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Morning of November 10, 2016. Thursday.



I am in a van being driven by my brother-in-law Bob. Most of my family members are with me in the back except for Lorenzo (middle son). Looking to my left, I see that an unfamiliar female passenger in another vehicle (probably a van as a car would be lower) somehow holds onto the top of the driver’s side window of Bob’s van, which I think is a very foolish thing to do. (This seems to be a preconscious factor, at least potentially, but the situation eventually fades.) The vehicle has four chubby and aggressive females, probably in their late thirties. My brother-in-law does not respond. I eventually yell at them. They soon drive on ahead.

We eventually arrive at an unfamiliar shopping mall near a mountainous area. It now suddenly shifts to nighttime, around eight o'clock. I suddenly feel concerned that Lorenzo is not with us, as I feel he should not be left alone (at our house) for the two or so hours we will probably be here (seemingly for shopping and a movie). I decide to quickly fly back to make sure he is okay, though on one level, I feel silly about flying all the way back after just arriving here, as it apparently took a long time for Bob to drive out here. However, because a parking lot symbolizes liminal space (a higher state between dreaming and waking), I somehow get “stuck” right on the perimeter. I am flying but not making much forward progress (a very rare event for me, but I have rarely attempted flight over a parking lot in dreams). I almost manage to fly above the roof of a nearby house. Instead, I decide to teleport to my bed (false awakening) and I am glad I am now able to check on Lorenzo.

Almost immediately, I am with Lorenzo and the rest of our family in the front yard in Cubitis. It now seems early afternoon. It seems there are several people trespassing, close to the bedroom windows. I get angry but my family and I end up leaving, walking southward (with no destination in mind). I shout several rude remarks back at them as well as making rude gestures. They do not seem intimidated. Curiously, they are mostly all seated on the ground in formal meditation positions, including an unknown toddler (male). I get the impression that the oldest male (about sixty), who is thin and wearing coveralls, had been working on a car, but I do not see a car anywhere.

Soon, I am walking with Zsuzsanna and an unknown female with dark short hair. As we walk along, there is mention of the van event that occurred in the first part of my dream (as this female apparently had trouble with the four from the vehicle as well). I eventually enter a very subtle lucidity, but not active lucidity. This is where I am not lucid but manifest, mostly through pretense at first, the idea of a secret area to explore (commonly recurring since early childhood).

Even though it is mostly an outside area, we come to floor-length curtains (subtle lucidity sign, akin to going onto a stage). Going through the beige curtains, we enter some sort of secret abandoned park with a zoo theme. I am at first somewhat startled by a male and female lion (just to my left and past a doorway we come out from), and I am concerned for a short time that they may jump over the fence. However I soon realize that they are animatronic animals that have not been maintained for a long time as some of the sections of fur are missing and metal and plastic can be seen through certain areas. We continue along a beautiful garden path. The sidewalk, always with a continuous hedge on each side, turns at ninety degree offsets fairly often, but is not really maze-like. Although I am aware of several other animatronic animals, I do not see them due to dense shrubbery. I feel very happy and relaxed.

We somehow end up in a kitchen, which is a little like the one on Stadcor Street. I am, for a short time, aware of a group of people walking by outside the large windows, but I do not actually see them through the curtains. I only hear them and they seem cheerful. There are soon unusual implications in the immediate setting. I see the year 2002 on a small calendar magnet on the refrigerator as well as seeing it on a couple documents. Zsuzsanna and the other female do not seem to “realize” the implications. To me, based on seeing “2002”, it seems like we are in the present. I feel that there is a pretense that the park had been closed for many years even though the date (false assumption) reflects the present (and even though by dream implications we are fourteen years in the past). Still, I feel a sense of harmony and peace.

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Being in the kitchen in the last scene represents light hunger during sleep. A lion is often the coalescence factor (return to consciousness) as it can swallow the imaginary dream self (and is an association with “The Sleeping Gypsy” 1897 oil painting). The curtains were the same color as the lions, so this was a type of subliminal expectation, though the lions turned out to be mechanical (and not any sort of threat) in this case. My puzzling over the date and not knowing the present year is quite common in my dreams. The personified subconscious (dream self) has no concept or understanding of time in the majority of my non-lucid dreams. For example, I am often much younger or in a different or mixed up time period that combines different time periods. I do not like conflicts or conflict-related challenges in dreams, though the preconscious biologically needs to be aggressive to push the dreamer to activate waking (via RAS) even though coalescence consent (such as hugging a dream character as also has recurred since childhood) would be much better, though the personified subconscious (dream self) typically sees the preconscious state as a threat (especially when there is a subliminal desire to sleep longer), both with negative daybreak types (or end of the world events) and various forms that chase the dreamer, rather than allowing time to indulge in sustained dream exploration as here.

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Morning of October 18, 2016. Tuesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and our children as we appear now are living in the Loomis Street house, though I have no memory of my relatives who actually lived there. We hear loud voices from upstairs a few times. It turns out to be at least two young males, possibly college students.

I am outside near the (south) side of the house when I hear some yelling in the upstairs apartment but I do not see anyone. Just as I go back into the house via the front door, one of the unknown males is suddenly there yelling as if he thought I was spying on him just by me being outside. This is the personified preconscious but I am fully non-lucid and do not recognize the essence at this point.

I soon go outside when he is no longer present. I am carrying my large barbell bar. I end up getting my second one because I soon see that the other two males have a couple near the back of the house, sticking out through the door of the laundry room (which is not logical as it is our living area not theirs) though they do not pick them up when they come into the backyard. I hold both my bars up as if for a sword fight. I decide to steal their two barbells, and, along with my two, put them in a (fictional) attic in the house where they cannot get to them. I tell them this directly. The attic is full of features that I falsely recall are mine, including bed frames (dream sign).

We get into a fight and I knock one of them out; the one who had been yelling at our front door earlier (personified preconscious). While the other male stands on the back concrete step for the back door, I end up putting a dagger horizontally through his neck. Still, I feel a little bad about this because he is much younger than me.

Still in the backyard, I place his body in a bucket that is full of water (which of course is very unrealistic as how could someone fit in a bucket). Somehow, the water does not spill out. I decide I will resurrect him.

After I focus more, with the intent to bring the character back, I look down and notice a skull in the bucket (not logical as he was not in skeletal form when put in). Soon however, a long white balloon with a sketchy skeleton design on it slowly rises up from the water as if being pumped up with a bicycle pump. This seems a bit strange to me but does not puzzle me a lot or trigger any significant thoughts. I get the impression that the character goes back to normal in vague liminal space during the waking stage.

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Because this involves water induction and resurrection, I will assume that this character is my personified conscious self (as it had been determined long ago that the personified preconscious is sometimes a partner to the personified conscious self as a precursor to resolved emergent consciousness in a non-lucid dream, the dream self being the personified subconscious regardless of the “I am” identity - this being obvious because the personified subconscious or dream self cannot remember much at all, unless of course more threads of the conscious self are present). On one level, this could be subliminal reinduction (especially as water is involved); an attempt to “bring my dream back to life”.

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Morning of September 12, 2016. Monday.



The most obvious dream sign in a dream is being in a bed (which is not typically a “dream symbol” at all - it is usually just a subliminal memory of having gone to sleep, just as being undressed in public is) and such is the case here. However, it is not my real bed at some points even though the orientation falsely feels exactly the same. I find myself sleeping in Leonard’s bed in the King Street boarding house; a location I have not been to in over twenty years.

Leonard’s room is arranged so that there are three beds; two to the east wall and one from the west wall somewhat in the middle on that side. Although Leonard (born August 1945) is only present briefly, there are also two malcontent disaffected college students sharing his room. They are probably only around twenty years of age. The bed I had been sleeping in is in the northeast area of his room (head to the east windows), where a bed had not only never been in reality, but had appeared as such in previous dreams, which causes me to yet again question why dreams “get everything wrong” so consistently like this in regards to layout, locations, and settings in general (even combining settings from two different countries), more especially as my dream self never takes notice of such an overt “mistake” that seems almost intentional as a type of tertiary dream sign which has been a facet of the majority of my dreams since earliest memory.

I seem to be ostracized (by the two other males) for sleeping in Leonard’s bed due to the fact that I am not an actual tenant who pays rent at this boarding house at this time. I do not really care. Even though I am not lucid, I decide to get out of bed, allow myself to float up to the ceiling and hover there, facing downwards while very slowly turning about much like a large ceiling fan that is coming to a stop until my head faces east. The sensation and momentum feels perfect and very harmonious. Still, they do not seem amused, continuing to only glare up at me (which I find somewhat amusing), but they do not say much. I contemplate the idea of sleeping up here from now on while hovering downwards as such in the center of the room near the ceiling, slowly turning like a ceiling fan as if in an environment without gravity.

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Of the tens of thousands of dreams I have documented and closely studied (including with comparing and contrasting similar dreams), there seem to be three types of dream lucidity (not including scripted lucid dreams of which there is no point in posting online) that are nothing at all like typical lucid and semi-lucid dreams (which otherwise come into full control by spoken phrases, or including lately, the written word), and in fact, are so different from “ordinary” dreams as to be “something else”, especially apex lucidity, where full automatic control is manifest for as long as desired (or until the dream colorfully breaks up from needing to wake relative to the biological need to wake).

Instinctual dreaming seems to be the most common type of dream for me since earliest memory (and is similar in clarity and mood to a typical non-lucid dream); that is, shaping at least part of my dream with background expectations (which is how some people create nightmares for themselves by focusing on and amplifying their own fearful expectations, without understanding that it is their conscious mind creating this, not the unconscious - which of course has no sentience or awareness) without at all having any level of actual lucidity or questioning my status or perspective in any way regardless of any wrongness or otherwise surreal nature of the setting or events. Two, pretense-based dreams, where whatever I say to another dream character or imply in a dream changes it perfectly based on my pretense even though there is no facet of lucidity at all. For example, I will say that I have valid identification to enter a secret military base (even though I “know” I do not) and it will simply manifest in my dream as such. Three, apex lucidity, something I cannot begin to understand due to its state being so utterly different than other dreams. Fully in-body, perfect clarity and sense of physical weight and momentum, solidity and incredibly realistic ambiance, and full ongoing “automatic” control based on any conscious desire (though conscious expectation is the dominating factor in most dreams anyway). The state is different from scripted lucid dreams (which often end after the last scripted event with the falling jolt waking mechanism as is to be expected) in that no practiced meditative sequence seems required and whole consciousness (though somehow shifted into liminal space) takes over completely (and the perception remaining at this level potentially indefinitely), with all the senses augmented.

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Night of August 20, 2016. Saturday.



I am in an unknown area, but which strongly seems to be the area near the fictional New Moon Drive In from a Huckleberry Hound story. I am not sure how this wonderful childhood impression so clearly comes to me after all these years, but it has happened a number of times previously. There is a very strong happiness permeating my dream for a time.

Eventually, I am aware of the Freakies from Freakies Cereal, although there are additional creatures which appear quite different than the original characters. Each one is a different color (including purple, pink, and cyan) and about half my height. One is an octopus-like creature but his limbs are truncated to where they seem more like suction cups or extended “craters” all around his spherical body. Another creature is like an octopus as well but his thin tentacles have numerous additional thin tentacles coming out of them evenly all down the side, the effect somewhat like minimal plant roots. At one point we stand on the roof of an unknown building (possibly meant to be the Rose Street building) watching the sky for Mister Sandman.

All this time, “Mister Sandman” (by the Chordettes) seems to be playing. However, the other words are not distinct and the song seems to actually be about the “real” Mister Sandman arriving, possibly by rocket.

I wander about in what resembles a fairground setting and there is a nice sense of timelessness and “being in the right place”.

Eventually, Huckleberry Hound is seen on the roof of the New Moon Drive In in his crashed rocket (though there had been no focus on any actual crash). He looks about as if puzzled. A number of people approach the building with low-level crowd noises and a positive sense of wonder. I cross a street to see what is going on.

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I thought this was a wonderful and nostalgic experience. I was semi-lucid throughout most of it though remained passive regardless of the presence of the weird ugly Freakies. I thought it included a very nice “failed flight waking transition” event, a very common waking metaphor (a far more detailed extension of the primary biological waking function). Although I have not included a “water induction” tag, there is an association as the song “Moon River” has the lyric with “my huckleberry friend“ (though obviously not connected to Huckleberry Hound).

Morning of July 28, 2016. Thursday.



The four strange events are: An unlikely earthquake that causes unexplainable changes, electricity that moves about and causes destruction, inanimate objects attaining sentience and a desire to hunt people, and what people write having an effect on upcoming events after an unusual change in the sky.

In the first part of my dream, which is mostly unrelated to the rest, my family and I are living in a distorted version of the Barolin Street house. It has two flights of steps at the front at one point, a narrower flight at the right of our house and a wide flight of steps almost of commercial appearance more towards the middle. This area has a small chain going across at the downstairs door.

There is someone at our house who is interested in items we have found in a storage area. These items were seemingly there a very long time, having been left by former tenants. The agreed price is three hundred dollars. Another visitor, who may be a homeless male, says he should pay five hundred dollars, but since I do not want to lose the sale, I keep it at three hundred. Still, I additionally ask if he might be interested in a couple very old advertisement posters, one of which he is amazed by concerning both its age and its rarity (even though I somehow create these posters out of typical dream state pretence even though I am not lucid in any way). I also have two boxes with small ceramic swan statues, though one of these seems to disintegrate from age. Still, they already seemed to have had sections missing.

Eventually, a young chubby male (perhaps no older than twenty) tries to come up the steps at the side. I go to the middle flight of steps. The chain does not really block people from coming in or going out as one could just move it or go under or over it. There are some unusual events going on south of our house. It involves some sort of earthquake that causes unexplainable changes. I am not that concerned but find it interesting.

Eventually, some sort of electrical threat is in the area. There is a large utility vehicle that shoots out synthetic lightning to fight this threat. I see it parked near the front of our house. Most of the action occurs in the supposed main part of town, which is south of us (rather than north of us as in reality).

At a later point, I mention how unlikely a third event would be, saying that a third unexplainable event would be impossible. Still, one unknown female is saying how certain inanimate objects are hunting people. It seems to be a well-established and accepted fact that inanimate objects, such as wrecking bars or crowbars, have a certain percentage of living material on the surface that could become sentient somehow. In fact, it seems that all things that exist have a certain degree of organic life force if only on the surface - though this is usually not enough to give an object sentience or instinct or a will to hunt. In this case, it seems perfectly reasonable that a wrecking bar could come to life, move like a snake, and hunt people. I am aware of these reported events of inanimate objects attaining this hunting instinct and life force but am never under any threat.

Later, several other (mostly unknown) people and I notice that the sky looks unusual (though this does not bother me at all as it does most of the others). Somehow the sky is reflecting details of the ground below, but it is not quite as intricate. It is almost like a more simplistic map-like layout with a downward curvature that matches the ground level topography (rather than exactly mirror-like, as then it would curve upward). I can make out plain squares that are seemingly meant to be a “reflection” of the houses in the area, as well as patterns that match the streets.

It is realized that “reality” as such has changed and people are worried about what they had written concerning the first three unusual events and any other negative events. This does not bother me. It is possible that more strange and even disastrous events will come. I can begin to feel a stronger breeze from the direction of town. I am not that concerned. I start to write different things on various pieces of paper which I can write and read quite clearly. I write “well-being” on several different scraps of paper, as well as “God loves me” (I do not typically use the word “God” as I feel it is too generic, as many different religions use the term with completely different attributes, systems, and implications). Meanwhile, other people do not write anything and only focus on the worst possible outcome as they hang on to the outside of buildings though some seem lost and just wander around.

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Morning of July 20, 2016. Wednesday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna on a large bed (the most obvious dream sign of all) though this bed is about twice as big as it would be in reality. She is on my right doing some sort of work on a calculator. The setting, though not rendered fully, actually seems to be near an intersection which is on our left (our bed running longways to the street with us facing the street at most points) with a bus stop farther away to our right (a potential dream exit sign; that is, the waking precursor in this case even though I do not perceive myself as needing or wanting to catch a bus either “out” of my dream or to an offset dream), and although I am aware of at least four or five other people nearby, there is no sense of imposition. The location itself is unknown. The implication could be either America or Australia or elsewhere.

Over time, I understand that she had been carefully typing in a program related to calculating percentages. There are at least three virtual panels related to lines of instruction. She seems very involved and serious about what she is doing. Somehow though, I later have the calculator (possibly when she goes somewhere for a short time, but she is back later) and I had put lines of my own programming in, although they may only be REM statements. Still, I realize that perhaps it would have been best not to add to the program as I do not want to alter the outcome of her session even though I thought it might make her results more accurate.

Looking at the calculator again as she is holding it in her left hand, I notice that the programmer’s name appears at least three times on the screen below each group of at least three lines each of a specific subroutine (the screen of which is longer than it should be, almost taking up the entire space of what would actually be the keypad). It sounds like an East Indian name to me, and I assume it is a male’s, likely a college professor’s. “His” name seems to be Padmé Amidala (which is actually the name of the young female in some of the “Star Wars” movies, and I had not at all thought of “Star Wars” at any point recently).

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.)

Morning of April 22, 2016. Friday.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are living on Barolin Street though my family and I seem mostly as we are now. (We moved from there in the first part of 2008.)

I am planning to go out through our back door from our kitchen to vacuum our utility room, which in real life has a concrete floor but with some of the area being bare ground. I am not focused on how futile it would be to vacuum near or over the bare ground and I illogically consider that our backyard might need some vacuuming as well.

As I am dragging our vacuum cleaner easterly through our kitchen, I notice puddles of water here and there on our floor, which our vacuum cleaner’s power cord may have traversed. I try to determine where the water is coming from but I am not sure if it is from our vacuum cleaner or had already been there as the result of a spilled glass of water or a leak from our kitchen sink pipes. I also wonder if I should continue on to our utility room even though our vacuum cleaner is not plugged in yet. My dream fades from this point as I am looking down at our kitchen floor.

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As with many dreams, other than when literal prescience is a factor, this dream has no connection with waking life other than real-time biological associations. It is based on a distorted unconscious perception of the cleansing process that occurs during sleep, in which water is most often a circadian rhythms factor in symbolizing the dynamics of sleep. To help you understand, here is a quote from npr.org on “Brains Sweep Themselves Clean Of Toxins During Sleep”: “During sleep, the system that circulates cerebrospinal fluid through the brain and nervous system was ‘pumping fluid into the brain and removing fluid from the brain in a very rapid pace,’ Nedergaard says. The team discovered that this increased flow was possible in part because when mice went to sleep, their brain cells actually shrank, making it easier for fluid to circulate. When an animal woke up, the brain cells enlarged again and the flow between cells slowed to a trickle. 'It’s almost like opening and closing a faucet,’ Nedergaard says. 'It’s that dramatic.’”

The above quote also explains why water as induction (dream state initiation), and why water getting lower over time as waking symbolism, has remained a consistent factor in thousands of my dreams for over fifty years, occurring in at least a few dreams each night.

This validated biological symbolism is also why the vacuum cleaner hose seemingly has an ambiguous association with a garden hose in this particular dream. While a vacuum cleaner sucks in dust and dirt through the hose (inward dynamic), a garden hose washes away dust and dirt (outward dynamic). This is known as composite synthesis (in this case, the circadian rhythms cycle ambiguously mixed as a type of dream state economics, that is, mixing such elements in unification due to critical thinking skills and viable time orientation not existing in unconsciousness). Because this is a biological dream and not based on waking symbolism (other than there being less water in contrast to more water), it can be determined that the focus on cleaning the backyard relates to cellular cleansing processes regarding the human digestive system.

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This entry has been resupplemented on Wednesday, 16 August 2017. I welcome intelligent comments only.

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Morning of April 19, 2016. Tuesday.



There is some very intense sensuality and lovemaking several times throughout this dream of the type that leaves me intrigued, but it also has a science-fiction-like plot.

I seem to be some sort of watchman (in mostly casual clothes; no uniform) for a particular unknown and unfamiliar city in possibly the distant future. It has something to do with making sure no one goes near or uses any reactors, along with things relating to electricity and “old” technology.

There is a point at which I discover someone had started to utilize a reactor and I go to investigate. It seems that time had somehow shifted or I am in the “wrong” town. A man (unknown) in a policeman’s uniform (including a helmet) tells me that the town is going to utilize the reactor when I warn them it is against the present federal laws and that there may be radiation that will make many people ill over time. He does not agree and asks me for identification. He even pulls a gun on me. We argue a bit and I continue to tell him that it is my responsibility to be a watchman of this town.

Finally, after he makes a couple other comments, I just firmly say “No…no…I am the ultimate authority here! I am!” and shoot him in the forehead twice. The people do not really react but the reactor is shut down. (As a reactor would represent conscious energy entering the dream, not lucidity but possibly just waking up, it seems I prefer to stay in the dream state at this point.)

There is a (one of several) lovemaking scene with Zsuzsanna with me on my back in an outside area, seemingly on concrete and near a man-made river. One human witness appears. There are also several wild animals nearby; lions and bears and such. I say, trying to sound somewhat friendly, “aw…go away now…” but the person just stands there looking at us curiously until the large wild animals flee from my louder voice and knock them over (into the river) on their way to jumping into the river to “escape” me. They transform into a cluster of large but variously-sized bubbles sailing across the surface of the water to the opposite side. When they transform back, they are all mixed up. I even see a giant skinny frog (about five feet tall) and an oversized male plumed basilisk (about half the size of the frog). They seem to be struggling to pull themselves out of the water. Some of them are still “half-bubble” and a bit melted-looking. I am not sure if any but the frog makes it.

In another lovemaking scene, Zsuzsanna is younger and has a raised butterfly pattern (flight symbol though there is no lucidity at any point) on her back (not a tattoo image, just raised skin which I mostly feel rather than actually see).

In another scene, I am indoors and there are several different females, all unattractive and seemingly arrogant as they lounge about. One is standing at the front of the room like a leader of some sort. A couple of them make sarcastic remarks about me not finding them pleasant to be with, but I pull out a gun and shoot them in the same manner (in the forehead, twice) as the guard from the earlier part of my dream. One of the females seems about six feet tall and is almost completely round and lying on her side on an elevated (about five inches or so) trapezoidal section of the floor. Finally, a young version of Zsuzsanna appears and seems concerned. I tell her that there is nothing for her to be concerned about and we hug intimately and say “okay” back and forth a few times. This is a transition point (a partial awakening and my dream shifting to a different one) that represents unity and coalescence (dream self merging back into whole conscious self). Of all the different types of dream events, hugging has always seemed the most intimate and peaceful, even healing in nature and is much better than the falling transition in my opinion.

I shift to a surreal scene in an unknown apparently elevated city (the time seeming to be mid-afternoon) with someone on a unicycle (my left) and a dwarf in some sort of pedal car (my right). I seem to be on a skateboard or possibly just floating along on air in standing position. We all seem happy and the other two are sort of singing gleefully. We are suddenly blocked by a chain-link fence (liminal space between dreaming and waking). A man about eight feet tall (on the other side of the fence and representing my emergent consciousness in this case) in a 1940s suit and very thin (and reminding me of a thinner version of Lurch from “The Addams Family” with an essence of the Apple Droppers from “Yellow Submarine”, the latter being a downsized waking transition “warning”, that is, the dreamer as a potential falling apple), not menacing at all, cordially opens the gate for us. We continue to ride along but soon see that the edge of the street and sidewalk just stop (like a cliff), thus the fence was more for pedestrian safety it seems. The view of the rest of the city is in the distance and far below. The two other dream characters cannot stop in time and go riding off the edge and shout “Whoa!” and hover in midair for a very short time before falling (like in a cartoon). I feel a sense of hilarity and feel only a vague sense of falling even though I had not gone over the edge (final waking transition event) and seem to now somehow be on a unicycle at the waking point. I find it hilarious that the two other dream characters went suddenly falling instead of me experiencing the direct waking mechanism. This has happened before and I always find it silly and amusing, almost like a “glitch” in the waking process where “I am” (dream self perspective and identity) is for whatever reason instead rendered as “you are” (projected affirmation to a secondary character) even as the transition occurs.

Morning of March 18, 2016. Friday.



This is a typical and easily decoded fishing dream (though my views on this common dream situation have changed somewhat over the years with new realizations and additional evidence) where I “expect” to catch a very large fish and do hook one but wake before fully reeling it in. I am near a bridge in an unknown region. The bridge is fairly high from the area near the shore where I go to fish. (A bridge typically represents either deeper dream entry or waking, but I do not utilize it here in any way.)

I soon hook into a giant walleye, which is between twenty and thirty feet long (which is of course, ridiculous, especially as it stays on my line the whole time). I slowly reel it in and it splashes near the surface, filling spectators with awe. Its tail sweeps up from the surface, whale-like.

An unknown man and his annoying large dog appear on the scene. I am not sure of what breed of dog it is, but it is possibly a Doberman. The man seems oblivious to the large fish I am reeling in.

Soon, feeling amused, I deliberately reel the fish towards the dog, which is splashing in the water a few feet from shore. The big fish rises up from the water and swallows the dog in one gulp (the fish directly facing me as he does so). The man looks bewildered. I feel no regret and actually have to hold back laughter. In a short time, the water starts to lower somewhat, which represents the instigation of the waking process (and has as such since very early childhood, the first documented instance being in 1965).

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As I have found even more evidence that well serves the meaning, I will still note that fish have different meanings depending on the situation, as does a whale, even transitory meanings - for example, a large fish is the essence (and projection) of the dream self until caught by the dream self where it then becomes the emergent consciousness in being pulled from the dream state. This dream uses the “swallowing the dream remnants” transition and is analogous to the “Pinocchio” story on one level. Carefully considering the elements, I typically see a large fish or a whale as a dream self projection while it is in water (especially going deeper into a body of water). However, the giant fish in this dream is actually my emergent consciousness rising from the dream state (body of water) to swallow the dog (dream remnants and dream self projection, which are rendered as annoying and “intrusive” concerning my dawning awareness in getting closer to waking). This relates directly to the “Pinocchio” story, confirmed by the fact that Pinocchio is “not a real boy” (until the end of the story) and is thus solely the dream self rather than a thread or projection of the conscious self (the latter as with apex lucidity where the conscious self is almost completely aware, fully in the dream body, and fully in control). The whale or emergent consciousness swallows the dream self, instigating the waking transition. Swallowing is a form of coalescence of dream self and waking self and if you believe the theory of how complex cells came to evolve (through engulfed bacterium) then it makes even more sense.

This pattern of dream meaning can be seen in a few dreams; the boa swallowing Danny (as he was on a scaffold which also represents getting closer to waking), the miniature lion swallowing our daughter, a very large catfish swallowing an unknown male, and so on, all during the waking transition, including even the one where each larger box “swallows” each smaller box in a series.

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Morning of February 18, 2016. Thursday.



In my dream, I seem to be in an area that is loosely modeled after my Cubitis home (where I have not lived since 1978, yet my dream self sees it as my present home), at least regarding the large backyard and the railroad tracks behind it (to the east) but there are differences. It seems to be late at night and yet there are short time periods where I can clearly see the covers of books. On at least two occasions, I also notice unknown trucks parked in what would be the backyard.

I go near the railroad tracks and notice a shallow cardboard box filled with old How and Why Wonder Books that appears to have been put out by an unknown neighbor farther south, but the majority do not look like any of the ones I had in real life as a boy. However, “Coins and Currency”, which is one I did have, is near the top, but the cover is very worn. There are other books in the box in addition to the How and Why Wonder Books, including magazines and comic books. I think about taking them, as they had been discarded. Still, it is an unusual place to put presumed rubbish, as there is no pick up there (or rather, never was in real life) other than for the train to collect and take to the dump as my dream self reasons. A lifelong dream-related focus of a train taking large amounts of possibly valuable refuse to a landfill (or sometimes a warehouse where it is apparently sorted), usually northward, is a curious recurring theme.

I am on the railroad tracks for a time (remaining on the west side of them) but I am aware that a train is approaching from the south. I feel the vibrations and expect it to be carrying a lot of printed materials to a landfill, which enhances my curiosity about possibly attaining interesting books. Oddly, it turns out to be one boxcar moving down the track (with no discernible method of locomotion). It passes me, but when it starts to go through a tunnel (not a real-life feature) on the opposite side of our backyard, to the north, it somehow gets jammed in. I am somehow able to move it back out, as it seems very light. It falls off the railroad tracks directly into the living room of the house, which establishes consciously unresolvable ambiguity as to whether I am in an outdoor or indoor setting. (In real life, there was considerable distance from the railroad tracks to the house.)

I see various books inside the boxcar, which now seems only about half the size it had been previously. It is not only very light but starts to bend slightly, like thin aluminum. I notice a “Tom and Jerry” storybook with perhaps one small black and white drawing per page. I also notice two Nancy and Sluggo comic strip collections in book form. There are still a number of other books inside the boxcar as I tip it upside-down, some of the contents spilling onto the living room floor.

Two unknown men eventually appear and it seems as if they had been moving the boxcar down the tracks even though they were not seen until this point. They seem puzzled about the details concerning the wreck. They are not angry and seem friendly as I tell them that I hope to keep what I want from the boxcar. I even offer to pay for the contents (only because they showed up and I do not want to be seen as a thief) and the man to my right gives me a puzzled look as if there would be no need. (In the last stage, there is a vague sense of bilocation when the Cubitis living room is associated with the kitchen of our present home and the vague awareness of my real physical body in bed to my right, though there is also a vague awareness of one step leading up to it between the kitchen and where our bed is, a step or staircase symbolizing an increase of neural activity to eventually establish wakeful consciousness.)

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This dream seems to have been at least partly influenced by having reviewed and written about a childhood dream from 1967 (“Battle atop Boxes on a Boxcar”).

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A train is typically relevant to the dynamics of the dream state, not waking life. Here, it can be validated that I had threads of instinctual dreaming (unaware of being in a dream but still with influence and control). This is why my dream self was able to stop the boxcar (subliminally willing it to become stuck in the tunnel) and attain full control of it despite the size and weight. The preconscious and my emergent consciousness show up in the last scene as potential waking initiators, which is also unrelated to waking life as it is a common dream state component in case I indulge in a dream for too long (in which case the preconscious would become aggressive or more dominant, as waking up is a biological necessity).

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Resupplemented and minimally expanded on Thursday, 17 August 2017, due to seeing no evidence of public understanding of dreams or the dream state.

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Morning of February 16, 2016. Tuesday.



I am watching, while incorporeal, the adventures of two young males riding in a small boat in Loch Ness. There are other people around, but not as integrated into the events I am viewing. As the men travel over the lake, there is some sort of special imaging they are able to see which is related to a new kind of advanced technology. Other unseen characters are making this possible for them and they do not seem to be part of the research themselves. There is a sense of beauty as the bottom of Loch Ness is rendered in perfect detail, though all in one brighter color yet which seems to be different over time.

Soon, the flat fossilized remains of a huge pterodactyl are seen on the large screen. However, it seems as if I am moving over this rendered area (of the bottom of Loch Ness) in a bird’s eye view as well as with no implication of water, only the imagery of the lake bottom as I (or the imagery) slowly move ahead, somewhat like horizontal scrolling though with the seemingly correct size orientation (as if my incorporeal form is integrated into the technology itself or at least the end result of it). There is a vague awareness of the possibility of seeing the Loch Ness monster if it exists, but this does not occur. Over time, only unrealistically huge fossils are seen, mostly all of flying creatures. It seems amazing that mankind is now able to see everything at the bottom of Loch Ness and the two males are thrilled and grateful to the others who are making this possible (as, again, they seem like random members of the public who just happen to be in the right place at the right time).

A huge archaeopteryx fossil is also seen (possibly about a hundred times bigger than it would be in reality), and the focus probably remains on this section for the longest period. There are also a lot of similar fossils, one which is possibly the fossil of a giant (fictional) prehistoric flying snake. Curiously, again, there do not seem to be any fossils of swimming creatures anywhere on the lake bottom, or extinct lake denizens, mostly only the giant prehistoric birds and flying reptiles, some fossil sections touching mostly at wingtips. The mood remains very cheerful and satisfying even during the waking transition.

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Of course, this dream represents looking into the deepest recesses of memory at the deepest levels of mind to see things that were not as visible or detailed as before. The fact that they were only gigantic flying creatures relates to the “higher” ideas and memories (and with greater perspective) I think, which had originally “taken more in” from a more detailed “bird’s eye view” before becoming a part of my memories and dreams. This also fits in with my increased research of date-specific layers in dreams over time. On February 16, 1970, there was a dream of a living archaeopteryx (only about the size of a chicken in this case and remaining on the south side of my room) in my bedroom in Cubitis, which was influenced by an image in an old book (which my mother bought second-hand) on prehistoric animals.

Morning of February 14, 2016. Sunday.

Dream #: 17,954-05. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and I are in a shed that may be a distorted version of our present home’s shed. There is also an unknown male character.

A trapdoor spider about four times bigger than a real one is near the doorway. It bites Zsuzsanna on her right knee, but she is soon a young version of the Erin Walton character (played years ago by Mary Beth McDonough), which puzzles my dream self in a way that alters my level of awareness.

The man holds her as she cries and sits down and he gives her an injection near her right knee with a hypodermic needle (a very rare dream prop for me), which contains the cure. It seems she will recover. I look in the doorway, and there stands the four-times-bigger trapdoor spider. I eventually understand that the spider is Kali. “She is the mighty aspect of the goddess Durga. The name of Kali means black one and force of time. She is therefore called the Goddess of Time, Change, Power, Creation, Preservation, and Destruction.” (Kali often has four arms and two legs, which makes her an “insect,” not a “spider.”)

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Zsuzsanna used to play with trapdoor spiders without knowing they were venomous (yet luckily was never bitten). Secondly, I associate Erin Walton with the petting of a deer (relating to a documentary feature about her that I saw years ago as well as the Waltons episode “The Fawn”), which was like a very similar image in a photograph Zsuzsanna sent me before we met of her feeding a deer.

Zsuzsanna’s right knee was miraculously healed (even though doctors said it could never be) when we first met and shared meditations. Although there are other layers, two are interesting and fit perfectly. One is a ghost story related to Kali as a demonic living statue (though I no longer have that comic book). On Thursday, February 14th, 1974, I saw “The Waltons” episode “The Ghost Story.” “Strange things are occurring at the Walton home. The family uses a Ouija board to ask questions about the happenings. A small boy staying at the home is to leave to meet his father. Things happen to prevent this.” The original newspaper summary: “John-Boy obtains a ‘spirit board’ which is reputed to foretell the future and to put its interrogators in touch with the psychic world. When the board appears to be delivering mysterious messages, Grandma and Olivia insist that the children stop playing with it.”

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The trapdoor spider in my dream seems associated with a Ouija board (which is dependent on the use of hands and which is what a spider also represents in some dreams in a negative context), also representing Kali, also representing “messages” in the liminal stages of sleep which have various transpersonal sources. Because my 1971 dream features doorway waking symbolism using Kali, it seems a relevant marker. On one level, it serves as a personal confirmation against so-called psychics, “dream interpreters,” or ideas from questionable sources.

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Morning of January 9, 2016. Saturday.



In my dream, I am, for whatever reason (and with a presumed but undetermined back story) on a tourist bus somewhere in South America. I am not sure of which country though the odds logically favor Brazil.

I am with my two youngest sons, though the bus is crowded and people are mostly in random seats apart from each other, including a group of girls who talk to each other from different parts of the bus. There also seem to be locals (of whatever region we are in) on the bus. My two youngest sons are the only other dream characters that are familiar in any way.

The bus is apparently on its way to the airport where people will then get to their designated flights. However, when the bus driver gets off the bus due to difficulties with a semi blocking the grassy parking area exit to the road, the bus starts to roll a bit down an embankment until it hits a large tree covered with vines. When I look out the door of the bus to the right, as I am now near the driver’s seat to see what is going on at the front of the bus, I see that the semi is actually turned on its side. One of the tourist guides, a young male (probably not even as old as twenty), who is sitting on the overturned semi-trailer, tells one of the female passengers to shut up when she reminds the bus driver that the arrival at the airport needs to be at a certain time. The person looks a lot like an obnoxious and evasive co-worker I had years ago when I worked at the Onalaska Cemetery even though I do not make this direct association during my dream.

The bus continues to remain in its position and the driver does not return. Soon, about five local South American police officers board the bus for an unknown reason. I get the impression my sons and I will miss our flight back to America (even though I live in Australia in real life). I decide we will walk to the airport even though it is likely miles away. I ask one police officer (an older chubby dark-skinned male with a mustache) if my sons and I can leave the bus and he nods to me in a friendly manner.

After I get off though, I notice my sons are not with me so I call to them and they get off the bus and join me. I had gotten off from the side door from the middle of the left side of the bus even though the door near the driver’s seat was on the right side. I do not know if there are any buses designed like this as it would not be sensible, though it may be a distortion of having been on both American and Australian buses. The police had mainly come in through the back of the bus as well as a couple from the side door.

My sons and I go down a steep embankment with high grass in a somewhat jungle-like clearing. I realize that it will be very difficult to walk to the airport (north of our location), and it looks like the bus will not move for a long time. No one has come to offer help regarding the overturned semi that still blocks the tourist bus’s path as well as police cars and a couple military vehicles. My sons and I were the only ones allowed to leave the bus for whatever reason. All of the people on the bus are considered as suspects and witnesses of an unknown crime.

I decide that I will use teleportation (even though I am not lucid) to take us all home. I close my eyes and concentrate on getting home and as I open them again, there is a shift in consciousness. I open my eyes and the three of us are in the living room on Loomis Street (where I have not been since 1994). I know my wife Zsuzsanna will be returning from the store soon.

Teleportation, flying, and telekinesis are extremely common even in my non-lucid dreams, but what gets me is the continuous recurrence of places (and unusual composites that utilize their features) where I have not been in over twenty years. Because the Loomis Street location is where many of the miraculous and unexplained links to the Source occurred, there may be some relevance there rather than as just a setting. More on this will be in another entry of this date and the difference between teleportation events and flying events relative to locations.

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This morning, I dreamt of three of my previous homes and my present one. Loomis Street, King Street, Barolin Street (Australia), and our present home.

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Morning of January 2, 2016. Saturday.



I am sitting in a very small waiting room it seems, featureless other than benches built into the wall on each of two opposite sides (for the length of the wall) though I am not sure what the waiting room is for - possibly a school of some kind. The walls, floor, and ceiling (and even the benches) are white. Curiously, I do not recall seeing a door on either my left or right even though a young version of my wife Zsuzsanna somehow walks into the little room from my right. (I am seemingly not concerned about there being no doors in the room.) She is wearing black slacks and a black top with white polka dots. She sits across the room facing me.

I reach over and lift her top a few inches with my left hand (and to her right) and ask her “what sort of belt is that?” not being sure I would actually see a belt prior to lifting her blouse. I am thinking either real leather or synthetic but she only smiles and does not say anything. The belt is also black.

After a short time, a 1950s song (probably what you would call a novelty song since singers do not usually blow raspberries while they are singing) plays loudly and suddenly (from an unseen source though mostly from above and behind my right shoulder), one I have not heard since possibly 1978. It goes “black slacks (vocal raspberry-like effect) black slacks…” by Joe Bennett And The Sparkletones. The last time I heard it was when I was doing a break-in cassette (of the type Dickie Goodman produced) of about a whole hour - and possibly he used it as well (a good “answer” to “what was he wearing?”) The main video on Google is amusing, as they are wearing white slacks while performing it.

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It was rather strange to have an old song I have not heard in years “break in” to my dream like that from an unseen source; some sort of totally unexpected nostalgia, perhaps (not for the song, which I consider absurd albeit vaguely amusing), but from when I used to make break-in recordings for my classmates and a couple relatives. The room represents the real-time liminal space between sleeping and waking. Zsuzsanna’s presence in this case might be a factor of shared dreaming.

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