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Morning of June 3, 1973. Sunday.



I am with an unknown attractive girl (about my age) in a car (in some dreams such as this, I was “already” in a car, but it was very rare for me to fit in a car when wanting to drive it or to get into it, or a taxi, etc. It sometimes even eventually turned into a shoe). We are trying to engage in romance, but the car is going in a circle and making us annoyed, as we really want to leave the old dusty (and mostly featureless) warehouse we are in and go elsewhere, primarily to a meadow or perhaps to the top of a hill. A very tall insect-like “human” (with reptile nuances) with spider-web-like eyes (and very small pupils and irises) is making the car go in a circle with some sort of mind control on his part as he waves his hand somewhat like a puppet-master (with the implied otherwise invisible “strands” that control the car). The “demon” reminds me much of a cartoon monster from a Marvel comic book - it seems of the same overall design. Part of this is also probably a play on “sex drive” when I heard it with negative connotations at a prior date.

As it was fairly common for negative energies to stop romantic potential during some earlier dream trends, thus I soon began to see people who associated sexuality - especially relative to dream content - with anything “wrong” or “dirty” (other than a realistic natural caution in real life, of course, but anything is possible in dreams, including total sexual freedom) as completely wrong or simply ignorant - as those were the only types of characters that were non-involving as such or even completely ignorant of feminine anatomy (sometimes, though, in real life, they would tell jokes that proved they did not know anything about feminine anatomy - it was pretty strange being around such people - I could not laugh at an idiotic “wrong” joke that made no sense and so ironically was seen as less worldly even though I was more worldly at that age).

I think it is very important to note here that it was a “dream demon” who was stopping us from our romantic scenario, not trying to instigate it or encourage us. Interesting, yes? And what do you think that implies? I think it relates to being wrongfully influenced mentally (about physical contact, especially in a personal dream) by mainstream mythology concerning religion. As the car is going in circles it may also relate to circular logic in false religious arguments.

Morning of May 5, 1973. Saturday.



In my dream, I have access to a blue-gray spacecraft that is primarily egg-shaped, and I seem to become a part of the apparent NASA setup after being a “giant” in an earlier scene that was in my Cubitis living room (though I do not recall shrinking or much of the backstory). The events all seem to be taking place at night. The spacecraft is called “CAT 58-A”. It eventually seems that Cat 58-A is my rocket-ship though I do not actually fly in it at any point though I do sit inside it a few times as well as walk around the outside of it at the supposed NASA testing site. The site has semitrailer trucks and what looks like power transformers.

Morning of April 29, 1973. Sunday.



The original title switched from “Pandora’s Box” to “Little Devils” and back and forth again over time in my extensive childhood journals.

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In my dream, I am in my father’s room in the northeast corner. The white dresser aligned to the north has a large box on it, which I first think is perhaps a treasure chest. It looks quite old. Soon, though, I am semi-lucid and thinking that it is probably Pandora’s Box. I am not certain, though. After puzzling on it for several minutes, I open the chest and back up. Hundreds of mosquitoes fly out of it, but they seem to have human-like cartoon-like faces. Even though they fly out at me and towards me, it is as if I am phased out from the scene while watching, and there is no threat as they seem to fly through or past me to the south.

I am clearly aware that this is a scene directly from Revelations 9:9, 9:10, and so on (“They had breastplates like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their wings was like the thundering of many horses and chariots rushing into battle” and “They had tails with stingers, like scorpions, and in their tails they had power to torment people for five months”), which is supposedly exactly the same story as “Pandora’s Box” in my dream (but of course, it is not in reality). One of the lead “demon mosquitoes” has the face of Hot Stuff from Harvey comics (and many of the other “insects” have similar faces), but a bit paler and almost clown-like, with its tongue sticking out. here is no real fear, just a sense of mild eeriness and a realization of pure silliness in the back of my mind.

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In this dream, I instigate the waking transition myself. There is no threat and I already seem “apart from my dream” while only being aware of the feature of the Hot-Stuff-like “insects”, some of which otherwise resemble clown faces (similar to what I had perceived on a Florida canna lily caterpillar). This dream renders several different waking precursor components simultaneously, flight from the dream state, coalescence (implied - I am never covered by the swarm), opening a box, and the primarily red, orange, and yellow representing sunrise (or more correctly the paths of rays of sunlight in this particular dream). The focus on red in a dream usually means I have been sleeping just a bit too long, which turned out to be true in this case (and was especially true for my dream “Red Rays of the Sun”).

Morning of April 28, 1973. Saturday.



As with most of my online dream journal entries, this was the original title when first recorded in 1973.

There is a white convertible (early 1960s Cadillac) that travels north down Highway Seventeen (this is the most outstanding dream element other than the house itself). It is an unfamiliar car to me (in terms of knowing anyone who has one) and seems to be part of a movie scene. I view the scene directly from above at first from a sort of skewed perspective to the right (not quite “two o'clock”) rather than as straight from “top” to “bottom”, again, from an implied straight down from above camera view. As the “movie” unfolds, it seems to relate to a haunted house on the opposite side of the highway from my Cubitis home, slightly north and between my family’s and Brenda W’s home in distance.

However, there is more to it than that. Not only is the house “haunted”, it actually moves around on its own, and seems to imply that the house is “alive”, as if it is some sort of slug-like creature with a man-made house as its “shell”. A few people seem to vanish in town, and some detective work is done. In fact, a main aspect of the fictional “movie” seems to focus on detectives and their ideas about what the house really “is”.

Later on, another unknown person comes to town and is able to “stabilize” the house somehow. It then turns out that the house was not really haunted in any sense, but was simply moving to different areas relating to the environment and how many people were in a given area at any one time. Thus, it is sort of like the “opposite” of a haunted house in that it was “afraid” of people or at least wary (for example, it had a tendency to “crawl away” if too many cars were parked in a specific area). The people who had supposedly vanished were living in the house as a sort of “vacation” from other people in the region with no threatening aspects from the “house creature”.

In the last scene, a factory has been built in the area the house had been “grounded” in. Three chimneys are billowing black smoke. The outer walls of the house are slanted at about a forty-five degree angle away from the pollution and noise. It cannot get away, though. There is a sense of melancholy.

Part of this may have been some sort of play on “living room” to “living house”? It may also be vaguely linked to the song line “…and they all lived together in a crooked little house”.

Morning of April 7, 1973. Saturday.



I have come to realize that even this (much older) dream had at least one precognitive element; that is, a tag on an item when in a store to know when someone has stolen (or is trying to steal) the particular item - although the first time I saw something similar in real life was years later at the main library in Wisconsin, and later on, the usage of such a device in record and video stores and finally grocery stores (regarding my own experiences, anyway).

In my dream, I am in some sort of science-fiction movie called “Homing Magazines”, which is a play on “homing pigeons”, I take it. My dream features a “ridiculous” (at the time, at least to my family and me) idea that stores, including grocery stores, could tell when someone was taking something by causing a simple beeping (several years before it happened in real life, at least seemingly where I lived in a small rural area) by having some sort of tag on the item that can be activated or deactivated or have something over it (like a tinfoil sticker or some such) to “turn it off” - a sort of “scanner”.

There were a few versions of this dream. The first one was a mix of science-fiction and crime drama, where the store (similar to something I saw quite later in real life, so that is another precognitive facet) made a claim that their prices were much higher due to shoplifting, which seemed obnoxious, kind of like the mentality of when the activities of one “class clown” results in the whole class being punished.

The device also acts as some sort of homing beacon, which then actually causes the items to somehow fly back to the store or warehouse. Magazines move through the air late at night like magic carpets. A box of tacks opens, and with some sort of magnetic pattern, causes each individual tack to fly in formation like a large number of airplanes (or a flock of geese), point first. However, action figures only walk (not fly) back and toy cars drive back. Certain food items, like milk cartons, do fly back to one store, though. Pink-frosted doughnuts move through the night sky like miniature UFOs.

Eventually, it comes to the attention of the authorities that one store is taking everything back, but when people finally go to investigate, the store has moved to another location. I see various items moving through the air late at night to the new location. The new technology even senses people and their movements and speech and deliberately leads them to wrong locations. There is then a special crime lab that studies the “rogue technology” as they call it, although I am vaguely aware of the term “maverick tech”, possibly the name of the business that makes the illegal technology. This eventually causes all stores to drop theft-related technology and offer higher competition in their “loss leaders”.

Morning of March 3, 1973. Saturday.



The main influence had apparently been from watching “Mackenna’s Gold” (here being my first viewing). However, there were typical western elements (like a long wagon train) in-dream that did not really feature in the movie and seem more likely borrowed from “Gunsmoke” or elsewhere. There are large groups of men (cowboys) chaotically rolling around down through shallow canyons like some sort of singular mass of colors (I view this from a high place), like human hedgehogs meandering everywhere like an ocean wave over the dusty land, filling sections of the canyon four people high - and wagons that expand like balloons and flutter out like sails in some areas on the sidelines - hundreds of men traveling by rolling around randomly down the sides of hills, piled up and rolling off each other, instead of walking or riding a horse. Human beach balls.

I am in a covered wagon at times with an unknown dark-haired girl who is apparently sleeping, on the other side, but the ride is very bumpy though the wagon rocks gently at times as well. I look out through the front and see no driver or wagon master. It does not look quite right; almost like a random set of small thin timbers going out at odd angles into the trail ahead, including one going up into the sky and somehow staying in position. I only occasionally think I see one horse on one side. It is still going in the correct direction, I suppose.

Light shines and moves (like the headlights of a turning car - though there can be no cars, can there?) through the prairie schooner’s canvas at times. I begin to have contradicting thoughts that we are inside a Chinese dragon of the type one sees on Chinese New Year. It must be a parade where the wagons are connected and look like a probably colorful Chinese dragon on the outside. I do not seem to recall any back story for this situation. Still, it is fun as long as I do not have to be observed being inside the dragon’s stomach. People cheer. Was I eaten? I do not think so.

A man in a top hat walks into some sort of store. There are at least three shelves behind the counter. They are selling treasure maps. The treasure maps are large rolled-up carpet-like items, standing vertically on the shelf almost like rolls of material for dressmakers. The cheerful man waves with his right hand and approaches the counter to buy a treasure map, but the entire scene is (or becomes) more like a drawing from a 1940s magazine advertisement. Being static, it still seems like a real-life situation and “resets” a few times, though, again, like a page of a magazine (or perhaps a panoramic curtain print) stuck in front of me instead of a “real” and dynamic scene.

They are very strange treasure maps. I somehow attain my own. You have to roll it over the entire area (from the right beginning spot) in order to study the map and go to the area where the treasure is under a section of the map. Does it just get bigger and bigger? Distracting. Then the huge map lying over the land near a canyon is more like just newspaper. Perhaps a mistake was made (and I received a newspaper instead of a valuable map, or maybe the map had a newspaper section somewhere out at one corner). I stand on thin newspaper beyond the edge of a cliff and somehow do not fall. The giant, expansive newspaper loudly flutters in areas where it is somehow suspended horizontally in the air beyond the cliff; reminiscent of a cloak flapping in the wind for a time; the loudest sound around (it sounds like several people shaking open newspapers at the same time, with an interesting echo added to the effect, an echo that “falls” into the valley below). Looking out over the canyon, where does the newspaper end and where is the treasure map? Perhaps I should walk back onto solid ground or perhaps stay put. I feel rather embarrassed standing on the floating newspaper when the treasure is probably close to the store or nearby building.

Morning of February 17, 1973. Saturday.

Dream #: 2,252-02. Reading time: 1 min 15 sec.



I am in Cubitis in my backyard in the late morning but watching a documentary at the same time (as if by way of a dream within a dream). The airplane overhead stays in one area of the sky longer than would be possible. At times, I seem closer to the plane as if I am watching the scene.

I watch an experimental aircraft called the “Black Robin.” It looks like a soaring bird in design, with a curving pattern on the backs of the wings reminiscent of bird feathers. There are also false associations with an increase in car crashes in the region. These crashes are a result of lovebugs getting into the engines. (These are insects that fly around in twos, attached to each other’s tails. People typically cover their car’s grill with a screen during this time.)

The Black Robin, on its first trip with many tourists, is swarmed by lovebugs as they enter crucial areas to cause a malfunction, as well as obstructing the pilots’ views. The Black Robin is of the same orange and black (in the same proportions) as the insects. The airplane begins to smoke, and it crashes somewhere northeast of my home, probably in the cow pasture. There is a tribute parade in the town center, with cannons on some of the floats. Characters from “Gilligan’s Island” are in the parade.

Over time, the Black Robin and its crash is more of a supposed urban legend. I feel puzzled over this in my dream. It is as if the experimental airplane never existed, and the histories of the tourists aboard were covered up or forgotten.

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Part of this dream may have been influenced by the “Love and the Baby Derby” episode of “Love American Style” (from the night before on the 16th), with Bob Denver (of “Gilligan’s Island”). “Derby” rhymes with “Herbie” and Herbie is the “love bug.”

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Night of February 1, 1973. Thursday.



I am sleeping on my stomach on the carport roof of the Cubitis house, facing north, fairly close to the first trellis, not really noticing the large corrugated sections running east and west (which were very annoying and problematic to maneuver over in real life, especially barefooted), with my arms supporting my head, a bit unrealistically too far out from the edge of the roof (as if my upper body is supported by an intangible surface). It is late at night, and there is a slight odor of smoke, probably from the west though also likely underneath me in the side yard. I cannot remember when I decided to sleep up here as it is not Friday (dream logic - though I typically did not mess around on the roof on school nights in reality) though it is curiously not that cold for the winter.

Either the Virginia Dare colony or the gypsies from “The Valley of Gwangi”, or perhaps both, are camped out at the southern periphery of the orange grove. It seems like a good way to survive for awhile - in eating Harold M’s oranges. In the distance behind me (mostly southeast?), John Boy Walton is hollering (almost inaudibly from my position though) about the inferiority of strangers (and the fact that only the Waltons are actually real people) and the superiority of Walton’s Mountain. I feel like climbing down, finding him, and punching him a few times, but I mostly remain relaxed, probably because I also sense that a tyrannosaurus will soon eat him in mid-speech (or perhaps the father of Virginia Dare will shoot him - I sense he has already been shot once under similar circumstances). However, in a drastic change of mood, John Boy decides that the Virginia Dare colony belongs on Walton’s Mountain. They are possibly intangible ghosts.

It also eventually occurs to me that the Virginia Dare colony was eaten by the tyrannosaurus from “The Valley of Gwangi” and I cannot understand why that had not been widely published in the newspapers. I know there is a tyrannosaurus around, but I somehow also know that he will not be in the immediate area at any point. I hear Harold M shooting at random dinosaurs briefly with his rifle (likely from a lawn chair on his very small mostly enclosed patio where he usually shoots at foxes and crows in reality), with an odd unrealistically distant echo, and cussing about his oranges being pilfered. Meanwhile, John Boy Walton dons a fox mask, which thus (automatically) makes him the new sheriff and so he can find the rest of Virginia Dare’s relatives. I am disgusted and disturbed by Virginia Dare’s father (Ananias Dare) roasting the eohippus (from “The Valley of Gwangi”), or maybe it is not Ananias Dare but Matt Dillon (James Arness). I am angry about this, but it is too late to crawl down from the roof via the trellis and I am wary about the tough look on Matt’s (James’s) face.

Morning of January 1, 1973. Monday.



This was more towards just after one or two a.m., I think. I do not believe that there is any symbolic meaning or “message” other than typical meandering post-hypnagogic associations (though in my experience linked to random impersonal remote viewing or even foreshadowing). These are often solely incidental visual associations (relative to morphing), neither metaphorical (other than for the dreaming process itself, such as a clock becoming a bomb to stand for the process of waking up) or symbolic. Although such dreams may have beautiful imagery, I have never found them to have any personal significance and they seem to be a sort of Tetris effect relating to what was seen on television or elsewhere the previous day or in some cases, collective consciousness regarding a particular holiday mood.

A female toddler is standing and smoking an oversize cigarette in an undefined area (which I am not sure is indoors or outdoors though it seems more logically to be indoors, perhaps in a large hotel lobby). This act seems to make the immediate environment extraordinarily dirty with particulates of soot and even somehow causing small pieces of (mostly metallic) miscellaneous junk to fall or appear out of nowhere, such as very small broken springs, clock or wristwatch gears, and what may be broken parts of a toy plane and toy motorcycle. The toddler is also smudged with soot across her shoulders but happily puffs on the cigarette. The idea that smoking a cigarette will somehow cause tiny dirty springs and other tiny metal junk to fall from nowhere seems perfectly “normal” in-dream.

From here, I look more closely and realize that I am not seeing what I thought I was (though in actuality, it had in fact transformed). It is not a toddler, but a realistic doll (probably with a wind-up mechanism to move its right arm up and down to its face) and rather than smoking a cigarette it is blowing a New Year’s party horn (the kind that spiral out with a very annoying mid-range-pitched trumpet-like noise). Instead of falling soot, it is sparkling confetti (though there is an ambiguous association with real snow) that seems to be produced and somehow recycled (as a continuous display) by a machine. Instead of junk and broken clocks and toys, it is small wrapped presents which then take on a Christmas-like feel (even though it is after Christmas). I contemplate if I am viewing a new feature of “The Hall of Presidents” (Walt Disney World Resort).

This dream was related to a plane crash the prior Friday (which I had not really focused on), and a photograph which featured a “scarred doll lying in the mud” only seen after my dream, though this event may actually be coincidental as it lacks more personal detail and precision (for example, “automatic” association with Baby New Year, smoking, New Year party horn, etc.) "Eastern Air Lines Flight 401 was a Lockheed L-1011-1 Tristar jet that crashed into the Florida Everglades at 11:42 pm December 29, 1972, causing 101 fatalities.“ The question here is whether I was remote viewing the newspaper at one level or the actual scene (of the featured photograph)…OR…if it was visual (fractal-based) precognition relating to my individual path (and I had also physically been in that area in the recent past). Things like this are difficult if not impossible to attribute to just one unexplained mechanism (as most people try to do). (Even the extremely precise remote viewing of the Nancy comic strip on the morning of April 27, 1974 was discovered to have several additional unexplainable mechanisms at work - including a much older version of the same comic strip gag by the same artist - and validated associations I could not possibly have formed or linked consciously at any level.)

Morning of December 2, 1972. Saturday.



I am at some sort of business possibly on the second floor, in a large room, which seems like some sort of larger composite that includes my Cubitis bedroom. The orientation seems to be that I am looking south throughout my dream, associating it with my classroom as well (to a lesser extent).

Behind an unknown older male in a darker blue business suit who is standing near a large desk (about four times bigger than office desks I have seen in television shows and at school) is a very large wall-spanning map of the world. It looks a bit different at different times. There is also a large globe on the left that reminds me of a recent one I received as a combined birthday and Christmas (December 20th and 25th) package in the mail from my sister Carol.

The concept of whatever is going on is not very coherent. It is something to do with the “real” Atlas - the giant man that supposedly holds the planet Earth on his shoulders. I am not sure this is literal or some sort of metaphorical model but what I do know is that there is some sort of potential problem regarding the business (due to not operating twenty-four hours a day or some such) and something related to how the countries are to be displayed. This seems to be in regard to some sort of rental payment required to be displayed or acknowledged on the globe. At one point, the globe seems to be mostly only wire-framed and missing most of the surface detail due to the business doors being closed for Christmas vacation. I am not directly involved in anything.

There is a sense of misdirected wariness that this business may be making Atlas irritated so that some countries or regions may experience problems such as earthquakes or floods or that Atlas may become annoyed at having to observe long business meetings from wherever he actually is. Again, I am not sure how literal this association with the “real” Atlas is. However, the main theme seems to be that Atlas was doing fine until certain people “invaded” his day to day duty and turned it into a profiteering venture. There is even a lesser idea that a “rotational tax” has to be paid by everyone to keep the world turning on its axis, since they are the ones that claim they are keeping the world rotating (this seems to be in conflict with the static image of Atlas holding up the world - as such, how would it rotate?).

Morning of June 10, 1972. Saturday.



I am following train tracks for some reason, but after I walk for several minutes into a more isolated area, the tracks come to an end. There are a lot of trees and bushes around. There are no other people in this dream. It seems to be an unknown location, as well.

I come to an abandoned mansion. Looking around inside, I notice a young deer’s head as a trophy on the wall. I see the ghost of that deer, when looking through the doorway near the fireplace I am standing by; the deer ghost leaps over a few loose scattered boards in another room and leaves the area. Apparently, the mansion is haunted by the ghost of a deer, but there seems to be no real threat at all. I do not really feel bad in any way, but actually feel a sense of peace.

I feel now that there may be some sort of play on the train tracks ending - linked to the idea of the animal tracks and animal “ending”.

Night of January 22, 1972. Saturday.



There was a connection between an older dream of three witches and the later (last known version) “Straw House” dream. The “main”, extremely vivid (and semi-lucid) straw house dream was on January 22nd, 1972 (age 11) during the middle of the night. This version was influenced (mostly in “atmosphere”) by a vaguely similar scene from the television movie “Something Evil”, where the character of Marjorie Worden absentmindedly wanders through a large enclosed vineyard or nursery. In this highly aware state in my dream, I found myself moving towards a very large house made mostly of straw.

After entering this structure (somehow in order to “escape” from the three witches from a much older “anniversary-type” dream and who I do not actually see in this dream - I sense they are invisible and had followed me from a store in the town of Arcadia), I run swiftly through the seemingly infinite but narrow halls of straw (with a subtle doorway of additional minor detail every several feet) that glow with a very eerie radiance. I vividly feel the slapping of various strands of straw on my face as I run. I am not afraid at that point - it almost seems, eventually, like an unending state of freedom and beauty. It goes on and on for some time but I do not tire. I greatly enjoy the imagery and mental clarity and unusual lighting and atmosphere. After a time, however, I find myself emerging from the structure and see that it is actually quite small from the outside. From a deeper level, I find myself manifesting a Tyrannosaurus rex in a fairly close area. (It was very common for me to be aware of the mental creation of anything that chased or threatened me, with little exception other than a few apnea-based dreams, usually associated with a dragon - knowing that I did it on purpose either to thrill myself or to cause a change in dream awareness or even out of the urge to wake myself after “sleeping too long” - my most lucid attempt being the Pepto-Bismol-colored triceratops tulpa semi-dream and all-night dream states. I notice from the writings of others that most people seemingly do not have this memory of instigation - yet mine is often clear even in non-lucid dreams.)

Apparently, the dinosaur had been there all that time (false memory through my own awareness of instigation of such). This is similar to the older dream ending where I was in a store and the three very short, very old “witches” (wearing scarves over their heads and shawls, and all nearly identical) all carrying Easter baskets filled with food, and somewhat cartoon-like, walked near me, giggling (cackling) in a mischievous way. I ran from the store and there was also a tyrannosaurus that appeared near a lesser-used back-road. In both of these dreams (after self-instigating my own chase), I did the same thing. I dived into tall weeds and remained still until I awoke. In my later dream, it was the tall weeds near the railroad tracks seemingly in back of my house. This implied that the straw house was associated (being in the same general location) with the rabbit shed my father had built in real life. Interestingly, this and similar dreams had a very clear physical awareness of being outside in tall grasses, even a sense of outside air. The residual sensations such dreams held were quite intriguing, as if the mind refused to fully integrate itself into the real environment (even the actual body positioning) until the last possible second.

See also: “Your Greatest Fear”

Morning of November 27, 1971. Saturday.



I am in a public place later at night, possibly related to a fifth grade field trip (seemingly close to West Elementary School). I have access to an incredibly powerful telescope. Through the telescope, I see very large and “close” details of the planet Jupiter. However, it also seems as if Jupiter has become extremely close to Earth and somehow “turned into” (perhaps temporarily) various bands of colorful clouds. There is the idea in my dream that Jupiter is not really solid but “made up of clouds” or a sort of multicolored vapor that moves through Earth’s night sky on a regular basis. It is all very colorful and beautiful and creates a sense of both peace and wonder. It is almost as if Jupiter is like a giant soap bubble regarding the continuously changing color patterns. Mainly, there is the idea that Jupiter is not a large planet (with the surface as such in terms of overall area) - an idea which turned out to be precognitive (or using postcognition to an extent). This is because I had not heard anywhere at that time that Jupiter did not have a huge solid surface implied by its size. I was not focused much on the concept of a planet being “made of gas” (I assume even after hearing the term “gas giant”) and originally assumed as a much younger child that it had a huge planet-wide surface based on ideas others had told me, including what I saw in a few older movies.

See also: “Soap-bubble-like window”

Morning of September 25, 1971. Saturday.



This is from late childhood and was inspired by two giant mummy comic books (as well as “King Kong”) I had at that time. Toby T (my best friend), Brenda W, Tina L, and Lisa M are with me to find and capture (in a sort of King-Kong-like scenario) Gomdulla, the giant mummy. We stumble randomly into a large pyramid, which is more like the Concordia dance-hall my father had often done shows at but may be a much larger version of the old DHS auditorium in part.

The giant mummy comes from around the corner (after much in-dream concentration to instigate it). I dance in his open hand (similar to Fay Wray on King Kong’s hand, I suppose), but somehow it is more like dancing on a mattress behind bulletproof glass with a subtle hint of a camera nearby (yet somehow more like a stage performance at school). Even though the mummy is originally male (I assume), the two songs I do are:

“Hello ma baby! Hello ma honey! Hello ma ragtime gal!” and “Mummy! How I love ya! How I love ya! My dear ol’ mummy!” (altered from “Mammy” and “Swanee”).

It could have been a lot better, though - in terms of a “proper” and more interesting and longer “movie dream” (there were at least two other later versions of this one that were worse and less eventful than this one). Toby messes around swinging on a giant loose bandage that hangs down (like Tarzan, I suppose). Brenda sort of breaks down and wants to go home. I go into a stupid “forced” persona that seems fake and I say “Aw! Do you want your mummy?" and she walks around with arms folded across her chest with a sad look, which is soon replaced by disgust and disbelief of my behavior.

Toby takes the clasp/buckle from Brenda W’s dark leather purse. It was the real-life buckle which was a clock framework with the words "wait for me” on it, which I always thought was interesting - and I had never seen it elsewhere. I have not been able to find any Google image of it, either. He holds it up to frighten away the giant mummy/alien somewhat in accordance with the manner of a cross keeping away a vampire. The original (childhood journal) name for this was “The Search for the Giant Mummy”.

Later on in real life we had a board game called “Voice of the Mummy” and I had my own “Dark Shadows” game.

Morning of March 2, 1971. Tuesday.



I am playing paper football with Opie W from my own desk. I am not certain who is ahead. The room seems to be a composite of Mrs. F’s class with features of classrooms I had not actually been a part of (including for the older students).

I accidentally flick the paper football too hard and it gets stuck between the tiles in the ceiling right over Mrs. F’s head. A couple other students notice, but she does not and asks “What are you laughing at?” to the ones laughing and then she shrugs it off.

Over time, the paper football somehow grows larger and becomes a cyan chrysalis. It “quivers” at times, signifying life. The teacher does not notice at all but I feel a vague wariness that it may fall on her.

A real-life event vividly replays. Michael P was drawing a simple picture of himself standing in an undefined area. He is adding details to the jeans. Susan R looks on and gasps, “Oooh, Michael” in disapproval.

Michael annoyingly calls to Mrs. F, saying, “Mrs. F, I was just drawing pants and adding the zipper part and Susan thinks it’s a wiener thing." The teacher, reflecting a perfect composite emotion of terror and rage, slowly asks, "Michael…WHAT is a wiener thing?" Michael looks slightly embarrassed and goes back to his drawing.

Time seems to pass, perhaps a week or more. I get the impression that the chrysalis holds a "copy” of Susan or Susan herself, but it is not known what will eventually happen. There is an ominous association with “never going back”.

There seem to be a fair number of subtle plays as is typical with certain types of dreams, examples being a play on “pupa” (chrysalis) and “pupil” (student), a paper football somewhat resembling a butterfly from the side and a typical link to the highly influential “Chrysalids” story (by John Wyndham) and the unexplainable mystical association with the “other” (Susan R). This seems connected with (and precognitive of) the identical drawings of the inchworm in a derby by the “other” and my as-yet-unknown wife (who never left Australia or knew any of my childhood friends), the details being so exact, there was even the same pencil slip (and corrected mistake) and were both part of their short story (the stories being different). This also reflects a dream where the “mystery girl” sees the drawing and actually copies it (while it was on my desk near my bed) so that I will one day “know” her in reality…which turned out to be one of thousands of unexplainable events for me as that actually came to pass, this in turn being a subtle link to when Brenda W (proven wife archetype in dreams) later actually copied my own story almost exactly (but on purpose on her part), other than changing “toads” to “spiders” in every instance. Also, my wife, when young, wrote a story called “W’s Dream” using the same last name as Brenda. Tip of the iceberg in “funny business” as usual.