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Morning of March 10, 1986. Monday.



There is something found in a special small cardboard box covered with fabric, like the type some wristwatches are purchased in. It seems to have been hidden in an additional compartment inside. I seem to be a different character, seemingly a young version of Ray Milland, also having his voice when I speak, this being before or during his death in reality, though I had not seen any of his movies for some time. This seems important, as although my dream does not precisely reflect the plot of any movie he was in, it does have similarities and some of the same mood throughout to the movie “X: The Man with the X-ray Eyes” from 1963.

The box contains a special lens. It allows the person who looks through it to “see forever” and has different ways of displaying and revealing the otherwise unseen, not always consistent.

As the other character, I become addicted to this new way of viewing the world. Over time, my eye begins to bleed. I have similar opportunities as “X” (from the Ray Milland movie) in seeing through things, as well as having the telescopic perspective. At one point, I hear a seemingly ominous line from my character that goes, “when I look through the lens of evil, I can see myself looking back” and this seems to be the case. I look through the lens, and in the supposed far distance, is a scene of me sitting on a bed and looking back at me through the same lens, like some sort of distant mirror-like reflection. This seems to be some sort of extreme point, where the lens is now functioning in a different way.

In reality of course, because the world is a sphere, seeing everything on the planet would not be possible and would be cut off at the horizon (more so, there would be no potential for a distant mirror-like reflection). The lens seems to bend light in a way where you can see all the way around the planet and back in either perspective. (There is also a point earlier where I see myself looking through the lens, but from the back. This was an influence from a scene of the same concept from the original “Land of the Lost” television series.) I can also see into distant space, infinitely.

Eventually, my eyes become larger and bleed more, being very bloodshot, though one eye is much worse, implying some sort of side effect, as I use it more for the lens. Over time, I grow scales on my arms and legs and eventually gills on my neck. In my dream’s last scene, I become a mooneye fish and do one last vertical leap from the water’s surface. The fish’s eye is also bleeding, seen from a distance, followed by a dramatic zooming in as if from a movie.

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Ray Milland died on this tenth of March, after my dream. Additionally, my mother developed a severe eye infection where one eye looked extremely bloodshot (and she had never had such an infection before). Because I wrote this dream out as a short story after I woke, it later seemed very strange for my mother to read it when one of the lines read “the eye looked awful”, followed by other related details. I felt embarrassingly inconsiderate (though I had written it out prior to her condition). Additionally, I had caught a mooneye fish later, which is a type of fish I rarely ever caught.

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Night of November 8, 1985. Friday.

Dream #: 6,899-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min 30 sec.



Vestibular stage: I feel as if I am in a southwest area of La Crosse, possibly near Third Street, but my dream’s rendering is erroneous. I am riding my bicycle, probably past midnight, through a mist with an eerie glow. I had not seen any other traffic.

I am enjoying myself. I pedal faster and faster even though I cannot see what is ahead of me, though I am vaguely aware I am dreaming. At one point, I am moving fast through an alley, heading west. Suddenly, I see another vehicle approaching from the north as I am exiting into an open area that seems adjacent to a small parking lot to the north as well as an intersection. My dream becomes more vivid, though the certainty I am dreaming increases only in the last few seconds.

Preconscious emergence (as authoritative): The vehicle is a small motorcycle with a police officer riding it. I cannot see his eyes because he is wearing dark sunglasses (an indicator that I am sleeping) or a face shield under a light-colored helmet, though I can see his mouth, which has no expression. I suddenly slow down so as not to draw his attention with my speed, especially as it seems we might collide. Even though the scene is otherwise vivid and realistic, he and his motorcycle seem scaled down to about half the size they should be. I slowly approach the intersection as he continues south, to my left and beyond, without turning his head towards me at any point. I wake after he passes out of sight. (There was no vestibular drop, only a vague awareness of the process as the motorcycle crossed my path.)

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The intersection offers three choices. I can turn left to follow the motorcycle cop (which I technically do with the waking process), keep going (keep dreaming), or turn right with the implication of returning to slow-wave sleep (so-called dreamless sleep). (The direction options are atypical as I am otherwise on my left side when dreaming vividly, not my right.)

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One Christmas, my father bought me a toy remote control police motorcycle with an officer riding it. My dreaming experience rendered its nature as too small and of an artificial essence (though those aspects are common to dreams).

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Morning of November 4, 1985. Monday.



This is a somewhat distorted dream in terms of activity and themes. The main aspect of this one more vivid section is seemingly running from an area where there may have been a shooting of a president or mayor, though I am not sure if the person was killed. It first seems like I am in Wisconsin and then suddenly in Florida, running from the southwest to the northeast through my Cubitis backyard. It almost seems as if I had been involved somehow though I am not sure of my dream’s backstory.

At one point, where we used to have bonfires (a little more towards the southern section of the weedy area prior to the railroad tracks), there is some sort of implied epiphany of a “whale man”. The “whale man” is actually better described as a typical merman, I suppose, except that the bottom half is like a killer whale or orca, and the top half is a man. The theme is seemingly relative to the phoenix (only very loosely). Perhaps the politician was shot and returned as this being, or he was always like this (and thus I cannot be guilty of any possible crime), I am not sure. It also seems as if I am looking at a political poster for a short time. The part that is manlike reminds me of a young version of Walter Mondale. He seems suspended above the water with the whale tale in a slight arc. I think he actually may be running for president and as a Republican. He seems friendly and cheerful. I am not certain of his political values or standing. (In real life, I hardly ever thought about politics.)

There is probably a rhyming association with “whale” and “Mondale”. It is also possible that the whale represents a new political party relating to better ecological policies.

This dream is type ECA (subtype acc: parallel accompaniment). Here, the emergent consciousness is already coalesced into the last segment as the hybridized “whale man” (or merman implied to be aggressive on the bottom since the tail is of a killer whale or orca, but cheerful on the top; an atypical ambiguity). However, the phoenix essence is also very clearly implied as the reintegration of full consciousness, especially as the merman rises from the area in my Cubitis backyard where we had bonfires. The ambiguity of the hybridization was caused by dream events involving, firstly, the death of a politician (bottom layer - aggression) by the transition (top layer) of the phoenix concept - or politician’s “resurrection” (conscious self emergence as a cheerful epiphany)

Morning of September 9, 1985. Monday.



Watch out…for the horrible vampiric monster…the…Jacuzzi!

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I have said before that I have had hardly any serious nightmares in my life. The more vivid one in my young adult years was during an early afternoon nap. This was the first version of a short series of dreams (only the first one being an actual nightmare), where the name was semi-lucidly altered to something like “Chalcosi” (from “chalcosis” - or chronic copper poisoning), relative to their skin having a paler copper-color when dying.

It was of a horrible legendary creature that supposedly only lived seven weeks. They liked to eat people. They were to blame for the majority of missing people cases. I somehow fell in love with a “teenage” (in appearance only) version of the vampiric creature who I spent time with on a couch in the middle of the night as the rest of her family went out to eat people. This creature was born as a dangerous albino snake with boa-constrictor-like potential. It then changed into a killer albino tree-dwelling rabbit that sometimes leaped upon people at night. It then becomes a larger lemur-like creature (still albino) - becoming more monkey-like in some ways, and eventually an albino human-like creature with somewhat shark-like teeth (and growing as such, a lost one always being replaced, but almost immediately). As they neared death, their skin became a slight coppery color. Their hair was always white. I guess sometimes they wore wigs and sunglasses to hide their true identity, as their eyes remained snake-like. They lived in groups of a dozen or so at various ages.

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Of course, again, this horrifying creature was known as…

A Jacuzzi! Watch out for the Jacuzzis, they are coming to eat your neighbors!

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I awoke from the first version of this in a strange hypnopompic state. I felt dizzy and out of place and was hearing applause and disembodied voices, including the impression of a cheerful announcer talking about someone winning a Jacuzzi on “The Price is Right” - this as I saw the faces of the creatures fading in disorienting spirals. It was only then, after I was waking, that I slowly remembered hearing the word “Jacuzzi” on “The Price is Right” (which I only caught parts of now and then at a sister’s house during this time). I looked it up and finally remembered that it was a fancy whirlpool bath and not a dangerous monster.

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Updated on Tuesday, 28 June 2016: I can now look at this and easily recognize an unusual atypical and subliminal form of water induction (since “Jacuzzi” is a hot tub brand and in fact a whirlpool bathtub implies an essence of the Merkaba as a tornado does) and the strong metaphorical references to circadian rhythms (and even evolution). Albinos also symbolically represent moon induction (which is often linked to water induction relative to the symbolic “tidal” shifting of consciousness in dreaming and waking). Even more curiously, “Jacuzzi” rhymes with “Suzi”, the anglicized form of my wife Zsuzsanna’s first name, more relevant here as I have a relationship with this female Jacuzzi. The unlikely rabbit stage is a symbol for something emerging from the unconscious mind as a rabbit lives in a burrow and even this was a Source clue, as Zsuzsanna lived in Maryborough when we first made contact. Not only that, the age of the girl matched Zsuzsanna’s age from this time period - and to add to that even more curiously, she had a period where she drew vampire animals (and certainly not everyone has an interest as such). This is all very interesting and in fact, validates yet again that most dreams have precognitive layers of one form or another.

Night of August 17, 1985. Saturday.



This was probably one of my most common dream themes during certain time periods as a young adult. It usually involves either erupting volcanoes or meteor showers. I would say the volcanoes are a bit more common.

I would not call them nightmares for the most part (depending on the particular dream of course). They are more like some sort of meandering exercise in futility while under a sort of odd stress - yet sometimes turn out very nice, actually. The usual idea is, volcanoes are “approaching” (or rather more and more are growing and becoming active) and it is that way from north to south and no way to escape except by going, say west or east as fast and as far as possible, with no option to go back. Somehow, I and others manage to do this (do not ask how we get across the ocean, no logic in that, really, as this is not usually the type of dream I perform the act of running over the water in as is common in other dreams).

There is some sort of idea that when we go all the way around the world and come back from the other side, the volcanoes will be cooled off or inactive by that point. I used to think this type of dream was fairly common with most people, but really have not read about it that much. It is almost humorous in its implication if not seemingly futile regarding some scenes.

Strangely, there is almost always a group or two of people who believe that going towards the danger is somehow going to be better than running away, something to do with getting to where the danger has “already been” (but also usually still there or very close-by, to be honest), which is similar to the logic of going all the way around the world and coming back from the other side but perceived as far more risky even in the dream. I am not quite sure how it would be done, and do not recall dreams that revealed what happened to these people with alternate views.

Sometimes, the world is “safe” again, but mostly barren. Other times there is an uneasy feeling that the danger is growing in both directions and we may eventually reach where it is approaching from the opposite direction and be caught in the middle (which is often only related to fires). In one dream, with meteors, the large meteorites (all bigger than basketballs) rolled along the ground for a considerable distance, which of course would not happen in reality.

In some versions there is a weird notion of whether to run straight away or to go at some sort of angle, say forty-five degrees, due to “covering more distance”, which of course, in this case, is a ridiculous concept. Covering more distance does not equate to getting farther away in a continuous straight direction. You might as well run horizontal to the line of destruction using that logic, until it reaches you. This is similar to the idea of running in a zigzagging pattern to escape a tyrannosaurus in a few childhood dreams.

Morning of July 6, 1985. Saturday.



Probably one of the most unusual clearer dreams I have had involved thinking I had awakened (in a very vivid “realistic” false awakening), only to find myself in persistent sleep paralysis (where I believe I actually did open my eyes at times). A box of Kraft macaroni and cheese (single serving) danced around in the air, screaming “Eat me! Eat me!” in a rather high-pitched raspy voice and it was shaking about like a loud rattle in my ears and face.

I feel great discomfort yet also feel the mildly pleasant body-wide tingling. I try to cover my head but it does not work very well. It seems to torment me for several minutes. As I finally begin to wake more fully, I notice a smaller moving silver engraving (like a photographic negative) of a heron and a bittern dressed up like elderly gentlemen (though the birds incorrectly rendered as being around the same size), with one in a top hat and the other in a derby, and with canes and fancy shoes, in a position moving away from near my door (King Street boarding house - the L-shaped room), on a table. Although they are implied to be walking westward, the imagery mostly remains in one area, as if I am seeing it on some sort of implied projection (as if on an unseen television otherwise).

As soon as I woke up, I went into the kitchen and cooked and ate that last box of macaroni and cheese. (Well…what would you have done?) I was not “starving” but I had regularly been eating a lot less at the time. I do get a vague impression at one point that the birds may be coming back from “celebrating the Fourth of July” in a partial or subtle anthropomorphic manner.

I have finally decoded the macaroni and spaghetti symbolism, I believe. It relates directly to the energies of the human brain (as a bowl of cooked macaroni and cheese resembles the brain to some extent). The box (in its potential but not utilized form) was trying to get me to appreciate the nature of using my brain in my state of sleep paralysis and the two birds represented my conscious and subconscious finding freedom in “walking together”.

Morning of April 6, 1985. Saturday.



I am sitting in cool water with my knees up, the level of the clear water about six inches down from my knees, though it is not completely gone by the end of the waking stage. A very large number of very small green frogs are present. They hop around on my knees and shoulders, making little chirping sounds. I hold some of them carefully know and then as they leap around.

Although the location is unknown, there is a vague sense of bilocation with my King Street bed (in the L-shaped apartment) which I discern as being in its real-life location). Still, I also seem to be in an outdoor area in an actual large pond. No one else is around. There is a very intense feeling of happiness as well as relaxation. I very slowly become lucid but only just prior to waking. It is almost like taking a morning bath outside.

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Although this is a typical water induction (most common induction factor since early childhood), the frogs are possibly just incidental since I associate them with water. However, they would still be on the upper end of the dreaming stage, more so than a fish, which represents the downgrading of conscious self identity in being less active in being unconscious (asleep). This dream though, is very vivid, so the tiny frogs, which are very active, probably relate (in real time) to neuron activity and dawning awareness in coming out of sleep (whereas tadpoles and fish would be more relevant to the dynamics of the temporary dream self identity).

Water symbolizes sleep and the dynamics of sleep in real time. As such, a beach or shore of a lake (and similar locations) is the liminal space between sleep (water) and the more viable land or waking life beyond the beach. The clarity and depth of the water relate directly to circadian rhythm factors and real time sleep dynamics, something I was already aware of at age four from dreams such as “The Angler” (1965).

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Morning of April 3, 1985. Wednesday.



I am in an unfamiliar store that sells miscellaneous items. (I get the impression the cashier is oriented east of me). I am not fully sure what I am going to buy. There is an association with smaller paint-by-number kits (that come in sets of two paintings each) as well as bathroom supplies (such as shampoo).

The main focus is on puzzlement over my wallet and the money I have. It is not all actual money at first and eventually there is no “real” money in bills at all.

Instead of twenty-dollar bills (and other notes), which is what I thought I had more of, the cash is actually cut out comic strips of “The Wizard of Id” (that are slightly larger than normal). This of course is quite embarrassing but surely the “money” is not realistic enough to be associated with the idea that I am trying to use counterfeit money deliberately. There is no drama or eventual threat from anyone else based on my actions or possession of “funny money”. I mostly just search through my wallet without finding any “real” money and become quite puzzled. I believe there is also some Monopoly board game play money which has appeared in other dreams as such. I am trying to remember why I put all these cut out comic strips in my wallet or maybe I did it absentmindedly.

My sister carol always pronounced the “Id” in “The Wizard of Id” as rhyming with “ride” (as in being like the contraction for “I had”) though I always said it as rhyming with “rid”. This particular dream may be a reflection concerning the idea of id and ego (see “Why Freud Still Matters, When He Was Wrong About Almost Everything”) though more as being rendered comedic (as a comic strip) in hearing about and associating with such ideas.

I cannot presently recall a dream about wanting to buy something and seeing my paper money as it should actually be. I do not believe that having distorted paper money (often printed on only one side in dreams) is symbolic at all just as many things in dreams are clearly not symbolic but solely an artifact of the dreaming or waking process itself. It is not because of the unconscious mind being unable to render print or numbers or letters in a certain way either, as I have had numerous dreams with very realistic comic book pages (on both sides) and other printed materials.

Night of November 5, 1984. Monday. (To morning of November 6.)



As some of this one facet of a small part of my lifelong “story” involves hundreds of pages, I will include only basic information here, and a copy of Zsuzsanna’s journal page from when she was much younger and written long before we made real contact (though at the time of this dream). There are many more entries both already online and not yet posted anywhere that add hundreds more unexplainable layers that prove (for me) dreams are often a composite of precognition and remote viewing and there is absolutely no one that could convince me otherwise, especially twenty years on in a blissful, sensuous and spiritual marriage and with healthy children (though I do understand how there are deceitful people that, for whatever reason, are somehow against marriage and family and who sadly deny love itself - you the reader have likely seen it yourself many times - they are very good at pretending and creating fabricated drama).

There were earlier “prototypes” and precursors for this dream, and there were many that implied the eventual “battle” between Susan R and the “mystery girl”, this still being years before it was confirmed that hundreds of my childhood dreams implemented more precise precognition and remote viewing, which has turned out for me to be what dreams mainly are. The “mystery girl” dreams were all precognitive; they not only “introduced” me to my soulmate before she was born, they revealed every minute detail from the unlikely accent and cultural mix, to birthplace (exactly inverted to my birth place) from directly across the ocean (as shown in other entries).

Before the Blue Pearl (or “blue flame” or Merkaba) was more dominant in my perception, I saw it in Susan R. My first dream where I “ended up” with the “mystery girl” in an implied marriage would not be accepted as truth by most, due to it having elements of maturity for me at the age of eight (I am never in a mood to debate so I will not go into it). It was validated many times that Brenda W was the wife-to-be “stand-in”, which was validated again in 1991 just prior to real contact with my wife-to-be (and involving the “blue sun”).

My main castle dream implied a battle between Susan R and the “mystery girl” (who looked exactly like my wife-to-be in every way and with the same mixed heritage and same intriguing mixed Romani/Hungarian/Australian accent). The castle was implied to be beyond the area (at the end of the hanging bridge) where the “Bridge Over a Prehistoric World” dream took place - which started with watching Susan R (a transparent “blue egg” around her) leave me and ended with me hugging my wife-to-be archetype. The castle exists high in the sky, on a floating small hill, but only of partial land area, with plant roots hanging down from underneath. It seems to be “another realm” with a different “speed” of time (hard to explain). I get the clear impression that the castle stays only in areas where night exists.

The castle also has areas of temple-like rooms as well as oddly modern neon lights in some areas (almost like a discotheque). It is very vivid. Some lights are too bright to directly look at. I do look over the edge of the floating hill at one point, and see the view as if from an airplane flying very high; I see the lights of a larger city far below, barely perceptible at times. Susan R seems oddly upset at looking at her own reflection (though I eventually discover that is not what she is looking at in the mirror). She frustratingly yells “get out” at the mirror, which seems odd to me though reminds me strongly of the scene from “Fear No Evil”, first seen March 3, 1969.

My mental “connection” to Susan is broken (there were events prior to this which I do not recall). The “mystery girl”, wearing a black dress and a diamond necklace and some sort of unusual swept-back “crown”, emerges from the mirror, quite royal-looking, with glowing green catlike eyes and quite precise, sensual motions. I am amazed by her beauty. It is her. “Queen of the Gypsies”. Well, at least a dazzling princess. Orange-tinted skin. I even detect a trace of Aboriginal Australian.

From here, the two girls fight in an epic battle of screeching voices and incredibly intense and eerie screeching wind. They are arguing about me, my purpose, my birth, where I should live, and who I “belong to”. I believe the “mystery girl” is “screeching” and “whistling” the loudest and affirming that I am hers. It is very strange to hear this - like the wind itself “arguing” with itself, like lightning bolts “wriggling” against each other, like clouds trying to “strangle” each other. The Merkaba appears to be spinning out of control for a time sort of knocking into each girl’s silhouette for a time. The voices reach a point where they are not human-sounding at all in any way.

One of them falls to the ground far below, eventually, but I am not sure who; I only see her silhouette falling, back first with arms out. I think I have had enough commotion, so I turn to leave…almost finding my way out before someone behind me asks “Where are you going? You cannot go alone”. I am not alarmed but I do not see her directly. I only see her shadow on the wall. I wake.

This “battle” and long-term outcome (as some already know) could not have taken place solely within my own dreams, but could only have happened in a collective sense (in the supraconscious perhaps) or “another plane” of reality. There have been a number of dreams where I eventually was absolutely sure of this and there is not the slightest evidence to the contrary. What is also interesting is that my wife also loosely describes the Barbara Steele movie I was fascinated by as a young child and it remains a favorite movie (1964’s “Danse Macabre” aka “Castle of Blood” aka “Castle of Terror”) yet she had never heard of it or seen it. In a way, this dream is actually a “replay” of some aspects of it.

There were other dreams involving Susan R and the “mystery girl” (wife-to-be) within the same setting or relative to one event or another. I do not know the dynamics behind this, as I had never contacted Susan after high school. (In fact, she is the only one I have never been able to contact or find out more about out of all my classmates through all school years. I did hear she was married, though. Another girl with her same full name, unrelated I believe, married someone with my name - and my surname is not very common at all.)

My wife Zsuzsanna’s older poem from her teenage years follows in text - which implies another layer of reality and which matches my dream above as well as being from the same time period (do not forget the thousands of other facts that confirmed the “mystery girl’s” identity many years before I met her).

A castle on the hill

gleaming lights and flights of stairs

running through the corridors

looking for the door

it’s a mystery where are you going

you cannot go alone

for there is something eerie

watching the lights fade away

then all I heard was a shout

a voice pleading to get out

it’s a mystery where will I go

I cannot go alone

A mystery in the castle

A mystery of neon lights

A mystery of you and me

A mystery the facts of love

Night of September 23, 1984. Sunday.



Of all the continuous unexplained events throughout my life, this is perhaps one of the strangest, as well as “deepest” relative to clear memory - in that there is no doubt of my experience and perspective at the time, no matter how “impossible” it seems.

The basic nature of this event is as follows…I had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room on Loomis Street. My brother-in-law Bob was set to watch “Hardcastle and McCormick” (the first episode of the second season, “Outlaw Champion” - neither of us had seen the episode before). I was falling asleep at the time he was maneuvering to the correct channel. In my dream state, I heard the entire dialogue and sound of the show for the hour that seemingly followed, including the commercials. It did not stop there, though. The episode repeated in its entirety and was starting to get monotonous as I had already heard it (and seen parts of it seemingly through half-closed eyes). When the episode came on again for the third time, I was extremely frustrated and wondered what was going on. I was in an odd state of consciousness, with a clearer sense of false awakenings than usual. I was certain that three hours had passed and that it was near ten o'clock.

At some points, there were distortions. One distortion was that the name of the show became “Hardcastle and Rock”. In fact, this distortion was so dominating, I actually misremembered this is the “real” name a few years later and even wrote it as such in much later journal references (without looking back on older entries - bear in mind that much of my dream journal and dream work is now on larger-capacity flash drives with fully searchable terms and references, going back to when I was born).

During this extraordinarily boring time of “seeing” (or at least hearing) the same episode three times in a row there were unusual distortions where lucid dream states seemed to “interfere” with the continuity, but oddly, it continued correctly when “going back” rather than having a gap in what I was hearing. The main lucid dreams, which were more vivid than usual, were of being in the small yard at the front of the house and seeing the shadowy silhouette of the “mystery girl”, seemingly a teenager, standing closer to the left side of the front of the house. There is seeming mental contact and a “knowledge” that I will be with her within about ten years or so. This seems too long to wait, especially with this television show repeating over and over. She seems tentative, a bit shy to approach me, and remains about six feet away in the semidarkness of the evening (it seems much later at night in my dream than it actually is in reality, and again, it seemed that about three hours had passed in the final section of this dream scenario). Typically in dreams of this extreme lucidity, I “play with” my own shadow for a time (which I believe is the wakeful conscious mind as seen by my dream self), though this time the shadow is actually the female and I do not see her as “me” at all (though perhaps the “missing part” of me), thus I do not indulge in the shadow play. I am fully aware of her being a separate consciousness somehow and the form of “true love”.

I eventually start to silently question why in the world my brother-in-law would watch the show three times in a row (instead of more logically thinking about the extreme unlikelihood of why they would air it three times in a row in the first place).

When I eventually wake…the show is only just starting in reality, still showing the opening - so I hear (and this time see more of) the show for the fourth time - with more conscious focus. I had a hard time trying to work out how this had happened, especially as I had already (and correctly) seen it three times in my dream state. I was not really disoriented, just slightly annoyed at yet again experiencing something no one would believe, otherwise the very “normal” (and unproblematic) day to day nature of my lifetime since birth. I get an idea relating to other entities “tampering” with time, which may or may not directly relate to the “mystery girl”. Still, I shortly disregard it as something not that unusual (at least for me).

As I had, to my knowledge, only experienced this more lucid “looping” effect once in my life in this particular way, it seems like a rare potential. However, in all honesty, it is not really all that different from the typical precognitive/remote viewing hybrids experienced all the time, other than that there was more clarity and focus (especially in audio), and for a seeming extended time period (far longer than usual, when, however, it could not have been more than a couple minutes even though my dream’s fully in-body sections with the “mystery girl” seemed to be about twenty minutes long, as well as including the “three hours” of the repeating show). With all the other virtually endless precognitive and remote viewing experiences, there was never the residual sense of literally “repeating time” as with this event (typical “repeating” or “reset” dreams did not share this awareness at all, for some reason).

This also matches my wife’s experiences to some extent in seeking “the one who was meant for her” especially as the “mystery girl” was exactly like her in every way, including being the correct age for this particular dream (even the unlikely ethnicity combination and accent). She wrote to me in real life in 1991 at the same address as this dream occurred.

There are additional strange coincidences too personal to relate here.

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Night of April 27, 1984. Friday.



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

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

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See also: The Beam (warning against alcohol?)

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Morning of April 9, 1984. Monday.



I was in bed, listening to The Alan Parsons Project’s “Tales of Mystery and Imagination: Edgar Allan Poe”. I imagined the imagery and detail. It was one of my favorite cassettes of the time, along with their “I Robot” album.

In one vivid dream of the “mystery girl”, the petite Persian Hungarian gypsy girl from Australia (with a curious mixed accent) with the beautiful green eyes and dark curly hair, there is a storm coming; a large tornado. This, for whatever reason, does not concern me all that much.

As the tornado gets closer, I do feel a slight wariness. The tornado is the lower half of the Merkaba in dreams, and at other levels, is the unknown future or “destiny” if you will. On another level it is the energies of the supraconscious (Universal Mind) in connecting with other levels of consciousness as perceived by the conscious mind; that is, other “realms” of mind and supraconscious exchanging energies as a new force as with a cold front meeting a warm front in causing wind and stormy weather. As I am at least partly lucid, I am not worried about being killed. Once I step into the tornado I see a beautiful young girl and recognize her as my “dream girl”. She leans back on a bed and as I approach her (in this case, I somehow see myself approaching her) there is a sense of wholeness. It is almost as if I rose above the tornado and looked down into it, where everything was clear and blue, a circular portal; an image of fulfillment.

In a dream within a dream, I am seemingly Edgar Allan Poe in a way. My dream journals are so extensive that I have indexes within indexes, often copied to new journals with additional important observations and notes added. A raven wants to be fed stale undercooked hamburger, which it seems to like more than bologna or canned fish. I seem to receive a very important “warning” related to not allowing “ordinary” people to influence me in any way and not allow them to “interpret” not only my dreams, but even ideas I develop over time out of life experiences. I sensed an unusual idea that other people one day, around the world, would see a small part of my childhood dream work as well as other writing. Of course, this seemed like a preposterous idea. How could one just “show their dreams on television for others to watch” whenever they felt like it? Perhaps the advancements of computers could achieve this? Likely far too expensive for the average person to ever be feasible…

One person said that the tornado was related to my “mental turmoil” (though I had less “turmoil” than others I knew) over my pretense that I would be married to a beautiful girl and have children within ten years or so. The raven was perhaps a burden, it was claimed, a “shadowy presence” representing despair, “a shadow hanging over me”. However, in my dreams, my two youngest “fictional” children learn from the raven, which speaks to them of the patterns of life and nature. I supposed other people would have been happy over me never marrying who I considered the most beautiful girl on Earth in another country. People in general have mostly only “cop outs” to share, “cop outs” which never have any value, except in learning and knowing what not to do or what not to believe from others or society as a whole.

Years later, in real life, after I married my dream girl, “our” raven sat on my chair watching me type on my computer. My two healthy and loving children enjoyed having a raven in the house for a few weeks until I decided it was fully healed (from a non-fatal dog attack) enough to fly on its own. It still came back and said “hi” now and then…but there was one time at the computer, when I reached behind me to give it a piece of raw stale hamburger and gave it a pat that I thought of the potential for the majority of “ordinary” human beings to ever accept the truth…or in fact, have any credibility at all. I almost thought I heard the raven quote (deep in the recesses of my mind) “nevermore”.

Morning of April 7, 1984. Saturday.



A female classmate and neighbor (and validated precognitive wife-to-be “stand-in” or resolved personal archetype) who is slightly younger than me, Brenda W, is trying to resurrect her dead pet ferret by placing various old silver coins, including foreign coins, in the ground near trees (including between extensions of roots). It actually seems to work and she is happy. I see her near a shopfront late at night and she acknowledges me happily. This is set possibly in Milwaukee, Wisconsin even though I knew her to only live in Florida. No one else seems to be around in most scenes except perhaps in the background. The storefront seems to be easterly of my dream-self’s perspective. As a somewhat vaguely implied back story scene, a local preacher (possibly Connell of Florida) talks about the Resurrection of Jesus, which Brenda is supposed to widely promote in a special “travel brochure”(?) which also relates to some sort of ambiguous business that loosely reminds me of the lemonade-stand-like psychiatrist booth run by Lucy in the “Peanuts” comic strip. Something goes wrong with the machine (which seems to be in or near a grocery store checkout) and instead of printing “The Resurrection of Jesus”, it prints “The Erection of Sausages” which Brenda laughs at hysterically.

Update June 20, 2015: After all this time, I see it is likely a play on “hot dog stand” regarding the primary school Adam and Eve gag. (”Eve, in being the first vendor, made Adam’s Hot Dog Stand”.) As much meticulous dream journalism as I had done continuously since early childhood, some fairly obvious layers, explanations (hidden meanings), and metaphorical plays did not become clearer until years later, even after studying the content numerous times.

In an old recurring childhood theme I have written much on even as a young child (and in fact even atypically acted out with friends at school who unfortunately changed the theme into being zombie-related, albeit creatively), in the first (prototype) dream, “The Dead One”, Brenda W seemed to have been resurrected into a normal life again, but ran from me in the city streets and remained unapproachable. There was also the “Wild Weasel” dream - but which was seemingly resolved to be a Tasmanian devil in the final versions. I believe there is a connection to my general unexplained path concerning the “mystery girl”. This dream seems to be some sort of offbeat comedic composite of both childhood dreams. The ferret likely represents the maturing male stage in this case (with a possible link to the emerging cicada nymph concept regarding my marriage, as my wife collected cicada shells as a child and made miniature cemeteries complete with miniature wooden crosses, not knowing yet that they were only exoskeletons - also impersonally related to “seven-year-itch” and “seven-year-locust”, including the business cycle meaning - terms I have only heard and do not “get” at all - but then, most of mainstream humanity and their beliefs make no sense to me). It is not quite anniversary precognition, as it is off by a couple days concerning my marriage ten years later (though apparently there was a version on the ninth, though not as clear).

Morning of February 8, 1984. Wednesday.



I seem to be in an unknown or at least unrecognizable area at a motel. It may be in Wisconsin (where I am living in real life) or possibly in a larger city in Florida. The area seems completely deserted other than with my presence. The motel and its larger rooms seem oriented to the south. I get the impression I am a different “character”. I may have a job to do involving a revolver which is apparently in a drawer in one of the motel rooms. I do not seem to be certain which room it is at first but eventually find it.

This is somehow, but indirectly, connected to another dream section set in a different time, or perhaps it only seems that way. At any rate, it is like an old-fashioned western town. There is a younger girl walking around who may be either Effie Elmer or Betty Jane W (but probably based on Jenny C). Since my dream was recurring, there were different associations. I am lying on my side in the middle of a dirt road, possibly injured relative to my dream’s “back story” though I do not feel hurt. It is the dirt road through this old western town (which resembles Dodge City on the television series “Gunsmoke”). Although the first setting was seemingly deserted and somehow even isolated, this town has activity. I only see the legs and feet of the girl in my partial view of looking under a horse and buggy towards the wooden sidewalk. No one seems to notice me or at least directly regard my presence there on the ground.

Oddly, when the girl turns to walk in the opposite direction that the horse and buggy is going, she vanishes completely, as the area otherwise blocked by the buggy is then revealed. No one is there. This happens several times in “resets”. Perhaps she is a phantom.

I am not sure what my role is in either scenario; the apparently modern motel, or the old western town. Perhaps I am there to warn someone or even to shoot someone, but there is no stronger emotion for the most part. Feet and lower legs are all that is ever seen of the possibly unknown girl. She appears to be wearing old-fashioned shoes with buckles. My dream does not seem to have an intentional “plot” of any kind; it just presents the two scenes.

Morning of October 5, 1983. Wednesday.



In my dream, I am watching the news in my L-shaped room at the end of the hall (and to the right) in the King Street boarding house. The television is in a similar location as it is in real life - in about the middle of the longest rectangular area (but is color instead of black and white), but turned perpendicularly towards the east where I am apparently seated or in bed. I am not that aware, but I am focused on the imagery and sound of the television news report.

Over time, I become more and more clear on where I am and what I am seeing within my dream. The man on television is about thirty and wearing a necktie of mostly blue and orange. In real life, the sustained buzzing of my alarm clock had started. This causes my dream to take on a rather bizarre change. The man I am watching on the television starts grabbing at his neck immediately as he is saying “and they are going to…mahhhhhh” - his voice warping flawlessly into the alarm clock sound (the implied word seeming to be “make”, yet only the m is human-like). The buzzing alarm clock sound is coming from his open mouth and he is desperately trying to loosen his tie, continuing to clutch at his throat as it buzzes, with his visage being more and more horrified. After a fairly short time, I am aware that I am coming out of my dream state.

This is a very good example of a dream that is apparently completely lacking in meaning or foresight (at least at one level - I did not document all the nuances of the in-dream news report) and suddenly truncated (or “interrupted”, assuming my dream was “going anywhere” in plot) by a real-life event, in this case, real-life audio - as in probably about equally occurring contrast to in-dream precognition or foreshadowing that somehow builds up to align with a real and unexpected sound not yet present while sleeping. In those cases, some people make the mistake of assuming the sound may have caused the dream’s outcome. However, in some cases, the dream was already seemingly building up to the not yet occurring sound (again, unlike in the case of this entry where my dream was unexpectedly “destroyed” by the intrusive sound) - thus a form of obvious real-time precognition in the other dream type I have never read about elsewhere. I have experienced it myself fairly often.