non-lucid

Morning of August 15, 1971. Sunday.



This (“Sideyard Burial”) is the original journal title. When my family had first moved to Cubitis, my father had eventually taken down a very large tree that was in the north side-yard that he was concerned might eventually fall on the house during a strong storm or hurricane. Later on, the stump (and most roots) was also taken out and for a time, it was an additional incidental “well” that was about six feet deep or so. It was filled in a few years later. I used to lie on my stomach and watch all the trapped toads come out from the recesses at the bottom when throwing down an earthworm or beetle or some such. Seeing them come out from different areas to go after the same potential meal was kind of fun at that time. It very vaguely reminded me of movies that had scenes of ancient Rome and gladiators.

Later on, that area was a place of mystery in a few dreams. There was a very long dream in which a feeling of strangeness was present and the actual body of Christ was buried there about five feet down or so. There was even something about an investigation of the scene. Mostly, I am aware of the skeletal hand and arm coming out from the side of the well. However, over time, it is only determined to be roots (even though there actually was the skeletal hand and arm in earlier scenes).

This is vaguely like a much later dream where the holy “bones” turned out to be plastic forks and such for picnic supplies - “The Temple and the Tomb (January 1996)”. The “burial” dream was fairly haunting in one sense but certainly not nightmarish. There have been a reasonable number of dreams where things changed in such a manner where something unusual or eerie turned out to be mundane, including the “vampire bat” to large moth in one older dream.

There was also a dream firstly from when I was four years old where a “bear” turned out to be a burned tree stump, which I saw later in an actual story in real life (that was very similar in some ways) - but this was also from a story my father had told me long before my dream which supposedly happened to someone he knew - that is, a friend mistaking a burned tree stump for a bear when they were out at night - an event that was probably fairly common and probably still happens now and then as people are always mistaking something for something else, especially at night.

There was also a dream (1973) where the Roanoke Colony (the “lost colony”) was camped out in that part of the yard (strange, considering that it was Florida). I watched them from the roof, watching the fire’s glow and the people standing about. I am aware that one of them - a toddler - is Virginia Dare, but that is also an association with a (deceased) sister named Virginia.

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This dream is a generic DDR event where what is believed and somehow “reported” (by the media) to be the skeleton of Christ about six feet down (near an area where my father had removed a tree in real life) turns out to be plant roots. This is all seen as if incorporeal and with a sort of implied x-ray-like vision (though with natural visual details) through underground areas. There is much more to this one, though. This specific location was very rare in my dreams and the only other significant examples were specifically related to precognitive dreams concerning my “mystery girl” - again revealing her exact appearance before I made contact with her in reality, one where I fell down unable to move in the same orientation as the “bones” from my 1971 dream. Also, my oldest daughter’s birthday falls on this dream’s date, so I consider it to have at least two “markers”.

Night of April 9, 1971. Friday.



Brenda W, a female classmate and friend (who lived just north of me but on the other side of Highway Seventeen in real life), also often playing a role within the main “mystery girl” composite or “wife-to-be stand-in” - is visiting my home in Cubitis. It seems to be morning, around nine o’clock. Her father is there as well as my father, I think (and perhaps both of our mothers in another area). We are all in my father’s original old room near the southern end of the room close to the windows and more towards the door, I being the only one sitting on the floor. Everyone else is at a table. I talk to her father (who is closest to me, sitting in a chair) about marrying her and he eventually asks me if he can look at my toy plastic army tank. When he looks at it, he accidentally but clumsily breaks the turret off. It is ruined, but I do not show my own anger as I do not want him being angry about his own carelessness by my acknowledgment of it - or perhaps he did it on purpose (this is not certain) - in which case an unpleasant confrontation would ensue. (This is probably a representation of the “defeat” or lack of readiness of my boyish masculine energies by her father - an obvious sort of symbolic “breaking or denial of manhood” or the male member, I suppose.)

There is another scene where either Brenda or the “mystery girl” (as I only see her in shadowy silhouette for the most part) and I are on a hilltop, either in late afternoon or early evening just as the sun is going down. There is a similar awareness of the animation from “Song of the South” (from 1946). Leaves and flower petals are blowing around us in spirals. It is a very positive feeling. It almost seems like a wedding scene. My real wedding years later was on April 9, which was indeed to the “mystery girl”. Last year on this date (April 9, 1970) was also a marriage-related dream. (On a side note, when I married in real life, there were leaves and petals blowing around in a wind during a mild storm though we were under a shelter in Hervey Bay and the storm stopped immediately after the wedding, which can be seen on the video we have).

It seems that the toy tank scene of this dream set was partly influenced by an episode of “The Partridge Family”. I was ten and so was Danny Bonaduce on the show. He was mistakenly drafted into the army on this episode by an “infallible” army computer and his mother took him to the induction center and he even goes through the tests because they do not “really” look at him.

As I carefully go over thousands of heavily documented dreams, I am noticing two things a bit more; one being far more subtle television influence than I originally thought (which seems odd considering the level of synchronicity and even common precognitive associations), and yet two - there being far more unexplainable connections than even I originally thought.

Morning of April 7, 1971. Wednesday.



In real life I had shown a young female teacher, after class, my “How and Why Wonder Book of the Moon”. When she asked “Can I have this?” I thought she meant that she wanted to borrow it for a short time for another class so I said “yes”. Unfortunately, I never saw the book again (so I guess she thought it was a gift). I did not ask her about it and I did not tell either of my parents about the event. (I did have most of the “How and Why Wonder Books” of the time period). I was not angry. I just felt rather strange about the situation. I thought perhaps that I would get it back at the end of the school year but did not. I was always quite passive in the presence of public authority, not because I liked, “appreciated”, or trusted authority in any way - in fact, it was the opposite and I was passive because I saw most such people as unpredictable, unintelligent, and unaware (and likely dangerous at the drop of a hat) except for perhaps a few teachers during my school years, but even then, I strongly sensed their shortcomings and overall incompetence given the circumstances, which often frustrated me but I remained quiet.

During this time, I thought of the book being returned on “Moon Day”. I had “worked out” that this was the day relating to the moon and had a false memory that the moon was always full on a Monday.

The main in-dream theme that recurred here for a few weeks was the idea that people only got married on Wednesdays. It became “Wedding Day”, the “long form” of “Wed Day”. In reality, I never did learn how to “mentally say” Wednesday. If I do attempt to actually think of Wednesday as Wednesday, it comes out wrong due to the bizarre and atypical spelling of the word. This stems from earlier years where I never once said (mentally) anything other than WED NEZ DAY. This is why I so quickly learned to spell it (even over incorrectly spelling “what” as “hwat”, “when” as “hwen”, and so on when four years old). To this day, I mentally think “Wed nez day” when I want to write it, knowing the “z” is actually an “s” and then write Wednesday…I wonder if other people do this.

Morning of April 4, 1971. Sunday.



My dream renders what is intended to be an area of the West Elementary school grounds for playing games, though it is in an incorrect (though not regarded as incorrect by my dream self) featureless location that is implied to be northwest of the elementary school building.

It seems to be late morning. My schoolmates are sitting in a circle and a game of “Duck, Duck, Goose” is in progress. In the back of my mind is a vague idea that I am in a movie that is presently being filmed (which was a recurring aspect of my childhood dreams that suggests subliminal conscious self awareness of being in the dream state, yet without viable lucidity).

In this version of “Duck, Duck, Goose” I am aware that the person who is caught is to eventually marry the person who catches them. I find myself walking clockwise in a circle around the seated group of our schoolmates, with Toby a few feet in front of me (even though there is only one “it” in “Duck, Duck, Goose”). Toby intends to tap Brenda on the head, much to my dismay. However, instead of Brenda being tapped and getting up to chase Toby, she dodges Toby’s attempt to tap her and the roles become reversed. Toby ends up chasing Brenda around the circular group of seated schoolmates.

I decide to start running after her as well, to get to her before Toby does, though I remain at a distance. Still, Toby never comes any closer to her than about six feet. We run around and around and it seems to go on for a long time. The three of us never leave the circle to run elsewhere. For a time, I contemplate the adult paperback Western “The War on Charity Ross” (by Jack M. Bickham), which I had recently read. I start to contemplate that this event is “The War on Brenda Wilson”. There is a sense of drama and anticipation, though my dream eventually fades without a victor.

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The failure of my personified subconscious to perceive the setting as wrong yet still possess the memory of a paperback I had recently read is typical of the unusual erroneous neural gating of the dream state.

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My dream designates Brenda as the Vestibular System Personification (a waking alert factor which RAS mediates due to the biological vestibular system ambiguity of being unconscious), though she does not fall or fly but runs in a circle, though there is the implied vestibular-system-based flight symbol of being a “goose”.

Even here at age ten, my dream self was thinking of life partnership. Brenda was validated, in a prescient sense, to symbolize Zsuzsanna long before we met (even though Zsuzsanna often appeared literally as herself, though sometimes as part of a composite which also integrated Brenda, even directly before Zsuzsanna first made contact with me, mainly because I did not learn that Zsuzsanna was a real person until March 1991). Zsuzsanna and I were married on April 9, 1994. (One of the stories she wrote when she was fourteen was called “Wilson’s Dream”, which was about dream state adventures into other worlds. Her first tribal name from the PAIA was “Magic Pen”, which I viewed as a play on female swan, which has a loose association with “Duck, Duck, Goose”.)

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This online dream journal entry was reformatted from the source material, abridged, and clarified on Wednesday, 21 February 2018.

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Night of February 13, 1971. Saturday.



Brenda W, a female classmate I was fairly close to, and who lived just north of me in Florida, turned out to seem to also be some sort of dream symbol and remarkable catalyst for my future wife (there seemed nothing like this for the “other” - Susan R - although she was already present in my life at the time, so did not need a precognitive or anachronistic catalyst, I guess). There is a lot of evidence for this as well as some pretty strange synchronicity on top of precognitive aspects over a longer time period, some now just coming to light which I will add here, as in all honesty “it never ends” as the deeper I look the more “impossible” synchronicity unfolds, in layers, going far beyond being mathematically possible by chance alone.

In the first part of my dream, which seems to be taking place fairly late at night, I go to Brenda W’s house with a larger bouquet of flowers to give to her. As I am walking along, I horrifyingly notice that a yellow bulldozer had ran over and killed her just prior to my arriving, possibly by minutes (I associated yellow in my dreams with “caution” at the time - as with traffic lights and painted borders on floors for possible hazards). Her right hand, from the lower part of the wrist up, is sticking up from the ground (where there is no grass but a few stones here and there). The rest of her had been covered up. I am in awe over the melancholy scene. My dream fades or shifts into the next scene…

I am at the cemetery a few blocks from the school - I had ridden my bicycle past there (instead of taking the school bus most of that year) in real life several years later. In my dream, I am at Brenda’s grave. It seems to be open to display her in almost as a sort of Snow White scenario (or perhaps the grave is not “finished” yet?). It is at one of the graves closer to the road, but as I do not have the luxury yet of knowing the exact location/lot, I do not yet know whose grave it actually was in real life (something I would like to know) as although some cemeteries have exact locations of lot views online, this one does not and I do not quite have enough time to do more extensive research presently.

I reach down to tentatively touch her and get a strange sensation of sticky cellophane covering her entire form. This fallacy seems somewhat “logical” in my dream. It is a fictional way of preserving her appearance, I suppose, similar to how a poster is laminated to make it last much longer. It is a very sad scene for me. I look upon her laminated body for what seems like a long time before I resign to continuing with my life.

Later on (seemingly much later in my dream - perhaps two weeks or more), I am walking in the main part of town. I see Brenda, alive and apparently healthy and uninjured, walking around in the distance. I start to approach her, but she runs off (after stopping and watching me for a minute or so as I go closer to her), appearing to be frightened of everything - or perhaps she does not want to be “discovered” (alive again) by anyone who knew her yet. This happens a few times and I am never able to catch up with her or find where she is staying. I see her vanish among smaller groups of people and she always somehow eludes me. Perhaps she is lost and does not know where to go.

Doing a bit of research, I found a different Brenda W (perhaps her grandmother) in a cemetery near where her family would have originally lived, and that other Brenda died on my wife’s birthday in 1991 - which is the year we first made contact. It was also in block 36, which was the number of my wife’s street address when we first made contact. Layer upon layer, it never ends.

So, the Brenda W in my dream was running away, perhaps in being a symbol of my future wife, was not to be in my path at that time.

Oak Ridge link

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The event where I touch Brenda’s “corpse” (the back of her left hand) in her open casket relates to a (subliminal) interest in the nature of sleeping and dreaming and is also a dream sign (as she is in a sleeping position and was likely also asleep at the time of my dream in the same directional orientation - thus on one level, this was likely distorted remote viewing). Additionally, the fact that Brenda; neighbor, friend, and classmate; was the only female as such in my youth that I perceived as dying and coming back to life (in a number of dreams) and who was also confirmed as a “stand-in” for my soulmate Zsuzsanna (other than when my “mystery girl” herself appeared, sometimes distorted into some of Brenda’s features), it speaks volumes.

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Morning of December 23, 1970. Wednesday. (Original data and date validated.)



Recurring over Christmas holidays during fourth grade. I am at school for some reason during the weekend starting Christmas break. A very short man/elf (who is very old) - or possibly a dressed-up dwarf or midget more “realistically” - is singing “Jingle Bells” very mournfully (dragging out “way” with a very melancholy flow with about three syllables). He used to sing it with great cheer, but his wife, who was three times taller than him (a blue Christmas fairy or whoever) had died the year before. However, in one part of my dream it seems her “spirit” is present and in a happy mood watching him and there seem to be a few other “woodland characters” in the background, possibly to later participate or remain an audience. (The idea for the “blue fairy” as a dream influence may have come from “Pinocchio”.)

In real life, I had gotten a really long candy-cane-striped pencil with an elf head on the end - not an eraser though, it was made of plastic and cloth - from school as a gift from a teacher. I actually had it for many years, unused.

Also in real life, I had exchanged gifts at school with Morris E based on name draws in school. I had given him (bought by my mother) a small spinner game with tiny pegs in a plastic box about the size of a deck of cards, and he gave me a pair of very cheap toy plastic handcuffs. However, the handcuffs broke after a very short time before school was out that day (and during the so-called Christmas party). The teacher made us switch back to where we kept our “own” gifts and of course, this made Morris E more of my nemesis than he already was, blaming me for “ruining his Christmas”, something I did not take all that seriously, though. My mother seemed vaguely annoyed at me keeping the gift as well. It is possible the mournful singing dwarf was some sort of representation of Morris in one layer, as he was a “dwarf” of sorts, that is, his growth was stunted and he remained very short as he got older.

This dream colored my mood, but not in a negative way. It just felt “right” at the time, almost nostalgic (even for a child). I did make the stronger association with a “Christmas dwarf” rather than a Christmas elf.

Morning of November 5, 1970. Thursday.

Dream #: 1,417-01. Optimized 2 min 15 sec read.

Using as simple a writing style as I can (using several types of readability software and dream causation maps), this entry looks at an early childhood dream. It had high but passive metacognition and autosymbolic concurrence with dream state awareness and seemed quite long despite its simple theme.

My dream’s location is an isolated river adjacent to woodlands, with a boat ramp on one bank. I remain on the side with the boat ramp in the early morning. It is most reminiscent of Lettuce Lake, a section of Peace River (in Florida), I had frequented in waking life.

Wayne, a chubby Floridian male schoolmate, is present in my dream’s final segment, though I had been in the area for some time before his arrival. The water lowers over time, revealing additional anchors.

There was a storm from the north (though my dream self does not arrive or have physicality until after it occurs). It caused several valuable anchors to wash up over the boat ramp and riverbank. Some are ancient, and some are modern. They have various designs and are made of different materials, though most are metal.

I think of collecting these anchors as a treasure, but Wayne arrives and claims they are his, inferring the “finders keepers losers weepers” cliché, even though I was in the area before him. “I found it,” he says, approaching one of the anchors I had been studying before he arrived.

Later, I am the only one at the location, but I eventually accept it is all imaginary, and I wake for the day.

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From early childhood, in many dreams, there is a dream character who serves as a precursor (or catalyst) to wakefulness as my metacognitive navigation of the dream state reaches its conclusion, primarily from the varying levels of mental and physical duality that only the dream state manifests. (It does not mean the character “represents” me in any way, as it is mainly to differentiate between the fictions of dreaming, sans enigmatic space, and the stability of viable wakefulness and its genuine memory serving as an “anchor.”) I have used many names for this predictable process over the years. Perhaps the “sleep-wake monitor (or mediator)” is one of the better names, as it represents the activity of RAS (Reticular Activating System) and its supraliminal navigation that mediates sleep-wake transitions.

Water lowering over time, as I approach wakefulness, has occurred in thousands of dreams since childhood. (I do not even include the otherwise predictable process in many online entries.) This attribute correlates with acknowledging water bodies as REM sleep and has an association with ultradian rhythm. As I wake, the dynamics of sleep lower and fade. I used to view it as somewhat of a tidal analogy. Even so, I have found that moon phases in real life appear with a different phasing pattern in dreams.

Finally, the anchors are this dream’s representation of my metacognitive awareness of REM atonia. Chains also correspond with such recognition. (An anchor is also otherwise found on the end of a chain, though not in this dream.)

To clarify what this dream “means,” it corresponds with the same phasing responses as many of my dreams.

Wayne claims “I found it” as a preconscious pathway to viable conscious thinking above the imaginary dream self. This function also increases my metacognitive awareness of dreaming. It is not a factor resulting from waking life.

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Morning of October 17, 1970. Saturday.



It seems to be late morning. I have two small pet bats and I am walking around otherwise on my own in the main part of Arcadia. They are on my arm shooting small but long and forking lightning bolts at each other from their mouths. They express various funny faces when the lightning hits their eyes, mouth, nose, or ears, and eventually even a public US mailbox (which seems important for some reason). There is a vague feeling that I may become embarrassed if this continues in public, but only based on the idea that someone could come along and accidentally get struck by the tiny lighting bolts and blame me. At one point, they sit on my left shoulder (and now it seems as if I am seeing myself while incorporeal) and one licks its “lips” as small lightning bolts from the other bat hit it near the mouth.

As I start to focus more on the mailbox than my pet bats (though I am unsure if I have a letter to mail, though perhaps one my mother gave me to mail for her - though in reality at this time, it was usually my mother that mailed my letters), I begin to wake.

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Note One: The mailbox “seems important” to my mostly non-lucid dream self because it is a symbol for a sustained conscious intent for dream self communication with my conscious self identity to trigger lucidity and augment awareness (first put into practice in December 1966, around age six), though never intended to be rendered literally as here. However, there is duality in this dream (the two bats). This makes me suspect that I am in communication with someone in addition to myself.

Note Two: Lightning is often a real-time dream state metaphor that represents increasing neural activity (dendrite synapse analogy) as a RAS precursor as well as an associated play of the same symbolism based on lightning supposedly “bringing something back to life” (as in the movies “Dinosaurus” and various Frankenstein movies) simply (and obviously) analogous to waking up. (Though in some cases, it reflects physical pain or the residual memory of physical pain.)

Note Three: The very common (over one in five of my dreams) “return flight” waking symbolism factor is here, as the two bats (though they had not been seen flying). In this case, they seem more of an induction remnant, as bats are nocturnal and a symbol of being unconscious. (They are also a circadian rhythms factor which seems out of phase here as my dream’s setting is late morning, probably because of sleeping later on a Saturday yet still focused on the wonder of nighttime.)

Note Four: When Zsuzsanna was a child, her father caught bats in a large jar. Additionally, as there is duality in this dream, I feel that the mailbox is prescient of the fact Zsuzsanna and I wrote to each other before meeting and marrying, especially as bats also symbolize prescience (as in a few other dreams, especially the recurring “Patches” series, which had very detailed long-term prescience relating to Zsuzsanna before I met her or even knew of her real-life existence).

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Resupplemented on Sunday, 8 October 2017.

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Morning of October 11, 1970. Sunday.

Dream #: 1,392-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



“The Visitor” is my original dream journal title from childhood.

There is a house with a supposedly haunted kitchen. I am unsure whose house it is or where it is, though it could be a sister’s house even though there is a commercial venue association at one point, vaguely causing me to think of the Coney Island restaurant in La Crosse where I had not been since 1967, though the rest of the house seems residential. (Houses with commercial features are not uncommon in my dreams.)

People believe in the haunting due to reports of a ghost drinking a glass of root beer from a straw. No one saw a ghost, but other people and I saw root beer lower in a glass until it was gone.

I eventually see that the “haunting” is the result of a daddy-long-legs spider at the top of a drinking straw. It is somehow drinking a full glass of root beer but never grows bigger. Seeing this amusing event creates a cheerful mood. There were resets of my dream, but this final scene was silly. (At one point, the spider seems to have a cartoon face.)

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My dream has subliminal associations with perseverance (as with the “Eensy Weensy Spider” song and fingerplay, the drinking straw being analogous to a water spout). I was unafraid of looking more closely at the presumed haunting. “Out came the sun and dried up all the rain” is another association with water (melatonin) lowering over time (though root beer in this case).

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Morning of June 1, 1970. Monday.



In my dream, I had been on a mid-morning school field trip with classmates in the southeastern side of the main part of Arcadia (and south of my school) but got separated and did not return to the group when I should have. It is at a very small museum (but which is more like a small empty family-run grocery store or knickknack store) with hardly anything in it, one of the only features being a stuffed fox (in the taxidermy sense). It is on a large shelf (like the kind in a grocery store) that faces west, the fox’s head on the south end. At one point no one else is around, not even the people who supposedly own the “museum”. I am trying to work out if perhaps the fox comes to life and prowls the local area to get food to keep it in a more pristine appearance on the shelf but that does not make much sense. I do not see much else at the supposed museum other than a few empty narrow crystal vases and at least one large urn. I should probably go home but do not know if I should go back to school instead though it seems to be on or near the last day for the semester. Nothing threatening happens at any point. There does seem to be some sort of vague mystery associated with the fox. There is a vague idea that I will visit there again soon but will be somehow invisible.

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Although this dream was precisely precognitive, it may have other layers of meaning. (Remember that only the dreamer can viably “interpret” his or her own dream. Do not let people mislead you.)

On June 5, 1970, the following Friday after this Monday morning dream, it was the last day of school prior to summer vacation. My class went to a park as well as a small unusual museum (that looked as if it might have served as a knickknack store in the past) that I did not know existed (especially as it was in an area my parents never drove to south of the school) and I actually did see a small stuffed (real) fox.

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Of another layer, the fox could also represent the red-haired girl who was my close friend and next-door neighbor (also south of where I lived in the same orientation as the museum from the school). Even more obviously, her name was Lisa which actually means “fox” in Russian. She also had a somewhat sly demeanor. The fox was rendered as stuffed because she was not yet in her transitional stage into the teenage years (thus “inactive” at this point relative to a more mature relationship) and on a particular level on the shelf up from the floor as she was neither “beneath” me or “above” me in that sense. On another note, she was the only other one “with” me (in the museum setting), as she did not go to my school or know my classmates at this time, though was someone I spent the most time with otherwise. She primarily faced away from me, though her head was turned to the right to partly acknowledge me even though we were not always “face to face” or seeing “eye to eye” (though we did share dream work at times). This dream also has additional layers of meaning too personal to get into, relating to self-fulfilling prophecy on one level.

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Morning of April 13, 1970. Monday.



Summary of meaning: In subliminal anticipation of the need to get up for school, my dream renders a school setting, but this is more about having the physical energy to wake up and start the day. My classmate goes through a time warp while pole vaulting and instantly becomes supposedly old skeletal remains. The hypnopompic physical event (back jab) lacks intensity, possibly because of the flight association and “rising above it” in the moment of waking. Still, the pole may be subliminally perceived as a pointy object and may have an association with the hypnopompic back jab.

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This was a shorter dream in childhood but quite vivid and eerie. I am not sure of the backstory or how it came in. My schoolmates and I were never involved in pole vaulting at any prior time in real life. The outcome is rather macabre. There is a slight possibility that the idea of pole vaulting is associated with magnetism (regarding north and south poles on a magnet) or time distortions caused by magnetic fields.

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I am seemingly near the high school building and area across from the primary school which I had been a student of in real life (West Elementary). A friend, D Smith, a black boy about my age, is running about and is going to be involved in a pole vault attempt. I do not seem to be engaged in any sport or practice of any kind; I am just standing around. There are hardly any other people around, mostly at least one male teacher or coach and a few other students and possibly a couple parents.

(Somehow, I am aware that the bar is sixteen feet above the ground. This has been a recurring height distance which may relate to symbolism of possible measurement in Hz regarding Beta waves. Beta states are the states associated with normal waking consciousness. 16 Hz would be the last phase of Beta 1 power.)

D begins the pole vault routine, running due south. However, when he goes up and over, he quickly ends up as “old” skeletal remains on the other side, along the side of the road (with a soft “gasp” or “sigh” from the others; no yelling occurs), which is near the sports area. I somehow perceive that he went through a time barrier.

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This is instant death waking symbolism, unrelated to day-to-day reality (as dreams do not really have “interpretations” as such). It simply means I am coming out of sleep, the symbolism of which is rendered in many different ways. It can also be typified as a form of exit flight waking symbolism, more specifically, failed flight waking symbolism in biological anticipation of physical (muscular) hypnopompic effects (which are spontaneous and cannot be controlled by will).

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Morning of March 17, 1970. Tuesday.

Dream #: 1,184-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



The southwest corner of West Elementary School’s playground is my dream’s setting. A small light-colored rabbit is trying to get through the bottom of a chain-link fence with a few broken links (to leave the fenced area of the playground to go south, into the backyard of a home). The rabbit seems too large to squeeze through.

Other children are with me, mostly friendlier schoolmates, including Danny and Annette, as well as Linda. Some are standing together, but a few are squatting, including me.

We happily sing, “Come little rabbit you can do it” to the tune of “Glow Worm” (a song my father performed now and then and one I had played on the accordion and organ). It seems to work, as the rabbit is making progress. I sense our singing ritual is effective.

Although we sing “come little rabbit” (instead of “come on, little rabbit,” though this would not fit the “Glow Worm” melody), the rabbit is going through the fence away from us. The “Glow Worm” lyric is “glow little glow worm, glimmer, glimmer,” which matches “come little rabbit, you can do it” with nine syllables.

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The causation of this type of dream correlates with instinctually or liminally navigating emerging awareness of physicality during the waking transition (as my mind cannot viably discern physicality or move my body while sleeping). The fence defines the state of liminality (and its duality) between dreaming and waking.

A rabbit’s back legs kick, my liminal association with the anticipated myoclonus of the waking transition.

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Morning of January 10, 1970. Saturday.



A boy I knew in real life as a classmate, Bobo C (at least he was always called BoBo though that was possibly only a nickname) was a couple years older than other students, and he had a mental disability (and apparently did not have access to a special school). He would continually shout “Are you sassin’ me?” (in the lower grades) when anyone talked to him, though as he got older, he seemed to become more settled and less emotional. He even became friendlier towards me and more than once took back a comic book from someone who had taken it from me without me asking him.

His persona becomes a “tall” dwarf in my dreams (I know - makes no sense). There is confusion of Rumpelstiltskin (which is not related to the “Snow White and Rose Red” story to my knowledge) in being the son of Rip Van Winkle (which is completely unrelated to either story in reality - though the names both start with “R” and have four syllables). Either there is two of him, or the father is much like the son in appearance. Both are old and have long white beards. I play a game with the names, everything from “Rump Van Winkle” to “Ripple Still Skin”.

At the edge of the world (which I originally wrote as a child in journals as the “end” of the world - not knowing that term was more relevant to an imagined event rather than a place) is a sort of barrier, like a single brick wall (not very wide - perhaps about six feet across and with a partial implied doorway or section of missing bricks), but with decorative residential features near the opening, such as an upright flower pot with one flower and a tipped-over one on the other side. This is where Snow White and Rose Red watch the world below. In this situation, they are enemies (both after the same male - me and their “place” on Earth). There is no logical realization that perhaps a person could just go on either side of the area with the wall, though I still get the impression there is not much beyond that (other than perhaps a long narrow bridge floating in space).

Bobo just wants to leave the region as he does not like the idea of “falling off the edge of the world” as he claims Columbus actually did (and was never heard from again). At the ending of one version, he climbs “invisible stairs” rather oddly (as if by two invisible steps at a time), though I somehow “know” they are not actually there and if I tell him they are not there, I might become responsible for any injury he incurs. Where he is going, though, is undetermined. If nothing exists beyond this space, where will he end up at?

Not much happens. I am tempted to turn the one plant pot upright, but do not have the bravery to do so. The ground may not be solid there.

One girl (I do not remember which one but probably Rose Red) is at an old-fashioned spinning wheel. However, she is not spinning gold but sharpening a knife. It is for a battle to come. (“Did you find a directing sign on the straight and narrow highway?”, “Someone is waiting just for you - spinning wheel is spinning true”.)

This was a “prototype”, apparently, for my “Castle of Winds” dreams in the 1980s (though there was a version in the mid 70s) and my life’s path in general, on a higher level - as the “other” (Susan R) “battles” my wife-to-be (long before I learned the “mystery girl” was real), and of course, the blonde hair and dark hair is relevant in this case. An invisible staircase could suggest “not getting the (right) support” (especially as he was mentally disabled) but stepping up anyway.

On a side note, yet more synchronicity. I just went to Facebook briefly and a brother (who rarely posts) left something on my timeline (for no apparent reason that I can presently guess, as there was no comment) - an animated GIF link featuring mostly red roses in very large clusters. I sometimes wonder how something can be so consistent, especially something “unexplainable”, and especially when the majority of people supposedly do not experience it.

Night of January 2, 1970. Friday.



This dream was more likely into the very early morning of the next day, perhaps around one or two am of the (beginning of) third of January. In my dream, I am aware that I am “sleeping” on my right side and oriented with my head to the north though the bed is in the southwest corner of my room and aligned against the west large jalousie windows. The time in my dream probably reflects the same time it is in reality. Even though I am apparently “sleeping” I am still aware of a scene (still in my dream-body as such - in my in-dream “sleeping” role yet somehow fully aware at the same time), of a shadowy unknown presence moving quickly into my room, a bony hand (seemingly of an adult - I am only nine at the time) gripping me on my left shoulder, me suddenly being aware and “waking” and turning around to look - and yet the presence, perhaps a human being, is gone immediately. I am left with a strange feeling on who it could have been - perhaps my future self with an important “message” for me, but the “other older me” left because I was asleep - but in contemplation, no human being could move that fast - though there is no stronger fear or concern remaining in my thoughts a short time later.

This is a rather unique dream in that it was a directly self-fulfilling “anniversary” type where, in 1977 on January 2, my dream reversed the roles; that is, I dreamt of touching a younger version of me on the left shoulder while in my Cubitis bedroom in the exact same setting and feeling of time. I do not really see this mundane connection of a self-fulfilling dream as remotely odd or unexplainable (even though others had when I was younger), especially in regards to the thousands of my dreams that did have unexplainable aspects concerning remote-viewing and precognition, which were always validated in very interesting ways.

The name of the second movie on “Shock Theatre” this night was called “The Clutching Hand”, though I did not see it or know of its plot (I sometimes fell asleep before the second feature started), so the title alone could have been the trigger for this dream, though again, it was not horror-related.