lucid

Morning of January 4, 1969. Saturday.



This childhood dream journal entry has been revised on Friday 20 October 2017 to complete and clarify revelatory dynamics to more coherently define the meaning. This dream occurred about 3:30 in the morning. Sunrise was not until about 7:20 a.m. I had attempted to watch the 1942 black-and-white movie “Cat People” (which started around one a.m. on this Saturday morning), though our television was black-and-white anyway, but I slept through most of it, though I did not go to my bed until about 3:15 in the morning.

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In my dream, as I am walking out from the front of our Cubitis carport (after deliberately “stepping into” the stabilized hypnagogic “portal” rendered as the unlit carport area), seemingly only about three-thirty to four o'clock in the morning, and walking in a northwesterly direction towards our neighbor’s orange grove, I maintain my lucidity.

Even though I am lucid, I feel somewhat vulnerable when I find myself walking into the opening of a fictional feature. It is a hallway in which the walls are seemingly made of fog, yet with a suggestion of at least partial solidity. This eerie hallway starts from between the middle area of the driveway and the neighbor’s orange grove, and runs from east to west towards Highway Seventeen (and is perpendicular to it). I do not perceive the potential length of this hallway or clearly discern a door or doorway on the opposite side, which makes me hesitant in continuing.

From here, I see various domestic cats (at least fifteen) in various positions throughout the hallway ahead. Some cats are sitting or standing on tables (one near a vase on a table) and some are sitting or standing on the implied hallway’s floor. One cat jumps down from a table (or simple platform) on the left side in this scene and walks toward me though never gets very close or attacks. An unknown male narrator’s voice (seeming to come from above and to my left and as if from a loudspeaker with slightly fuzzy audio) only says “cats” in a very informal way and without emotion. I feel that he may not be speaking to me as it may be a voice that was recorded years ago. There is also the vague idea that I may not be fully in the setting but looking at a realistic three-dimensional movie scene either superimposed or bilocated into the front yard area. Despite my lucidity, I feel somewhat wary, uncertain, and passive to what I am seeing even though there is no discernible threat. Soon, with deliberate intent (lucid choice), I fade from my dream with a soft awakening. (The liminal space transition is also softer than usual.)

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Following is an extensive and highly revelatory explanation of the most likely factors and personal history responsible for this dream along with their related meanings. I have recorded this dream as of the doorway waking symbolism type.

It was obvious to me at the time (despite being only eight years old), that my dream was trying to fill in missing details from “Cat People” even though that was not my original dream entry intent (which was to visit my younger neighbor and friend, Brenda, who lived north of me). However, my dream was completely unrelated to the movie’s plot as my distorted memory implied that the movie was about an older woman with a fear of domestic cats.

The otherwise ambiguous hallway setting is modeled after two common real-life locations and progressions, one, walking through the hallway in my Cubitis home, and two, walking down our Cubitis driveway (as the fictional hallway was rendered as just north of it and parallel to it) to wait for the school bus on week day mornings. The possibly implied exit of the fictional foggy hallway would be at the east wayside of Highway Seventeen and it should also be mentioned that while waiting for the bus on week days in this time period, there was sometimes dense fog. Fog was far more common as a dream feature during the time periods there was fog in the mornings in real life, although fog also seems to be a factor of the dream state itself, possibly influenced by dream scenes in movies that include fog (to represent that it is a dream), though is also a natural association with dreaming.

There is also an association with Carl Sandburg’s poem “Fog”; the line “The fog comes on little cat feet” (which was silently integrated into my dream near the last moments). The poem was first published in 1916 and my mother was born in 1916. This seems to be the association with the “old woman” (my mother) with a supposed fear of domestic cats (again, not what 1942’s “Cat People” was about). However, neither my mother nor I had any trepidation relating to cats. In fact, my mother had a pet gray tabby named Dewey at this time. The mild trepidation in my dream was more about my lucidity being intruded upon by the absentminded association with the movie that I had not even seen much of, based on my earlier wondering about it (but not consciously intending for it to be carried into the dream state as it was).

There is one more relevant commonly recurring factor I should include here. The doorway waking symbolism and other types that sometimes include the liminal space cat symbolism (in addition to the term “putting the cat out for the night” as subliminally relating to shifts in unconsciousness and waking symbolism itself) curiously was validated to have come from having seen the ending credits of “The Flintstones” (an animated television series) so many times. A domesticated saber-toothed cat is seen throwing Fred out of his house (after Fred firstly put the cat out) during the end credits, resulting in Fred pounding on his front door and yelling “Wilma!”, waking the whole neighborhood. This also established not only the relevant waking symbolism but additionally established this symbolism as a more influential dream state end marker in many examples throughout my fifty years of dream journaling. There are additional reasons for liminal space cat symbolism, one being an influence from the 1962 animated movie “Gay Purr-ee”, another with my childhood association of a cat sitting on a fence as existing between dreaming and waking (that is, a fence as the liminal space divider between dreaming and waking). Additionally, I think of cats as being more active at night or while people are sleeping and dreaming, thus a natural symbol of the dream state itself.

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Night of October 24, 1968. Thursday.



Newly researched and enhanced entry updated on August 31, 2014. Sunday.

This was one of my favorite childhood dreams, and I became fully lucid by the end of my dream. I was firstly in the living room of my Cubitis home very late at night, probably around midnight. There was a very unusual storm occurring with a lot of thunder and lightning. Over time, I decided to go into my own room, but only opened the door enough to see a very small ghost gliding across the floor. As one of my original titles for this was “The Pillowcase Ghost”, you can imagine what it looked like. There were hardly any features other than the white “pillowcase” with vertically oval eyes and a mouth. He had no legs and only a suggestion of hands to drag his chain. He had a very young voice, like a young boy, as he was “booooooing” (more like moaning and dragging out the word “boo” for some time), and in fact, I could actually see the letters moving in the air above his head in a long, wavy sequence. I was not scared at all. I found it rather fascinating and bordering on pure entertainment. He was dragging a small chain, which looked a little like an animated charcoal drawing. The lightning I watch for a time through mostly the east windows of my bedroom also seems somewhat animated (in an implied letter “Z” sort of way), and is fairly thick and yellowish. I watch the little ghost for a fairly long time. However, he eventually notices me and seems to vanish, as if he had been only practicing his ghostliness and did not want anyone to see what he was doing.

I look around for him and he seems to be under the couch watching me. I imagine that we are playing some sort of game, but I wonder what I should do. For a short time, I am wondering if he actually took the pillowcase from one of my pillows and was now wearing it.

I go into the entrance to the kitchenette and crouch down near a chair (one from real life, with metal legs, in the same position as from last seen in reality). Eventually, the small ghost is in the living room, moving around and gliding very slowly across the floor, almost reminding me of a snail. He does not seem to be aware of me at that point. All in all, my dream is extremely vivid, yet with a cartoon-like atmosphere (but still with full life-like depth perception).

I find myself holding a “Spooky (the Tuff Little Ghost)” comic book (the one in the image, issue number eleven with a cover date of July 1957). I jump out from behind the chair (although technically I was not hidden, as the chair’s legs vertically blocked only a small part of me), and I let out a very loud, staccato “Boo!” At the same time, Spooky flies out of the comic book, growing bigger in flight, until he is my size, as I am holding it open, raising his arms and also shouting “Boo!”

The other poor little ghost’s eyes widen as he cringes dramatically (and diagonally in the opposite direction) in seeming terror and he slides swiftly across the floor backwards, to the other side of the room (he cannot seem to fly at all). He no longer appears in my dream, and Spooky is also gone from the scene (having returned to the comic book, I assume). Eventually, I wake up, and have a false awakening of retrieving my pillow case from under the couch.

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A short time after this, my mother (without knowing about my dream) gave me a glow-in-the-dark plastic ghost figure similar to the one in my dream but wearing a clock necklace (most dreams have at least one precognitive layer or association, but not always as obvious).

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The main influence was “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown”, which aired earlier that evening. The Spooky comic book cover (that was apparently printed eleven years earlier as well as being issue number eleven) set the climax and resolution into play with a clever scenario, especially of a ghost coming out of the cover of a comic - that comic book cover in reality also showing the ghost coming out of the cover of a book! (and it was from behind a kitchen chair rather than an arm chair which would have hidden me fully - this seems one of several important facets of my dream). The “ghost” was possibly a representation of a challenge in easily “defeating” the Charlie Brown mentality - almost in the manner of “tough real ghost” vs. “weak and fake ghost Charlie Brown”. This seems important because in my dream, it was almost as if I was in full control of the Spooky presence regardless of how short the event. The layers of this dream still seem quite intriguing even as an adult. The later versions of this dream did not have as much impact as the first semi-lucid version.

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This dream had one of the most intriguing and marvelous dream signs I have ever seen. A glowing white “pillowcase ghost” (both a moon symbol and a very obvious dream sign - what could be more obvious a dream sign than a pillow?) serves as the induction and soon becomes the main feature of my dream. Even though Spooky is also technically a moon symbol (“downgraded” consciousness within the nighttime dream state) as are most ghosts, he wears a derby and is thus a “covered moon” in this case, and emerges from the comic book to “send my dream’s moon away” as the waking precursor.

Morning of October 15, 1978. Sunday.



My dream starts out very nicely. I am standing on the deck of a new small yacht in the early evening with the cheerful “mystery girl” (lifelong precognitive wife archetype). It is semi-dark and we are not that far from shore. We seem to be drinking cocktails. I begin to realize it is a dream and it becomes more and more vivid. We seem to be the only people around. I start thinking about how this would be a fine and private place for romance

Over time, however, as we begin to make love, the boat somehow gets smaller and smaller (the girl eventually vanishes somehow), the scenario quite contrary to my wishes, until it is just a board floating on the water, more like a half-sunken canoe, I suppose. I start focusing and chanting “perfecto, perfecto” and the board moves faster through the water (as if it had a motor attached in back) as I remain on my stomach (hands and arms sometimes splashing in the water) hoping everything will work out in an attempt to reach the opposite shore and meanwhile “restore” the seeming intent of how my dream started, but not much else happens as I end up feeling tired and frustrated. For some reason, I feel embarrassment even though no one is around to see my failure at that point - and I also still fully know I am dreaming as I eventually wake. I keep trying, but it remains a board in the water and almost stops now and then, annoying me even more with a slight wariness it could sink. At one point, I get the impression that the Jolly Green Giant is standing on the shore opposite to where I am headed. He does not seem to be threatening in any way, though he is probably amused at my endeavors, I think and he may actually rescue me if need be (though this does not occur).

There was another (semi-lucid) part prior to all this, but no longer clear. It involved exploring a large college-like building and trying to go out from the right exit. One part is an area to go down steps and be below ground level, but then right back up again to the outside door on the other side of the mostly featureless “hall”. It may be a distortion of one of the schools I went to, possibly in La Crosse (though it was also precognitive to the entrance at Northern Engraving where I worked much later without having been there before). There seems to be several “resets” or repeats.

Morning of October 13, 1978. Friday.



The location in this dream is not fully determinable although it is likely Wisconsin because of the land features. All I know is that it is a somewhat isolated area with a higher hill or rise on one side (seemingly east) where a road or highway cuts into possibly the foot of a mountain (that is, the embankment that is exposing the strata where the spaceship protrudes slightly seems partially flat on top but may reach more into the implied foot of the mountain more to the east). I am seemingly not directly in my dream even though my view is moving about in a three-dimensional perspective. Instead, the focus is on several businessmen in suits and around the same age (probably late thirties).

My dream unfolds in mostly only showing the discovery of an apparent extraterrestrial spaceship that had crashed or landed on Earth many years ago, possibly even before there were humans. Oddly, the different geological layers and features seem to be linked to the spaceship somehow. This is not logical, of course, because it is set up almost to imply that the spaceship slowly phased into its landing area over many centuries so that it became “entombed” or even fossilized over time, so that the spaceship is embedded in geologically different strata, almost in a way that would imply that different parts of the spacecraft existed at different times (after crashing) even though it is the one object.

I fade in and out of my dream over seemingly at least half an hour, but this is mostly all there is to it. There are a couple false awakenings related to writing my dream down, but no aliens appear or are implied as possibly extant at any point. In fact, my dream’s last “reset” at one point is almost to imply it could be connected to a nearby restaurant for the tourism industry and is perhaps faked somehow or at least advertised in a misleading way.

There is also something about “all” television stations going off the air related to more of the spacecraft being uncovered relative to erosion - and some sort of unclear reference about people blaming the restaurant for their televisions not picking up channels correctly. I get an impressions of it being related to Chicago somehow. Doing extensive research and relevant updates on many of my older entries (even more inclusive with online dream details that I formerly saw as more insignificant), I had to smile at this one. Although there is no documentation of having been aware of it (I would have likely made the reference), there was actually a power failure the night before at a relay substation in Chicago, affecting all television stations in Wisconsin in periods from ten to forty-five minutes.

This dream was also seemingly influenced by residual memory of “Five Million Years to Earth” (original title: “Quatermass and the Pit”) from 1967.

Morning of October 13, 1968. Sunday.



I am in school with a special sort of book that has Matchbox Cars inside it. In one dream journal entry, my earliest record of this scene, I originally called this “The Small, Flat Car”. The actual case seems to be that I can take out and put back in real Matchbox Cars in this special book (based on the photos becoming “wells” within the book - recurring, and a long-term idea in childhood dreams). There is one version where I seem to be sitting in the back of the class for what seems like a very long time, and am somewhat concerned about a car being partially flat yet trying to fit it between the pages so that the teacher does not notice that I have my toys in school. It did not work most of the time, though I still was not noticed, seemingly from sitting so far back in the classroom.

Night of July 25, 1968 to Morning of July 26, 1968.

Important: The above date reference has been validated to be the first, most vivid, and longest version of this recurring childhood dream theme (as well as of the most precognitive layers).



My dream starts out with a precognitive scene, with Linda, a girl I knew from school, feeding “our chickens” in the backyard at Cubitis (this was when we still had a rabbit farm - and a worm farm - and my father had not even begun to think about raising chickens yet). The look is quite the same as it would be, with high, wobbly fences and several different enclosures, as well as the eventually partly dismantled rabbit shed being a part of it all. In fact, a little later on, he had made a concrete rabbit for an entrance ornament, in which, later, it also looked like a chick lying on its back (as if hatching from an egg), the rabbit’s ears transforming into the chicken’s beak in the visual “translation”. The girl is still outside when the moon is out, although the chickens are far less active. It then seems like I am looking at the images in a sort of farming magazine or real estate catalog (I did a little “photo projection” in real life at the time, so the change is not that unusual to me).

Eventually, I cross the highway (at night) and there is a “haunted house” where the house of Karen and Kenny S should be, and no other houses around it. I think it is two floors, or maybe three. (Karen’s was only a small one-storey house and very similar to mine.)

When I walk in, I notice a dark blue cartoon-like spider named “Hairy”/“Harry”, about half as high as I am. It has mischievous animated human eyes, but is more like just an oval with the eyes and lines for the mouth and coming out of the “body” for the legs. I think this is connected with a cartoon version of “The Addams Family”, as I eventually see a few other characters, which are not really frightening in any way.

A little later, there is a visually “perfect” scene (as if exactly replayed) from “Tickle Me”, an Elvis Presley movie that eventually features a haunted house with a “hidden treasure”. The scene seems to somehow relate to the hand in the box (Addams Family) to the hand coming out of the tiny door above the fireplace and punching people as in “Tickle Me” (with a brief impression of seeing myself in the scene). The imagery is exact and very vibrant. There is also the scene with the “ghost grandmother” in the rocking chair which somehow seems to be occurring in my father’s larger walk-in/sliding doors closet, yet I am still in the “haunted house”.

Later on is an additional part that was also precisely precognitive. I open a small window in a door and see a werewolf moving towards me a certain way, and there is some sort of funny game-like idea (similar to older “Captain Kangaroo” show openings that I had never seen before at that time) of shutting the window (in the door) with the door open - or leaving the window open, but with the door closed and so on, but the werewolf (starting out like a shadowy figure) - a sort of gray color and looking sort of “stiff” like a toy or model with hands raised that are not moving much, and a slight swaying side to side as he walks. At the same time, I understand that he is my brother-in-law, Verdell. Later on, for some reason, when he (my brother-in-law, Verdell) was visiting in real life (he only came down to Florida with my sister every two years or so for a few days), he bought a werewolf (wolf man) model with no explanation, even surprising my sister (there were various monster models in the store). The original model was grayish; the image (above) is of a painted figure but is from the same kit. In my dream, Verdell had looked just like the model, no shirt, pants held up with a belt, and no shoes. There was even a rat running around his foot.

Later on, after a few other misadventures, I find myself in a locker room (precognitive to one I spent time in later on in life; I had not at that point known what the one at the new middle school - featured in my dream - looked like - everything was correctly oriented). In fact, I was wondering how I got in such a place, inside of a seeming residential home. I later notice a very strange-looking cat (like the one from Disney’s “Cinderella”, whose name is “Lucifer”) sitting on a dark purplish-indigo velvet pillow with golden tassels - on top of what seems to be the hallway water fountain. However, it changes into (or is chased off by) a more normal-looking cat. It is then female and jumps up and “kisses” me (exactly like the opening credits for “Bewitched”, and with fluttering stars, real sparkles, and such - years later, I found my wife had a cat named Sparky when I first met her) and turns into Brenda (the girl who often seemed to represent my unknown future wife).

There is quite a bit more that I did not record fully when younger. During this particular time period, I wrote all my dreams out - often with pictures - on color notebook paper (not allowed for usage in school later on), mostly lighter hues of pink, purplish, greenish, yellowish, and bluish. I guess it was a pain for teachers to have to try to read pencil print on color paper (especially darker such as purple), hard enough to read on white paper.

Morning of July 2, 1978. Sunday.



There were a few different versions of this dream (including a couple “resets” during the same sleeping period) which was likely influenced by the television series “Gunsmoke”. I make my way to an old, smaller (unknown) ghost town on my own. There is a skeleton hanging from an old noose that had never been taken down. I had understood the town to be “cursed”, yet it also has some sort of secret.

It turns out that the town is some sort of portal to the past. As I am walking along, I see an upright oval portal (higher up) in another area that is looking into the past. It is a man (about thirty) who still seems to be alive (but dying) and hanging from the noose. The “vision” soon fades. The town had been “cursed” because of his wrongful death - by the tavern entrance being turned into an active portal and the people being “pawns” of time itself.

Later on, when I walk through the batwing doors of an old tavern (wooden floor), I am transported into the past, into the time when the town was at its peak in population and prosperity. Someone is playing the song “There is a Tavern in the Town” on a newer (and properly tuned) piano.

I talk to a few people, including the man who had been hanged. Apparently, he had been hanged for murder. However, he seems very friendly and claims he did not do it. Eventually, a knife is thrown into someone’s neck from behind, just as they are leaving the tavern, and the friendly man I know is blamed. I go in and out of the batwing doors and back to the same time portal entry point. The song “There is a Tavern in the Town” keeps repeating (a thin man in a dark purplish vest and a white shirt and with a mustache and smoking a smaller cigar - is playing it), as I do this a few times, so the scenes repeat. Finally, I am able to see who actually throws the knife (an older, chubbier man of about forty with a black beard and dressed in ragged clothes). Eventually, as the cycle repeats, I am able to warn the other person. The villain gets away, though, but promises to do harm at some point in the future.

Soon, I am in my own time; there is an unserviced player piano (originally thought to be a ghost involved by some visitors) playing “There is a Tavern in the Town”, but it is very out of tune (or in an unfamiliar minor key) and playing very slowly (similar to a particular Johnny Bond recording I used to own in real life - not sure, but it may be from the “On the Wagon” narrative - have not heard it in many years). It seems that the town was eventually made into a tourist attraction for a short time, prior to it finally being abandoned.

I see a very eerie in-dream vision of an empty noose swinging in the wind (it was the same noose that had originally been used to hang the innocent man but is now empty). I had saved the young man from the hanging. He comes out from the portal and thanks me, but then tells me that time may eventually reset itself and he may have to face the idea of “being hanged again” and he then returns to his own time. Still, the skeleton and noose are gone when I make my way home. The “resetting” may not occur in my lifetime.

Morning of June 13, 1978. Tuesday.



In this dream, I am aware that aggressive hippopotamuses are continuously swimming about and eating people near a beach as well as capsizing boats (apparently called “eights” or rowing boats used in the sport of competitive rowing) that seem to be part of a local competition. People are warned about the danger including with a few signs near the shore, but nobody pays heed to either the signs or the actual threatening appearances of the hippopotamuses in the large river (though they mostly lurk under the water and none of them are ever onshore).

There is eventually a scene where I am on a small airplane (not a Cessna but some sort of older type I have seen in older safari movies, at least as the exterior). There are several people on the airplane, perhaps as many as ten in close proximity. The unfamiliar female pilot (of only about twenty), though she has the appearance of my “dream girl”, is having trouble with the airplane and just manages to avoid crashing into the Eiffel Tower by dramatically flying under it, almost as if in slow motion. This feels interesting and exciting, perhaps because my dream is almost bordering on lucidity at this point and the vestibular system ambiguity of the dream state, though I slowly wake up after this near-miss event. The airplane seems associated with being on a school bus as from years before and seemed more like a bus inside. There is also a vague association of school with regard to the airplane, as if it might be part of a school field trip (though I was no longer in school at this point in reality).

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Night of April 8, 1978. Saturday.



[An interesting aspect of dreams is that they are more closely tied to biological patterns than clearer rational thoughts, the neural energies which are free of conscious self distractions; a more natural flow of circadian rhythms. Sometimes.]

I am semi-lucid, though it has been a challenge to not have my thoughts fall upon concerns relating to rats being in Cubitis when that has never been a problem before. It is ironic in regard to having had a pet rat named “Ben” that had just happened to become trapped in a cage with a black micro-bantam rooster in the chicken shed.

[In reality, at least four large rats started to become active in the plenum space of our home and the rafters of the chicken shed for the first time and only a few months prior to our move to Wisconsin. There was a part of the ceiling in my room that had been damaged by a leak and the softer tile eventually sagged down to be directly open to the space below the roof, which the rats sometimes occupied (though no rat had ever come through that opening in my ceiling despite my wariness at times). My father eventually covered the opening with a piece of plywood. They sometimes ran across our clothesline even though they seemed too big to do this as easily as they did.]

I am in my Cubitis bedroom in the middle of the night but I am somehow aware of the presence of a giant rat in the now empty chicken shed. There is also a sense of isolation, an illogical idea that no one else is around for miles. I can see the movement of this giant rat in the background behind the first partial wall of the shed, mostly only moving from left to right and back again at which point it does not seem to be aware of me. It is about the size of a horse. Even though I am aware that I am dreaming, I seem unable to focus on something other than this potential threat.

[Rat symbolism seems to be related to biology in some cases, having proven to appear in dreams as a symbolic precursor to a flu or other illness when there were yet no outward signs.]

At one point, seemingly while standing outside somewhere but in a semi-dark area that is mostly featureless, yet also sensing that I am in bed at the same time, I look directly up and see the giant rat leaping down upon me, vertically from above, headfirst, and it almost seems cartoon-like, even flexing human-like fingers. Despite the rat’s mouth seeming not that close or even very large, even as it is almost upon me, more of a comedic essence than realistic, I soon realize that I had been swallowed and I am then suddenly apparently floating inside its stomach. My waking is very slow. There is the sustained sense of being in hot liquid and floating on my back. This disturbing experience seems to last about twenty seconds until I rise through liminal space and feel of a normal physical presence upon waking.

[This was an immediate precursor to a virus, and yet also seemingly of a precognitive connection to my brother Dennis (half-brother on my mother’s side), regarding negative associations after my move back to Wisconsin. He even had a cartoonish tattoo later that was identical to the imagery in one part of my dream, the second-from-last rendering of imagery. What is also interesting is that some of the imagery at the beginning of my dream had a very eerie but unrealistic appearance; a superimposed aspect that is identical as that from the “Night of the Rat” segment from the movie “Nightmares”, which did not come out until 1983. The rat was rendered much more realistically in the first segments than it was in the last scenes.]

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Morning of March 16, 1978. Thursday.





Dream Series: The Experience of Prescience, the Inexplicable Dream State Phenomenon. Part 5

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A very attractive girl with green eyes and dark curly hair (who seems mostly of a composite of about ten percent Brenda and the rest, my “mystery girl”, who turned out to be Zsuzsanna) is living in an eerie-looking small house that is also somehow part of the orange tree in the southwest corner of the orange grove in Cubitis. I somehow had not noticed it before within the supposed history of my dream’s backstory, which seems to have been over a period of at least a month. There seems to be a long time period where I am mostly just thinking about this unusual structure and wondering if anyone lives there. (In actuality, it is a more realistic rendering of the tree house of “Miss Suzy” by Miriam Young, and an additional association with “Old Black Witch” by Wende and Harry Devlin. These are two books I treasured as a child, but so much so, I actually later mentally combined them into the same story.)

The girl and I later sit together on the concrete flower box (outside the front west jalousie windows of my room and where my mother mostly grew coleus blumei). She sits on my right. We talk for seemingly a long time about various subjects, as if we had been very good friends for a long time. I am very comfortable next to her despite her amazing beauty. She tells me that she had often been called a “bad witch”, partly because she was born on a Friday the thirteenth (in September). I want to reassure her, but I am not sure of the nature of what “bad witch” is implied to mean or her full story.

She attempts to do some sort of magic trick with a passing car that is headed south on Highway Seventeen, but instead of it working out as she had intended (the car changing into something else or changing its color perhaps?), the license plate from the front of a different car comes off, rotates in the air as it travels, and attaches itself to the back of the car she is focused on. I then amusingly say, “You’re kidding”, in a matter-of-fact recognition that she is known as a “bad witch” in meaning that she is not that good at performing magic rather than being “bad” as a person. I then start to teach her powerful magic through the rest of my dream, including some rather pointless juggling of oranges, as well as telekinesis, and she seems happy and grateful.

“Miss Suzy” (though I am not viably aware of the Miss Suzy story influence in my dream) tells me that she will write to me on March 16th in thirteen years, which is the marker for when Michael died in 1974. (It is also when Susan R “broke contact” with me and no longer “sent” as she had since we met, telling me the other girl “had more power”, even though the “mystery girl” was only in my dreams at this time, though it would not have worked out between Susan and I as she was a devout Christian, which is ironic as she was the only viably telepathic person I knew of until I learned Zsuzsanna was a real person). Zsuzsanna, going by Suzi in the shortened form, did indeed write to me on March 16, 1991, though I got her letter several days later. The license plate magic trick that supposedly was not what she intended, seems to be an analogy for contact from one person to another, as a license plate is rectangular and contains letters and numbers as does a posted letter. Zsuzsanna was born on Friday the 13th in September, 1968. It was me who wrote to her mother first in answering her mother’s newspaper advertisement (due to a dream advising me to do this), but Zsuzsanna immediately “recognized” me for who I was (from a photograph I sent her mother) and then wrote to me, also sending me a long poem (“These Lands I Must Travel”) that was identical to the nature of my hypnagogic dreams years previously. The PAIA newspaper was printed in Arcadia, just south of where I lived for years (and at the time of this dream), though somehow made its way to a small town in Australia.

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Night of November 12, 1977. Saturday.



This dream was extraordinarily vivid. I do not consider it a nightmare, regardless of the implications (as I was not frightened or in distress at any point and I did not have to run away). Carol (older half-sister on my mother’s side) and her husband are driving around, seemingly in Florida near where I live in Cubitis. It is very late at night, probably midnight, and a bit cool. It seems, though, that we are in an old-fashioned convertible from the 1940s. My brother-in-law Mel is driving.

There is a very eerie sound of continuous screaming in various pitches, and that of all ages. Soon, a large group of people are running from our left to our right on the perpendicular road of the intersection we are about one car away from and are stopped because of Mel wondering what is going on. We are not attacked, but there is a very unusual mood and I am near lucidity. None of us say anything for a time, and nothing else seems to happen after they pass. It is only a bit later that I realize that none of them had a head. There is no gore or blood. They seem to all run at about the same speed and are mostly equidistant by about four feet. It is almost like some sort of macabre “migration” which I believe is the conclusion that Carol comes to and she comments very casually and calmly on the scene. I eventually wonder how they could be screaming if they have no heads. It seems like a major event, but the backstory remains unknown (until hypnopompic disclosure surfaces).

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An intersection is rendered in my dreams as representing the choice of returning to deeper sleep or waking, that is, autosymbolism for RAS mediation. There is usually an additional known factor that validates this. In this case, the headless people, running perpendicular to my dream self’s location and my liminal intent to return to sleep, dramatically represent the lack of thinking skills in the dream state as well as being linked to my liminal association with headless clothing store mannequins, which adds more validation to why my dream was rendered in this way, as a mannequin is autosymbolism for the physical body being inactive while asleep (and I sometimes see clothing store mannequins without heads as a very peculiar feature in society). As these people are running to my right rather than being still, it represents a peculiar way of looking at the waking stage, usually unique, always curious.

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Morning of November 3, 1977. Thursday.



This was one of the only times a dream seemed to be interrupted by a different dream in an atypical, somewhat startling fashion. I was in one dream and then another dream “broke into it” like a radio broadcast very suddenly “drowning out” another with a completely different degree of awareness.

My second dream was much more vivid than the first (and with growing lucidity). In the first dream, I seem to be at a television studio yet not fully present (not disembodied, just not directly in the environment), the ceiling being about twelve feet high. The New Mouseketeers, all dressed in plain white clothes, seem to be involved in some sort of unlikely science-fiction movie or televised special (perhaps live) but they are also dancing on roller skates and moving past the camera several times without the camera panning in any way. When I look around, I mostly see very large white cubes, almost like steps (but too tall to use as steps and about three cubes high closest to the walls), but possibly containers. It seems fairly dark and isolated in some areas of the huge building (but not completely dark in any areas) and the otherwise featureless warehouse-like setting. Their dancing, motions, and singing (which I think the main line or title is “The World’s a Balloon”) becomes slightly annoying (almost perceived as bizarre) though they seem to be getting a bit more enthusiastic and practiced in their performance, almost frenzied in fact, but in a comedic sense.

Suddenly, there is a clearer awareness of mood and location that jumps like a needle on a record and I am in a different dream flying over Key West almost as if I had been plucked from one dream (of a completely different level of clarity and awareness) and put into another. Even the depth perception seems quite different and somewhat enhanced. A very long bridge stretches out over the ocean as I watch the cars move over it as I fly along. It is extremely vivid though the ocean is a deep purple. Everything else looks normal including the sky. Dreams do have a tendency to jump from scene to scene in some cases, but this was actually like a different type of experience, like actually “changing channels” and a quite different mental awareness at the same time.

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Morning of October 1, 1967. Sunday.



I am on my own, possibly in late morning, in a drifting canoe, going southward over a river (the Hillsborough River) in a swamp in Florida that looks like a part of Lettuce Lake Park.

On the banks of the river are very tall cypress trees. There seem to be continuous tall vertically stretched faces of which are superimposed against the trees, but are likely not meant to be the trees themselves, more like a ghostly presence or a strange optical illusion, similar to a funhouse mirror effect.

A few of the faces seem wary of my presence, even though I am a young child, with mouths open, though there is no certainty at some points that they are aware of me. There is a bluish green hue on everything at times. The closely clustered faces, as well as being stretched from ground to treetop and very narrow in appearance, also seem to waver very slowly at times, or have a bend near the middle of the face. They are both male and female, mostly all adults. They are only to my right, near the bank of the river. The faces otherwise do not move much. Despite the eerie imagery, I feel no fear, especially as a few of the faces seem afraid of my presence at times.

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Variations of this dream, both lucid and non-lucid, occurred a number of times from earliest memory. The causes behind this dream are fully known. It developed over the autosymbolic rendering of “drifting into sleep” (spoken mainly by my mother in real life when she was describing my status when I was resting in bed) and mixing the association with drifting in a canoe into a recognized form of dream state induction, which of course has no waking life relevance due to it being a factor of the dream state itself. It is still a major factor of my dreams, water being autosymbolic of the essence of sleep. This dream’s setting was an area my family and I visited in real life when I was very young.

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Morning of September 17, 1977. Saturday.



This was of a new period of lucid dreaming for me as well as higher vividness. 1977 was an unusual year for this. In my dream, I had fallen asleep on the living room couch (I had absentmindedly written “leaving room” instead of “living room” in the original entry). Through the glass panes of my atypical bedroom door (which did not close normally but rather squeezed into the doorway with some noisy difficulty), I see an unusual variation of the mystery girl. The level of vividness is extreme and fully in-body and I try to control my in-dream breathing a bit more than usual. I watch her through the glass as the glass panes seem much bigger than in reality (seeming to “grow”, actually). She is making references to riding the carousel with her…an actual carousel somehow in my room (or on the other side of the “mirror” aka window panes), although there is minor influence from having seen the first episode of “Logan’s Run” (the television series). In that show, the carousel meant death (at the age of thirty) but in the dream, it is only slightly ominous. There is a lot of in-dream “energy” or “vibration” that mostly only occurred in particular dream-types related to the mystery girl.

Over time, the carousel takes on a strange appearance, somewhat like a round, rotating wooden dock, almost like a circular version of part of the “Gunsmoke” set, as if the carousel was somewhat like a soap bubble where parts of it faded over time before it vanished completely. The imagery of this part of the dream came to match exactly - a large drawing my wife’s mother had done in Nimbin (with several copies in her family) long before I saw it in reality (and regardless of the high unlikelihood of someone making a drawing of that nature, which incidentally also included the theme of a divine or “twin soul” marriage - I mean, who else would associate a rotating carousel with nuances of a rotating circular “Gunsmoke” set or “ghost town”?). In real-life, the carousel my wife had actually been on during that same time was eventually dismantled (in Australia) and ended up where I lived in America, any of these things being the tip of the iceberg in thousands of unlikely parallels and precognitive nuances.

In my dream, I end up going through the glass somehow. I end up in some sort of business office where a group called “IRO” (possibly based on a fictional in-dream name of a male named Iro?) is holding a meeting about an upcoming novel called “Reflections”, which was apparently going to be written by the mystery girl (yet remain unpublished in “my” dimension - it was as if I was in an “alternate version of the future”). There is a discussion relating to refugees from Hungary, though at the time I had no conscious associations with “International Refugee Organization” and did not even think about the additional significance until many years later. (My wife’s father was technically a refugee during the Roma “ethnic cleansing” and escaped to Australia). (In real life, my wife had also written an unpublished novel called “Reflections” before I ever made real-life contact with her, continuing my usual tip-of-the-iceberg run.)

It seems unusual for me to be where I am and I wonder if I should stay, though I get the impression I would miss out on ten or more years of my life. I engage in a conversation with one male who asks me why I am able to focus on my dreams (and “other dimensions”) so well and document them and research as much as possible, to “solve” things. I tell him that if I had not done so, I would only seem to be “half here”. I must be an exception to the rule. Billions of other people do not seem to have that interest in being “complete” or actively in search of purpose. I am not sure if the male leader is called Iro or again if it is just a group name. I also get the impression of a younger sister of the mystery girl being called Rugboe. However, this comes to be a distortion of “Rugby”, which I did not learn of until years later (after moving to Australia).

A male asks me if I think that other people actually exist on “my” side other then myself, my “predestined” mate, and a handful of other people and I am not sure what he means. It almost seems like this other in-dream “pocket world” is only a business building where about six or seven men exist, forever in a “business meeting” of sorts.

Eventually, I understand that I cannot stay in this “other realm” much longer. There is a vague awareness that it is “parallel” to my Cubitis bedroom and I even seem to be in my room as such at times (many in-dream locations, as well as more often being composites, sometimes seem to “hold” two or more places at the same time while also existing in their own space). I do have more parts of the “puzzle”, though. I decide to think about this mystery girl again, and her unpublished “Reflections” novel. Maybe I will actually meet her one day…the carousel event and “Little Red Feather” being two other clues. The man asks me if “Little Red Feather” is my “real name” and I answer with no, not at all, it is the name of a toy plastic figure given to me by a cousin (Evelyn W) when I was six. I suppose the mystery girl is puzzled at this.

…particularity as my yet-to-be wife had an “imaginary” playmate of that name in Australia at the time…long before we made “real” contact…

There are certain things you never come back from, and which you cannot “unlearn” no matter how many millions of people “exist differently”.

Night of September 13, 1977. Tuesday.



In real life, my father had come home from his work rather early and came into my room to give me a book. “She told me to give this to you,” he said. Who did he mean? Jenny? Likely not. My father would not have directed any attention to the concept of ghosts at that point, especially “fresh” ghosts, ghosts only about a month old. “I found it in the window seat,” he said. He said it was the only thing on the property. Anywhere. It was a children’s book about a white kangaroo. I did not ask him who “she” was or who he thought the book had belonged to. He went back to work, riding there on his bicycle, a considerable distance (I had no idea why he felt the need to do this), working for a dollar an hour when everyone else was earning five or more. For his age, his stamina was incredible, including when he rode a bicycle across the United States, twice, in his seventies.

Even though I was sixteen and the book was obviously for a much younger age group, I kept it for awhile, though it did not make the journey to Wisconsin with me. Looking over my dream journals at the time, I discovered two older dreams about a “cataroo”, both on September 13th, one in 1973, the other in 1974. As the “cataroo” (upper half of cat, back half of kangaroo) rescued me in one dream, this “white kangaroo” business seemed benevolent and somehow reassuring. Still, it was an intriguing “coincidence”. This was before I came to learn how to trace precise synchronicity-based layers over the years that seemed “drawn” to a particular date for whatever reason. I came to think that it could possibly “explain” some aspects of precognition, but still did not explain “non-local mind” or remote viewing. After all, many people know that Christmas will arrive on the 25th of December. How difficult is that? Apparently too difficult a concept for the majority.

In my dream, I think of my father exploring the mostly empty recesses of either ruined lives or those who could not settle down and for whatever reason had to move on. (“You stay out of my piccalilli farrago!” What? No exploration allowed? Did curiosity ever actually kill a cat?) Each and every person left behind one thing. Only one item. Perhaps one “clue” to use as a “key” for whatever purpose. Not all dreams are like this of course, but those that remain with certain persistent residual feelings and seeming links that others would never see even if they studied something for centuries.

At this point in my life (age sixteen, in September of 1977), I saw the world, for the most part, as jealous, murderous, and completely insane - and with very good reason. Those who were not insane were innocent and refused to do a single thing against the dominant problematic aggressors. Whoever you interacted with could easily be “removed”. Even after countless warnings and direct signs, no one listened.

My dream girl aka “imaginary girlfriend” as best friend Toby called her (though he did have honest interest in my dream work, unlike some) noted the white kangaroo book. She told me she would “hold one for me” when I was to make contact with her in the “real” world (whatever that is) years from then. She said her human form would not necessarily realize this. Her angelic goddess essence would always be present…somewhere. It seems funny to hear a dream character talking about their “human form”. It was not that I would ever need “confirmation”. The “clues” I knew of were already virtually endless. If I had started to write every miraculous “coincidence” that came directly to me, I would never stop writing.

The voices of truth cannot be silenced. People can lie. People can pretend. People deny that love exists. People deny that anything beyond mundane human life exists (and thus even their “dreams” are mundane and linear). Some people seem to enjoy denying the universe itself. Perhaps they even deny the existence of life itself.