dream fragment

The dream I had on this night was very short (or I do not remember any of it except for the end).


I was in my old bedroom at my parent's house, crying on the bed because I was missing my now deceased cat Bambi. I was laying on my side and my arms were stretched out. I felt a furry animal lay down on my arms and I could feel the vibration of a purr, but I could not hear it. I opened my eyes but I could see nothing, even though I could still feel the invisible, purring cat.


That small fragment is all I remember.

I had two dreams this night but I can only remember minor details about the first one.


#1) The first dream took place in a vast plain. There was a giant half woman, half snake creature that was battling another creature that I could not see clearly. The serpent woman was talking one hell of a beating and there was blood everywhere. I do not remember anything else, not even how it ended.


#2) The second dream had me walking down a long cave-like tunnel. There were many rooms along the way that were like classrooms or workshops in a college. I was not in this place alone as there were many people participating in the classes and workshops. Most of the people were young adults and I did not recognize any of them as people I know in real time.

Passing through the first few rooms was uneventful, but in one workshop there were many bandsaws and other electric wood cutting tools that were tightly cramed together, making it very difficult to get past (and I had to get past them to get the the next room). All of the electric tools were on, adding to the danger. I did make it through, but not before almost running into and knocking over a table saw.

Another room I came to was empty of desks or tools, and the floor was made of a very smooth, reflective marble. There was a lady standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by many handsome young men lounging about on pillows. She was tall, graceful and very elegant looking. Her skin was a porcelain white and she had very long vampire-like fangs coming out of her mouth. She did not saying thing, but I got the sense that she was the caretaker of this cave-tunnel place and protected the people inside.

I was not afraid of her, and she made no threatening gestures towards me. She just smiled at me, then turned to a young man laying on a pillow and reached for him. The lady took him in her arms and opened her mouth. The young man stroked her unnaturally long vampire-like fangs for a moment before she leaned in and bit his neck. The price for her protection I suppose, but I did not see what happened next because I was anxious to move onto the next room.

I walked through a doorway and found myself outside. I was at the base of a mountain and there was a river in front of me that was draining into a vast ocean. In the river I could see parts of my family's Westfalia floating down the river. I panicked and dived in. Despite the size of the peices, I grabbed them without problem and easily pulled them to the rocky shore. A shadow fell across me and I looked up the see the procelain-skinned vampire lady and the young man she had bit smiling softely at me. I felt silly and said it was stupid to love a car so much that you would risk your life for it, but the lady said it was because I had a good soul and a lot of love to give or something like that.


When I had this dream my family was about to sell our 1986 Volkswagen Westfalia and I was sad because I had a lot of good memories in it. I have been from one end of Canada to the other in that vehicle and I miss it, even though I know that it was "just a car." I think this is why I jumped into the river in the dream to retrieve the Westfalia peices - I was reluctant to see it go.

Sept. 2, 2003:
I had this dream that my uncle had a fish-tank, only instead of fish there were hamsters swimming around in it. When I asked, "Aren't you worried they're gonna drown?" and he was like "No, they've lived in water all their life, they fell in there when they were babies". Then I dreamed I was in an office doing secretary work. There was some other stuff, but I've forgotten it already.

Sept. 4, 2003:
I had a dream, but I don't remember very much. My alarm clock went off and I hit the snooze button. Then I had a very realistic dream that mom called me on my cell phone, and the reception was really really bad, but I woke up halfway through the dream (so I know it was a dream).

I've had weird dreams, and I haven't been sleeping well... I don't know why I feel so ill but I just can't sleep. I reached that state of overtiredness that isn't caused by a lack of sleep, so much as too much stress. I mean that state where you're actually almost hallucinating, and you're paranoid because you're jumping at stuff that you see out of the corner of your eye, but isn't actually there. And all of the freaky dreams don't help either.

I mean, aside from the hamster-fishtank dream, I had a dream I was talking with Mom on the cell phone, but I had a nightmare too. I had a dream that I woke up and somebody was standing in my bedroom, but then I dreamed that I fell asleep again, or something. I know there wasn't anybody in my room, for several reasons. The first: my door was locked. I always lock and close my door when I go to sleep. Second, none of my roommates are like 6'3 or 6'4" tall and male. Third, it had that nice, surreal quality that makes you think "Hmm, I'm dreaming."

Night of January 10, 1991. Thursday.

Dream Number 47,590 (original system). Optimized 1 minute 45 second read.



Waking-Life Factors Underlying this Dreaming Experience:

I had slept about 15 hours, the longest I ever slept in my life. It was a cold evening, and I had felt unwell. I wrapped myself in blankets and slept on the floor of the northwest corner of the sun parlor of the Loomis Street house in La Crosse, Wisconsin. My head was northward. I was sleeping on my left side in a fetal position.

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Dream Content:

I stand near the doorway in the bathroom of the Cubitis house. There is not much light (at first) other than a soft yellowish glow from outside via the small window, but it seems to be nighttime. Several unknown people are standing around, and their attention is on an unfamiliar man on a motorcycle. He readies himself to perform a stunt.

The motorcycle turns slightly, moving from its orientation toward the toilet to being in line with the window, its headlight brightening. The motorcycle rises into the air with a soft mechanical humming, going toward the window, simultaneously "shrinking" (caused by distorted distance perception) as I wake with a need to use the bathroom.

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CAUSATION (not "interpretation"):

With this familiar dream type, imaginary kinesthesia (vivid but illusory movement and motion) begins because of vestibular phasing, caused by emerging from REM atonia (solely a result of REM sleep). (All dreams in this mode result from vestibular phasing during emergence from REM atonia but with slightly different narrative types.) This association results in imagining my dream body as a vehicle to compensate for the illusion of vestibular phasing. (There are thousands of matching examples of this process in my online journal.)

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Virtual Amnesia and Dream Errors:

A motorcycle would never have fit in the small Cubitis bathroom. The bathroom window was too small and too high for a child to climb through. I am in the Cubitis house to prevent associating the dream state with real life. (An imaginary bathroom while sleeping is useless.)

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USE YOUR BRAIN:

Try to grasp the reason the motorcycle first aimed toward the toilet but with the outcome that it left my dream's imaginary setting through the window despite the surreal (and nonsensical) implication because of my attention vacillating from dreaming to waking out of a biological need. The crowd (lack of privacy) was a secondary factor in making my dream's imaginary bathroom unusable.

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Morning of November 10, 1990. Saturday.



This particular prophetic dream revealed the actual uncommon surname of my soulmate (twin flame) and wife-to-be, who first contacted me in March of 1991; about four months after this dream. That surname was Horvath. On the television series “One Day at a Time” (1975–1984), Mackenzie Phillips played the character Julie Cooper Horvath. I was not a fan of hers (and did not find her attractive), and this is my only clearer dream about her as far as I know. The tennis court in this particular case is likely related to a play on “love” as well as courtship and marriage. We were the only characters in my dream and seemingly isolated.

In my dream, I had been playing a tennis match with Mackenzie Phillips. I am not sure of the location. It could be Florida, Wisconsin, or even California (or some sort of implied composite). I am eventually wandering through the tennis court somewhat randomly after something apparently interrupts our tennis game (such as a bottle or a rock being thrown onto the court, I think, though I am not directly aware of any other people at any point). I soon notice that she is gone or had disrespectfully (in the opinion of my dream-self) wandered off but we still have a game to finish. I spend the rest of my dream going around screaming her first name over and over, getting louder and louder, walking in a kind of zigzag pattern “MaKEEEEEHnzie! MaKEEEEEHnzie!” (possibly also a play on “I can’t see”?). I feel tense, irritated, and even abandoned. It almost seems like we are married and she had deserted me. Everything starts to turn into a mist. I get the impression that all of the other people disappeared (even though Mackenzie was the only other person I was aware of). All of the world is fading, very slowly and frustratingly (not a typical way to wake from a dream). I awake with a mild headache, seemingly having slept too long.

Morning of September 22, 1990. Saturday.



This dream has two main but distorted sections. There is a scene where I am in what could be a composite of a pawn shop and record (or music) store. It reminds me vaguely of both Leithold Music (where my father worked at one time) and the pawn shop, both in La Crosse.

There is focus on the name Omar Piper, who may be the cashier, although at one point, this is not certain. In fact, I may be perceived as this person who I had never heard of (though it may be an influence from a recent episode of “Unsolved Mysteries” where the name Omar is mentioned in a chilling and infamous arson video).

Another section of my dream relates to a tombstone that may display the name of Omar Piper. It has two cherub faces (three-dimensional reliefs) on each side. There is some sort of unusual impression as if the cherubs are alive or will be at one point (and a “reset” where lightning strikes the tombstone and partly splits it). There is a false “memory” of having a conversation with someone about whether or not there were really tombstones with engraved cherub heads as such. I hear “Is there such a thing?” as if hearing myself say it elsewhere.

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I am inclined to primarily see the cherubs as this dream’s flight symbols. There may be a connection to Valentine’s Day (relative to the cherubs), which was when my father died (1979). Still, I am inclined to believe that a headstone is sometimes a dream sign (relating to being asleep in bed), as the flight symbol pair appears on it in this case and is also unmoving, thus it seems just an atypical form of the waking transition, especially as lightning represents conscious activity and is implied to split the tombstone. References to flight in various forms seems to be one of my most common indirect dream signs (which represent the consciousness displacement of the dream state).

Morning of June 18, 1989. Sunday.



I believe there were other events prior to this main vivid scene before waking. I am in some sort of rather large belfry. There are unknown unusual people that do not look in my direction or speak to me. They are wearing pale brown robes, it seems. I get the impression that they may be monks.

I watch and see the reddish brown bells swing and hear them make very eerie tones, sounding much like the slowed-down recording of someone dropping silverware into a metal pan. The sound is somewhat discordant but still musical in a way. Something about the scene is not quite right. It seems to be just prior to sunset. (However, there is an ambiguous awareness that I am watching this in late morning, caused by my awareness of waking from my dream.)

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This dream, like many dreams (or at least the final segment), was designed to wake me up.

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I would like to clarify that I used this title as a joke, not be be descriptive.

Morning of October 9, 1988. Sunday.



This was one of those dreams that did not seem to have me as the dreamer or the main character (though I do not quite feel disembodied in-dream).

I am in an unknown house where a girl lives with her pet cat (and at least one parent, it seems) in a small town in either the UK or Australia (not sure of the accent in regards to this one - sounded almost Scottish). Although it does not seem to be a stronger or clearer version of the “mystery girl” - she did have a long-haired male whitish cat of the same breed (a silver chinchilla) when I made contact with the girl who was to become my wife in real life a few years later (in Maryborough). I am fairly certain that the town in my dream even ended in “borough” (I think it was “Landsborough” though, or something very close, not sure of anything else) but I do not know (or seem to know) the girl’s name.

The cat’s name is “Spitfire”. Mostly, my dream solely involves the cat spitting fireballs at mice and burning them up before they are eaten by the cat. As I said before, fire is a common feature in my dreams, but not as common as cool, clear water.

Curiously, “Landsborough” is actually the real name of a small town in Queensland near where we live now , but I did not know it was a real place at the time, or if I did, it did not “register” - plus, it was also very close in sound to my sister’s married surname at the time anyway.

Also, at the time, I apparently did not know (or at least think about) that one definition of “spitfire” was “a person given to outbursts of spiteful temper and anger, especially a woman or girl”. That does not seem to have any personal connection, though.

Coincidentally, my wife had a pet cat named “Sparki” when I first met her.

Morning of October 30, 1987. Friday.



My dream’s title is based on having been a fan of Marvel’s “Werewolf by Night” comic book (the original series).

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I have had similar dreams as this where I am able to focus on my hands and grow claws and feel very vivid sensations of their emergence from my fingers, even though this dream is not fully lucid, as I know things are “different” yet I do not fully associate the state with being in a dream (but I do recognize its unrealistic nature). My dream colored my mood in a very lighthearted and positive way. I believe my name as a werewolf is “Sawtooth”. My becoming a werewolf is fully determined by my own cheerful desire to and not a result of the full moon’s influence. I am also aware of wolf canines growing but this is not uncomfortable, though I do clearly feel changes and pressure in that area (through semi-lucid threads of intent at one point).

The ending of my dream provides a strong state of happiness and an augmented sense of freedom, primarily freedom from the negative aspects of human society. I have become half-wolf, half-man, but I am still running upright like a human, to the southwest. It is about ten o'clock in the morning. Not that far away, to the south, my target is a very dense (fictional) forest, the trees seemingly only a few feet apart at least on the perimeter. It would otherwise be located about two blocks south of my older sister Marilyn’s house. I am blissful about living in the deep dark forest. Even though it is late morning prior to twelve, with no full moon anywhere - and in fact the sun is shining, I hear the howls of fellow werewolves from within the woods, and although there seems like twenty or so, I never see another werewolf in my dream. I still feel a strange seemingly serious kinship, even though the overall dream at this point is quite silly. There is a very cheerful, positive feeling, although I feel as if I will somehow completely “lose” myself upon entering the forest (not in a negative sense; more like being a playful child again, free as I was in the woods of Chipmunk Coulee before I went to public school), which is to be my home from then on. However, I awake before reaching the edge of the forest, the edge being east and west and almost perfectly straight across. Upon waking, in addition to general freedom, I realize that another aspect that was in the back of my dream self’s mind, is freedom from the expectations of others.

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The main influence here was “I Was a Middle Aged Werewolf” (even though I was young at the time of this dream), a “Highway to Heaven” episode, where the angel played by Michael Landon (who was born on Halloween in 1936) was also in “I Was a Teenage Werewolf” from 1957.

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I am going to start with a dream that I vividly remember from when I was approximately six or seven years old. Up until I had this particular one I remember being able to fly whenever I wanted to do so in my dreams. I realize now that being able to control my flying in my dreams may have been lucidity, but everything changed with this dream:


The dream occured on the street that I live on, which is a in a quiet, tree-filled neighbourhood, but in this particular dream it seemed more deserted than quiet. I remember taking a long look at the clear blue sky and then running down the street and leaping into the air. I was expecting to just take off and fly like I had always done before without problems - but I floated for only a few seconds and then just fell back to the ground.

I became very upset and tried several more times to run and jump, but again I only floated for a couple of seconds and then returned to the ground. The more I tried the less I could fly and the more my frustration build. As I was failing at flying and becoming more and more upset, the sky filled with huge, dark grey thunderclouds and the wind picked up drastically. Everything became very cold and I remember feeling very frightened - but I continued to run and jump in vain attempts to fly. I just wanted to get away.


The dream becomes fuzzy after that, but I do remember that I never did fly in that dream and I have not been able fly, or have any such control like that, in my dreams since then.

Night of April 27, 1984. Friday.



There were two times in my life where I had an extremely vivid and fully in-body dream of a “melted” bicycle in a more notable way, and each time I had had a small amount of alcohol in real life prior to my dream (although I normally have not drank at all throughout my life). Thus, when I think of beer or alcohol in general, I automatically think of useless, melted bicycles, which seems to imply you “lose control” or are “unable to steer”.

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I go down the front stairs from my apartment in the King Street boarding house and onto the porch. It seems fairly late at night or very early in the morning before dawn. Soon, another person who is very drunk (Shawn P) comes out and says what a nice bicycle I have and continues to say positive things about it in a sincere but inebriated way. The bicycle is leaning against the front of the porch on the right side of the doorway. Upon taking a closer look as I am taking it out from the porch to ride it, I then see that the entire front half is partly melted and crooked and thus unusable.

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See also: The Beam (warning against alcohol?)

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Morning of April 3, 1982. Saturday.



I am in La Crosse, Wisconsin on the south side of town and west of the main library. There are a number of other people around, mostly unknown. There is a tornado coming in our direction (from the southwest), or so it seems for several minutes. I can hear the train-like rumbling sounds (like with a real tornado but which may be caused by real environmental noise such as louder traffic while sleeping). I am with some friends and we and the other people are eventually running everywhere, though mostly north.

All of a sudden, there is a strange screeching sound (again, possibly caused by real-life environmental sounds intruding into my dream without waking me, such as a vehicle’s brakes squealing). We look back and it turns out to have been an enormous caterpillar spinning a cocoon and was not a tornado. Everything is quiet now that the caterpillar has entered this stage and is vertically oriented within the giant cocoon, apparently sleeping and not threatening in any way. Additionally, I get the impression that it was not actually chasing us. We just happened to originally be in the area it was coincidentally moving towards during the faux chase. Eventually, I become semi-lucid and personally indulge in sensual pleasures in an offset scenario until I choose to wake.

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Resupplemented for a clearer and more detailed explanation on Saturday, 2 December 2017.

There are really two levels to this dream, a natural (biological) ordinary meaning and a spiritual meaning if one is so inclined. On the natural level, a tornado is a factor of RAS and inner ear dynamics as precursory waking symbolism, an extreme augmentation analogous to potential dizziness in real life. In this case, that aspect is validated by a second inner ear dynamic, the potential butterfly flight symbol, which is “frozen” and thus as a result, triggering lucidity against the subdued RAS factor (similar to the “frozen” bird silhouettes in more recent apex lucidity dreams). On one level of course, this dream was at least partly influenced by “Mothra” (a 1961 movie).

Spiritually, tornadoes represent the powerful bottom half of the Merkaba (even in my earliest childhood dreams) and, due to the “raw force” of a tornado, relate to personal dream state alchemy. (In certain trance states of deep meditation, I vividly experience the Merkaba by touching my wife Zsuzsanna on the shoulder, the Merkaba of which appears as two blue tornadoes uniting, rotating in opposite directions, with extraordinarily vivid impressions which I can only describe as seeing hundreds of different wedding ceremonies of different cultures and eras.) The transition from tornado to caterpillar-in-cocoon implies a waiting stage prior to changing into a butterfly (a type of personal ascension or implying the state of readiness for meeting my “dream girl” in real life).

Susan R (the only person other than Zsuzsanna of whom I could ever sense as existing on other levels) and Zsuzsanna (before I knew she was a real person) drew identical vertically-oriented anthropomorphic caterpillars in a top hat (as if one had been traced over the other with even the same stray line) as a part of an otherwise dissimilar story. (One of my relatives was scared and angered by seeing this as most ordinary people do not like the unexplained, though over time, changed their way of thinking and was eventually glad I had found my “dream girl” after so many precise clues over so many years.)

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“The caterpillar makes an appearance in a few other places outside ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’, such as 'American McGee’s Alice’ and the novel 'The Looking-Glass Wars’; in both of these spin-offs he plays the role of an oracle.”

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Morning of September 8, 1981. Tuesday.

Dream #: 5,377-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



I am in high school in Florida (living in Wisconsin in reality). It is a tenth-grade class with an unfamiliar female teacher of about twenty years old. I do not recognize other students. The classroom’s orientation is to the east with the entrance ahead to my left.

As the teacher speaks, her class does not pay attention. I do not feel as if I am in the setting in the last scene, though it is more vivid. I feel sad the teacher is not getting her point across. There are details from history about Napoleon and the French Revolution.

In the row to my left, about two seats ahead is a tall student with an unusual appearance who reminds me slightly of the RanXerox character. He holds his hands out in front of his chest and over his desk. He makes a gesture that implies “digging through the air,” like peddling an upturned invisible bicycle with his hands. He looks back at the class with sarcasm for the teacher, seeming to imply she is not worth hearing.

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My father made a novelty bicycle in the late 70s that he could pedal with his hands. The RanXerox character reminded me of a coworker (though I saw him as a classmate in my dream).

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“Dig” has opposite meanings. It can intend something positive (as in “I dig this teacher”) or define a sarcastic, taunting comment. The hand movement could infer a revolution (French Revolution) or an analogy to digging a hole for sleeping.

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Morning of June 7, 1981. Sunday.



There is a great battle between a hummingbird and a mockingbird near a fence on the “edge of time” or near where nothing else exists, as if it means the fate of mankind. I hear a voice say “the hummingbird rivals the mockingbird”. It also appears in print like some sort of important adage.

This dream combines a couple unusual associations related to the “song” of both birds. There is an old joke about the hummingbird “humming” - “because it doesn’t know the words” and a mockingbird “mocks” the songs of other birds, apparently.

Additionally, there may be a play on “hummock” - a general geological term referring to a small knoll or mound above ground as a subtle link to a grave - or to human mortality.

Morning of December 21, 1969. Sunday.



In my dream, I am in the playground of West Elementary School (which I attended in real life at the time). I find myself with a book, which may be “Our World Today: Europe and Europe Overseas”, which is what I had been thinking about prior to sleep. (This was a very old textbook, for a higher grade, of which had not been used by the school in years and of which my teacher gave me after I read the word “banana” when it was hyphenated to the next line. I was thankful, but saw her act as a bit peculiar.) Later in my dream, I sense that it is a book of fairy tales or perhaps the Holy Bible (though it is not thick enough to be the Holy Bible). (This association was prescient, as I received a Holy Bible as a birthday gift from a friend of my mother’s, which arrived a couple days after my birthday. Otherwise, there is an influence from an episode of “The Jackie Gleason Show” seen prior to sleep, where he, as the Poor Soul, was whisked away to fairlyand.)

After I hold the book for a time, while sitting on the concrete bench in the northwest corner of the playground, it pulls me into the air. I feel vaguely dizzy and experience an atypical flight, which is a sustained awareness of liminal space (although I am only semi-lucid). I go high into the sky and then swoop to the ground a few times while holding onto the book.

Eventually, at least three classmates are hanging on in a ladder-like form, that is, each additional student hanging onto the ankles of the one above them. Toby is one of them as well as Tina, and then Bobby. At one point, I notice it seems to be just before sunrise, although there is enough daylight to discern some detail. Eventually, I deliberately fly up, and out of the dream state in the manner of which I had exited many dreams. In this case, I had tried to hold onto the book in order to wake up with it, but I woke while gripping my pillow.

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When I was very young, I occasionally had an absurd notion of pulling items out of my dreams, primarily books and coins, though only while still in the dream state and only in partial lucidity.

As I grew older, I began to understand part of the reason for this. Both books and coins more distinctly represent emergent consciousness factors (though for entirely different reasons) and both change in appearance in dreams (often into surreal nonsense) after looking at them again due to the dream state being an illusion. Reading text in a dream is possible, as I have often read in dreams, but the text typically changes when looking at it again and typically becomes unreadable gibberish when my dream self’s imaginary visual clarity increases toward waking. In the case of coins, I learned it was an attempt to stabilize my emergent consciousness, both in the concept of coins gathering (coalescence factor, because when one starts dreaming, memories begin to distort and separate so that the conscious self identity is no longer extant until the waking transition) to become whole again (such as a one-dollar bill). Additionally, the heads on coins are static (unmoving), which represents the dream self’s absence of perceptual viability and intelligence.

This dream is mainly a result of vestibular system ambiguity, which occurs in over twenty percent of the tens of thousands of dreams I have studied and resolved since early childhood. While unconscious and entering the waking transition, being horizontal in bed is in biological conflict with the misperception of the dream self, which results in an infinite variety of features and events associated with flight, falling, and rising. Over the years, through understanding the nature of the dream state, I have learned to maintain subliminal awareness in dreams that are otherwise not viably lucid, and I often effortlessly take to the air in dreams instead of walking (though the dream self has no physical body unless it wants to). Additionally, the human ladder is redundant autosymbolism (as to flight triggered by natural vestibular system ambiguity) as it also represents leaving the dream state (climbing back to the state of consciousness).

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Resupplemented on Thursday, 8 February 2018.

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