Recent DJ Posts

Morning of December 4, 2017. Monday.



I am in bed in our present home, though as usual, the appearance is different. Our bed is oriented as it was prior to the devastating storm that tore our roof off.

Over time, I become aware that rain has possibly been coming through the ceiling (as it had in real life before the tarpaulins were placed over our house). (Note that it was raining in reality at the time of my dream, which I had become aware of through partial awakenings.)

I notice that the ceiling has unusual downward bulges, especially in one area where it almost resembles the shape of a complex vase. The ceiling is not of narrow boards (of their original wood appearance) as it is in reality, but is lower and constructed of white ceiling tiles. I get up and tell Zsuzsanna to leave the area near our bed, as the ceiling might collapse.

Between the dining room (which we use as our bedroom) and kitchen, a part of the wall (which does not exist in reality) and ceiling falls. It is more like an unusual curtain rod with some sort of odd elongated plumb-bob-like features hanging from across it. (This probably relates to an association with vertical evenness.) An identical feature on the other side also partly comes down. While looking towards our bed area, I also see a number of thin boards sticking randomly out from the left edge of the wall at various angles, which was apparently part of the inside of the wall.

I am then in the room of our two youngest sons. Eventually, one of our daughters, a fictional character however, as in my dream there is a false memory of having at least five daughters around nine years old, comes in and talks to Zsuzsanna (with the girl standing near the south wall of the room and facing Zsuzsanna). She is Hispanic with darker skin. She seems worried. When I look at her, I notice something on her neck, the front lower area. I first worry that ceiling debris had gotten into her neck, possibly going through her neck from behind. Puzzling over this, I also worry for a short time that it is an actual bone slightly protruding from above her skin. Eventually, I decide that it is just a large droplet of water below her neck and I gaze directly at it for a few minutes, noticing a slight quivering effect. (This is liminal dream control in trying to reinduce my dream with water induction, especially as it appears on the neck of the precursory form of the personified preconscious, though it also relates to transferred associations with Zsuzsanna’s throat and the soothing of it, as she had been coughing in real life prior to my dream.) No longer worried about her status, I go back into our kitchen. Still, looking back, I notice that the preconscious form (as our fictional daughter) is looking up, blinking quickly, and moving her eyes side to side (symbolizing the REM factor of the waking transition). I ignore the RAS manifestation (which also foreshadows my hypnopompic illusion that comes after this dream ends) and as a result, my dream lasts a minute or two longer.

While standing near the center of our kitchen again, I notice that the walls below the windows have large jagged holes directly leading to our backyard (representing the emergent consciousness factor with subliminal realization of being unconscious yet still being able to look deeper into my mind), the perimeter of these holes made up of splinters of wood. However, this area of our kitchen is rendered incorrectly. It is more like the inside of the residential turret of the northeast room I used to sleep in (on the second floor) in the King Street mansion or the first-floor bay window area on the south end (dining room) of the Loomis Street house. I consider that there is too much damage for our house to remain livable; as I also consider someone could easily crawl through a hole into our house if entering our backyard through our gate.

After a short time, I see that bed sheets are now covering the holes and that they might also be smaller than I first thought. As I am thinking about this, I wake, realizing I am focused on the curtain that divides our bed from the kitchen area and listening to the rain and that I had been partly creating my otherwise non-lucid dream with vague threads of my conscious self’s will.

As I am not fully awake, I am then looking up at our real ceiling. I see a hypnopompic illusion of large raindrops hanging everywhere across our ceiling. I blink my eyes a few times, but the illusion remains for a minute or two. (There is actually nothing present to create the illusion of water droplets. It is just an atypically sustained hypnopompic illusion with concern about when it did have water droplets present, though never as dense as in my illusion.)

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Morning of March 23, 1974. Saturday.



I am either (originally implied to be) resting or “sleeping” within my dream, with my bed being fully in the southwest corner of my Cubitis bedroom, aligned along the south wall near the one jalousie window, though my head to the east, lying on my right side at first.

After a time, I hear someone say my name from above (but seemingly close to my head), the dream becoming more vivid, followed by “Claude…here are some books” with a loving and intimate intonation. It is my “mystery girl”, but I am not sure where she is, perhaps in another dimension oriented above my bed, with the portal being part of the ceiling itself, though the ceiling does not look any different. Several large old books fall somewhat in slow motion (or somehow held back from falling more heavily as if perhaps by levitation) onto my bed. There is a very clear and strong sensation of weight shifting by the books landing on my bed. For a short time, I consider that the girl will join me, but I do not see her anywhere at any time. There is a vivid sense of antiquity as well as a feeling that these books are also one-of-a-kind. They mostly seem somewhat encyclopedic, some relating to the paranormal or perhaps spiritual rituals. I am somehow somewhat aware that the writing in one book reminds me somewhat of plant roots (which is a recurring concept) even though I do not seem to be looking inside any of the books. This event seems to be happening in the morning. Sunlight is filling my room and I feel a sense of true love from somewhere unknown.

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I am disappointed that they are not there after I wake up, as if I have residual consideration that items from my dreams can materialize in reality with the right focus.