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From January 15, 1964. Wednesday.



This is an old recurring dream from around ages three to four.

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I am in a large old house with two floors and a large staircase. Some of the design is based on mahogany constructs or veneer at least. There is a familiar smell, somewhat like cinnamon at times, but later, a lot like that seemingly old but strong unusual wood scent (and for me, very nostalgic) that I used to smell when walking by certain old apartment buildings that had a wooden staircase and with an entrance door open to the public at street level. I only know of two locations in real life where I had caught that special scent in such a perfect way - one of them being the Rose Street apartments - which no longer exist, the other being in an area I only walked by a few times in another part of town.

The house is possibly partly based on Evelyn W’s house in real life (on Tenth Street in La Crosse) which was a place I visited as a young child and picked out “Little Red Feather” (which I have included details about in other entries) to keep, as I was given a choice to take one of the toys inside the large “toy box” (actually a large laundry basket) as my own and I chose a red plastic Native American figure in a kneeling position. I should point out that my wife Zsuzsanna had an imaginary friend called “Little Red Feather” (also as a child) long before we met, which is of course, only one of hundreds of very precise and incredible meaningful “coincidences”.

In my dream, an unknown dark-haired and green-eyed lady comes to the house to give me a toy steam shovel. I am not sure why; I do not think it is for my birthday or for Christmas.

Not much happens in my dream, though there is somewhat of a sense of being isolated at times. I sense the woman is “for” me but I will have to grow up and wait a long time before we meet (and she does not remind me at all of my mother in my dream, who I never saw at this younger age anyway). I remember standing around in the semidarkness at one point, wondering when she would return.

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It seems my wife-to-be (who was not even born yet) is somehow already in my path (or at least the detailed essence as such). There was no question on the appearance. She gave me the steam shovel “to dig or build my path to her”.

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 November 3, 1973. Saturday.



This is a long dream that started prior to real-life sunrise, continuing a short time after real-life sunrise, the carport (north through my bedroom windows) being fully illuminated as I woke up with the “I’ll just wake up now” resolved liminal state. As is often the case (recurring dream property, especially from 1969 to 1973), the eerie or threatening aspects of my dream break down or transform and become more mundane as the sun rises in real life - this can be seen in some of my other dreams, including several where bones become branches or picnic forks or a vampire bat becomes a non-threatening moth, etc.

In the first part of my dream, I am aware that it is Halloween night, except for the fact that November second is usually “Halloween” in my dream universe. This is due to a strong influence from the Barbara Steele movie “Castle of Blood” (from 1964). November second was always the “night of the dead” for me, which was actually more dominant than cultural associations with “ordinary” Halloween, though I still “saw” it (and accepted it) as the “real” Halloween.

Act One:

The first part of my dream reveals that a few classmates had been to my house in Cubitis; I assume mainly Tina L, Brenda W, Toby T, and Steve J. I seem to be the only one directly in-dream until near the end, though. The very large antique wooden dining table in the living room, along the middle area of the east side of the house and near the windows in usual view of the backyard (but the curtains are mostly down in-dream) has three areas that display several small skulls made of hard candy, mostly on the left side of the table to my perspective, some on a transparent glass plate of fancy spiral relief patterns, some not. The three sets are of slightly different sizes. Many are of the glow-in-the-dark pale green as of the color of cereal prizes that glow in the dark. A few others are in different pale colors such as Pepto-Bismol pink (recurring dominant color), a pale violet, and a pale yellow - none are white. In the back of my mind is the idea that some of them may be poisonous. I am not sure why people would put poisonous candy on the table (and I am hoping more friends or classmates do not come in and eat them unknowingly), but I get two other associations, one being cough drops in the shape of skulls, the other being skull-shaped vitamins. Therefore, each set of skulls is either candy, cough drops, or vitamins, with perhaps a few poisonous ones in each. I am wary of them all, though, and do not touch any of them.

Act Two:

I go into the hallway with the intent of, I think, going to the bathroom, though I do not recall an actual need to. It may just be a random in-dream wandering. Suddenly, a large hairy bat flies down from the back door area near the ceiling and its face is so close upon reaching me, it would have logically hit my face - but instead - suddenly vanishes. This is rather puzzling. The bat had a grinning gargoyle-like face, almost smiling at me.

Act Three:

As it grows closer to sunrise, I hear dogs barking and snarling. Normally, I am wary of going onto the carport at night (or even early morning) in dreams, but not always. I open the front door and the barking is actually right in the carport. I see several dogs right there just past the doorway and immediately close the door. The dogs continue to bark and growl. After the sun rises, I open the door and Toby T is there and holding a large poster, but beginning to roll it up top to bottom (and which had been completely covering the other side of the doorway) showing dogs in various aggressive positions (a couple of them apparently leaping up towards the viewer), which is exactly what I had seen before. He explains that the sound of the dogs was from a cassette playing on the table on the carport. Thus, what I saw when I opened the door was only the poster. I am somewhat relieved and it was all in good fun, I suppose. I am also aware that the bat, which was fake, was what I myself had set up and forgotten about, triggered by my movement into the hallway and pulling a string with my lower leg, which caused it to fly down from a setup at the end of the hallway.

Act one blends several associations, including the idea that sugar is “bad” for you, and so can vitamins if you take too many (especially, as I understand it - vitamin A, which has the highest toxicity if taken too often). On another note, I never really liked hard candy, which often tasted really bad to me and I could not understand how other people liked it or could even suck on it - horrid fake “cola” or “root beer” taste, fake horrid “citrus” and so on, that also make me cough just having it in my mouth and reminded me of sucking on the opening of a bottle of perfume (though admittedly I had never done that) and sometimes had an overwhelming soap-like taste. The cough drop aspect featured also brings to mind when a teacher at school gave me “candy”, which turned out to be an old cough drop - something I never confronted her on - just thought it was strange. It seemed to also be “warning” me about taking too much Pepto-Bismol, which I did not find out about in real life until much later.

Act two mostly used the association with the opening of the original “Scooby Doo” television series where animated bats fly at the viewer. I also had a toy/fake rubber bat on a string which I ended setting up as in my dream for a bit of amusement.

Act three shows my wariness and fear of dogs in dreams (curiously, which did not reflect real life to any degree) finally beginning to subside a bit as well as showing potential in-dream manipulation - that is, two-dimensional concepts made from what first seemed three-dimensional (the opposite of photo projection), thus a background latent ability to warp dimensions and planes of portals in-dream, almost in the manner of an implied hypercube. This recognition is delivered by my best friend. Toby T was somewhat like a “mirror” more representative of everyman, yet was not really like me at all at higher levels.

Steve J represents conditional love or conditional friendship, almost in an incidental way, due to a childhood “I’ll be your friend if…” or “I’ll continue to be your friend only if…” mentality. Tina L represents a combination of absentminded humorous outlook and incidental or faux snobbery. Her last name was also a play on “linear” (with only the relative accent slightly different in each); that is, a logical western progression in contrast to Brenda W’s (who was the main archetype for my wife-to-be) more “gypsy-like” or “Wendy the Good Little Witch” (but brunette, not blonde) magical persona.

This was a DDR dream I really enjoyed. The MITD (“monster in the doorway” waking transition, which is analogous as the emergent consciousness event) in the “final act” was rendered as just a poster of barking dogs that Toby had put up over the doorway to fool me (with a cassette of barking playing on a table in our carport). Everything was resolved to be part of a practical joke being setup by classmates.

Morning of October 6, 1973. Saturday.



I am fairly certain that there are older versions of this dream but at any rate, it holds a sort of unusual “nostalgia” yet also rather distant, but clearly “fixed” in the “background noise” of my memory. October 6th, 1973 (had missed a couple days of school during the week before this Saturday - flu). I am still in fourth or fifth grade in my dream, yet somehow back in La Crosse, it seems, or some sort of strange composite of La Crosse and Arcadia (Wisconsin and Florida). It is late fall as in reality for the most part. (There is a false memory in my dream that I had the lizard as a pet when much younger while living in Wisconsin. I only had it in Florida when almost a teen.)

I am focused on one thing - trying to recover my lost pet draco volans. The flying lizard could have “flown” off like a bird, perhaps, but I am not fully focused (they cannot actually fly upwards like a bird). It would seem impossible to look under every leaf, of which there are thousands. The streets are mostly deserted. I get the impression it may have somehow been attracted to a fake gumball machine version north of where I am mostly exploring. I do get there, but there is no sign of life of any kind, really. I am only vaguely concerned about missing more school (though my dream was not actually on a school day as implied within my dream. By a strange coincidence, researching a bit more meticulously, I learned that there were eighty-six days left in the year from this date. “Eighty-six” means “getting rid of something”).

There is very mild confusion regarding one of those Chinese fortune-telling fish that can curl up in your hand. I pick it up from near the curb and mourn for Draco. This is not my pet, though. My pet is a live lizard. It barely lasted a week in reality before somehow vanishing into…where? What would a draco lizard think of a Chinese fortune-telling fish? I am alone in my thoughts. I do not even see any cars going about on the streets. I walk by a laundromat. At least one dryer is going but there are no people in there, either. I do not really feel anything threatening about this absence of people in the main part of town.

My flying dragon will probably not return and I am close to accepting this and putting it behind me.

There may be a very loose connection between this and seeing myself as a “prehistoric chameleon” (Florida chameleon - they often came into the house in real life as the larger geckos do where we live now) embedded in a rock (as some sort of fossil) - with a sort of mossy and olive color, which was at the end of a dream where there had been an explosion on the sun - that part of my dream also reflected a strange sort of nostalgia as it flowed into a vivid hypnopompic state.

Morning of September 16, 1973. Sunday.



This is, I believe, one of the first versions of a rather interesting dream when twelve years of age.

The first section involves a legend of a Martian “time barrier”. I believe that much of this particular dream possibly takes place in the 1800s in perhaps Arizona (perhaps the 1860s-1870s) or more likely Nevada, where they had done nuclear testing later on. It almost has a television western feel at the beginning, like an episode of “Gunsmoke” with science-fiction characteristics. There is an area about the land (near an old fence) where time moves much faster than the areas around it. I watch a very vivid scene of a couple cowboys riding through the desert-like area. One of the men is on a horse, another on a mule. The man on the mule unknowingly rides through the “barrier” and begins to age rapidly as he is riding. He slumps over and the mule also ages rapidly and they fall to the ground and turn into dust, but the other man is not affected at all even though he was not that far from the other man’s left side.

This is relative to some sort of quest or hunt for gold. There are other men in the region, mostly outlaws. The Martian coffin is found out in the open in one area and the coffin seems to be where the more-detailed map to the gold (and possibly other treasures) is. It seems to be simultaneously located in the living room of my Cubitis home at one point (with the coffin aligned north to south, head to the north). The Martian appears to be dead and seems to have diamonds for eyes. It is mostly human-like in form but green and with lizard characteristics. The main character of the scenario looks into the coffin and screams and runs off. It seems the story goes that the Martian is still alive or in some sort of suspended animation where he can still cause harm to anyone in the area if you get close enough. The man is very afraid and runs away, waving his arms, and forgetting about the gold, and (absentmindedly) ending up in the most dangerous area and soon becoming a pile of dust.

I look down at the Martian’s face and see what first looks like eyes moving. I then realize that the diamond-like eyes are only reflecting my eyes. There is a strange mood at this point as all the other men are running off, as it plays out like some sort of clever twist O. Henry ending. This is the only part of my dream I seem to be directly “in”.

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The unusual idea of the dream’s outside primarily unfamiliar setting somehow at the same time being in my Cubitis living room is a fairly common distortion in some dream types.

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The presumed Martian corpse is a subliminal distorted perception of my sleeping body. Note how it was originally documented “I look down at the Martian’s face and see what first looks like eyes moving (note that this is in reference to the side to side motion of the eyes as well as perceived blinking). I then realize that the diamond-like eyes are only reflecting my eyes.” This is an obvious subliminal recognition of REM sleep.

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Morning of September 15, 1973. Saturday.

Dream #: 2,462-02. Reading time: 40 sec.



I am in the living room in Cubitis, at the table in the center of the room. My mother is sitting on the north end, typing a letter to an older relative. My father is working on wall paneling.

A bowl of cereal (with milk) somehow quickly comes down from the ceiling (or through it somehow, although there is no sign of a hole or “portal”). It falls and spills over the tiled floor. My mother expresses annoyance over the disruption of her writing by the inexplicable event. She seems to momentarily but silently blame me. I am also surprised and cannot understand how it happened. It appeared to be falling “from nowhere,” as if in mid-fall just below the ceiling.

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Following are scenes (where I am incorporeal) of moving through several doorways in the ceiling of our house. It seems mazelike. (This is imaginary, as our real ceiling space was not high enough to stand upright. There were no doorways, either.)

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dream type: something coming down

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Morning of September 13, 1973. Thursday.



I first dreamt of the fictional animal - the “cataroo” (long before the Internet and the potential to see that others had thought of it) at this time. In this case, it has the upper half of a cat and the bottom half of a miniature kangaroo (as it is cat-sized here). It has a very special vindication for me, personally. In this first dream of the “cataroo”, it was in a wicker cat cage with a rounded top, the cage facing west, while in the northeast area of the living room, which remains semi-dark throughout my dream - the small carrying cage itself and its precise appearance as in my dream being something that I had never seen or heard of. This was very precise precognition many years ahead, as my wife had one exactly like it when we got together many years later. Also as in my dream, the door broke off eventually.

The cage was, again, visually exact relative to my more distant future and marriage, but the rest of the precognition was a composite of other factors and facets as it often is - my wife was breeding cats at the time I went to her, and she lived in Australia (thus the cat-kangaroo mix), which I had no real-life association with at all as a boy. This is why I have always firstly looked at dreams as a literal combination of past, present, and future (even distant future) and not symbolic in an obscure or totally unrelated sense that so-called dream dictionaries try to promote.

On a lesser note, this night was the first episode of the second season of “The Waltons” television series (the episode “The Journey”, where there is some unusually complex synchronicity, one facet relating to the December 20, 1960 comic strip “Henry”). This is only relative in that the “mystery girl” or “imaginary girlfriend” and I were intimate when it was on in my dream and with Roosevelt I making a gag of the “watching the Waltons while making love” scenario in real-life. Coincidentally (or yet more subtle precognition), a similar gag was used on an actual (sitcom I think) television show a short time later, but I cannot presently recall the name.

Morning of August 19, 1973. Sunday.



I look over the edge of my bed and see a book called “The Elite Kingdom” by Jaylene DeKish. It is a novel (possibly nonfiction) about hairless rats taking the place of people. At the time, I had never heard the name Jaylene and there are no people named “DeKish” as far as I know. There were Google matches for “De Kish”.

There are eerie scenes, also, of glowing hairless pink rats (seemingly not Pepto-Bismol-colored as was recurring) from radiation? - near my bed, mostly along the floor at the side of the bed to the north - and some concern about them being in my bed for a time. In my dream, my bed is near the center of the room where it never was in real life. There is no terror or fear of any kind, though. Certain thoughts regarding the rats seem to last almost all night but not fully into the morning.

For some reason, the word “smek” comes to mind at one point. This almost seems to mean “small mice elite kingdom”, but is actually a sound representation I had seen in comic magazines, for when someone slaps someone.

Morning of August 18, 1973. Saturday.



I was in what seemed to be some sort of combination of a small library (for students) and a teacher’s office. At one point, it even seems there is an adjoining laundry. There are at least three overcrowded aquariums. The small, rectangular aquariums are each filled with about five or six small or “baby” electric eels and minimal seaweed around the sides. They appear somewhat menacing and are probably annoyed by having little or no space to move around in. I am not sure why they are in the room, as it seems rather an obstacle to a more comfortable reading environment. There also seems to be a possibility of two or more somehow getting into the washing machines in the adjoining room. There seems to be no direct threat at the time. The “electric eels” in this dream were more like small black snakes, with a spinal protrusion or front-to-back fin like a serrated saw blade. People at the time gave warnings about “electric eels” in El Jobean (Florida), but they apparently did not know what they were talking about, as they supposedly only live in freshwater (not brine) and in South America. However, someone my father knew, after this dream, did require medical attention from an encounter with an eel while fishing at El Jobean (or it could have been a type of catfish - people, especially tourists, sometimes got them confused).

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I believe the imagery of this idea that formed a facet of my dream may have originally came from an issue of Mad or Cracked Magazine (possibly from a less significant part of a larger drawing of a differently-themed article) but I do not presently have the reference.

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Morning of July 20, 1973. Friday.



I am seemingly somewhat “disembodied” but still aware of being above my bed, looking downwards, perhaps hovering (it is aligned north to south in the southwest corner of my room). For quite some time, nearly a half an hour perhaps, I had been listening to the sound of my mother’s typewriter. For some reason, even though my bedroom door is closed, it sounds rather loud and close to my ears. I seem to fade in and out of this dream several times, still being aware of the typewriter sound, but it is not all that annoying as there are points where it is almost “reassuring” somehow.

Eventually, I see the typewriter on my bed (while still hovering above, seemingly disembodied or in my “orb” form) and invisible hands start to type. As this happens, I hear the opening music to Sandra Gould’s 45 “Hello Melvin (This Is Mama)” from August 1963 (which I had in real life and listened to fairly often at one time). There is no comedic singing or talking, just the music as on the record and with light typewriter clacking, which actually seems more and more reassuring and even soothing as it continues. The typewriter clacking even seems to match some of the musical aspects (mainly the four-note main phrasing) with three-note “answer” clacks after each phrasing (somewhat like a “cha cha cha” element). It seems to go on for several minutes.

Coincidentally, Sandra Gould (who was also one of the actresses who played Gladys Kravitz on the television series “Bewitched”) was born the same month and year of my mother (but nine days later) - July of 1916 - and also died on this date (July 20) in 1999.

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 July 1, 1973. Sunday.



I find myself peacefully moving through a beautiful marshy area (which I think I chose to “step into” during the slowdown of the hypnagogic state). (Water induction.) Over time, my dream’s original setting is slowly integrated with the West Elementary School’s school grounds (where there were no marshy features and where I am no longer a student in reality). (Critical thinking skills cessation). My dream self is presumed corporeal at times and incorporeal or intangible at other times.

A giant American bittern (composite of premonitory back spasm symbol and anticipatory consciousness shift symbol) is eventually known of (with no discernible backstory) and seen to be present. The bird is about as big as a horse. Mostly while incorporeal, I watch this giant bird stalk a few schoolmates (individually) but there is no attack. Curiously, my schoolmates are seemingly not aware of it even when it is in full view just outside the perimeter of the giant reeds. I do not communicate with my schoolmates at any point. I notice that the marsh features, such as the tall grass, are to the scale of the giant bittern rather than in correct proportion to the school building, school grounds, and banyan tree in the playground.

The giant bittern does not stalk or even focus on me at any time prior to my waking, and in fact becomes more distant in the final moments. The school grounds become less marshy throughout. (Water lowering as dream cessation metaphor.)

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The lower back spasm waking event was hardly noticeable. It appears that I had a certain level of subliminal control over the metaphorical waking transition and my lower back muscles, as I was not directly jabbed by the bird’s beak (as the waking prompt) as I had vaguely anticipated. There was no point where I was actively lucid. The bittern association came from a pocket book field guide to North American birds, which I had since I was very young.

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Morning of June 3, 1973. Sunday.



I am with an unknown attractive girl (about my age) in a car (in some dreams such as this, I was “already” in a car, but it was very rare for me to fit in a car when wanting to drive it or to get into it, or a taxi, etc. It sometimes even eventually turned into a shoe). We are trying to engage in romance, but the car is going in a circle and making us annoyed, as we really want to leave the old dusty (and mostly featureless) warehouse we are in and go elsewhere, primarily to a meadow or perhaps to the top of a hill. A very tall insect-like “human” (with reptile nuances) with spider-web-like eyes (and very small pupils and irises) is making the car go in a circle with some sort of mind control on his part as he waves his hand somewhat like a puppet-master (with the implied otherwise invisible “strands” that control the car). The “demon” reminds me much of a cartoon monster from a Marvel comic book - it seems of the same overall design. Part of this is also probably a play on “sex drive” when I heard it with negative connotations at a prior date.

As it was fairly common for negative energies to stop romantic potential during some earlier dream trends, thus I soon began to see people who associated sexuality - especially relative to dream content - with anything “wrong” or “dirty” (other than a realistic natural caution in real life, of course, but anything is possible in dreams, including total sexual freedom) as completely wrong or simply ignorant - as those were the only types of characters that were non-involving as such or even completely ignorant of feminine anatomy (sometimes, though, in real life, they would tell jokes that proved they did not know anything about feminine anatomy - it was pretty strange being around such people - I could not laugh at an idiotic “wrong” joke that made no sense and so ironically was seen as less worldly even though I was more worldly at that age).

I think it is very important to note here that it was a “dream demon” who was stopping us from our romantic scenario, not trying to instigate it or encourage us. Interesting, yes? And what do you think that implies? I think it relates to being wrongfully influenced mentally (about physical contact, especially in a personal dream) by mainstream mythology concerning religion. As the car is going in circles it may also relate to circular logic in false religious arguments.

Morning of May 20, 1973. Sunday.



I am in the Cubitis living room seemingly late at night. I am aware that there may be someone on the carport. Unlike a number of other dreams, I am not wary about answering the door this late at night.

Going near the door, it seems to open on its own. Looking out into the semidarkness, I see an unusual man who looks more like an artificial form, somewhat cartoon-like but also like a statue. He is holding some sort of lantern with his right hand, at about head level. To his left is an unusual unmoving dog, also which looks like a statue or artificial structure of some kind. I continue to gaze at the sight, the forms not moving but holding a comedic essence.

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When I went to Disney World later on in real life, taken by my sister Marilyn and her husband, a completely unexpected event, imagine my surprise when we went on the Haunted Mansion ride and this imagery was identical to what was seen on part of the ride. I had certainly never seen it before (other than in my dream) and I had never been to Disney World before. In fact, I told a random classmate that I was “going to Disney World” that summer even though I “knew” I was not (and I had said nothing like this to anyone else). How was I to know that my relatives would just happen to come down from Wisconsin and that my brother-in-law would just happen to ask me one morning if I “wanted to go to Disney World”?

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