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Morning of May 14, 2015. Thursday.



My wife and family and I seem to be living in our present home on W Street though I get the vivid impression that our house is rotated completely around by 180 degrees (there being a very clear in-dream awareness of the real-life “kitchen space” now as the rotated living room in relative directional awareness), thus our front door faces the south into our implied backyard and alley beyond. However, I cannot be certain how the rest of the neighborhood’s layout has been altered by my dream’s rendering as I am never outside at any point. The front wall, where the window otherwise is, is different in that it has the potential to be a portal into another world. This portal (or implied inter-dimensional gateway that could give access to several different alternate worlds depending on the setup) is seemingly controlled by at least four bricks that are arranged in a line and used with some sort of incantation I think or at least by having each brick in a particular special position in contrast to every other (it may even relate to four bits in the construct of half a byte though it seems like some sort of ancient technology related to a lost civilization).

At one point, I place the four bricks on the floor near the sofa. I put them in a row of four and each brick in its specific place, though in lieu of instructions someone else gives me, but the portal still appears in the wall, revealing an outside area beyond (where our front porch would actually be seen through the window). It almost seems like some sort of wharf immediately beyond (though does vaguely cause me to consider that part of it is “still” our porch). My older brother Earl (deceased) and an unknown male are going to go into this other world, supposedly for a short time, to explore the area and possibly take notes for a possible later documentary or book. My brother only looks to be in his late twenties here. Although it was decided that they first visit the culture that invented the system, there are no organic traces of that society apparently, due to so many thousands of years having passed (though some buildings, including temples with religious motifs, are still there).

A short time later, it is realized that the wall has closed up, possibly due to someone accidentally moving one of the control bricks on the floor. A few other unknown people are visiting and want to make sure my brother and the other male are able to get back. I try a few different arrangements of the four bricks, but the wall remains “doorless” (or without the portal to the other world) for about twenty minutes. Meanwhile, I discover that by touching a brick a certain way or tapping it on the floor, it doubles into two bricks. This seems problematic, as the more bricks there are, the more possible patterns that can be made, complicating the potential to implement the right arrangement by chance. Somehow, I end up with about ten bricks, a couple of them being slightly smaller.

I get rather annoyed and throw a brick so that it hits the side of the sofa. Oddly, it turns into a can of Sunkist Orange Soda. A few other bricks also transform into drinks when I throw them, including a few cartons (half pints) of chocolate milk, which are shared with the visitors. I sit down on the couch on the right end to drink from my Sunkist can and I end up drinking rapidly emerging foamy soda. The detail and sensations are quite vivid and realistic. I worry about wasting too much of it, but am able to drink it quickly enough so that most of it is consumed. In afterthought, the augmented sense of touch in this case (and even the associated slurping sounds) is somewhat amazing though I do not become lucid. It is possibly one of the most vivid and realistic drinking sensations I have ever had in a dream to date.

I carelessly attempt different positioning of the bricks, throwing a couple more at times in frustration, including at the front inner wall. Eventually though, the portal appears (via a random experimental arrangement of the bricks on my part, of which there are about six left) and my brother and the other male walk into the living room. The area behind them looks exactly like the same “wharf” from earlier in my dream. My brother says that he and the other man had been in the other realm for nearly a year, though he looks about ten years older than before. I tell him that the portal had only been closed for about twenty minutes.

Later, there is some sort of shift where I look out from a different “porch” of some kind from the west side of the house. There is a vague concern of a giant creature (perhaps King Kong) or large stylistic dinosaur (or Godzilla) appearing from over the eaves somewhere. This never occurs and I am not that fearful of the potential. I eventually cannot quite place where I am. In fact, I seem to be in two different locations at the same time, yet both of which are nearly the same - and in addition, while being disembodied in perspective of a third location that is also very similar. I continue to ponder on the three different “same” places and whether or not a monster will soon appear in any of them, though again, nothing happens as I slowly wake.

Morning of May 14, 2015. Thursday.



In the first part of my dream, we seem to be living in our present home on W Street, though it seems isolated and near a beach at one point. There seems to be an implication of beach land both south and north of us. For a time, I get an unusual sense of the end of the world approaching, though it resolves into lesser thoughts of mild uneasiness at the thought of all that is of mankind ceasing to exist one day (but probably not in my lifetime). This is seemingly caused by my wariness of how the moon appears above the horizon to the north in the nighttime sky and being of an unusual yellowish orange color. When I look out, I see, other than the eerie moon, mostly only a featureless beach to the north, the shoreline running somewhat north to south, west of our house.

In another scene, I am admiring my (fictional) black leather jacket and black leather pants that had been draped over the back of a chair in the dining room (which we presently use as a bedroom). (I do not presently own any such apparel in reality and only wore such clothes over twenty years ago.) I think of the jacket (though which is more like a shirt design) and pants as the “only” clothes that are ever worth wearing. They look very new and “perfect” in every way. I decide not to presently wear them, though, as I get the impression that elderly ladies, as well as some elements of local authority, would frown upon such a thing and have an entirely different idea about who I am than anything related to truth, which would prove to be problematic since people are often incorrectly judged solely by what they wear.

At another point, I see my oldest son, who comes into the other room and sits on a couch briefly, as I watch through an indoor window (similar to the real one in the inner wall in the front room) and have a short-term concern about his well-being (in real life he just had a wisdom tooth and another one pulled the day after this dream) though he does not see or regard me at any point. The layout and distance orientation seems different; a strange sort of shifting southward so that my son’s room is seemingly where the kitchen is in reality, yet I also get a vague feeling of looking into the living room in Cubitis through the indoor window though it also seems to be some sort of one-way mirror at one point.

At another point, I open the door that in real life is to my oldest son’s room (from off the living room) though instead of a larger bedroom it is a somewhat spacious closet (about one-fifth the size of the real room) with at least three wooden built-in shelves going all the way around each wall. Most of the shelves are filled with larger plastic toys and action figures, it seems. From the middle shelf to my left, I pick up some sort of odd large robot-looking contraption (also made solely of plastic), which is mostly blue and white, and the legs are loose and hang down as if partly detached (and though it vaguely reminds me of Lego blocks in some sections, I do not think it is Lego). I think about fixing it though I am not sure what it is or how it works, though take it to the living room to check it and wake soon after.

Morning of May 13, 2015. Wednesday.



My wife and I are looking through a large window. The setting is seemingly my old bedroom in Cubitis though the window (not as it was in real life) is seemingly just an open area to look through a wall to the south (without any window features to block or distort any of the sky scene). I study the nighttime sky and notice a series of red and blue stars in no particular pattern. Some of them do imply a vertical line, though not straight. They also seem to be planets at some points and all the round shapes are all the same size. I have a slight concern as to whether or not this is a possible threat (and concern about how close these supposed stars or planets are to Earth), but it is not that clear an emotion. There are about a dozen in all, not that close together, though somewhat constellation-like.

The imagery is not quite right, though. I sometimes get the impression at times that some of the cloud cover is behind a few of the stars which is of course impossible. Also, I seem to be aware that the stars are casting shadows against the backdrop of space, which is also ridiculous. Still, the imagery is beautiful. It reminds me of my prenatal memories and what seemed to be prenatal dreams, the main one featuring red and blue stars - or mostly the change of such, and their coming into existence or fading depending on my level of attention and focusing upon them or their potential to exist, almost as if they represented how conscious I was in the womb (relative to their brightness).

Morning of May 12, 2015. Tuesday.



I had a very peaceful and enjoyable long dream considering the recent NBN fiasco just outside our window where there was also a long loud argument later today between a young female and a lineman about why the telephones were not back on after a day.

In my dream, I am in Tel Aviv, Israel with my wife and several people I knew more about in my school days, ready to become involved in a long music concert as the main performer (and I switch instruments at times). Some first members of the audience (mostly female in traditional Persian dress for some reason) stand on a mezzanine viewing us getting together on the first floor stage (though there are eventually more people on the first floor prior to the concert beginning). This makes me slightly wary at first, though I feel very assertive and confident throughout the rest of my dream even though things seem weird on a secondary level at times (like a wavering dream within a dream that is somewhat like having two or more dreams at the same time; fairly rare, but experienced enough to know the phenomenon in a familiar sense).

My dream concert follows the general pattern of a recurring song set which varies in some versions of the scenario. Before we start, I notice two (unfamiliar) dark-haired girls, seated on the floor and leaning against the wall, who seem to be faithful fans of my group, though the group does not even seem to have a name (at least not one I can remember in this case). Oddly, one of the girls is wearing sunglasses, which takes me a moment to perceive as such - because the sunglasses have painted-on human eyes, a bit larger than normal, so that her appearance is somewhat eerie. The other girl is missing her left eye, which instead, is a mostly featureless area with barely discernible wrinkles. I do not comment on either oddity. There is also a light-haired girl who seems a bit too pale and I ask her where she is from. She comments that she does not actually live in Israel but that her family is on a vacation.

I notice a male seated at a picnic table and facing me (though talking to others on his right about technical details of our upcoming show) at the second picnic table back on the opposite side from me. He is seemingly a member of my music group and I contemplate whether or not he is Orlando Jones (the actor from “Sleepy Hollow”; the television series) or my friend from middle school days who is now a well-known singer in Germany in real life. I conclude that he is my old friend Roosevelt and it is very good to see him here.

When we are ready, we seem to go into ad-lib or practice modes now and then, making the songs quite a bit longer and more interesting, with many dynamics that are not in the original recordings. These new versions of the songs (via my imagination) have gradually built up over the years, becoming more and more theatrical and intriguing in their fullness. At one point, an unknown older male with a harmonica infuses some additional nice-sounding impromptu bars. In the offset (dream within a dream) there is the focus on at least two members playing cereal boxes like guitars, held at an angle. Guitar-like music can still be heard in this case.

The first song performed is “Speak to the Sky” (originally done by Rick Springfield), which typically starts out with me playing the opening on a banjo and soon joined in crescendo (in the next verse) by drums, keyboards, and other vocalists (doing occasional intense harmonics that repeat part of a phrase I sing now and then, such as “I am blind” just after my phrasing, or fuller phrases such as “seems awful hard to find” at the same time as my phrasing). The audio of my voice seems amazingly well-rendered in my dream but does not sound like my real voice and also has an unidentifiable accent (almost like a composite of French and Romanian) - and there are also a few unusual “glitches” here and there (typical of dreams). However, in this particular dream, instead of a banjo, it seems I am actually playing the opening on a ukelele with somewhat of an odd muted sound at one point (though there are a few “resets” and offset “dream within a dream” sections). (“Doesn’t always rhyme” is usually done with more of a longer pentuplet feel, requiring a brief change in the otherwise 4/4 timing.)

The second song we perform is “Dear Prudence” (originally a Beatles song), where I start out playing something that sounds a bit like the style of Jeff Lang (the best slide guitarist I have ever heard) but then I quickly switch to an electric bass by grabbing it from the person on my left when the song changes from the sustained beginning bass notes to the intimate, almost overwhelming bass riff (possibly one of the best bass lines I have ever heard, the second being from Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sheriff”).

After the first two songs (and in one “reset” there are also unusual-sounding horn sections - almost cinematic in style), my dream begins to decay into unusual “resets” and repeating patterns and becoming somewhat abstract, but remains a very positive dream experience until I wake.

Morning of May 7, 2015. Thursday.



My dream has a section near the beginning involving some sort of philosophical discussion by a relative, one who always had a very pessimistic view of (his) life, yet often acted like a clown. However, the things he is saying in-dream are not really relevant or “real”, almost as if we are in an alternate timeline at a much younger age - as it seems it could be as long ago as 1978. During this time, I am using telekinesis to move a few smaller things around on a table. We are in the Loomis Street house yet again, but one area later on seems to be in Brisbane rather than La Crosse, yet still connects directly to the area. My (deceased) sister is also nearby at times, in the house.

Later, I am walking (seemingly northward) in an unknown area of what is likely Brisbane (though again, still somehow connected to La Crosse in America). On my left is an unknown younger male. As we are walking, I contemplate using telekinesis to actually lift buildings, although I reason that it would probably not be a good idea as it would require breaking the foundation. I do move a few smaller things. There is a large truck parked near an intersection and I am able to make it rise in the air by about ten feet. It stays in midair for a few minutes. I note that in dreams, there is a particular feeling when telekinesis is active and working, which is a bit hard to describe. It is somewhat like a subtle wave of relaxation and focus. Curiously, telekinesis seems far more common in non-lucid dreams, though I have had it in fully lucid ones (usually only involving the manipulation of doors and cups which jump into my hand). After a short time, the truck falls back to its original position, but the right front tire and axle area is damaged. The owner, who has just arrived by this point, looks at it curiously. I feel a bit regretful about damaging his truck, but he has no idea how it happened.

Later, I am back at the Loomis Street house and only my sister is around at first, appearing again as she did around 1978. There is some sort of movie-like infusion into my dream at this point, but it is somewhat distorted. I hear some sort of “soundtrack” for a short time. I move a few smaller things again but sometimes my ability seems varible at times, possibly caused by a disruption of in-dream focus by real environmental sounds (which sometimes “script” entire scenes in dreams in some cases).

My brother-in-law comes in and I keep easily moving a ketchup bottle and a salt shaker around on the large table with telekinesis, always out of his reach. He seems a bit frustrated but also does not seem to fully catch on that I am responsible for the unexplainable movement.

Lastly, my in-dream presence and character seems to change to that of a girl whose (unfamiliar) mother is mad at her for practicing witchcraft. Oddly however, the mother seems to be using some sort of dark magic (or perhaps ritualistic negative “prayer”) to project at me to officially disown me as well as harm me somehow. This seems quite hypocritical. We project some sort of shapeless energy at each other, but there is a force field or invisible protective barrier between us. Our “battle” seems somewhat futile. The environment is quite distorted and undefined by that point though I sense we are each near a corner in a mostly empty room, about fifteen feet between us.

Morning of May 3, 2015. Sunday.



I had gone to a website in real life (one I use on a day to day basis in K12 education but associated mainly with Australian curricula) to get the template (a “gladiator helmet”) of a craft I had planned for my youngest son. When the page loaded however, it was solely a hacking message supposedly by a religious fundamentalist group who had “replaced” the entire website, talking about Jihad. Obviously, I quickly decided that this “hacked page” was actually not done by a religious group at all (or even adults), but very likely immature ten to twelve-year-olds with no actual religious goal - just an attempt to pointlessly annoy people. (After all, what sort of adult would brag about hijacking a commercial website for children’s educational resources including Kindergarten crafts - pathetic.) Only a few hours later, the entire real website (and all of its thousands of pages) was back up with no indication of the so-called prior hack. No publicity resulted at all to my knowledge, though I did not bother to research the event.

At any rate, in my dream, instead of the fake “Jihad group”, it was gladiators that took over the website. In the lower left-hand corner I see a photograph of a supposed gladiator looking menacingly out at the viewer. I reason that the gladiator helmet template is probably still available as such in this case, and in fact, it is the primary link on the top of the page. I wake up with a sort of feel-good subtle sensation of having laughed for a long time.

Morning of May 2, 2015. Saturday.



In the first part of my dream, I find myself going into a bank while I believe my intentions were to enter a grocery store - though it takes a short time to consider my intent. I seem to be two or three blocks west of my (deceased) sister’s Loomis Street house though all of the buildings are seemingly unknown (fictional). After a short time, I realize that I can become invisible and perhaps take what I want. I actually become invisible while standing there (and there are no other customers) but the tellers (behind a large and fully open counter area) do not really react (at least not in any vicarious fashion). I go to the east side of the room (even though, again, the building is unfamiliar yet in a familiar area on Gillette Street in La Crosse and with a recognizable directional orientation) and find a more secure room that is off limits to the public. A male is seated behind a desk but because I am invisible, I walk over to the mostly empty rows of shelves (or so it seems at first) and explore. The male leaves the room and I pick up some large silver coins, which include at least one Australian fifty-cent coin and one Australian twenty-cent coin (even though, again, I am in America and do not really think about this). I incorrectly reason that I have a dollar with these two coins together but it is actually seventy cents. However, I take many more silver coins and leave the bank, still unseen.

I walk easterly and just before I get to the Loomis Street alley (which runs north and south) a post office jeep turns from the alley (very unlikely) and drives toward me. It then tips over on its side farther onto the sidewalk than I am walking because of a rather odd attempt to avoid both me and a car coming from the other way (though this could certainly not happen in the real world). The scene seems to play out in a sort of unusual slow motion. No one seems to be hurt and I keep walking, turning south into the alley.

It turns out that my wife Zsuzsanna and family and I now live in the Loomis Street house, though it is much different inside. What used to be the “junk room” (as my sister called it) but is actually a bit like an enclosed verandah is here similar in structure to a room in our present house on W street, including the wobbly floorboards. Not only that, there is a large room directly beneath in a supposed basement, but of a living room quality and illogically (and likely wrongfully) perceived at this point as being of the first floor at ground level, and the kitchen I am in being possibly on the second floor. There is a small square opening in the floor of the room I am looking into but it is only big enough for a small dog or cat to get through. In fact, I worry that our two cats (fictional, as they are not the same breed as ours in reality, one being a ginger tabby, another a calico, I think) will soon fall through that hole - as they are also in the room with my wife and I also see a guinea pig running around on the floor near the hole. Our two cats soon fall through. Looking down, which seems at least ten feet, I first think I see blood on the tip of the tabby’s tail, but this turns out to be a misconception. The two cats look up at me and I report to my wife that they are both seemingly okay. My wife seems “trapped” on the other side of the room (even though there is an outside door on her side - though that would only be the case if rendered correctly in-dream) but carefully walks over in my direction near the doorway, as the floorboards become more and more wobbly and problematic to walk on and I worry the floor may collapse completely (though this does not seem to happen after she exits the room). I make a mental note that the room needs to be closed off.

Later, I seem to return to the bank to invisibly take something else; some sort of large silver horse head (from the same room as the coins), probably about five inches long but apparently worth near a thousand dollars or more. I notice the house is looking much more like the Barolin Street house when I return to put what I have taken in a secure spot somewhere.

Morning of April 29, 2015. Wednesday.



This was a mildly stressful dream with religious overtones (even though I am not religious by nature - though this is more due to the unexplainable events continuously experienced throughout my life).

In my dream, I am living with my wife (and probably our children) in Cubitis yet again. (I have not been there since 1978 and my wife has never been to America.) The area has a different feeling, though. It may be present time; this is uncertain.

A dark-haired supposed female classmate as she might appear now (relative to being near the correct age), though seemingly fictional, visits for some reason (or is possibly coincidentally in the area and I happen to notice her car parked just off the highway). I have an unusual idea to travel with her to town (even though I do not know her name as it is not mentioned to my knowledge), southerly, but which is also seemingly fictional as it is called Mayfair, not Arcadia. This is a bit odd as I have never heard of Mayfair in Florida or at least do not remember such a place name. I feel a bit strange at leaving my wife at the house, though Mayfair seems fairly close, less than ten miles away, perhaps. Best friend Toby T is in the back of my mind as well, and I recall that I have not seen him for years. I talk with the female about how I seemed as a child and throughout school, and no negativity is expressed.

At one point, after my dream apparently shifts, the female’s car is in a parking lot and we are ready to go on to Mayfair. As is typical in my dreams, the car is rendered rather oddly; way too small, and somewhat unrealistic in overall appearance. I have to get in by putting my left foot on the floorboard, which is all there is room for (seeming about the size of a smaller ride-on lawnmower at this point), and hanging on while remaining half in and half out of the vehicle. My female driver has to do the same thing, and after a short time, leans back to recline almost horizontally as she then begins driving the car backwards for a time. I had gotten the impression immediately after getting in that the car would not get very far from being extremely weighted down, but there is no trouble.

Later, things seem a bit more “realistic” as I then seem to be inside a seemingly normal car looking out the window. I see a lot of very strange, nearly surreal, light-colored buildings, some of which look made out of unrealistically close tiers of seashells. One larger building stands out a bit more clearly, but a lot of similar buildings appear over time. The area also seems elevated and higher on a hill (where there are none in any region near where I lived in reality).

We end up near an area that reminds me of my middle school and after a time, people become annoyed by things I am saying about the past and certain ideas and choices people made (in reality, many people I knew no longer live in Arcadia). I end up floating several feet above the ground and shouting things like “You are the ones who are evil, you are the ones who are bullies”, and so on (probably a highly distorted “replay” of the afternoon of March 15, 1974). This seems to have been instigated by blue light coming out of my left hand and getting brighter at times and thus people became suspicious even though it was related to healing intent. I then begin talking about the “bride of the lamb” (not in direct reference to Christ or the church in this case but a marriage of soul mates). I also mention my full birth date, which is apparently supposed to mean something to these people (though here it only related to pointless “news” such as: "A rare planetary alignment will occur during the winter solstice; it occurs every 24,000 years; at the end of the day December 20 2012, at midnight.“ - which is likely just misinformation by "doomsayers”).

I end up flying off with two people (one on each side) who I am not even sure want to leave Mayfair, but we do anyway. It is possible that the dark-haired female (on my left) is another version of my wife even though my wife also stayed behind in the first part of my dream.

Curiously, I found out that Mayfair is actually a hotel in Miami (nowhere near Arcadia, though) in a place called Coconut Grove, it seems. It looks like the same building (from my dream) though I am fairly certain I had not seen it before or at least remembered it.

Morning of April 28, 2015. Tuesday.



This is a series of three dream events that are not directly related. The first is a love-making scenario with wife Zsuzsanna in a completely unfamiliar location indoors. The bed, which is in a corner of the room, is at least twice as wide as it should be and a bit longer.

Later, I am in the front room of our present home on W Street and my old foreman from La Crosse (Pat, deceased) is there, standing closer to the front door. There are at least five or six computer towers with the cases off that he (and perhaps myself) is supposedly responsible for fixing up or upgrading and they are all sitting upright at random angles on the floor. All of the computers seem to belong to an unknown female, possibly a businesswoman involved in production of the (unknown) company. The scene is somehow related to a new computer game or new technology related to computer games which is not yet released to the general public. However, there is confusion over the work to be done as I look on. I know there is something about an internal data bus related to the work, though there is writing on the back of each computer tower near the top and by the power supply (which seem to not be operational). Soon, there is confusion over what is being referenced, as I realize that “bus” is an anagram for USB. Therefore I start to reason that the work involves a universal serial bus. I look on the back of a couple of the computer towers and see various forms of fictional “words” made with the letters from USB; seemingly random patterns like UBSUBUU and similar, usually with an unknown female’s signature, which I do not quite understand. Part of this is vaguely precognitive, as my oldest daughter’s computer’s adapter stopped working earlier this morning and she needs a new one.

In another scene, I seem to be at our present home, though there is no furniture in the area I am in. An unknown male (possibly Pat again; unsure) has a watering can indoors to my right. There is a large potted plant near the west wall also to my right. I am working while sitting on the floor with some sort of device that edits digital movies. For some reason, there are two parts of the movie that, when the frames begin in a particular section, actual water has to be poured onto the device to go into the movie (which does not make any sense, really) in that set of frames only - to only cover a certain number of minutes. I think one part is a scene where my two youngest sons are outside playing with a sprinkler or garden hose or at least playing or walking around outside. The other male splashes some water on the floor with the watering can but also waters the potted plant fairly well. (Often, the sound or awareness of water makes me lucid, but not in this case.) I wait so that I can use the watering can to properly “edit” the movie but wake prior to this task, having to go to the bathroom.

Morning of April 27, 2015. Monday.



I am not sure of the setting (which is indoors throughout) as it is not that defined or clearly rendered, though it does include at least a kitchen and seemingly a living room. The main focus relates to at least two cans of large strawberries. There are possibly more cans on the counter near the refrigerator. My wife is in my dream and asks me about one of the cans. I eat and taste at least a couple strawberries (which I take to the living room), which are much larger than normal and they also seem more dense but not to an extent of being problematic to chew though I do comment on this to my wife. The strawberries in another can seem more palatable. However, the size of the strawberries is not realistic even regarding the cans they were supposedly in, each can of which originally is “known” to have several strawberries but which would only hold about two when looking more closely at my dream’s rendering of size relationships. It is possible that the cans are of two different brands and that my wife and I are trying to work out which brand is better.

The main focus of the last scene of my dream relates to trying to read the writing on a can, which goes all the way around the can for about two or three groups of four or five lines. Although I am able to clearly see and read it, it is mostly badly broken English and gibberish, most of which I do not now recall. I know as I read it, there does not seem to be much information about the strawberries. One of the words is “screwdriver” (perhaps in using one as a can opener?) though there are many other words in the senseless sentences. I continue to read the gibberish aloud (with clear audio of my voice) until my dream fades.

Although it is common to see and try to read gibberish in dreams (which sometimes keeps changing each time you look back at it), this particular scene connects me with something I had recently seen and thought about in real life as well as vaguely reflecting on in the back of my mind in my dream, including talking to my wife about it. Although all online “dream dictionaries” I have seen are little more than gibberish, I found a site that was even worse than usual. It was so bad, much of it was like an incoherent series of random words and Yoda-like grammar. I marveled at the site for about twenty minutes, not a waste of time due to my great amusement. Unfortunately, I cannot find the site again as I did not bookmark it. The site had hardly any formatting and was mostly all plain text (just as the can in my dream did not have any images on it). However, it is possible I was looking at something which had been very badly translated through three or more languages over time, the end result being completely incoherent, which is interesting, as it is the largest “dream dictionary” I have seen to date.

As a final note, I had learned twenty years ago that a strawberry was an in-dream visual representation of the human heart. The fact that the strawberry was a bit more dense in this dream could be reflecting two things; “hardening of the arteries” (I hope not) or less of a spiritual concern (than I used to have) for most of humanity. I will mention again how it originally incidentally stood for the waking process itself by the strawberry growing larger until fully waking (something seemingly borrowed from the last part of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” where his heart grows larger). An apple has been found to be along the same lines. (Note that a volcano also represents the human heart in some cases, with lava representing blood - more likely the case if a few lava chambers are represented in-dream. However, an erupting volcano may also sometimes metaphorically represent the waking process and little else.) Because the strawberries were in a can with incoherent writing, it may also be associated with a lesser contact with the natural world and dealing with the gibberish of mainstream pop culture (since “pop”/soda is also in a can).

Morning of April 26, 2015. Sunday.



The time period seems to be the present. My wife and I, and seemingly at least two of our children, are in some sort of store that sells various older items at discounts or unusually low prices (or so it seems at first). I am not fully sure if it is a pawn shop. The location is mostly unfamiliar though may be implied to be the pawn shop on Targo Street that we have never been in or more likely the shop (now closed and replaced by a laundromat) that was near the corner in the Parkvue building on Bourbong Street, which we only ever walked past fairly often. I make plans to buy a movie projector (in good condition) that I become more and more interested in having for some reason that now escapes me. There are a couple other things I think I will buy, but I do not recall what they are - possibly related to optional projector items. I seem to be in about the center of the store near a table. I am aware that the cost may be as much as $2,000.00, but I think there may be a sale to where it is much cheaper or possibly at least paying in installments. However, after several minutes pass, I discover that the movie projector is actually $20,000.00 (even though I seemed fairly certain of the other price) and I become angry and somewhat confused, especially as I had already begun the process of purchasing it. I am obviously not going to buy it now, though there is residual ambiguity about the whole pricing system at the store even as I wake. My dream is not that well-rendered or cohesive.

Morning of April 25, 2015. Saturday.



This is mostly a typical “being hunted” dream of the recurring type since childhood but it ends in a mostly comedic farce. This dream type, though slightly stressful during some scenarios, does not really have that much emotion at most points. I eventually have and maintain the typical three abilities in such dreams: Being able to fly whenever I want to, becoming and staying invisible, and intangibility (including the ability to travel through any wall or even person). These special in-dream abilities often create the impression of moving almost outside of my dream state at times even though I am still technically dreaming and fully in-body in most perspectives.

My dream starts with me being on a familiar city bus and looking at something on a notebook computer on the left side of the aisle, about the sixth seat back. When the bus stops, or is almost stopped at one point and I decide to get off, I hover, while in standing position, about two inches from the floor of the bus. When the bus does completely stop, I move backwards (while floating) and bump into some people seated in the back. I turn around and apologize and then leave the bus, still floating upright and not walking at any point.

From here, people are looking for me - possibly due to my special abilities (or even as a result of my bumping the people on the bus). In dreams like this, most people looking for me are not necessarily law enforcement (or dangerous criminals) but most often related to some sort of industrial business or paramilitary group. I fly for a time, and land on a few different roofs of mostly warehouses and industrial buildings. When I am lying on a roof on my side but with my head elevated and when a female is looking my way to point out where I am to the others, I decide to fly from that area and then land in an alleyway. At that point, I become invisible and eventually intangible. After this, I actually walk through someone (who is walking in my direction); an elderly businesswoman. They are not aware of me at all or that I had passed through them and they do not react in any way.

I walk through walls of some of the warehouses while there are people inside, but because I am invisible, I am not that concerned. Still, they do usually seem to have a special method for finding my general location (within about a two block range).

A Doberman (Doberman Pinscher) appears, running out from a building about half a block away, and knows where I am due to his sense of smell (even though I am still invisible). He begins barking a bit and indicating his awareness of where I am standing at this time. Not quite certain of what to do, as a few of the people will likely soon come to this area, I bend down and bite his nose off, which immediately seems quite disgusting to have to do this. The dog does not even seem that injured, though, but then randomly runs around barking in different areas and seems confused. (This is probably an incidental association with a line from “My Kingdom” by Echo and the Bunnymen, which has both “bite the nose off” and “climb the roof top” - as I had enhanced an old entry about my precognitive “Kingdom” novella though which has nothing to do with the song at all. Over the many years, I have learned that many dreams have associations with no meaning at all other than inconsequential or otherwise unrelated word associations and purely accidental puns.)

I then keep moving until I reach a stream about the same distance wide as railroad tracks and the immediate usual area around them, which is between a mostly featureless field and a higher embankment on the other side (though there are still a few old wooden buildings off to my left). The Doberman is off to my left, not knowing where I am anymore. Across the stream, the area seems far more rural, with a bit of tall grass here and there and a few trees. (Even though it is quite different, especially regarding the stream and higher embankment, it has a similar layout and essence as the area beyond the backyard in Cubitis and thus seems very loosely modeled on the area, as is the case with many other dreams that do not actually imply the area - this not being due to a particular memory but the brain simply using it for a “new” setting - I have seen this continuously throughout my life including with composite locations and bilocated features.)

Soon, about a hundred or more Irish Setters appear by approaching the edge of the embankment across the river. They are all of several different mostly solid colors in no particular order: Mostly black, darker brown, lighter rust-colored, and white. They start barking in large groups while sitting and pointing their noses upward, almost like an implied chorus, creating such a cacophony, it becomes ridiculous, and they are not necessarily barking at or sensing me, because the lines are long and they are all looking in one straight direction rather than arced around my general location. They are mostly in about three or four even suggested lines, but not fully together in any line other than in groups of about five or six. One male comes out from near where they are to see what is going on as he seems to be one of the owners or trainers. The loud sound becomes like a continuous “Ru-ru-ru-ru-ru-ru” - very realistic in the impression even though I have never heard that many dogs barking at once in real life.

These dogs on the other side of the stream are creating so much distraction and noise (as well as confusing the Doberman even more) that I know I will easily be able to move out of the range of my “hunters” from here by flying over the stream and moving on into what is probably a peaceful forest beyond. One of the males who was trying to locate me is about half a block away to my left, distracted by the dogs, some of which seem to be barking at him.

Morning of April 22, 2015. Wednesday.



This is a recurring theme but usually with different events and different settings. I have had this type of dream since early childhood. It typically involves little else than finding things loosely buried in the ground or sometimes picking up and examining things that were on the ground in supposedly less accessed areas of a residence (though sometimes things are found under tiles or loose floorboards). Commonly, such “treasures” are Hot Wheels cars and in some cases, baby toys, board game tokens, or things I have made myself (even out of cardboard). They generally have a slightly different mood and awareness level as my recurring coin-finding dreams.

My family and I are living at our present address on W Street though the layout of the backyard is different. The tall wooden fence that divides our backyard from the neighbor’s backyard only goes out from within the middle area so that there is open space both near our house and farther back towards the perpendicular back fence, each open space about four feet across.

The first thing I find is a small wooden box (with smaller compartments) that first contains only letters written by people of a dream journal site (to each other) that I used to post at. It is almost like looking at the continuity of forum activity but with physical elements (sparsely recurring concept - sometimes forum activity is expressed in dreams as personal notebooks by which the usually ink handwriting of different people somehow “teleports” from different pages in other notebooks to appear in each person’s notebook - this idea was originally precognitive as now there are types of computers called “notebooks”, though in this dream the “posts” are seen as separate letters implying postal mail).

Over time, there are thicker envelopes that I notice in the compartmentalized box (though actually they were not there previously). Two of the envelopes become thicker and turn out to contain clocks of the type that you need to wind up every now and then - they were somehow referenced by a member of the dream journal site being from a particular company and somehow materialized in the box just from the mention of it (I am not lucid at any point). However, I end up breaking both of them by winding them too tight, but which only takes a couple of turns to do this with one and the other already seems wound too tight, so that just turning it slightly breaks it. The sense of touch and motion in feeling the gears slip and spin within each clock is very vivid. I feel a bit frustrated, though, as I thought it would be interesting to have one on a book shelf. One of them starts ticking again, but stops in a short time.

Over time, many other items are found; mostly small plastic toys of different colors suitable for our youngest son. A lot of them are ball-like and sphere-shaped, some with a hole or notch to suggest they fit onto something else (perhaps a soccer player figure), a few with different crosshatch textures. Meanwhile, a menacing dog apparently emerges from a car and jumps over the neighbor’s back fence but is not seen by us and there is no actual threat. There are two men in their backyard contemplating the event. There are also several unfamiliar children next door. They sometimes come into our yard. It seems late at night at this point though my dream remains semi-dark during much of it; the time changing inconsistently from scene to scene (as in many of my dreams).

At one point, an elongated bird cage is lifted out from being buried near the fence and then somehow elevated near the fence at about head level. (During this scene, my dream’s implied time temporarily changes to late morning before illogically shifting back to nighttime again in the scenes that follow). It turns out to contain a small aardvark (which I or my wife perhaps had as a pet at one time but somehow forgot about) which is “obviously dead” at first. However, it comes to life and begins to walk around, apparently very hungry after all this time - its head nodding expectantly, and it moves like an animal theoretically becoming more “unfrozen” as time progresses. It supposedly is of the type that eats only soft seeds. We have various plant seeds around, but not soft ones and I think about what we could feed it; perhaps grass seed for now if enough taller stalks are around by the fence. (This seemingly has something to do with once reading in an encyclopedia years ago in real life that aardvarks can only eat soft-bodied insects such as termites and cannot eat ants due to their acidity and harder exoskeleton. However, most of the information on the Internet now conflicts with this.)

Later on, I become somewhat annoyed by two of the neighbor’s sons (of around thirteen), who sit in the far side of our backyard near the fence - seemingly on our washing machine (which seems ill-placed and is in the house in reality), though facing away from our house and in an area to my right. I do not want to seem rude or aggressive so I do not pursue this impression of imposition and accept it as the neighborhood norm. My youngest daughter seems just a bit older and close to being able to communicate coherently and sits near me on my left. We are sitting on some sort of long bench or elevated wooden plank. The neighbor children give her a couple items, including candy. My youngest son is also nearby. There are other scenes where I find mostly board game tokens on the ground, including a chess pawn which I study for a time. It has some ambiguity as I am trying to work out if it is meant to be a person instead (possibly a Lego figure), as it seemingly has a “head” and a “body” but does look more like a pawn. (This is based on a real-life event where something similar happened. I even called it a “man” and placed it near a toy plastic tree for my youngest daughter.)

Morning of April 21, 2015. Tuesday.



I am yet again living back in La Crosse at the King Street “flop house” though I seem to have more possessions than at the time in reality, as they are stored neatly and almost fill much of the room. Yet again, my dream somehow easily “erases” about twenty-five years of intimate experience and memory without a hint (at least at this point) of knowing any other life (again, so much for having “full access to the subconscious” in some dream types - a concept I continue to find more and more absurd as I get older - though it does depend on the dream type and level of overall liminal perception - and supraconscious-level, “sent” dreams or dream layers, and more defined remote viewing dreams remain an extreme exception).

I am outside later, and there is an impression that the house is unstable for lack of maintenance. The owners seem to be on vacation once again, as their camper is gone. I feel a sense of urgency in knowing that the house is going to “fall over”. I try to warn a couple others on the sidewalk. However, this corner boarding house does not only collapse in a sense but actually dramatically flips like a pancake and is then perfectly upside-down. Many of the windows break and there is damage in the walls, ceilings, and floors, but it is still in mostly full form (at least the first two floors).

In a way, I am glad it has flipped like this, because I note that it will be easier to move my possessions by just going in and getting them and carrying them out over time at street level instead of tiring myself in going up and down the stairs as would normally be the case. Also, if the house had merely “fallen over”, there would be far more of a strewn mess, making it harder to find my possessions (all of this being some sort of goofy in-dream faux “logic”, I suppose). (Most of the third floor is crushed into the ground, though the second floor is now the first floor and fairly stable to move about in.)

At one point, I seem to be back inside the building, but it seems to be normal (possibly related to a typical dream “reset” or partial replay of an unfolding theme - “resets” or individual random scene replays being why people probably do not always remember the order of events as certain scenes repeat in a different order while others do not). However, it does seem to take place on the second floor, though the landlord and his wife lived on the first floor in reality, and this is where their relatives and friends also solely visit.

An extraordinarily attractive dark-haired female (who is a younger version of my wife upon conscious afterthought and realization) tells me that her mother had died in a car accident. Her mother is apparently the landlady, Mrs. W. We hug very compassionately (a common event in my dreams since childhood, and with an enhanced sense of touch, overall pressure, and weight) and she cries on my shoulder as I comfort her. It seems this female may become the new landowner and landlady, although I still do not yet realize she is actually my wife in real life. (Also, in real life, my landlady lived to be over a hundred years old.)

Morning of April 20, 2015. Monday.



This dream was kind of a semi-abstract (as I could still at least partly discern some of the sequences) exercise in mostly random nonsense, yet had some clear points which were a bit enjoyable. There is no lucidity at any point yet I “naturally” manipulate the environment to extremes. There is so much multi-location (quite possibly the most multi-located dream I have had to date), not just sections or perspectives of bilocation, but so compressed with numerous multi-composites of various “pieces” that all somehow coexist “logically”, it was of a fairly rare type. In fact, it is impossible to discern if I am truly inside or outside at any point. For example, in the main scene, there is a small island in the ocean which is also somehow near an intersection of a large city which is also somehow in a mostly featureless room in a small house, although the sense of bilocation is not as pronounced as in many past dreams.

The first part of my dream involves some sort of quest to just take money from wherever it is seen - with the idea that there are coins everywhere in certain areas just for the taking. There still seems to be a plan based on the knowledge of where a drug dealer is known to be at a certain time. Two men (I am not yet an in-dream character) stop a young drug dealer and rob him of his profits. Oddly, he had been selling drugs (not sure of what kind) in Petri dishes. He seems upset but continues on his way. I become more integrated in my dream at this point, though it becomes more abstract regarding the overall setting.

The two men are then walking over a small island of mostly white sand and a few palm trees. I am nearby standing on the surface of the ocean, yet it still seems we are in the city somehow on the streets. I decide, for some reason, to help the men find more money that may be buried on the island. To do this, I mentally will all of the sand, several feet down, to fly into the air and flip about before falling again - like digging a ditch with telekinesis. The men watch this routine as they continue walking, but no money shows up.

From here, it seems I am actually in a big featureless room yet somehow outside at the same time near a forest - though I do seem to “dig” or “turn” one part of the otherwise solid “floor” in one area with my thoughts. This is when I start finding shining piles of Australian two-dollar coins of about two-feet high. Some parts of the coin piles are unrealistically steep relative to how strewn they seem, defying gravity somewhat, but not to any extreme point. The coin piles, of which there are about three or four of in a few different areas, seem the most realistic and vivid parts of my dream (regarding the coins themselves - and the varied levels of shininess in the piles from coin to coin) and I enjoy picking them up and letting them fall through my fingers. Even though they are only two-dollar coins, I sense there is a few thousand dollars or more in the area. Apparently, I can just take as many as I want.

However, a dwarf (wearing mostly green) appears in the area and seems to be some sort of authority figure of some kind. I try to keep my actions regarding the taking of the coins a secret. I am not sure if any of the coins actually belong to the dwarf as they may have just been dropped there and meant to be left there for no particular reason. I still plan on taking as many as possible, only a small amount at a time, but pretend I am only looking at the pile as he begins walking in the opposite direction from where I am standing near the pile. There is no threat or drama. (This part of my dream vaguely reminds me of an episode of “Cops” where a man is arrested after being caught for the second time in taking coins from a body of water where people willingly threw out their money.)