lucid

Morning of November 9, 1974. Saturday.



This is perhaps one of my funniest early teenage dreams (firstly at 13) that there were a few versions of (eventually “practiced” lucidly into a fully comedic dream ending the same way as the original) and which I also wrote a detailed story of years ago including additional elements which different dream versions manifested randomly.

The main characters are me, my best friend Toby T, and a version of Brenda W who looks and sounds quite different and seems to be a symbol of my unknown wife-to-be as with most dreams she featured in (but not all). It starts out in my bedroom in Cubitis, sometime in the morning around nine o'clock, and on a Saturday. Toby and Brenda had both walked from their houses, which are not all that far from mine but did not see anything unusual, apparently.

There is a smaller orange spacecraft that is mottled with a darker brownish orange in a sort of fancy “rounded flame” design. It is to the southernmost edge of my house, on my side (east) of the highway. The spacecraft looks much like a larger Volkswagen Beetle without wheels and is facing north. The two “aliens” that walk about, seemingly looking for certain kinds of flowers or weeds, seem very mysterious in a way, but actually look mostly like thinner “lighter” versions of the Apollo astronauts and their faces are not visible through the helmet. Looking at the “face” of their helmets, I am reminded much of the screen of an Etch-a-Sketch but with a more mysterious “glow” somehow.

The “V” of the Volkswagen symbol may be relevant here due to my life-long layered associations with this special letter (relating to higher levels or a play on “higher planes” as well as the formation birds fly in). Also, at the time in real life, I had a large orange model Volkswagen Beetle (remote-control, and which ran on real fuel - it made a lot of noise, somewhat like a miniature lawn mower) that my father had gotten me for a Christmas and birthday combo, but I had not played with it for awhile at that point.

The three of us talk for awhile about the possible intent of these aliens. They otherwise move and walk about just like normal men. We consider how one of us should hide on the spacecraft to see where they go from here or maybe even see where they came from. I decide to volunteer for the mission. Eventually, something interesting happens in which this dream references a past dream as if it really happened (recurring). Brenda is able to help me become invisible with some sort of witchcraft (Wendy reference likely linked to the “Casper Spaceship” series) so that I will be able to hide on the spacecraft prior to their leaving. (This comes from a much older dream where I became invisible through the power of a smaller candy-cane-shaped walking cane and was able to help her marionette play be the most successful at the school.) She is also able to somehow hypnotize the aliens from a distance as an additional precaution that they will not be able to see me at any point. She plays around by creating a simple “happy face” (eyes and mouth only) on the front of the helmet/visor of the supposed aliens in an Etch-a-Sketch-like fashion.

I eventually go outside and into the backseat of the spacecraft, on the right side. There is no fear or concern, but there is a very strange emotion of leaving my home and not seeing it again as well as an odd feeling of being ready to leave the planet itself but still with a strange sadness. (The mood and sensations of this entire dream event in the last section was somewhat precognitive in the exact way I felt in real life upon riding an airplane the first time, something I physically had not experienced but which was correctly represented in my dream somehow; emotionally, mentally, and physically; yet also precognitive to the closer upcoming time of our actual move from that location in Cubitis by car.) The two aliens come into the craft from both sides at the same time, the inside being mostly just like an actual Volkswagen Beetle with a few additional airplane-like indicators. They do not notice me. We start to ride along (somewhat like a hovercraft at first) and eventually rise into the air, going faster and faster. It is a strange sensation. However, Brenda’s hypnosis seems to have worked too well and they seem unsure of what to do. In fact, they just sort of sit for awhile as if forgetting what some of the controls are for, mostly seeming stupefied at their predicament. Although I cannot see their faces, I see them turn to look at each other a couple times (though seeing only the sides of their helmets).

Soon, the telephone lines become a potential hazard and the craft rocks and dodges them somewhat randomly with a few near-misses. Eventually the craft goes really fast but slows again, seemingly over southern Mexico or the northern area of South America (although I get the impression of Cleveland, Ohio for some reason, but that seems illogical in light of the residents and general look - although we were supposedly going north, not south or west). I notice that the two aliens/Apollo astronauts have vanished completely (apparently from Brenda’s magic being too powerful), both becoming a small pile of silvery dust in their seats (my Etch-a-Sketch had leaked silver dust in real life - I even ended up cracking it open to look inside but of course I immediately threw it out worrying about being poisoned). The spacecraft plunges downward, landing “perfectly” on the top of a merry-go-round in a playground or park (I am aware it is a Saturday) with a large number of Mexican or Brazilian children running about, some playing in sprinklers and laughing loudly at the spacecraft. I am aware that none of them speak English, yet I still feel a compulsion to ask in English (more to the implied unseen “hidden cameras”) “Hey, anyone know how to fly this thing?” A Latino boy of about nine jumps into the front looking around curiously and laughing in a cheerful way (Interestingly, I sense his name is Lorenzo, which I realize at this point is now the name of my next-youngest son but named after a grandfather). I get a slight impression of the song “Saturday in the Park” (1972 album Chicago V - another “V”). Thus it ends as a comedy farce which seems to color my day in a humorous, useful way regardless of the “failed” outcome.

There are a few precognitive layers in this as is often the case. One, the appearance of Brenda with a different personality representing my not-yet-known wife. Two, the feelings of leaving our home in Cubitis to move to Wisconsin when at the time of this dream, I did not know we would be moving and I had not even considered it (as well as the later airplane ride nuances). Three, the orange colors of the “spaceship” remind me of the U-Haul trailer my father got during that same move later in real life. Four, the recurring idea of “getting past Mexico” to continue on across the ocean to be with my soulmate in Australia. Five, the young boy named Lorenzo - my future son at the time?

Morning of September 22, 1974. Sunday.

Dream #: 2,834-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



My dream self becomes aware of imaginary kinaesthesia (as a result of vestibular system ambiguity during sleep atonia) before the illusion of riding in a vehicle begins to compensate for my status of being in REM sleep. (There is no “interpretation” in this as it is how my dream originates.)

I am riding in the back seat of a taxi on Highway 17 in Florida in the late morning. It is going south to Arcadia instead of north to my home in Cubitis.

The driver is an elderly black male (who had driven the taxi I had taken in real life a few days previously except that it was to ride home from school).

The overpass crumbles and collapses when the vehicle is at the highest point, and the taxi plummets.

However, as a result of being aware I am in the dream state, I simultaneously phase through the roof of the taxi and fly above the scene without concern. As I look at the setting below, the overpass has become rubble. The landscape seems miniaturized, and the taxi is now the size of a Matchbox Car. This viewpoint is not a result of flying high above the scene, as the distance is seemingly minimal.

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PRECOGNITIVE: Despite this dream resulting from the usual sleep atonia to myoclonus compensation, they dynamited this overpass on October 25, 1988, in real life, and removed the rubble. (Construction began in 1937. See the image if available.) I left Cubitis in 1978 to live in Wisconsin.

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Morning of August 25, 1974. Sunday.



This dream seemed extraordinary to me for a few reasons. One reason is that it was the only very vivid dream I have had that seemed to be solely in black-and-white at one point, even considering the amazing sense of depth perception and distance perception and orientation. The mood seems quite intense and with a purpose. Just before King Kong appears in a parade (non-threatening, apparently) there is a clear mood of expectation (similar to that of certain other types of dreams, but augmented). I seem to be very large myself (even bigger than King Kong) but seemingly disembodied and apparently invisible and viewing the scene from above, looking at the rows and columns of “tiny” people in the parade as well as the large group of spectators.

This scenario seems like some sort of special seasonal event or important celebration. Even though there is also an ambiguous “ancient Rome” feeling, the scene seems to be in a modern American city such as New York (although it also seems much like an area in La Crosse that I had not been to in years - near the post office - as such, we seem to be moving due north - though this would indicate the people are very tiny in proportion to this area and with the buildings implied to be much bigger than they are in reality). In a way, my dream seems like a nostalgic blending of the mood and “power” in the original “King Kong” movie from 1933 - yet there is no stop-motion animation feel at any point - it is quite fluid and realistic. None of the cheering and applauding people show any signs of fear. The size of King Kong though, is much bigger than his movie-implied size. The length of one of his fingers is probably as long as four people here.

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This dream was the night before starting eighth grade. I guess I perceived that I would feel out of place or “overly noticeable” going back to school, on some levels (though I did not really expect a “dog-and-pony show” until graduation, though I only went until the first part of tenth grade publicly and got my GED without incident or ceremony). Still, I did not plan to monkey around too much. (Pretend I did not write that - and yes, I know, King Kong was not technically a monkey.)

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Morning of August 3, 1974. Saturday.

Dream #: 2,784-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



An unusual but intriguing huge feature appears in what seems to be a big parking lot (with no cars) in Arcadia, though the landscape, which changes after my dream’s beginning, is erroneous because of the impression of high hills in the distance and the elevation from where I study it. I seem to be east of its location. The feature is a huge diamond (oval cut), seemingly half above ground and half below. The area it occupies seems close to where Arcadia’s DeSoto Memorial Hospital would be but quite different than in reality, especially regarding the fictitious valley and high hills.

Michael Learned, the actress who played Olivia Walton on “The Waltons” television series, is the only other person present. However, she is also vaguely reminiscent of my middle school business teacher (Blair), as well as having somewhat of a motherly persona. She remains cheerful as she tells me about the enormous diamond though I do not recall what she said.

I get the vague impression that the gigantic diamond may be an alien spaceship, but this is uncertain, and there is no sign of aliens. It may be a man-made structure for use as a plant nursery but ultimately seems like a type of geodesic dome. Even so, I try to decide if it had emerged from underground or had landed from above.

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How to understand dreams in my online dream journal: A parking lot is typically a rendering of the association with emerging liminality in the realization my physical body is “parked” while I sleep.

A feature coming out of the ground (or considered as such at any point) is instinctual autosymbolism for emergence from slow-wave sleep. This dream has a similar significance as “A giant onion is growing in our backyard garden” from July 19, 1975. The top half of the diamond in this dreaming experience, being above ground (especially in a parking lot), confirms to me that accessible layers (or facets) of memory only exist with the emergence of cognizance and consciousness during the beginning of liminality (increasing lucidity) to viable wakefulness.

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Because the details of this dream were similar to a “Pathways to Mastership” meditation I did not know of or use until years later, I have tagged this as precognitive.

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Night of July 5, 1964. Sunday.



One of the first vivid and somewhat lucid nightmares I remembered with more clarity as a young child is this one from age three. Woody Woodpecker is driving a car (which is rendered in my dream as a real car, that is, not like a cartoon), which seems like my brother-in-law Verdell’s car. Knothead and Splinter are also in the front seat. He accidentally drives off a very steep embankment (which is likely modeled after the road up to Grandad Bluff). His car rolls downward and out of control over the very steep incline with my dream showing (as if I am hovering in front of the scene) terrified expressions from the three of them, sometimes taking on an almost anthropomorphic appearance. His car does not turn over or completely wreck; it just keeps tipping forward a bit, dropping and moving forward. I seem to be hovering closer in front of his car at one point (almost as if switching between being in front of a movie screen as to actually being there, though incorporeal). It seemed to go on for a very long time. This was a late nighttime dream, but which seemed to “reset” and repeat near early morning. It did not cause me to wake with a start as with other nightmares.

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This dream is likely my first remembered “failed flight” waking transition. The birds, even though cartoons, are trapped in the car and there is no apparent escape. There is a transmutation of “I am falling” (waking consciousness shift though sustained here in real-time foreshadowing) to “they are falling” as well as “I cannot drive” to “he cannot drive”. This dream was very likely the result of the memory of riding in a car on the road up to Grandad Bluff and the sustained wariness I had in real life for a time.

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This vivid metacognitive dream is from Saturday morning (after sunrise) on June 8, 1974. (Dream # 2,728-01.) Reading time: 2 minutes.



In my dream, I am joyfully running through the cypress swamp in Fort Ogden, Florida, in the morning. (This activity is deliberate. I perform “walking with intent” and sometimes running to stabilize and vivify the dream state. People who only dream “non-lucidly” or who solely propagate “interpretation” above causation could never understand this.) I am free from school. Yesterday (in waking life) was my last school day before the summer break.

As I happily run, four or five of my school textbooks repeatedly bounce forward from my legs but fall back against my knees. (This odd event might be possible if I had a long book strap and the books unlikely remained in motion in front of me. Ultimately, though, this event is physically impossible, as is much dream content. On a side note, I never used a book strap in waking life.)

As I deliberately direct my focus deep into the cypress swamp while enjoying the boundless freedom of dreaming, I arrive at a clearing with a mobile home in the center. Both front ends of the mobile home have a metal pole with a torch atop it close by. Four or five shelves extend in front of the mobile home, exposed to the outdoor environment (though I do not recognize the ambiguity of this scene). Voodoo dolls fill the shelves and what appear to be dolls for children. Other “dolls” are only clusters of straw tied with red string. I know a witch (potential protoconsciousness) lives here, but I think she is out shopping in a nearby town. I find the scene pleasantly eerie, and I remain appreciative of bliss.

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Here are some recognized layers of causation and personal meaning:

Returning home (to Cubitis) after the last day of school brought me a level of joy and nostalgia that reminded me of when I lived in our mobile home in Fort Ogden. I had not yet been to any public school while living there. That level of freedom is a literal factor that integrates with “returning” to that specific waking-life status (even though the memory is missing in my dream because of virtual amnesia, so there is a fictitious association).

Dolls typically appear in a dream’s narrative from my metacognitive awareness of REM atonia (lack of mobility while sleeping and the understanding that my dream self’s body is artificial). It often becomes more of a self-evident factor in the last scene, as here. The first part of my dream, “running with intent,” is my deliberate navigation of vestibular phasing. REM atonia is the fundamental factor of that also, enhancing my dream self’s imaginary physicality. (Without the vestibular phasing response to REM atonia, there would be no imaginary kinesthesia in the dream state. Of course, most people have no comprehension or recognition of these quantifiable biological dynamics because they have succumbed to the agenda of disinformation agents and their asinine propaganda.)

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Morning of June 1, 1974. Saturday.



In this dream, I am solely an acknowledged member of an older, more traditional tribe of Native Americans (Shawnee). We have apparently found a few turtles of a special new species in the area of our side yard just north of our carport, but they eventually are (or had transformed into) a group of snakes that have apparently crawled into the remains of turtles and possibly though incidentally cause some people to think they are turtles, and who may take them home or perhaps get “too close” to “escape”. An older male tries to capture one though I am not sure if it is to use in a ritual or to eat.

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This waking metaphor renders the preconscious and emerging consciousness as a snake and turtle composite, but that is quite easy to understand for those who have actually worked with their dreams and understand that most (non-lucid) dreams are waking transitions and dreaming and waking metaphors - the snake because a dreamer sometimes moves about on his or her stomach when lying in bed, and a turtle due to the dreamer getting out of bed being analogous to a turtle coming out of its shell (as well as out from underneath the blanket). (It should also be obvious that snakes and turtles may represent other things depending on the dream type, level of awareness, and either induction or waking stage types.)

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Regarding direct influence, this mainly relates to the “Noggin Nodder” cereal toy surprises I had at the time, where one was a turtle and one was a snake in a log. You could put the snake’s head (and longer neck) in the turtle’s body and it would work the same as with the intended turtle model. (There was also a dog in a doghouse and a duck as well as other animals, thus you could make a “duck-dog” as well as a “duck in a doghouse” or a “snake in a doghouse” among other unlikely combinations. I have tried researching this again recently but can no longer find much information or the number of various photos I found online years ago.

Morning of March 31, 1974. Sunday.



I am halfway between full lucidity and still trying to work out if it might be a real-life scenario that I am in as it is very vivid and I have a high degree of mental clarity. I am on my school bus going home (perhaps about two-thirds of the way home in considering landmarks), traveling north. I am seated at about the middle of the bus on the left side (in regards to facing the front of the bus), nearest the aisle (though I remain uncertain if there is a schoolmate seated to my left though the bus seems more crowded than it would be in reality). Classmate Jeanette P turns her head around and looks back at me from near the front of the bus (also the left side and closest to the aisle) and smiles as if she is going to tell me something important (or that is the impression I first get). Instead, she just happily says, “Claude Smith…”. It is not sarcastic or condescending, but the way she says it is still somewhat annoying even though she seems cheerful and friendly. I guess what annoys me is the fact she sounds so assertive and even supportive while making such a seemingly blatant mistake or slight, regardless of her intent.

“That’s not my name,” I reply, sort of passively (while wondering how she had forgotten my last name). I try not to sound angry or as if responding to an affront. My dream fades at about this point and I remain annoyed at the nature of my dream directly after waking. I had not gotten the chance to see her reaction to what I had said (though she was still smiling as I was speaking). No one else had spoken to me at any point.

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There seems to be a specific outer layer of the preconscious where the preconscious personification (in this case Jeanette P) is not viably “with” the dream self, though, as here, not always aggressively so. This is curious, as I would otherwise assume such a “separation” to occur in a deeper level of the dream state. However, the logical probable explanation for this would be that the dream self is not perceived as the conscious self, so thus there is a deliberate lack of communication in the preconscious transition (as it would be biologically problematic to stay in the dream state at this point). I have documented and studied a number of versions of this situation since early childhood. It mostly only occurs in the final waking stage.

The main purpose of many shorter non-lucid dreams (rather than having a whole-self-relevant “interpretation”) and the last section of the majority of dreams in general is to return the dreamer into whole consciousness (utilizing liminal space, “return flight” metaphors, or visual coalescence in many cases). At the raw level, this is done with a falling jolt (or in some cases rising up), the loss of teeth, or something similar to trigger a stronger emotional reaction, such as being undressed in public, both a dream sign and reminder of where the real self is and a situation that might trigger emergent consciousness.

This dream utilizes the common “return flight” in a form I do not tag as such as it just features a seemingly ordinary school bus (though is still “the journey home” waking metaphor). Again, as my dream self identity is not my full conscious self identity (other than in apex lucidity), I am called the wrong name in the last stages of emergence. The emergence stage is validated by Jeanette P being at the front of the bus and “dismissing” my dream self (as my dream self metaphorically “reminds behind” rather than with a coalescence event).

Morning of February 10, 1974. Sunday. (Could have started to develop the night prior - before midnight, on February 9.)



My original dream journal title of this entry was “Ghosts”. I had somewhat carelessly drawn some of the imagery (the witch, the shirtless man, and the cloaked figure) and took it to school, but no one was interested.

In this very vivid and lucid dream, I had “stepped into my dream” simply by “getting off the couch I had been napping on” (although knowingly remaining asleep) and was heading south through our hallway. There was a very heightened awareness of energy and expectation - my target was the back door of our house that I often went through in lucid dreams, although in real life it was rarely used (much like the carport door from my bedroom). A short, rather small female (perhaps younger than I) walked out of my father’s old room from my right. She was wearing what looked like a cross between a full fancy wedding outfit and a classic Halloween witch costume, but it appeared all in white with a slightly bluish tint in the shadowy areas, including the glowing skin (similar to photographic negatives or tulpa templates where any light seems to come from inside the source if reflected onto it in the normal positive image). I am somewhat afraid, but not fully nervous; it is my dream after all, so I approach her. I notice that she has no eyes to speak of. Mostly, it is only wrinkles where her eyes should be, which go in rows down her cheeks, even though she seems fairly young. It actually looks a little like two vertical rows of gills down from where her eyes should be (much like the underside of a manta ray) - almost down to her mouth. I feel amazing tingling sensations as if sparks are hitting me from her presence alone. The power from her seems to make me fly backwards back down the hallway as sparks move about. She does not make any sound, but there is sort of an awareness of buzzing and a feeling of electricity everywhere. Some words come to mind like “her face was adumbrated” as if part of a story when I had first seen her more closely.

A little later, two other figures appear in the living room, Lyle Waggoner (the actor) and seemingly a man from the 13th century not wearing a shirt and carrying chains (although this is ambiguous, as Lyle seems to be that character at one point - seemingly the vampiric man from “Castle of Blood”). This part is more of a normal dream awareness not remotely as vivid as the hallway part. Lyle has an axe and it eventually ends up on the south end of the couch, but there is no blood or danger at that point, only the suggestion of such. I seemed to wake up (false awakening) into a vivid state of awareness and noticed that there was a pair of scissors at the end of the couch and thought it was interesting how my dream had changed scissors into an axe. However, I was still in the dream state. When I did wake up, there were not any scissors at all, even though I seemed to have some sort of false memory that there was throughout the night. For some reason, it seemed to be closely related to the Barbara Steele movie “Castle of Blood” (Danza Macabra) from 1964 (of which I was a big fan of since very young) but looks more like her character (in dress and presence, anyway) from “The Pit and the Pendulum”, but it did not really share much other than a loose idea about ghosts reliving their last day, which seemed to imply that I was supposedly a ghost in my dream as well, also odd that Lyle (known mostly only as a comedic actor at the time with Carol Burnett) appeared here as such.

There is also another part of my dream that seems to be possibly a different dream or “reset”. It involves another supposed ghost (but Grim-Reaper-like) that is like a green-cloaked figure (no face visible) sitting on the couch. It is non-threatening but I sense the word “abhorrence” in my mind.

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This dream has a very similar subtle “summoning” essence as my “Silver Manta” dream (in that I was aware on one vague level that I was deliberately bringing forth the being). The silvery glowing ghostly witch of course represents the moon as a circadian rhythm event, extraordinarily vivid here and with an odd intense level of lucidity. The main difference between the two dreams is that I do not “defeat” this being to instigate waking, which instead leads to a sense of healing, intense energy, and augmented “moon induction” in continuity. Eventually, this dream becomes offset into other patterns and is quite long because of its nature. The witch ghost and the silver manta are the same unconscious archetype which is evidenced by the fact that the witch ghost also has manta ray gills down each side of her face rather than normal eyes though she also represents the essence of my wife-to-be on one level.

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My wife Zsuzsanna was born on a Friday the 13th and as such, people have made sarcastic comments about her being a witch (especially because of all the unusual events associated with both of us growing up), and that she is smaller than average as with the figure in my dream, but it is probably not directly related, although interestingly, I did come to Australia on February 9th (1994). At the time of the dream, I think there may have been some sort of association with the name Wendy, which was the name of the first “girlfriend” I had when around age six, and not just because of the Wendy comic books I enjoyed (and she had curly dark hair).

Night of January 11, 1974. Friday.

Dream #: 2,580-02. Reading time: 38 sec.



This dream scene has been recurring. I approach a cliff on a mostly flat mountaintop and contemplate jumping off. It is only when I am certain I am dreaming and expect to fly. Sometimes I fly horizontally, though in other dreams, diagonally. I sometimes land in a valley without flying as much, almost like a fall, though not alarming or perceived as potentially dangerous (as it is only a dream). Landing in a valley typically causes my level of awareness to change. For me, flying creates an enhanced experience of imaginary proprioception.

In this instance, there is an orange hue everywhere, even though it seems late at night. I am facing east towards what seems like a sunrise, though it eventually seems to be more like past sunset (though in which case the sun would be behind me). I feel as if I am the only one around for miles. I feel a positive sense of “being where I should be.”

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Morning of December 16, 1973. Sunday.



I used to do various “dream experiments” when younger to learn more about how dreams “worked” - as nothing I read about dreams ever held any personal truth for me (especially so-called dream dictionaries, which I read only for entertainment and sometimes to laugh at and scorn and wonder how they came up with some of the idiotic concepts that were sometimes more generic than the nonsensical but harmless “Wishing Well” syndicated daily newspaper feature that was printed next to the comics section along with the equally silly horoscopes).

Anyhow, regarding one such “experiment”, I spent an entire sixteen hours reading the same comic book stories over and over (carefully) to see if I would “dream” them or one of them. The comic had mostly Little Lotta and Little Dot stories. Anyway, the only dream I remembered with more clarity after one REM stage was a brief, vivid still image (as if one panel from a comic book) of Little Dot and Little Lola looking up at a dam that had just burst (as if it was starting to overflow due to a flood as well), with their faces partly in profile, showing great concern.

So much for that experiment. I took it to mean that my mind (at many different levels) had many ideas and that trying to force a particular story (or stories) by repeating it all day and night was like damming up my creativity or otherwise dynamic mental energy. However, in terms of imagery, certain types of somewhat repetitive photo projection certainly works with the right frame of mind and personally viable affirmations (and using viable meditation).

Morning of July 8, 1973. Sunday.



[I willfully enter into what I consider may be my last dream of the morning. I maintain my lucidity, perhaps only losing a thread or two of my conscious self identity. The essence of my neural activity becomes the more tangible form of water, as it most often does, and the water expands to form a lake. I welcome the presence of female genitalia, and it is rendered as a canoe, which floats on the shimmering lake in mid-afternoon].

I look upon Lake Katherine. The area seems more rural than it is in reality. I gaze upon the beauty of the reflected trees, downwardly mirrored in the lake’s surface around its perimeter.

[I desire female company and physical pleasure, so I choose to become fully integrated within my dream self’s imaginary body.]

I am sitting in the canoe facing my dark-haired green-eyed gypsy dream girl. We begin to become intimate. My sense of touch is augmented. We mostly kiss for several minutes.

[I am enjoying my dream very much. My dream girl is passive and welcoming. I begin to become distracted by some sort of ambiance that extends beyond my will. It sounds somewhat like hissing.]

A large green sea serpent rises up out of the water on my left in somewhat of an “S” shape, hissing at us. It is not that close to the canoe but displaying at least ten feet of its body from the lake’s surface to the top of its head.

[The preconscious is warning me that I need to leave my dream even though I do not want to. Still, the preconscious’s lake denizen is rather silly-looking, modeled after the one in the Carl Barks “No Such Varmint” Donald Duck comic book story, though slightly more realistic and menacing, though I do not feel that threatened because I am lucid.]

I want to be more intimate with my dream girl but upon touching her, the tangibility of her forearm seems to dissipate. My dream world starts to dissolve.

[I float horizontally and upwards, my back downwards, in the higher mental realm of dissipating liminal space, annoyed by my dream being over. I can still hear the hissing to my left. The hissing turns out to be the real sound of the garden hose as my mother is watering the front flower box in real life at this time, some of the water spraying onto my closed jalousie windows.]

My spoiled dream is of no consequence. I married my dark-haired green-eyed gypsy dream girl on April 9, 1994.

Morning of May 6, 1973. Sunday.



I have had a few dreams (early to mid-1970s) of a miniature but “real” Cape Kennedy / Cape Canaveral being set up in my bedroom, living room, or side-yard to the south. In one, outside, seemingly in late morning in Cubitis, I knock the rocket over that was about to launch (it was about three-quarters my size) and watched the “chaos” below with no regret. Still, even though I am supposedly a “giant” in their eyes, everything else (including the houses) was of correct size and to my scale, though there were also some “miniature trees” in my immediate area, only up to about my ankles or so. It was the area between my house and the neighbor to the south, but oriented more towards my front yard. It seemed very realistic (I was semi-lucid any very aware of the details), and it vaguely reminded me of the “Thunderbirds” television show (although the “real miniatures” were much smaller in my dream and there were larger ant-like signs of people and activity).

Morning of February 8, 1973. Thursday.



There seems to be a (fictional) movie involving a sailor’s romantic relationship (and he is an unknown character to me). I am watching a very large television (perhaps four square feet) and there is a movie on, seemingly oriented on the west side of the room, though I am not sure what building I am in. (It may be from a memory of a motel my parents and I stopped at when traveling to Florida.) There are scenes of the man being intimate with an unknown woman, mostly hugging and talking at first (though followed by kissing and a love-making scene). The scene relates to his leaving America, I believe. (It may be that he has already left America to meet this female in another country, perhaps Europe or Australia, though I am not certain.) I think the movie is called “The Kiss”. Eventually, though starting out as a cutaway view, everything takes on an X-ray appearance at one point and I am watching the insides of their bodies in x-ray. It does not seem that unusual. Later, I notice color variations. The flowers in a vase on a table in the motel room seem to be affected by the colors on the television screen or change accordingly. It is almost as if features of my dream are “leaking” into each other.

This dream seemed a partial result of a less focused “experiment” where I was deliberately trying to dream in black and white. I think the cutaway view may be an influence from looking at cutaway views (side views) of the human reproductive system.

2 minutes and 15 seconds to read.

Friday morning, 13 October 1972.

The Pink Snake that Tried to Follow Me Home

Dream # 2,125-04.

While dreaming, I have dream state awareness, but I do not change the ongoing implication that is only mildly annoying. I occasionally feel vague abdominal cramps through the veil of sleep, aware of my status but without pain.

A small, skinny Pepto Bismol pink snake follows me through the empty halls of my middle school but is always a few feet behind me. I do not attempt to run from it. I perceive it as friendly but annoying. I do not think about whether it is venomous or not.

I look back and see it atop a row of lockers. It almost seems to be grinning, more with friendly curiosity, not a threat. It sometimes hides.

At one point, I wonder if it might be a relative, perhaps an uncle visiting from Wisconsin whom I have not met, or even my grandfather. Its essence is more like part of a cartoon in contrast to being realistic.

I continue to walk north, going home to Cubitis from Arcadia. (I never walked this route in real life as it was too far.) I walk through abstract and undefined spaces (some with indoor-outdoor ambiguity, others merely abstract), though still focused on returning home (even though I am already home and in bed sleeping).

As I think less about the snake and more about walking home, I realize it is probably not following me anymore. I decide to teleport home, which brings about wakefulness as I teleport.

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I have had many dreams where my dream self perceives deliberately waking up as teleporting. This error in thinking (in ambiguous metacognitive or liminal states that most dream writers pretend do not exist) is no different than protoconsciousness referring to a dream as a “movie.” It is flawed dynamic imagination and natural virtual amnesia (incomplete pathways from not being conscious). There is no reason to be stupid about it.

The snake in this dream is Pepto Bismol pink. (I drank a lot of Pepto Bismol when I was a child and did not find out until recently that children under 12 should not drink it.)

Pink is rarely a color that noticeably occurs in my dreams but is more often Pepto Bismol pink - which I always have the dream state awareness of as being so and sometimes become annoyed at how the color is “interfering” with my dream’s narrative, though all pink is not exclusively so. I usually do not put “meaning” into specific colors unless I understand what they “represent” while in the dream state.

Snakes (with no “convenient” singular “meaning”) sometimes appear in my dreams when I have abdominal cramps with indigestion. (This causality was more common in childhood.) This factor is not “interpretation” (which I know is an asinine fallacy) but the realization of underlying dream content influence, not opinion or pretending, as so many do. One association I have always had is a snake’s similarity to the human intestine because of its size and shape. There are many dreams more specific under this influence. (An additional factor relates to a boa constrictor squeezing a person’s abdomen.) Ultimately, snakes appear in dreaming experiences for many reasons in the realms of imagination, but the connection to the human intestine remains predominant for me (other than the vivid but generic waking alert/RAS dream outcomes).

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