey will be difficult since we have to wade through a river in the coldest part of the year. In fact, someone asks me why I want to go there at this time but I do not have an answer for them. Still, I am not sure how Zsuzsanna and our children get through as I only see several older people making the journey. I am with them but somehow not fully in my body. I do not seem as stressed as they are by the conditions of the environment. One older male’s outer flesh had come off from his right side and I can see his ribs and lungs. He keeps wading through the cold water with the others. I think perhaps he may die, yet he continues. I feel a bit guilty about his condition.

We all end up on the porch of my family’s new home. Oddly, it just seems like another version of the Loomis Street house (in seeming location and orientation) that we had left. It seems an older unknown male is letting us live there for as long as we want. The male who had a large strip of his flesh come off seems to be okay now. Many antiques and knickknacks are visible, including some sort of smaller cylindrical objects with a forest painted in one smaller circular area on the side and which may be candle holders. I remark about the house probably having been built in the 1700s. I see that the brick wall on my right is very crooked, with the bricks at various depths from the wall’s implied center (almost as if something very strong had tried to push out from the other side) but this does not seem problematic in any way. There seems to be some sort of machine attached to the ceiling. I can see two small rectangular buttons close to each other longways, one red, one yellow, the red one on the left as I look up. Someone activates it with a switch on the wall for a short time and a few are wary of it as it is fairly large and hanging over their heads. It is connected to some sort of pulley and is part of a device to carry parts for production from one area to another but has been unused since perhaps the 1800s.

I look out through the doorway and discover that there is now an additional porch that is illogically linked to the front of this porch. It is a bit bigger and mostly glass and metal rather than brick. There is a series of French doors all the way across the front. I clearly see writing that is printed in large letters (at least six rows) from ceiling to floor. It says “To Lulu” on each left door and “To me” on each right door (and there are probably four sets of two) so that the writing is close near the middle of where each pair of doors open. The writing is on bars that go across what is otherwise glass to where I can see outside to the street.

I go back into the other smaller porch and comment on how the house was built for, and dedicated to, a girl named Lulu. I start repeating “To Lulu, to me, to Lulu, to me” over and over. (Lulu is the name of a singer who sang “To Sir with Love”, which I heard a lot as a child and young adult and which I also performed as an instrumental on both accordions and keyboards. However, there is also a song called “Don’t Bring Lulu” which I also performed, though I assume it means the singer as Paula Abdul was referenced in one of my last dreams.)