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Morning of April 1, 2017. Saturday.



This dream falls into a similar theme as a dream of September 2016 where whatever I write becomes part of my dream (rather than saying an affirmation to create dream scenes). Still, I never become lucid.

In one scene, my wife Zsuzsanna and I had been together for a year or more but, according to my dream’s backstory, we had not been married. I write a sentence that reads “Zsuzsanna and I have a legal marriage license”. I do some sort of hand motion over the writing, and then slap the wall (“Supernatural” television series influence, it seems). A sheet of paper that looks something like a certificate appears out of nowhere on a picnic table. It is apparently our marriage license. An unknown female claims it does not seem real, as certain writing on it is not raised (or embossed). However, looking at a real marriage certificate, it seems of the same (correct) design.

In another scene, an aircraft carrier moves towards a beach. It is tipped to one side and moves out and in with the waves for a time, lengthwise to the shore - the top facing towards land. It is vivid and dramatic but there is no threat to me. (It does not seem to be sinking.) Oddly, the airplanes do not move or slide off at any point. There is vague concern that one end or the other may cause damage to buildings near the shore, but this does not happen.

In another scene, I decide to eliminate a large portion of the world’s population. I make sure to include “except for me and my family”. I am outside at a picnic table and George C. Scott (October 18, 1927-September 22, 1999) approaches. I have not yet slapped my writing (which is on the surface of the picnic table) to instigate the event.

An unknown male is with George C. Scott and gives me advice on how to utilize my idea. I am to write that George is my uncle and that he will be going back in time to just before humans came to exist (though I am not at all aware of what the situation implies). The unknown male tells me that the name is written with two S’s, inferring that it is George C. Sscott, which does not seem right to me, but I write it anyway, though it still somehow comes out as “George C. Scott” and he complains about the spelling. I make a couple mistakes and have to write it again, one being “George S. Cott”, another being “George Scott”.

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I logged on to Dreamviews to see that every DJ entry except for the ones tagged with 'Memorable' Were now gone. There were only the five most recent entries with a 'Memorable' tag on them in my DJ. I also had a bunch of notifications (12 I think).


I was living on an aircraft carrier. (Actually I think it was like the flying heli-carrier from Avengers.) We were docked just offshore in NYC, and were in the process of leaving. On it were a bunch of people along with their guides, or so I assumed. There were some people with two or three guides there. I think I saw my friend C as well as Dawn.

I became a little bit lucid and decided to (for some reason) ask Manei what she thought of the Spirit Science videos. (A little context: Yesterday, I made a post on meditation, and in one of the replies, somebody sent me a Spirit Science video. I've actually watched these a lot in the past, and if you're interested I would recommend looking them up. The narrators' voice kinda annoys me though.)

Anyways she stated that sometimes those videos seem a bit gimmicky to her, but in the end, their interpretation of philosophies and general take on the world are really good.

The two of us got food from the cafeteria and sat on the edge of the deck carrier together.

There was much more to this dream but I can't remember it.


FA'd laying on the sidewalk. I had two blankets on me. I was in my subdivision, next street over from where I live, and it was a dark, cold night. A woman was standing there asking me if I knew where bus number 31 was. She said that it was supposed to be here at 8:10 and it was now 8:30. She was wondering if she had missed it.

"I don't know... for all I know this is just a bad dream-"

I looked at the moon in the sky. It was there all right, but it was about ten times bigger than it should have been. I looked away and looked back and the moon had been replaced with a multicolored gas planet.

Actually, I'm pretty sure this is just a dream. Hey, lady, pinch your nose like this *does nose pinch RC* Can you breathe?

"Oh my gosh! I can!"

She started to get really excited, like a new lucid dreamer would.

"This is called lucid dreaming, look it up. And if you get the chance-"

She disappeared from the dream with a humorous 'pop' sound.

"-my name is JadeGreen... "

I grumbled to myself that I didn't get to finish thinking about how that would be a really interesting way to show shared dreaming. I then asked myself if shared dreaming is even really possible. I realized that I don't have a solid answer on either side.

The dream went semi lucid here. I was trying to avoid these guard/searchlight towers that had appeared around my neighborhood. I thought I could fly but due to poor lucidity and practice as of late, my flying would always cut out a few seconds after I started.

Obscure dream about an aircraft carrier type ship that covered about 3/4 of the atlantic ocean. I think it was intended to be some giant artificial country.

[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][img]http://flowerinfo.org/wp-content/gallery/lotus-flowers/lotus-flower-13.jpg[/img][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I’m in California, visiting my dad with my son and daughter.We have gone someplace for the day, and have now decided to go look around thebay for scenic moments. We are in Oakland somewhere and come to a pullout, oroverlook, and as we get to the edge we can see the water and all the ships init, including a cargo ship and an aircraft carrier. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My dad says, “Let’s go take a look!”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]We go down to water level, somehow, possibly by convenientelevator. When we arrive at dock level I can see the port of Oakland on myright side, though it seems to have much less to do with cargo than usual, andall the cargo cranes are not present, only a few remain. Tied to the dock farto my right is an aircraft carrier, towering above us, and loaded with planes.This is the ‘wow’ moment. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]When I was young I would walk down to the Navy breakwater inAlameda and watch the carriers from only a few hundred feet away. They were bigand powerful, cities to themselves. When the Naval Air Station closed thecarriers left, along with all the planes and support personnel. I was alwayssad to see them go.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I’m looking at how big and shiny and colorful the aircraftcarrier is and how good the sky looks behind it. It seems the Navy has become alittle progressive with their color schemes and instead of just the plain greyof most ships this carrier has been updated with accents of black and red thatmake the carrier look powerful and swift. I decide I want my film camera instead of mylittle digital, which I left in the car, back up the hill. I tell my dad, “Ireally want my camera; I’m going to go back and get it.” He says, “Yeah, I think I want my camera,too.” He accompanies me back to theelevator and we ride up to get our cameras.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]At the top I walk out and I am standing in a dirt parkinglot. The dirt is fine and almost sandy, but not deep. Behind me where thescenic vista was is now a series of shops and other small buildings, none morethan five stories in height. The buildings are mostly made of concrete and lookold. The time is late afternoon and manyof the local workers are emerging, preparing to go home, and some appear toalready be toasted. Many are dressed in sailor outfits, though they don’t seemout of place despite us being some distance from the water. At some point I believe I have a conversationwith one of them.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I have come home from California, and I’m happy to be home.Jen is happy we are home also, though my kids don’t seem to be around. Theliving room of the house is different than normal. The structure of the houseis different, the walls have texture, and even the orientation of furniture is changed.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I walk out the back door with her and our storage room isoff to the left upon exit, and beyond it is a lot of brush. Jen decides tobreak some and starts a small fire in the outdoor fire pit/hearth (which doesnot exist in real life), and I break a few branches myself. Then I realize thatas the fire grows it will burn the plants and dead branches piled above thehearth, and I begin pulling down and breaking the material so it won’t start auncontrolled fire. Jen gives me anexasperated look as I put some branches on and stand them vertically so theywill catch, telling her, “You have to stand them up, like this, to make themcatch fire.” This prompts the eye-rolling from her, and she moves the firearound with a stick. [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]We come inside and she is on the far side of the kitchen,handling some task. I am still near the back door which now has a window to theleft of it when facing the back door. This window is not made of glass, or ismissing the glass, and instead has a thick plastic sheet in place, and I feel adraft coming around it. I inspect it more closely and discover it is notattached at the bottom, and pushing on it allows even more cold air to come in.The push also reveals a hidden pocket of snow, collected in the window and notyet melted, which I reach for. The snow is mixed with small leaves and grass,and it’s cold, but fluffy. I turn around to show everyone and a friend of myson is standing there, and he asks, “Is it cold? Can I touch it?” I throw it at him, and it lands on hisjacket. I feel pretty good about this and throw a little more at him, which hetakes in good stride.[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I notice by looking out the back window that the fire isgetting high, and needs to be brought down, so I go outside to handle this. Thetrees above the fire are getting singed and one of the trees is actually onfire. These are thin trees, perhaps twelve feet in height at their top, and allare young fruit trees. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I head for the water faucet by the back door, turn on thewater to a medium flow, and begin spraying the trees with a mist to extinguishthe fire and protect them, while hopefully not dropping too much on the fire itself.Sadly, I use too much and the fire is diminished to a smoldering heap, but itis still burning and that’s what I wanted.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I go back inside, I believe, and walk up to the front of thehouse briefly, or perhaps not briefly, time and motion seemed to blend here. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Again I look out the back and now the yard is super-long,perhaps several hundred feet. On the right of the property is a long,chain-link fence, which just ends towards the back of the property. The firehas been moved out to the end of the property, and is in a large tank offiberglass, or heavy plastic, with ports on the side. I run because again thefire is out of control, sending flames and sparks some 25 feet in the air, andI don’t want the attention of the fire department. I turn on the hose, but thistime it is heavier, and longer. I realize that Jen has attached a second hoseto the first one so it can reach all the way to the back of the property. I runwith the sluggish hose filled with water and finally reach the fire pit, but asI arrive the fire is extinguished by several guys hanging out in the back yard.They have put out the fire using a fire-protection system that is mounted alongthe back side of the container. It consists of several vertical supports towhich large buckets are attached, each filled with water. Each bucket is blue,cylindrical in shape, and about two feet wide and four feet tall, and opensfrom the bottom to allow a dousing effect. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The container, or fire pit, is now filled with water whichsloshes back and forth. It is dirty and filled with ash, and one of the guys isin the water, trying to gain his footing. He apparently activated the system,though I wasn’t sure why he was in the pit at the time.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I explore the rest of the end of the yard here, and when Ilook towards the house it seems really far away. When I look out away from thehouse I see that the yard ends not far from where the fence ends, and becomes asloped piece of earth which leads to a street where many new homes are beingconstructed. The road is dirty, as is common around construction sites and Ican see the tire tracks of the vehicles in the dust.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]To my left, when facing out, a house is being constructed,and it appears to be encroaching on my property, and I say, “It was nice ofthem to ask if they could build here.” Suddenly I have doubt in my mind. Didsomeone ask? I can’t recall.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]From the street a vehicle approaches, turns down the hilland comes towards me. It is not a fancy vehicle, nor new, but the owner ordriver steps out and walks up. He is dressed in white clothes, not quite asuit, but more western in appearance. He walks and talks business.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I want to buy your truck, he tells me.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My truck? I’m not quite sure what he means. I turn aroundand the fire container has become a red truck body, and for some reason this iswhere the fire was built. The truck is old; possibly a late 70’s or early 80’smodel. There is a cab piece, a large bed from the truck, and a hood. Theproportions of all these truck parts are abnormal, possibly three or four timeswhat they would normally be. Despite their large size they are lightweight, andcan be moved easily. I pick up the bed and turn it upside down, and it is now coveringme like a cave. I back out and move the other pieces, to block the yard fromaccess. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“It’s not for sale, I don’t think.” I tell the man.“Besides, it’s not mine. It belongs to Jen.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The man dismisses me and starts to walk towards the house,and I tell him to stop. At first he ignores me, and I tell him, “You won’t getanywhere unless you talk to me first.” He is still walking and I hold up myhand and start counting fingers, backwards, “Five, four, three, two…” The man turns around and walks back. “Okay,I’ll listen.” [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]“The truck belongs to Jen, and has been part of the familyfor a long time.” He gives me a sidewaysglance. “I can take you to her but I need to talk to her first.”[/SIZE][/FONT]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I get up from my seated position and am about to movetowards the house when I notice a couple of people have walked up, and they areheaded towards the stairway to my right (as I face the back of my house). Theback of the yard has morphed in to a room, and I am perched on the back of asofa which occupies part of an interior room with a fireplace, a large mirror,a couple of tables, and the previously mentioned stairway. The people, whoappear to be teenagers, proceed up and out of sight around a bend in thestairwell. This stairway wasn’t there just moments ago and I realize the house nextdoor has been built surprisingly fast. As I’m pondering its origin anothercouple walks up, a man led by a woman, and she is only wearing panties. She isan attractive women in nearly every way, tall and thin, tan skin, and longbrown hair. Her breasts are exposed, and the man I am with is staring veryintently at her breasts. They have beautiful fullness but her nipples appearinverted, and have the shape of lotus flowers, as If the flesh has beenterribly mutated or mutilated. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She walks by and out of sight up the stairs, and I say, “Didyou see that? Her nipples? They’re all gross!” I’m slightly mad, slightly bewildered,and very confused. “And where do all these people keep coming from? Why arethey in my back yard?!”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The man had indeed seen her breasts, and had been staring ather with obvious lust on his face as he also stared at her ass. “Letch!” I callhim, and turn away. He seems unfazed by my comment and did not appear botheredby the shape of her nipples.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I don’t dwell on this and I walk back up to my house, whichis either closer now or I skipped over the walking part. To the right of myback door is the back door of another house which has now been built directlyagainst mine, and I say, “What the hell? When did this get here? Why did theybuild so close?” Indeed they are close, and to make it worse both houses now sharethe storage room to my right. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Confused and upset, I walk inside, through the kitchen, andon in to the living room. A party has been going on and there are guests in thekitchen and dining area, which I slip past. In the living room I find Jen, leaningdown in the closet near the front door, rummaging for something. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Honey? There’s a man here to see you. He wants to buy thered truck out back. “ [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She stands up and turns around. We walk into the middle ofthe living room and from nowhere Riley S. appears. He is in his Boy Scoutuniform and is overly cheerful, standing boldly with his hands on his hips,arms bent out to either side. [/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I’m here to introduce the man!” he proudly announces.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]His scout uniform is covered in patches, each about threeinches squared, and these are all his merit badges. Suddenly the man appearsnext to him, and he is dressed similarly, covered in patches and fullyuniformed. He places his hand on Riley’s shoulder and says, “I’ve got this,son.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I turn to Jen and say, “Here is the man. He wants to buy theirtruck. He is not related to Riley, and is also not part of the Scouts. Oh, andhe’s a letch.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Again the man seems unfazed by this and asks if he can buythe truck. In a very pleasant voice Jen tells him it is not for sale, and hasbeen in the family for a long time. It’s special to her, and I begin to wonderwhy she had allowed a fire to be placed in it. Still, it’s not my truck, soit’s none of my business.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]This part may have occurred before the California dream.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I remember looking over all my cassette tapes, with theintention of playing one of them. This is an odd moment in the dream because Irecognize that cassettes are no longer in style, let alone production. Despitethis I am excited to play a tape of good music for…someone. I have the feelingI want to play music for someone but I don’t know who it is now. I am alsoexcited because I am using the cassette player my dad had when I was a kid,which I liked very much. It had lots of buttons and dials, and a VU meter foreach channel.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I recall, after the house dream, looking through somecomputer files for “The Death File.” I do not recall why I was looking for thisnot what it was connected to but it seemed important. I am standing over acomputer with an older-style monitor that displays yellow-lettering. I amclicking through a list of files and looking for the one I want.[/FONT][/SIZE]
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