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Morning of October 18, 2014. Saturday.



These were typical “filler” dreams, I suppose; the type of dream that comes between more significant dreams.

It was also the typical fishing theme of a dream type that usually has the same overall aspects since early childhood (the “prototype” first occurring at age four; October 2, 1965 in La Crosse). This includes the facets of fishing with my brother-in-law Bob, the water getting lower over time until mostly all gone (with the water often being shallow as it is), about four adjoining fishing spots (at least one spot often being clearly with no fish), and sometimes the scene mysteriously changing from outside to inside.

In this one, I am fishing in an unknown location with my brother-in-law Bob and one other male I am not sure of the identity of at this time. I firstly catch a large northern pike with a treble hook. The two others do not catch anything. It is too difficult to get the hook out of the fish’s tough mouth but I somehow mentally will it out and then will it onto the stringer. The water is cold and will keep the fish fresh.

At one point, I find myself about ten feet above the ground and standing on a narrow ledge against some sort of edifice or possibly part of a commercial dam. It somehow seems that the ledge seemed wider at first. This seems problematic (and one could easily fall off simply by casting with too much forward momentum or enthusiasm), so I go back down to the ground. I go to a different area and notice that one location has no fish (which I conclude due to the clarity of the water down to the small lake bottom). After casting too far and getting a few snags in both rocks and plants on the other side of the small lake (both above and below the water’s surface), I manage to catch two more fish; two bluegills. The others have still not caught anything, but we have enough to eat for one smaller meal, it seems.

After time passes, it seems like the location is now somehow indoors. Most of the water has lowered to where it would be pointless to try to fish anymore. This common in-dream scenario likely simply relates to becoming more conscious (slowly waking) and little else (whereas more water relates to going “deeper” into the dream for me, often triggering lucidity where I then sometimes control the motions of the water), in addition to the logical slowly waking perspective of then being indoors where one actually is at the time. I think that a lot of in-dream transitions have nothing to do with supposed symbolism as much as they represent simply going from the dream into waking life and I have documented such obvious waking transitions thousands of times with hundreds of different representations of transition types - from larger boxes closing over smaller boxes (“closing up a subconscious facet” with more clarity and growing consciousness) to fruit growing rapidly (or “becoming more conscious and aware”) and stopping at the point of waking. In fact, even falling asleep in the past, I often started to hear the pleasant sound of water (as if from a small brook) in beginning hypnagogic audio.

In the next dream, which is fairly short, I am playing darts where Josh Holloway is present. (Josh Holloway, for some reason, is the only recent celebrity that appears with any regularity but he always has a different name though in this dream a name is not noticed.) One player puts his face near the board as a sort of challenge but I meet the challenge by not throwing a dart into his face and hitting the areas mostly near the center. The same person does not trust one of the other players as he had trusted me and moves away when the other person is up.

Looking back, the fishing dream was preceded by another dream related to fishing but involving my old classmates including David S (also a friend) and Wayne H and Bobby S. This one is rather odd in that we mostly only talk about going fishing on a particular day with mention of the weather being too problematic to do much. The dream focuses on a larger room full of beds, some in line with each other, some perpendicular to others. I spend most of the time washing blankets and sheets and being annoyed by how little a washing machine holds. I can only fit about two sheets in at a time when I have at least ten or more to wash for the next visit by the group.

The ledge scene in the first dream above is a vague in-dream replay of a scenario from “Cat’s Eye” (from 1985).

Morning of October 16, 2014. Thursday.



I have had kidnapping dreams since early childhood from various perspectives, including the rescue of Brenda W (as the precognitive wife-to-be “stand-in”) in the recurring “Patches” dream as well as escaping from a villainous Ricardo Montalbán by phasing and flying through the roof of a taxi in “My Little Cane”, but this one is atypical and quite vivid. In my dream, there is recent news of a child having vanished from her parents’ apartment on the third floor. Her name is Elly. (The name is seemingly unrelated to any real-life character though may possibly be a play on my wife’s middle name of Gabrielle or of our youngest daughter’s first name Isabelle.)

This is also one of the only dreams in my lifetime (especially in recent years) where I seemed to have a more discernible stronger fear to a point where it “reset” and had a replay. (Not only that, I woke up with my eyelids inside-out, which made my wife ask if I was okay. Of all the bizarre events I have lived through, that has not happened before to my knowledge.) This is not like the purposely instigated dinosaur-chase dreams (which I no longer have) but something quite different. I seem to be some sort of “medium” where I can pick up on someone else’s state of emotion. I “become” the apparently kidnapped girl at least in a sort of remote-viewing awareness. I strongly sense her feeling of being lost and away from her home. I clearly feel her vulnerability (as I believe she is only about three years old). It causes me to scream twice yet this is not “me”, it is the other entity within me and someone I may be able to help. The scream mostly comes from seemingly having my arm twisted too far around (when walking in a particular direction), which seems to be a fairly common fear of someone this age. (Most people seem to completely forget what it was like as a child, which seems odd to me, as I still am able to clearly remember the quite different size orientation and unusual perspective (compared to now) as well as how imposing, cruel, and obnoxious older people seem even when they do not mean to be.) I “recover” from that state and go for a walk. The scenario seems fairly convenient. I already see her older brother and an older sister in the area. (Her parents have a total of three children.) The area seems like a typical composite, seemingly with features of La Crosse and Brisbane mashed together ambiguously.

I go to the apartment to check out the location. I apparently have some sense of “detection” relative to the previous in-dream event, sort of like X-ray vision via my hands as I hold them up and about to use this ability. I can still “hear” her mood at times, but I think she is sleeping presently. I end up going about two blocks past the parents’ apartment into a different apartment building. On the second floor, I sense a presence. The environment itself seems to react to my intent. Oddly, a wheelbarrow is in the hall. The wheelbarrow actually stands upright on its handles, using its handles to walk about somewhat mechanically. It knocks against the door, seemingly “communicating” with me that this is where the girl is.

I go in without fear and notice a clutter near the door but am still able to get through. A Caucasian male is watching television. He is probably about forty, quite chubby and mostly balding, wearing a white tank top. I ask him where Elly is and he does not seem surprised. I also tell him that he would not believe the nature of how I found her, that is, until the wheelbarrow “walks” into the room on its handles. I am not sure of what sort of character this is and am not sure if the wheelbarrow will somehow “eat” him. It seems possible that the girl just wandered off, but I am ready to take her home at any rate. She does not seem hurt; just a bit frail and weak, sleeping. She has dark curly hair (similar to my wife’s).

I pick her up and when I go outside, carrying her, it begins to rain fairly heavily as I am walking, but the heavy, cold drops are rather sparse. The external walls of various buildings are to my left, but there are no awnings or extended roofs to take cover under. A few drops of cool rain fall on her face and start to revive her and she moans and blinks at the raindrops falling on her face. Her eyes are green and catlike (also like my wife’s). This part; imagery, orientation, movement, augmented touch; all extremely vivid as life. It is quite amazing.

I get to the other apartment and although it is difficult to balance and climb the steps while carrying her, I get to the next landing. A (unknown) male asks me if it is Elly and I say yes and he says that it is the first good news he has heard all day, seemingly in contrast to some sort of business franchise not working out as well as general world news in the media. My dream fades as I reach the door of her apartment, after going into low-flying mode to avoid the step-by-step “problematic” staircase.

Morning of September 29, 2014. Monday.



Much of the first part of my dream was bizarrely distorted with only the ending sections being more coherent and memorably detailed. I am sitting on a bench along the wall of a bank, in the corner of the very large room. Perpendicular to my seat is a counter where two young unknown female tellers are working to my right. Apparently, I am there to help in the progress of an upcoming bank robbery. I am contemplating this and have decided that instead, I will help stop the planned robbery.

Eventually, two bizarre older twin male characters come in and I know that they are the ones to begin the robbery. They are only about four feet tall and move in a very odd manner, their bodies being almost like penguins. One of them jumps several feet into the air for some unknown reason. I alert the tellers to the planned robbery and feel that I have changed from being a villain into being a hero, as if it were some sort of important back story to my dream. It feels very precise and realistic even though it does not at all relate to my real life in any way.

After this, I walk out into an area adjacent to the bank’s parking lot, which seems like some sort of composite of an outdoor library and magazine vendor (recurring - possibly an in-dream continuous “rebellion” or in-dream “law” of being told “this ain’t no library, kid” when looking at a magazine from the shelf of a vendor in real life in childhood). The vividness of my dream peaks the most at this point, as well as with more realistic detail and bright colors. There are a lot of interesting magazines and books on display. There is a harmonious awareness and I feel a sense of peace. I notice one magazine spread that is about eye-level on the shelf. It is a two-page photograph (seemingly taken outside or on a veranda) of a male (from about the shoulders up) with long dark hair and a partly indiscernible, yet somewhat stoic expression. He looks much like me (but I do not recognize the image as such in-dream) but perhaps ten or more years older. I perceive it as possibly a composite of Carl Sagan and Isaac Asimov (except the male is not wearing glasses) or one of the two (though the male in the photograph looks Native American for the most part), yet there is also a vague idea that he is a rock star. I look to my right on a shelf perpendicular to the one I am studying and see another copy of the magazine that is displaying the spread (with other copies in the same general area). It is a National Geographic magazine that is closer to A4-sized rather than its smaller digest size. I recognize the design and yellowish colors and vignettes and soon see the wording.

Instead of looking into the magazines more, I find my dream losing a bit of vividness. I notice other people behind me and to my right who are sitting at picnic tables reading other books from the outdoor “library”. I turn right and “walk out of my dream” with seemingly semiconscious intent.

Morning of September 21, 2014. Sunday.



There is supposedly a species of pink butterfly that attacks people. They are very large but not what I would call giant. They are about the size of a crow. Apparently, there are so many of them in certain regions of the world that people are no longer safe when they go outside. It seems that if they are out at night, they are attracted to light and reflective surfaces, thus windows (when the light is on in the house), storefronts, mirrors, porches, and so on. There is one point where I start to go outside during the afternoon (seemingly from the kitchen in Clayfield, though that door led into the hallway in real life) and one flies at my head in the doorway but I am not harmed. Instead, the butterfly damages itself in the attack and actually falls apart into about four pieces shortly after fluttering around outside the building.

There is a point where I am walking around with many other people. Over time, I am drinking a lot of carbonated pink lemonade (which is a product made from the mashed-up bodies of the pink butterflies), which tastes very good. It is similar to the real soda we sometimes buy but sweeter. It has a very strong taste in the dream. As I am walking around in an open field, a young male who is walking with his girlfriend asks for a taste. I give him the bottle but he immediately does not like the flavor, comparing it to some sort of Chinese beer - Tsingtao; a reference I do not understand. When I go to take another drink myself, I feel wary about drinking from the same bottle that another male just had. I worry that he might have a disease, but this idea fades after a time (especially as he seems okay and is walking around with someone else) when the scene changes.

The authorities set up some sort of trap for the butterflies that is an area between two buildings on wooden columns (similar in appearance to our present home but much larger). It is early evening but not fully dark out. People are supposed to stand around as “bait” until the large swarm of butterflies approaches close enough to be destroyed by the authorities - not sure how (fire perhaps). At the last minute, everyone is to crawl under the buildings as the authorities take action.

They soon approach and there are hundreds of them. I crawl under the building as a few people are directly attacked. It does not take that long before the task is completed.

When I crawl out, I find that I am still holding a bottle of carbonated pink lemonade (which I am drinking throughout the dream at almost every point). I notice that a television film crew is in the area and they want to film me in an unscripted commercial promoting it. I happily comply even though my clothes and hair are in disorder from being under the building in the dirt. I guess not that many people buy the product.

Morning of September 12, 2014. Friday.



I am seemingly disembodied and hovering over an unusual scene of a mostly featureless landscape, perhaps about twenty feet up. Downward and to my left is a wide and winding river. Down and to my right is a black male of about thirty or less and seated on the mostly sandy ground. He seems very cheerful in watching the river’s flow. After a short time, I notice that the water takes on an unusual property, as if it is “more than water”. It almost seems to be a living consciousness on at least the surface of the river as if certain water droplets form one mirror-like and darker material that is “faster” and more “solid” (but still liquid) in a molecular sense. In a sense, it is as if I am seeing “compressed time”, that is, what the river’s surface looks like in totality over about ten minutes or so as perceived in a moment. The time I am in is normal, but the river has pockets of “compressed time” on its surface and also seems “alive” somehow (but in a higher sense that is “more than alive”), like a superior entity.

Morning of September 10, 2014. Wednesday.



My oldest son seems to be about five years younger than in real life (being eighteen in reality). It is very late at night, around midnight or after, and it starts to dawn on me that I should check on him, as he had been gone too long and should have been back at least a half hour ago. I think it has something to do with getting a textbook. I start to worry a bit and feel that I had better look for him now.

I go out on the porch and notice two people, possibly typical drunks, in some sort of pointless verbal confrontation in the street although they do not pay much attention to me as I leave the house. (This part of my dream seems to “reset” and repeat.)

Eventually, as I walk about three blocks due south from the west side of my house, I start to call his name fairly loudly, as the business building I had assumed him to be at is closed, dark, and locked up. I shout mostly to the west and there is an area that looks a bit like the dilapidated shed (including the missing walls) at our last address on Barolin Street. Soon, I see him emerge and approach me, but then collapse at about halfway the distance. He had a cellphone, oddly enough, and had already called for an ambulance. When the ambulance arrives (which is shortly after I am aware of the call having been made) I learn that a panther had supposedly attacked him, but the (unknown) female attendant reports that it is “just a scratch”. It seems he will be fine shortly.

(I was once attacked by a hybrid bobcat in real life and the injury seemed worse than it was at first - thus this also seems like a typical anniversary “replay” in one layer, but many years difference here. This is something I have noticed time and time again with dreams, but more obvious with recognized holidays such as Christmas, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, and so on.)

Morning of September 8, 2014. Monday.



I am in some sort of underground chamber with a group of people. We had somehow gotten to the area in a van (going down an inclined road inside a cave or some such). At some points I seem disembodied but at other points I am more integrated with the flow of my dream. The main character, a younger male of perhaps about thirty, has found a large skeleton key of nearly two feet long. It has a texture (very slightly bumpy) and color similar to an old-fashioned black skillet and has a few patches of rust, the patches primarily of somewhat of an elongated diamond shape. It apparently leads to treasure and an ancient city where one may still be able to live and thrive.

He manages to open a secret wall by using the key. The opened wall leads to the abandoned underground city and there is likely to be valuable treasure and even special foods to sustain anyone who travels into the region. However, some sort of geological events (including at least one geyser) are beginning, making it difficult to continue. Some sort of gas and ash, possibly volcanic, begins to be present in the area. The others are concerned about leaving the idea of exploration for later. The male seems to vanish after he goes into what may be an unstable area, possibly killed by falling rocks.

It is then known that the key he found was possibly some sort of “decoy” and was not of the most valuable potential. I walk over to a rectangular rock that is somewhat diagonal and on a larger rock. I sort of absentmindedly tap the rock (as if entering a code on invisible buttons), expecting something to happen (not sure what) and a smaller rectangular groove appears and turns into a small “door” that slides back to reveal an oversize shiny gold key, also about two feet long as the first was (as if some sort of advanced technology was involved and built into the rock to reveal the hidden key with the right focus). The door is then gone and the rock is again seamless but with the key on the outside. This is the right key, so I take it.

The cavernous area is filling with supposedly poisonous ash and one male seems to be slightly ill from the increasing toxic particulates (being more affected than the others for some reason - perhaps in having asthma), but we are able to leave in the van, deciding what to do about the artifact. Apparently, the key opens the door to paradise or even “Heaven” (in a different area of the cavern), but one person suggests it should be put in a museum instead and that seems to become the present choice (though by people not really in charge - I seem to be in charge now) even though it will lead to treasure and healing. My dream loses cohesion from that point though I get the sense of a room full of light being available to explore now.

Morning of September 5, 2014. Friday.



There is a brief scene that a rather unusual and thin version of Johnny Cash is in my kitchen in the house on Stadcor Street in Brisbane. He does not talk or do much of anything and mostly stands near the wall facing a fictional counter that is perpendicular to the one in reality (dreams seem to shift and mirror things like this quite often). Someone seems to understand that he is supposed to be dead but there is no further unusual conversation and my dream slowly shifts into focus on a different (unknown) male named John. My dream becomes a typical meandering composite and is mostly impersonal.

There is apparently an incidental invisible doorway into another dimension or alternate parallel world near the central area of a mostly featureless open area in a large park, where people play touch football informally and such. A male has accidentally come through this doorway and is slightly confused at the differences of this world compared to his and is not sure what he should do.

Meanwhile, coincidentally, another version of him in this world has gone to rob a bank and to hold hostages. He looks exactly the same as the other version from the other world. He has a mustache and a smaller beard like a goatee, and a five o'clock shadow on the sides of his face where he normally shaves.

The other version of the man decides to become a part of this world by doing some sort of Jewish ritual for some reason (religion does not seem to exist in the other world, and there also does not seem to be any differences in social status anywhere or larger conflicts). The person puts his hand on a book at a table with an unknown female while she says some unknown phrases and he then wears some sort of special ritualistic clothes including some sort of scarf with a Magden David that goes around his shoulders. (However, “Magden David” is distorted in-dream to “Magdalene David” - possibly implying Catholic nuances as well.) Apparently he wants to become a part of this world as well as still go back to his at times, though there is a concern about whether or not he will inform others of his kind about the invisible doorway.

Later, I am at the bank with the other male. I bravely go in to see what I can do to stop the bank robbery and hostage situation. He is seated at a desk, seemingly holding a gun to an older female, possibly a personnel director. I create a supposedly clever lie about the doppelgänger circumstances and inform him that he has a twin brother instead. He does not believe me at first (and I even mention something about a DNA test), but then the version of him from the other world shows up and the male from this world seems very moved by learning of this. He decides to turn himself in in discovering that he has a (fictional) “twin brother” (even though it is not a real genetic twin but an “alien” doppelgänger) and eventually seems quite happy and surprised about it. I do not feel guilty in any way about the deception. The other male does not know about the other world at all and accepts the “twin brother” situation.

Morning of August 30, 2014. Saturday.



An earlier part of my dream seems to reflect a typical “finding books” dream where various books (including magazines) have been discarded near smaller stores and I look for items of interest. At one point, though, I am in an area late at night near an alley while a few other (unknown) people are around. My wife is with me. There is something about either going home or possibly to another location we may be temporarily living at and leaving with two heavy seemingly cloth or burlap bags of which I am not sure of the contents - possibly generic personal belongs or the results of scavenging - but the bags are quite heavy. I have the idea that I will just fly to where we need to go.

I tell my wife to get onto my back as I hold a bag on each side. Each bag almost reaches the ground when held up by each hand. The other people watch as I then fly into the sky effortlessly and with a sense of freedom. This becomes the typical recurring scene of flying over the streets of the city late at night, though I am not sure of the location. Though I had felt the heavier weight while still on the ground, once I focus on the flight, it is as if everything is primarily weightless. It is a very long, enjoyable flight.

There is another section where I am with a younger version of my wife and another unknown female. We seem to all be on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed though not much happens other than my wife seeming to read from an (unknown) book which I think is about geography and possibly with aspects of politics.

Eventually, there is a strange developing plot regarding the usage of kidnapped people taken to an island to be slaves. I remember the ride in the airplane, and how most of us soon escape. We run down a long straight dirt road (with higher weeds on each side) to a more open area near a lake. It seems like one or two persons drown while trying to stay unseen, but this is not certain. We hide behind the reeds near water’s edge as the kidnappers, being a large military group, search the other side of the lake. I do not seem to be bothered much as I am not afraid, but perhaps not directly focused on the potential danger of being caught again.

Eventually, others and I watch the long line of soldiers going back fairly swiftly to the area we all escaped from because of unknown aircraft being detected and approaching the island. The direction they are going is to my left as we hide in the weeds though I am not sure of compass direction. Airplanes fly over the buildings in the distance but only partly (at first) seem to be related to an attempted rescue. Someone asks me “Did you see that?” when bombs start to fall and destroy all of their buildings and eventually all of those involved with the kidnappings - however, there seems to be a caution or wariness regarding the group that seemingly is there to rescue us (they may perhaps not even know about the implemented slavery) and so we stay in the weeds as the scene loses cohesion.

There is one more switch to a different section where a (unknown) girl is talking about Abraham Lincoln while standing outside in an unknown area (though possibly implied to be near the house I presently live in). She is reading lines from a book and continuously saying (after each and every phrase) “Lincoln lied abut that” (with an unemotional matter-of-fact increasing emphasis on “that” each time). This gets to be a bit monotonous. Finally, she said “Lincoln smiled…”, followed yet again by “Lincoln lied about that” (implying that he was not smiling even though he was, which does not make that much sense at this point).

Morning of August 28, 2014. Thursday.



At the time I was experiencing this very vivid dream, the house next door was being partly demolished by continuous extremely loud hammering and scraping in the kitchen with a tool dropping every couple of minutes (which went on for about six hours - this had also occurred last Friday for about eight hours).

As I am lying in bed in-dream, I notice that to my right, instead of my wardrobe, is seemingly a closer wall of the house with a large recess about three feet up from the floor and some of the area implied to be below the floorboards. A large mouse comes out, with longer fur than normal. Farther in is an additional opening, somewhat circular (but irregular) and difficult to discern and which possibly leads to an underground tunnel - there is not much light inside. Small details of plumbing are vaguely visible or considered. Another large mouse is eventually visible. Soon, however, a baboon-like creature of about the size of a medium-sized dog, though somewhat cream-colored and with vaguely badger-like patterning on head and feet, grabs each mouse, one at a time, and quickly eats it, swallowing it whole. I am somewhat surprised and wary but not really afraid. I turn to the left to mention this event to my wife. For a short time, I hold on to our pet cat which comes into the room, as I get the impression our cat might be eaten by the creature if it goes too close to the recess.

The area has a dirt floor and I seem to be aware that the creature had been continuously feeding on larger mice and perhaps birds for a time. At one point, he is on all fours and is so fat that his stomach and entire torso drags on the ground. He does not seem to be a threat and I do not even sense any danger, as it seems “obvious” that he would not leave the area closer to the secondary entrance. This would not be feasible in reality, as the area would not be big enough and the bathroom is on the other side of the wall that, again, is farther away in real life. However, in afterthought, it is almost as if the side of my wardrobe had a cave-like area to a secret part of the house (partly underground). The layout, as with many dreams, is not feasible, though.

Curiously, I am not aware (at first) of the hammering while in the dream state, although I do often hear real-life sounds “scripting” the dream. The dream eventually loses cohesion and morphs into another less vivid dream of a false-awakening where I am continuously talking to my wife about the person next door and his constant noise and calling him various rude names. I can hear him replying (though not yelling) but cannot make out much of what he is saying (in an only slightly frustrated tone).

It seems fairly obvious that the distorted baboon and the badger-like nuances represented how I “saw” the person next door and how he was intruding on our lives at the time; the “impossible” fatness, however, probably relating to the presence of the louder noise.

Morning of August 26, 2014. Tuesday.



This is one of those typical dreams of discovering a hidden or previously unexplored room in the house, more common since around age thirty or so. Such rooms are usually filled with things previous tenants had left behind, usually intentionally (implying they had been discarded or forgotten about) although sometimes items are still possibly wanted but yet unclaimed. The items are often old books (often paperback novels), post cards, documents, letters (in envelopes), receipts, order forms, old newspapers, family photographs, notebooks and binders, comic books, and so on, but often with other items such as random knick knacks, and even clusters of plastic flowers or old automobile tires and sometimes clothes.

This dream slowly moves into that theme when I go to find a bathroom in the house we are living in now and discover it is very different and seemingly more in the central area of the house. As I go down to use the toilet, I start to contemplate whether or not it is actually a toilet - as it consists of a large rock-pool-like area under the floorboards (which for a short time seems like some sort of potentially partly dysfunctional temporary plumbing). The water is flowing southward, mostly under a smaller horizontal recess or alcove, and I get the impression of exploring the area since there soon seems to be a larger cave-like recess after a time (as if the environment is gradually changing as I watch - it even seems a bit mystical for a time). Soon, there are several other people around, mostly unknown, a few possibly relatives. My wife eventually comes into the large additional room that I go into that now suddenly seems fully accessible even though it had not originally seemed to have a doorway anywhere. As I do not recall having seen this (fictional) room under the house before, I decide to see what it is about.

There is first concern about water damage to anything that was there for so long, as the room is apparently filled with water much of the time, but oddly, this is not the case. There are a large number of paperback books in at least five rows on one large longer shelf to the right of the entrance and a few other areas with storage boxes and single shelves. There is a series of vases with plastic flowers on the opposite end. There are boxes of documents and old receipts and a lot of old magazines, the columns of boxes filling much of the large room mostly about three-high (and there does seem to be a few old clothes here and there, some sticking out of the boxes). Annoyingly, yet creating an atmosphere of humor in-dream, I ask “Where are the comic books?” One unknown female seems amused by what almost seems like fake anger on my part. However, I am actually disappointed that out of hundreds of magazines and old newspapers and documents (as well as all the paperback novels on the larger bookshelf) that there are no comic books, although it is eventually thought there are random ones here and there below other items.

I then look over some of the paperback books in the bookshelf. A lot of the books seem to be in a series, most about a particular animal. A couple of the books remind me of “Halic, the Story of a Gray Seal” by Ewan Clarkson, which I had gotten on my eleventh birthday yet did not read until several years later (just prior to my family moving to Wisconsin again). They seem to be a continuation of the story (the focus possibly also related to having seen last night with my wife Slicker the seal in the 1941 movie “Topper Returns” which also featured hidden rooms).

Oddly, I notice that, in every paperback novel (each of which has a few simple sketches here and there, mostly of a particular animal, some images just a head profile) two or three letters of every line is missing along each margin on every page. Some of these missing letters had been filled in rather sloppily in pencil by the previous owner of the books, but fairly sparsely. This is also the way they were published - by intent. Apparently, you have to pay a fee by some sort of subscription membership where you then receive lists, over a longer time period, of the missing letters so that you can write them in and more easily read the contents of the book. It is also implied though, that some of the letters are based on the answers to related simple “puzzles” you have to buy additionally in other books or single documents. This sounds to me like some sort of idiotic scam for simpletons, vaguely reminding me of the fairly common but fake “code-breaking” tasks where you just copy letters from the given numbers rather than having to solve anything. I am annoyed by the books being like this, but there is not much I can do except wonder if the lists of missing letters are in a box somewhere in the cellar-like room - or - I could possibly work out most of each page without any aid. (For some reason, it also vaguely makes me think of cryptic puzzle contests where the supposed “answers” are written afterwards so that less or no prize money needs to be distributed based on the “answers” that were sent in by the public.)

There are also a couple piles of PAIA (Pan-American-Indian-Association) newspapers, some of which I had never seen before.

This is based mostly on real-life associations. I often see newspapers in archives where a word or two is missing from every line along a margin in the graphic images (rendering it mostly unreadable and pointless), caused by a curve in the paper when on the scanner and the person not bothering to make sure it is flat.

Morning of August 23, 2014. Saturday.



I am back at the King Street boarding house (where I have not lived for over twenty years) as part of the recurring concept of being there “secretly” for the most part; that is, without the owners (who live downstairs), particularly the landlady, knowing I am there. This is usually due to not having lived there for awhile or not having paid rent for a month or more.

In this case though, it is a fictional room on the second floor. It is on the west side of the building, but immediately at the northwest corner, where the kitchen is in reality. It is also about twice the size of any of the real rooms. It seems very “real” in-dream though and does not seem like a mirror-image reversal (regarding the whole house being mirror-imaged in directional layout as dreams sometimes do) of the northeast room, as the northwest corner area seems like part of a normal room rather than part of a cupola (the corner being shaped as a partial polygon in reality) - and also as three windows go across the north wall in-dream. I do not notice any windows on the west wall. My brother Jim is alive again and visiting me. Dennis (still alive in reality) is also there. We are apparently watching television (which faces east and is somewhat near the center of the room) which seems to be an older episode of the original “Star Trek” series, but the picture is not that clear. After a time, I notice an antenna lead (the old flatter twin-lead type), somewhat coppery brown, going up and around the room and to the opposite corner and I am thinking it would be good if I was able to connect it to the television somehow. At this time, I notice that the room is very slightly L-shaped.

I also notice that, at the south wall, the antenna lead seems detached on one side but is also wrapped in packaging tape in the spliced area (thus, though the tape is holding the two leads together, one side is still detached under the tape). I am aware that this setup was done by the elderly landlord. (I do not remember in-dream that he had actually died over twenty years ago, as I had also gone to his funeral.) I cannot reach any of the lead, though, as most of it is attached along the highest parts of three walls near the ceiling.

I mention this idea about me connecting the lead somehow by placing a chair on the large table with metal legs (which is along the north wall) and Jim happily offers to do it instead. He places the chair on the table after climbing up on it and successfully pulls part of the lead down while standing on the chair (I am somewhat amazed by how strong the table is to support his weight without incident). I am able to get it to work, but “Star Trek” is ending and a different show comes on. It is an odd kid’s show called “Tellagogo” of which I vaguely seem to be aware of the spelling (though it might be better formed as “Telegogo” as a play on “television” - in fact, I have discovered this word actually exists but do not know anything about it). The dream soon loses cohesion after this.



It occurs to me that much of this dream may be symbolic to simply trying to “connect my senses” to wake up - as the television was on at the time in reality with my youngest son watching it. The lead being mostly disconnected on one side probably relates to my conscious mind still not “getting the signal” from the real world - the evidence is that the television show went from “Star Trek” (suggesting a fantasy world) to a kid’s show (which was actually on in the real world at the time - thus I was then waking from the dream successfully after more fully linking my conscious awareness).

This reminds me just a little of a dream of about twenty years ago where I had an audio loop going (on a digital sampler with a held down key by way of the cord over it and under the two opposite keys) that was designed to bring about lucidity in-dream. I became fully lucid in the resulting dream, but then spent the rest of the time trying to find the source of the sound to turn it off. I eventually found that it was behind a locked door in-dream (as part of a long hallway), and became so annoyed, I eventually woke up out of one of the more lucid dream states I have ever been in. Pure irony and hilarity.

Morning of August 22, 2014. Friday.



In my dream, my family and I are living in La Crosse in the Loomis Street house. Over time, there is annoying noise from our neighbor’s house to the north.

Living in that house is an unfamiliar black male of about fifty and his two young sons. While the man is in his house, Zsuzsanna tells the boys to stop bouncing a larger ball on our house, which is mostly upon the outer north wall near where the bathroom would be in reality. I later go out and tell them it is okay to play, because I notice they are in their backyard and I do not want them to perceive me as mean. (The distance between the houses is wider in my dream, as in real life, there was barely enough space to walk between the houses.) This dream features a recurring false setup of the Loomis Street fence being chain-link instead of wood.

I later falsely remember that Zsuzsanna’s “other husband” (though without a marriage relationship) is living with us. He is an average-looking Caucasian Australian man of about forty, slightly balding. I aggressively command him to leave, yet at the same time feel I am being somewhat mean, though I also wonder why I had allowed this situation to exist in the first place.

Later, Zsuzsanna seems to be a young version of Barbara Bain. She appears to be an android at first but is not, as she is apparently wearing a robotic suit. The “other husband” and I try to remove some of the exoskeleton while in the living room, apparently to replace a medication that otherwise circulates within the shell of the suit, as she supposedly wears the exoskeleton to keep her healthy and strong and to filter the air. I become unsure of the situation. The suit seems to go haywire and we have to dismantle it on the couch, becoming annoyed, as Barbara teleports to the roof of the neighbor’s house to the south, and stands there gazing back at this house. I remain unsure of the situation, as she seems to still be wearing a robotic suit, though the one I and the other male are left with seemingly needs to be completely dismantled into small pieces, several pieces looking like larger hypodermic needles as my dream loses cohesion. There seems to be “part of her” left in the suit that we dismantle, though this part may be Juliet Landau, though as my dream ends, there is not much remaining.

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Much of this dream’s content was caused by a subliminal attempt to resolve the source of the real-life noise next door, where they had been rebuilding parts of the house. The absence of a viable connection to the unconscious mind and conscious self identity while sleeping (and in a non-lucid dream) resulted in minimal threads of my current conscious self identity (such as the recall of being married, though not with recall of living in Australia) being ambiguously mixed with a place I have not lived in years, as is typically the case.

Barbara Bain was confused with Zsuzsanna by my dream self because of both having the same birthdays of September 13, though there is much more. Barbara’s daughter Juliet Landau has a surname very similar to mine. Additionally, September 13 was the date in the opening of “Space 1999”, which I often watched in my youth. Juliet also starred in “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, which Zsuzsanna and I watched often. Barbara’s character in “Space 1999” is Helena, which is Zsuzsanna’s mother’s name.

The robotic suit and teleportation, in addition to being associated with the typical vestibular system correlation as the main factor of being in the dream state, also has the factor of trying to “escape” from the environmental noise while sleeping. I am more so perceiving my desire for Zsuzsanna to be away from the noise, and to be protected from it, though ultimately, it is not possible.

It is typical for fences to be different in dreams than real life, sometimes missing, sometimes being where they are not in reality, and in this case, a chain-link fence (that provides much more visibility in my dream’s setting) instead of a more solid wooden one (which allows hardly any visibilty from a distance in reality). The chain-link fence was there to fit into the fictitious nature of my dream for dream scenario convenience.

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I explain this dream type further in “Dreams of Type PRECONAV-VSCPCEL, 01-15”.

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Morning of August 13, 2014. Wednesday.



In the first part of the dream there is something wrong with the moon. It has something to do with the orbit becoming more eccentric in a potentially disastrous sense. Parts of it come off and will possibly later be a threat to Earth. I am outside in an unknown area and some younger people throw rocks at it relative to some suggestions made previously. The rocks actually go into the sky and into space, fixing (by getting stuck in random areas) some of the holes on the moon - but making a few others worse. However, I still see a cluster of three holes in the moon that stars can clearly be seen through. (My guess is that part of this relates to seeing images in old comic books and some pop culture designs which imply that a crescent moon has stars in front of the unseen part of the otherwise round moon. This has always struck me as quite naïve - even as a child.) In the dream, the three holes in the moon (that go all the way through to the other side, although the perspective would not imply seeing the stars through the holes in reality) do not seem to be that much of a problem or a potential for cataclysm.

Later, I am back on Gellibrand Street in Brisbane where my family and I used to live and what was our first apartment. The bed is on the enclosed front porch, oriented longways to the room’s layout, though it seems there is another room in front of that one, the fictional door being to my left when I am lying in the bed rather than at the other end and going into the open hall of the building as it does in reality.

Over time, I realize that there is a married couple also in the bed to my right but they are asleep for a time. Crawling on the ceiling above are three giant beetles clustered together (seemingly two of them mating) and moving down from the ceiling a short distance but then crawling on it again. They look the most like patent-leather beetles (or “Jerusalem beetles”). They may be eating the wood in the ceiling, though I believe that they are venomous and harmful to people (though I also sense that a part of me is “making that up”). The man of about forty, who is black, looks up at the ceiling but does not seem that concerned (though a bit surprised at first) as I tell him they are dangerous (and I have the vague idea that they may eat people, though again there is the idea that the concern is not quite legitimate). In fact, when all three of them fly down in a threatening manner, he casually knocks them to the floor with his right arm, all at the same time somehow. They each are about the size of a cat (though they seemed bigger at first). They are then somewhere on the right side of the bed (on the floor), but nothing happens after this and I no longer see them. The female on the other side does not wake up the whole time.

Morning of August 9, 2014. Saturday.



I am incorporeal as I often am in impersonal or spectator-type dreams (and there is no discernible emotion, either), especially when watching from a distance. I have no in-dream association with the location. I am just looking at the outside of a high building (more than ten feet out, apparently hovering in the air) that could be anywhere in any city. I am not sure if it is a business building or apartment building but it does look more modern and with some commercial implications such as ferns in large white cylindrical vases near one open area at the end of a large hall. There are two sets of elevator systems on the outside of the building, it seems, but there is no logic to their apparent function due to the fact that the entire elevator system is vertically layered. Thus if you are on an outermost (secondary) elevator, an inner elevator (closest to the outer opening of the building) must be on your floor as well before you can enter the building onto that floor by additionally going through the inner elevator after leaving the more outer one, and of course, the doors have to be open in both.

The elevators seem to have mostly glass or at least transparent walls, though I also see a horizontal silvery metal beam (of about ten inches or so) around the perimeter of each elevator at about a third of the way up from the floor and I think the walls below that are translucent (or only semitransparent). The elevator is crowded with at least a dozen people dressed both formally and informally. It stops at a floor higher up but no one gets out due to the fact that the inner elevator on that floor is full of various larger animals, one each, including a bear and a wolf, possibly a tiger, and also an owl flying about inside. There then seems to be a second inner elevator near the ground floor, also full of animals, including even a rhinoceros and a lion and possibly an egret or stork. The elevator with the people also stops on that floor but no one gets out or makes an attempt to change positions. This happens a couple times; they go up and then down. The animals do not leave the other elevators, either.

I suspect that at least some of this was partially triggered by a very annoying recent television commercial which I have seen several times - where it shows three people in an elevator near the end, each with animal heads; a dog, a frog, and a horse - and it relates to some sort of throat or cold medicine, I think (I really do not pay much attention to commercials relative to what is being advertised). The commercial ends with the woman with the horse head then having her human head back after the medicine supposedly takes effect. However, walking from the elevator and down the hall, she makes a loud, fluttery “horse sound”, much like a “raspberry” (which actually implies, at least to me, that the medicine was not effective; most television commercials these days actually turn me off from buying or even relating to the product in any way).