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Morning of October 23, 2018. Tuesday.

Dream #: 18,936-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 69.



I am at the Concordia Ballroom in La Crosse. (My father often performed publicly here when I was very young.) There is a service counter at the east end of the hall (a fictitious orientation, as it was on the north end). My father is sitting behind it. (I do not recall that he had died in 1979). His father is standing to his right but appears as being much younger than my father. (I do not focus on the absurdity of the scenario.)

My grandfather is talking about the history of our family. During this time, I am trying to connect wires so that both speakers will play music. The one on the far left is working, but the far right one is not. I hear sound only in my left ear. I wrap the clusters of wire around each other. There are many that stick out from different areas of the plastic coating. My father looks on as I do this. I am wary of touching certain ones together, but in reality, it would not matter, as there is no electrical current. I spend several minutes doing this, starting over a few times.

I sincerely tell my father how much I enjoyed singing with him when I was a boy.

My grandfather speaks of a fictitious family history meant to be the truth. I remain puzzled about the details, but I do not say anything. Supposedly, my father’s mother’s name was Boyat (unfamiliar to me). She was famous and had an artificial knee. (In reality, the name was Ruland and appears in a book about Tecumseh.)

Eventually, the right speaker starts working. When this happens, I absentmindedly but dramatically run off to the far end of the hall. I enter a bedroom where Zsuzsanna is sleeping. I leap into the air and fly a short distance. I try to wake her, as it is supposedly late in the afternoon. (In reality, she is awake, and I am asleep in my dream.)

---

There have been numerous dreams of connecting wires. It seems to indicate a subliminal attempt to become lucid or connect with my current conscious self identity. I hear the sound in my left ear, which is dream state orientation, as I sleep on my left side with my right exposed to the real environment, so having the full connection would initiate conscious awareness within my dream.

In this dream, I become more subliminally aware of being in the dream state, but I do not achieve a viable liminal or lucid understanding that I am dreaming. Still, I automatically enter the usual vestibular system correlation stage by leaping and flying in dream state indicator space; the bedroom where Zsuzsanna is sleeping. Up until then, I had no recall of my current conscious self identity. I wake shortly after this. Before I am awake, I see patterns of an offset dream forming to my left, which mostly shows laundry, and I consider it is “correct” in being down to the left.

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Morning of September 09, 2018. Sunday.

Reading time: 1 min 18 sec. Readability score: 63.



I do not usually set the preconscious avatar on fire. It depends upon my acceptance of, and resonance with, the waking process (or how annoyed I might be about waking up in contrast to the more positive willingness) and whether or not vestibular system correlation is a factor of the transition.

My conscious self identity is not present at the beginning. It starts with a typical bedroom induction. The bedroom is a variation of Gellibrand Street in Brisbane, where we have not lived for many years.

Curiously, there are several other people in our bed with us, though I do not perceive them as intruders. (Our bed would need to be unrealistically wide to accommodate them, but I do not perceive it as such.) I am aware that the door into the bedroom is open, but it is to the left rather than in the middle of the opposite wall. (I am atypically sleeping on my right side, with my left more exposed to my real environment).

Two unknown males step into the bedroom. I do not know their intent, but I assume it is intrusive. Having a vague memory of my conscious self identity but not my real-life status, I consider what I should do.

Becoming aware that I am in the waking process of a dream, I become annoyed (as I had not used the induction process to sustain lucidity). I take hold of what is left of my dream self’s side of liminal space and create the intersection process, which is otherwise the choice to reenter deeper sleep or to wake. However, the feature is two rivers that cross each other perpendicularly rather than streets (though they are about the same size as urban streets). I mentally tie the preconscious avatar and his partner to a post where the rivers cross, mentally douse them with gasoline, and set them on fire. I deliberately fly up and out of the dream state much to my satisfaction.

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Morning of September 5, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,888-02/03 (two dreams). Optimized 2 min 15 sec read.



In the first part of my dream, I get out of bed to go into a different room. (My dreaming experience lacks the dynamics of a false awakening). I am aware of Zsuzsanna, but there are also a few unknown people sleeping in the immediate area, yet I do not perceive them as intruders.

My dream self perceives the unfamiliar setting as our present home. I look at a different bed in a well-lit room. Two Ragdoll cats are sleeping near its corner where the walls meet. One is ours; the other belongs to Zsuzsanna's sister. I think the cats are finally used to each other. The darker one gets up and moves to the opposite end of the bed.

I notice my youngest daughter on the floor. She is only about one year old. At first, I am concerned. I go to her, but she seems okay. I notice blue veins on her face, but she is cheerful. I ask the cats if she had fallen off the bed, anticipating a spoken answer, but there is no reply.

My dream fades, though I eventually enter another one. This time I am in the Cubitis house's living room. I do not recall that I had not lived there since 1978. It seems to be morning now.

I go to a fictitious entrance in the middle of the east living room wall. Farther to the east, from the doorway, I see that clouds are close to the ground, creating a virtual horizon at about where the railroad tracks would have been. I consider this incredibly strange. My youngest daughter is present again, though now about three years old. I tell her, "Look, the sky has fallen." I do not believe that the sky has "fallen." I only say this to pique her curiosity. She seems cheerful and wants to see. Still, I think something inexplicable is going on.

I am aware of my father being in the southwest bedroom. (I do not recall he had died when I was in my teens, long before I came to Australia to marry. I have no recall of my mother.) Suddenly, through the curtains, I see that the area where the clouds had been is blue sky. It is suddenly brighter, like a curtain rising from the false horizon. However, I am aware it means all the clouds in the region had suddenly come together to go higher in the sky to form a tornado. It will likely come straight toward our home.

Something unusual happens, as a thread of metacognitive awareness of recently working on a compilation of January 1970 dreams becomes the focus. It changes the outcome of this dream that otherwise anticipates a vestibular phasing response.

It causes my dream to model my experience from January 1970. Instead of a threat, the scenario resets to where I am looking at the "same" clouds near the ground. An angel with large white wings appears in the distance, hovering in the air in a standing position. She is wearing white and will probably give me a gift.

A dove flies into my hands, giving me the strong impression that the angel had transformed into it (somatosensory phasing). As I look down, as it settles into the palms of my hands while facing right, it is almost like a fuzzy pastel painting expressing peace and beauty as I slowly wake.

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I am at Matt and Sara’s house (not sure if it really looks like it). It is pretty dim in here and dark outside. There is a natural disaster occurring; I see a red glow outside. What I’m fairly certain is lava is coming up through the floor. It seems to be coming in through almost every side, but I am able to escape. Outside is almost no better; lava is flowing down the street towards me. I narrowly avoid it. I think Matt, Sara, and Makayla were still in the house, and I hope they’re okay. I am walking away, trying to distance myself from the lava/fire, when I call Dad. I tell him I’m headed a certain direction, to which he tells me angrily that is the wrong way to go. I guess it is worse that way. I get slightly angry at his quickness to anger, like he doesn’t trust my autonomy. With a slight bite to my voice, I tell him I’m fine and safe. I try to call Melissa and Makayla, with no answer. I end up in a Qdoba or something similar. Kenny is working here (he looks younger and older at the same time. I think he has a small mustache). I’m not sure if he recognizes me as I approach the counter. I think I ask what comes on something, and he says he’ll tell me when I pick something. I chose a taco, and he tells me what’s on it. One of the ingredients is bacon. I tell him that’s all okay. I then ask for just a medium sized drink. He moves to the register (to my right) and rings everything up. The total ($8) appears and then goes down, before disappearing completely. I didn’t mind paying and didn’t expect this, but Kenny just chuckles. I go for a fist bump, but he goes to shake it. I go to fill the pretty large plastic cup. I think I end up contacting everyone and finding out that they’re okay.



I am going somewhere with Melissa and her mom and dad. I’m driving Melissa, following her dad. It looks like we’re in a fairly large city, though the roads are not too bad. I am following a map and turn where it says to, though Carlos has gone straight. The turn does seem kind of wrong. Immediately, Carlos calls and tells me he knows what the map says, but to not go that way. I start turning around. We end up parking outside of some buildings. They are tall, with a gently sloping grassy area with a paved walkway nestled amongst them. There is a car parked so close to two low rock walls I don’t even know how it fit. We don’t see Carlos’ car, but we know this is the place, so we get out and start to look for them. We spot them walking through a sort of very small outdoor plaza that mostly looks like a patio. I also see Sage’s mom sitting out here. I’m wondering if she’ll see me. I must also see Granny, because I message Sage, saying how I saw my mom’s mom with her mom. I am now sitting on the cement with Carlos and Melissa. We are packing for a trip, but we are packing sausages? They are little pieces in what looks like an ice tray. Carlos breaks them out and puts them nicely in a small but long black bag. After a while, I start helping. We had them in nice rows, but those start to fall apart. There’s also some loose rice in the bag. Melissa starts putting small pieces of white cheese in the bag, before her dad says she doesn’t need to. I want some though, so I keep putting a few pieces in. We are packing for a lot of people - 60? I’m holding a Ziploc that has two plastic containers in it. I think they are full of water, so I add water to one. I am then under the impression that they are sunscreen, so I feel bad for messing it up. Melissa then tells me it is only water. We are now in a small, cement corner type area. There’s a Deadpool movie theater cardboard cut-out. We hold it up because we think Carlos will like it. Some others show up, about 3-4 guys and girls probably in their mid 20s. They start climbing up this large cut-out. I spot them. One of the guys drops down, bending his legs completely and bringing his whole body down to absorb the impact. There are holes in it, which is what they’re using to climb it. One of the girls is getting mad at them for doing it. This only provokes me. Dressed like Spiderman? I start climbing it. I initially pull myself up with just one finger in a hole at the top of my reach. I climb further than the others did. I start to swing out, a seemingly tense moment for everyone, but my feet land on a brick wall, on which I just barely balance and stand on. I then grasp it and lower myself down first before jumping the rest of the way to the ground. I think I was talking to the girl through all of this. The other say I just completely destroyed her (because she thought we shouldn’t be doing this?). I’m thinking I should’ve done a backflip at the end.



I’m in a high school gym with Melissa. Something is going on; the bleachers are fairly full. We slow and look for a space to sit. There’s an empty row at the top, which we take. People are throwing a ball around, up and down the bleachers. We end up with all of our clothes off, but covering ourselves partially with a blanket.



Melissa and I are staying at my grandma's house. Our bed is not even in a bedroom, just out in the open. I think we have been or are having sex. I hope we haven’t been too loud.

Morning of August 27, 2018. Monday.

Reading time: 1 min 31 sec. Readability score: 65.



I am in our bed at our present address. It seems to be morning, after sunrise. Zsuzsanna is sleeping on my left. The bed is in the correct location. There is light coming from both sides of the closed curtain at the head of our bed.

RAS mediation takes the typical form as an intrusion, though does not breach my dream self’s side of liminal space. (The avatar remains outside, near our window.)

Also atypical is that it seems to be serving the opposite purpose it usually does in the final dream of a sleep cycle, sleep reinduction rather than waking. The avatar takes the form of an unfamiliar animal rights activist. The backstory is that our neighbors to our west have several animals on their property, including a few wild animals. (In real life, there are no neighbors to our west as it is the street, but my dream self, despite most of my conscious self identity being present, does not discern this error.)

The avatar assumes that our house is part of our neighbor’s setup where the animals are. He wants to keep the animals calm by placing large blankets over cages and containers as well as blocking off the areas from each other.

I become annoyed when it seems he had covered at least the left side of our window with a large blanket and will probably go to the right side. Later, however, when I am awake, I see that the room is light and I realize I had been dreaming.

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This dream (as well as another with a different plot) was unexpectedly precognitive (as they often are even when using typical components and autosymbolism), but only loosely. A worker showed up, illegally (without RTA notice) by the landlord to put in a high solid metal fence division to cut off our backyard from being accessed from our front yard, an incredibly stupid and dangerous idea (as it is even called “death trap” in some regions). No matter, I manually removed it without power tools as soon as the worker left.

I knew there was something different about this dream. The behavior of the avatar made no sense. It was discerning interconsciousness threads (with no way of me otherwise consciously knowing ahead of time what the plans were).

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Morning of August 23, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time: 1 min 52 sec.



I am in my Cubitis bedroom. The bed is at the northeast corner lengthwise against the north wall.

Ted Knight is standing in the room while I am on my left side on the bed (as I am sleeping in reality). I see him as with his actor status rather than the role he had on “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” (He died on August 26, 1986, and today is August 23. I had held no thoughts of him for years though.)

He is talking about the pants he is wearing. I mostly see only his right side. His pants have a vertically rectangular opening on each side, below the hip. There is extra material that closes across the opening like a curtain connected at top and bottom. I pretend that I am familiar with this fashion and say that I also had pants like that, mentioning 1964 as a guess of the year they were trendy. He says that they were popular around 1975. I tell him I was 14 then.

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My dream’s content mainly comes from a subliminal awareness of my right leg not having the blanket all the way over it, as I sleep. I am unsure why Ted Knight was called in over something so trivial. It may be from a scene I saw him in years ago as well as the subliminal date association.

In real life, the last time my bed was in this orientation in Cubitis was when I was 14 (and the last time I was in Cubitis was in 1978), though in my dream I perceive being 14 as having been many years ago (though this is not always the case). Still, my conscious self’s identity is non-existent here, even in using the typical pretense to appease the preconscious. That is mainly related to the infra-self understanding the nature of the dream state without being lucid. It is an attribute that is unrelated to real life. Which thinking skills are present in a dream and which are not has always fascinated me in its randomness. My dream self has no idea who I am in real life, or where and when, yet I remember I was 14 in 1975 (though this is not always the case).

There are two main modes of conversation with the preconscious avatar during the waking transition. Sometimes it is gibberish, but other times there is a coherent conversation (though which still often makes no logical sense). It is the second time that the preconscious avatar (always a different character but usually one of only a few modes and personas) mentioned a random 1970s year. The last one was 1979 regarding the date of a magazine. The preconscious having an association with a newsman role is far less common than associations with dancing, flight, or official authority.

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Morning of August 20, 2018. Monday.

Reading time: 53 sec. Readability score: 74.



I am closer to the liminal space of the waking process, but there are no threads of lucidity. My clueless infra-self is in bed at our present address.

Threads of my conscious self do not make much effort to create detail. I see only an expanse of floorboards, implying a much larger area beyond our bed than exists in reality.

Vague ideas about dogs and how they represent control of the dream state occur. (Again, I am not lucid, so this is infra-control.) A black dog’s head pushes up through the floorboards and moves left to right almost as if it is swimming like a person (as the other floorboards make way for it). I only ever see its front half. After a time, it becomes an unfamiliar man, seen from the chest up, who begins reading cheerful poetry from a small book he is holding.

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In real life, neighbors’ dogs sometimes used to run under our house and bump their heads against the bottoms of the floorboards (though now we have a fence across all areas). One of our cats was making noise under the house recently as well. The concept of reading (though usually regarding me trying to read) is an attempt to achieve more awareness while in the dream state. It is something I have practiced since early childhood.

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Morning of August 9, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time: 2 min 20 sec. Readability score: 60.



I naturally flow into the state I call apex lucidity. Usually, though, the state has to be reinitiated by creating and going through a door (or window) that is deemed difficult to open or phase through. (I sometimes end up sliding an entire wall like a sliding door before being fully integrated into this extremely vivid state.)

In this case, I effortlessly slide out of the illusion of my dream-rendered physical body into my apex body. From here, I phase through a window onto the ground outside. I look back through the window. The setting is incorrect in several ways, despite the augmented realism. Firstly, it seems to be the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield, where we have not lived in years (and it has not been there in reality for years). Secondly, it was not possible to look through the window from the ground level at that address. Thirdly, rather than the driveway, it seems more like the space north of the Loomis Street house in America. Fourthly, the bed was never oriented this way as in the dream. The bed’s head was always out from the window, never the side. (Since childhood, my dreams render everything incorrectly in as many different ways as possible other than literally prescient threads, which makes me wonder why anyone would bother with “interpretation” in the typical use of the word, especially as dreams are typically reactive representations of the dream state itself.)

Even so, I keep studying the bed where Zsuzsanna and a baby are sleeping. I keep puzzling over the situation because I do not see my real physical body in the bed (which should be to the right of Zsuzsanna and our baby) as I expect to. It makes me uncertain, and I question if I am “still” in my body and ended up falling out the window in reality. (This makes no sense either, as Zsuzsanna would have been blocking me from rolling over and out the window, so that is already the fifth error here.) I am temporarily absentminded and had already forgotten that my original dream body that I supposedly came out of is not my real body either.

Still, I soon gain back my apex state after this brief lapse. Even so, I feel what seems like an invisible cat wrapping around my left leg, impeding my walking out to the public sidewalk. I consider that one of our cats is probably on my leg in reality as I sleep. (Though this was not the case, it was just illusory.) I try to shake it off without waking myself, and I do, curiously, without a hypnopompic kick resulting. I continue walking into an open area that is more like another place we had lived years ago, on Duffy Street. (As I had written in other entries, walking is more challenging and blissful in apex states than flying is in lower states, one reason being that walking is closer to ordinary consciousness in the highest lucid state with a more defined vestibular system correlation that is not as illusory as flying. Therefore, stable walking signifies far more control of RAS mediation than flying does.)

Soon, I shift into the summoning state of lucidity as typically begins every sleep cycle. About six young, unfamiliar servants walk toward me and coalesce into my dream self. Coming out instantly at that point, I decide not to return. I feel energized. Once again, I consider how realistic the state is in physicality and overall fullness of self.

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Morning of August 8, 2018. Wednesday.

Reading time: 47 sec. Readability score: 80.



In my dream, there is a backstory related to a new 3D printer we have, which is presently being used to make some Hot Wheels tracks and other toys for our youngest son. My dream’s setting is a slight variation of our current home.

It seems to work well at first. The track emerges like paper from a printer does. A length of a race track is on the bed, as long as the bed (oriented from foot to head), with the 3D printer near the foot of our bed.

Soon, I notice the bottom of the track is messily melting into the blanket and bed sheet. It is like glue. It is also stuck on clothes and other items. I become very annoyed and start to remove it, thinking that the material is too fresh and has not cooled enough yet. Perhaps it is all defective.

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As a boy, I had both a lot of Hot Wheels track as well as Matchbox track with accessories for both. They had a slightly different design and color (yellow in contrast to orange), but I still jammed them all together sometimes for a setup in the large Cubitis living room.

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Morning of July 26, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time: 2 min 48 sec. Readability score: 56.



In my dream, most of my current conscious self identity no longer exists. Only one identifiable thread remains for this excursion into the absence of self.

I am about 15 years old again. My mother is alive and present at one point, but I am unaware of my father. (This is the typical absence of viable memory and “means” nothing. In other dreams, I remember my father and not my mother. It is because the dream self does not have viable access to the unconscious mind, contrary to popular misconception. The preconscious has limited access, but the dream self does not. Additionally, the preconscious always knows it is dreaming when the dream self does not, which is why RAS avatars and emerging consciousness simulacra are rendered in the last dream of a sleep cycle to initiate the waking process.)

There is a thread of awareness that I am in bed asleep in reality, though this is a common factor of subliminal presence, not an indication of lucidity, as my dream self is not aware of being in the dream state.

I am writing in my dream journal. As I write, I notice a gentle rain outside. My bed is in the northeast corner of the room, lengthwise to the north wall, the head oriented east. I see the orange grove beyond the carport, though the rendering is different from real life. I am looking through the open jalousie louvers of the carport door. (This setup is likely my subliminal awareness of a doorway representing a dream’s potential exit point, a typical form of reactive representation in the dream state since early childhood.)

As I write, I vaguely recall that other people read my dream journal, but the recall is not full, that is, I do not remember that the Internet (or computers) exists. The thought about other readers is there, yet it does not trigger the emerging consciousness factor or RAS activation until later (and there is not a separate preconscious waking process in this dream, mostly because it is not the last dream of my sleep cycle).

On one level, I am aware I am dreaming. On another level, my dream self does not hold this realization. This enigmatic state has been common to my dreams since early childhood and is not lucidity, but is one of many reasons why I know “interpretation” is not a valid concept. (Other than with factors such as literal prescience, I am aware of the processes that underlay experiences in REM sleep.)

My dream self is perplexed by the recall of how anyone could believe in “interpretation.” (My dream self remains without recall of the Barnum effect as a factor of causation.) Even as a young child, I sometimes went into several pages of why dreams held the causes, meanings, and effects that they did. I was more sarcastic of disinformation agents and empty-headedness at age eight than in my tamer rants as an adult since my 2004 online presence (probably because my mother often shared invalid beliefs about dreams she heard from people in her time, though most of which I still see on the Internet to this day).

As I am watching the rain and listening to its peaceful sound, I write in my journal, “When I am dreaming about rain, it means that I am dreaming about rain. You idiot.” (This is somewhat ironic, as I know water and its specific dynamics typically correlate with ultradian rhythm, the extent of muscular inactivity in sleep, and the dynamics of the glymphatic system. Still, this is in stark contrast to the asinine rubbish that “water represents emotions.” Additionally, even from when I was a toddler, I have always used the essence of water to reinduce the dream state as with its usage as such on virtually countless commercial recordings.)

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This dream mainly came about in response to the typical infuriating nonsense people sometimes leave on my posts on one site (as the site does not have the option to delete or block comments, so I remove the entry and repost it). It is unfeasible for me to post the same extensive paragraphs of information about RAS mediation each time as explanatory notes for a particular dream.

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Morning of July 9, 2018. Monday.



I am in our present home in my dream, though which seems rotated from north to west, perpendicular to its real location on the corner (intersection).

Our youngest son is building a biplane from Lego. However, when I look again, it seems he has changed it so that it is now a building. He is sitting on our youngest daughter’s bed (where he had slept temporarily). I puzzle over this. I visualize the Lego biplane as being vertical and upright, but then consider that I may have only been looking at the “skeletal” foundation of the building (even though it was an actual transformation typical of the dream state).

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This dream is based on very common (an average of more than once per sleep cycle) anticipatory autosymbolism for vestibular system correlation. This does not always result in actual “flight” or a direct change in physicality upon waking (such as a hypnopompic kick or common falling sensation). In this case, with the bed as the literal dream state indicator, with an airplane autosymbolism for physicality in regard to VSC, it simply represents standing up after getting out of bed, though is also an association with our youngest son sometimes standing on this same bed in reality.

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Some previous (posted online) dreams in which a biplane or biplane hang glider has featured include:

Biplane Hang Glider Mishap, February 27, 2016

Biplane in my Pillow, April 4, 2012

Water from a Biplane, December 20, 2010

Biplane Directive, January 2, 1972

They are not as common as other flight symbols (that is, dream state contemporaneous symbolism of VSC, which is usually unrelated to waking life), such as helicopters, of which have featured in hundreds of my dreams since childhood, some featured in my entry “40 Helicopter Dreams”, posted on May 20, 2018.

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Morning of June 8, 2018. Friday.



This dream’s theme has been so common throughout my life, I typically only make a minor note of it, though I write with more detail when interesting factors or features are present. I am walking through an unknown and unfamiliar neighborhood. An unfamiliar male is walking with me to my left. He is about twenty years of age. I find interest in wanting to take a shortcut through a large old building that seems to be a college. The building is on a corner. The public is not allowed to enter but I think about ways I could see more of the interesting building. Another building nearby has a similar essence. I see one man present near a window.

The other male and I turn to walk down an alley. I can see the back of the first building, now to my right as we walk through the alley, and I find a strong interest in its design, pointing out the features to the other male.

We continue to walk and find ourselves needing to go through various buildings in order to get where we are going. We go out through a window and end up outside for a short time, but somehow end up back inside a different building. Some of the apartments are clean, others slightly cluttered. Most rooms are absent of other people.

I walk through an unfamiliar apartment. There are mostly open areas to my left. I walk past a young unfamiliar female cooking food in her kitchen, with the next open area to my left being a boy’s bedroom with a boy sitting on the bed reading. I apologize to the two people for intruding and saying that I had to come this way because of taking a wrong shortcut somewhere. They do not seem annoyed. Of course, the boy and the bed are the last feature in my dream, representing the subliminal awareness of being asleep, though my conscious self’s memory is otherwise not extant at any point.

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Morning of May 4, 2018. Friday.



My dream starts with the very common liminal awareness of my physical body being in bed as I sleep, but I do not attain viable lucidity.

My dream still renders a bed as my dream’s setting, though the location is unknown and undefined and I absentmindedly perceive it more as serving as a table upon which to play the card game. In fact, even though I am aware of playing Gin Rummy with several other people, I do not ever actually see them. I am on my left side (as I am in reality as I sleep) looking at the several piles of playing cards, some face up, each pile with a few cards, some spread out more. I am trying to remember what I need to do next.

However, as my dream self in non-lucidity has neither viable access to the unconscious nor the conscious self identity, I remain uncertain of the rules (even though I have played Gin Rummy in real life numerous times). I gather up all the cards to shuffle them and start to deal them out, but then I consider that this is probably wrong. My dream becomes more abstract and I soon wake.

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This dream was a result of watching “Think Tank” (a television game show) with Zsuzsanna, when a question about Gin Rummy was asked of one contestant and he got it wrong. It is interesting how the simplest random event can integrate into the dreaming and waking processes, but is there a real reason in this case? The question was about the highest-ranking card in Gin Rummy, of which the answer is “King”. I suspect that this correlates with potential liminal dream control in the dream state for a few reasons. One, the presence of the dream state indicator (me being on the bed). Two, my passive dream self allowing the preconscious to modulate rather than a thread of my conscious self identity taking control of my dream. Three, this dream is of the type based on thinking skills correlation, to induce synaptic gating for triggering consciousness.

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Morning of February 10, 2018. Saturday.



These segments come from the last two hours or so of sleep, of which there are usually a dozen or more segments, not counting the circadian rhythms autosymbolism of which I rarely document anymore, as it is usually of the same imagery or implication (other than at 07 here).

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04. Zsuzsanna is in our bed, apparently sleeping, though it is on a beach. Ocean waves are rolling in, but not as a threat, more like associations with the healing nature of sleep (as water is autosymbolism for the dream state itself).

05. Three unknown girls are together, seemingly sharing one drink (in one glass) but they eventually start shifting identities and appearance too fast to really acknowledge with stable dream self focus, about one per second, which is usually an apex lucidity trigger. In this case, I feel that one may be meant to represent Zsuzsanna. However, upon approach, they are all mannequins, which is RAS autosymbolism from the dream self not having a real physical body, the same as with dolls and robots when rendered as such.

06. I am watching a gondola, trying to decide if I want to be in it, vaguely remembering the autosymbolism for going to another level of unconsciousness (and water reinduction).

07. I am standing at a window (perceived as our bedroom window), undressed, in semidarkness, looking through rattan blinds. I vaguely consider, in only partial lucidity, that this is “wrong”, without fully realizing that our bed’s head is adjacent to the window in reality (thus no place for me to stand), and that we no longer have the blinds after they were destroyed in the November storm that had torn the roof from our house. I have long believed that, other than prescient threads, dreams typically render everything wrongly so as the perceptions do not become a part of viable unconscious memory as in contrast to faux RAS-based memory, which is specifically used in RAS mediation (neural gating) for sleep-wake transitions. This is in contrast to all the people who write about the “subconscious”, of which nearly all that is written is based on incorrect beliefs or popular superstition.

11. I am somehow able to see my feet and legs through my bed sheet, which is transparent. Oddly, even though I had been lucid moments before, I am trying to assign this to a real-life featue. Meanwhile, I “remember” that Zsuzsanna is sitting on a beach, waiting for a healing ritual in sleep paralysis. (A beach is a liminal space transition between different levels of unconsciousness and is used as such in mastership meditation.)

12. I seem to be in Cubitis, and if so, it is likely implied to be a backroad between my old rural home and where I went to school in town. I watch a tortoise as it crosses the road, from my side to the opposite side (west to east). Eventually, four small flames emerge from the tortoise’s shell, one from where each leg had retracted. Apparently, it becomes a miniature version of Gamera (the otherwise giant flying turtle-like monster or kaiju from a series of Japanese films). (This is apparently a carryover from a dream of February 3, where a flame comes from each bottom corner of each boxcar that flies in the air. The association seems to be that, as turtles can symbolize the dream self as being asleep in reality, a boxcar is also a setting where people sleep, such as homeless people in transition. I had not made that obvious connection on February 3.) I look back to see tidal pools and recognize this as water lowering waking symbolism in addition to the return flight waking symbolism (most common form due to ambiguous vestibular system dynamics naturally triggered by being unconscious in REM.)

13. In my most vivid waking transition, I am in the backyard at Stadcor Street in Brisbane (Wavell Heights), where we have not lived in years. The backyard is bigger and the house is implied to be more north of a much wider side yard area at the south. There are also several trees throughout the backyard, of which were never there in reality. It seems to be early morning and is still somewhat dark out but clear enough to see most detail. I sense the waking alert factor (WAF) of RAS mediation (though in false lucidity, not active), but I wish to explore more. However, RAS will have none of that. A large cane toad is present as RAS. It becomes a pest. Vestibular system ambiguity becomes more dominant and the toad swells up like a puffer fish and moves through the air as if manipulated by a varying wind (but not very realistic, as it moves through the air too slowly to be a factor of wind). At one point, as it slowly randomly blows about in the air, yet I just happen to be in its path, the cane toad’s mouth makes contact with my hand. I continuously remain wary of it, and maintain focus on its parotoid glands, though I notice there is minimal bufotoxin already on its body. It is quite silly really; a puffed-up cane toad being carried about by a nearly non-existent wind and tapping against my arms or hands at times as if it was based on magnetism or as a metaphor of slowed film footage. (I guess it is better than being “surprised” by the core WAF as a vivid rendering of a snake, of which apes and even lemurs probably dream about a lot as well.) I eventually wake.

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Morning of February 5, 2018. Monday.



I enter an unusual state of faux lucidity, where I have the awareness of what the dream state is and how to create and manipulate dreams, but I do not have my conscious self identity or full realization I am dreaming at the time even as I am creating and manipulating my dream (a bizarre enigma that cannot be resolved in waking life thought, yet which I otherwise experience very often). This is different from states where I am aware of my conscious self at one level, yet do not recall what a dream is, though I am still able to greatly influence dream events and features. This validates that the nature of RAS mediation is not predictable due to the variations of circadian rhythms, as the biological need to wake varies depending on depth of sleep, physical needs, and certain thought processes - many of which are random (for example, threads of something seen on television or material from a book).

I step into the dream state, yet immediately lose conscious self monitoring. I find myself walking through an open area that seems to be a wide street in an unfamiliar city. I am thinking to myself about what time period that I want the dream’s setting to occur in. I think about it being the 1920s, 1930s, or 1940s, and decide I will make it the 1930s.

I watch people walk around, dressed as if they were from the 1930s (although it had been the 1920s before I willed the change). I offer to help an unfamiliar woman (of about fifty) by carrying her package, but she is not interested in me helping her.

Next, I focus on dream state indicators (still without viable awareness that I am dreaming at the time, as this is by residual threads of habit in the lucid dream state since childhood). I find myself in the southwest bedroom of Cubitis (where I have not been since June of 1978). A young version of Zsuzsanna is in the bed, which is aligned along the south wall, head at the southwest corner. I create a radio for her to listen to, but then I am trying to remember if the songs that are playing are from the 1930s or from a much later period, as I do not want to alarm her with inexplicable sounds.

I get distracted and summon a group of dream characters to then look through the door of my room. However, the doorway opens into a landscape instead of my old Cubitis bedroom. I create the essence of a dinosaur in the distance (a typical act in faux lucidity since childhood) and tell the unknown people to watch. The dinosaur eventually appears, but is like a mix of stegosaurus and tyrannosaurus. It moves over the top of a mountain, from right to left in profile (subliminal reinduction attempt), and roars. It is far away at this time and poses no threat.

From here, I go back to the southwest bedroom, but then RAS mediation temporarily increases and I go into the bathroom (and although I do have to use the bathroom in reality, it is not yet that intense a wake-up call), as I am aware the dinosaur is in the house (which makes no sense as it would be too big) and I am now wary of it (even though I had deliberately created it minutes before). I close the door to subliminally avoid the waking activation. I feel soft weight pressing against the door, but I am able to keep it closed. Still, RAS mediation triggers an offset dream of a different level of awareness rather than doorway waking symbolism fully activating.

Entering a different dream state and level of awareness, I then find myself walking with a group of people that I had summoned. Zsuzsanna is present as she is now. We are all walking through an unknown city.

Ahead, and to our right, next to the curb, is an oversized vehicle that resembles a giant stagecoach (more like a stagecoach illogically mixed with a circus train car and doubled in size). It is basically a cage on wheels in the shape of a giant colorful stagecoach. The area behind where the driver would sit is an open area where a lion jumps up and looks down at us. There are other lions in the cage in the bottom area. I am thinking that the lion will jump down near us, but it remains in its location, as something vague in the back of my mind reminds me of subliminal dream manipulation but not directly and not with viable lucidity. This is a bizarre enigma, to subliminally reflect on subliminal (non-lucid) control of the dream state without being viably aware of being in the dream state and yet controlling the dream anyway.

From here, there is an area where people are watching a gorilla walk around. P.T. Barnum is present and showing off the gorilla. There is a cage, and straw covers the street upon where the cage had been placed, but the gorilla is able to leave the cage through the open area. There is no threat however, and the people do not seem that impressed. There is an unknown girl present and I tell her to become part of the scene so that there is an additional ape for the people to view. She does not look like a gorilla of course, but I eventually decide to make her with hair all over. She goes over to the gorilla and P.T. Barnum seems slightly puzzled but somewhat appreciative, even though the girl is not actually a gorilla or acts like one. It seems the public will believe anything, which pleases him. I vaguely remember the Barnum effect, which relates to people who believe in “dream interpretation”. My dream eventually fades with no dominant RAS event. (P.T. Barnum is the personified preconscious in this case, though my dream self already has a thread of emergent consciousness evidenced by my odd state of faux lucidity, so I wake without the need for a strong emotion as the waking alert factor.)

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