• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    1. Tackle Shop Bookshop

      by , 10-30-2018 at 01:58 PM
      Morning of October 30, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,943-03. Reading time: 2 min 38 sec. Readability score: 62.



      My dream renders a mixed-up combination of a pawn shop from America, a bookstore from Nundah (Australia), and a tackle shop from America. It seems to be late afternoon. I am on my own, with little conscious self memory (even though Zsuzsanna and I frequented the Nundah bookstore years ago).

      There is a backstory, and false memory, about how I had traded several packs of long bookbinding screws (at least four inches in length) for credit or to trade, though I do not recall all of the details. There are two unfamiliar female cashiers present who are in their twenties. (The bookbinding screws relate to my big stamp album binders from when I lived in Florida, though there are likely associations with similar screws I used for putting the swing set together after Christmas.)

      I am carrying a winter jacket (though mostly slung over my left shoulder). As such, I try not to appear suspicious, as I also have items I had brought into this store. I consider that they might think I am taking them from their store and trying to hide them under my jacket. (This is a literal bed space strand, as subliminal awareness of the bed sheet pulling around my left shoulder.)

      They seem puzzled (and express disbelief) when I infer how I had traded items previously. The shelves that had packs of bookbinding screws are now all empty. For some reason, they are to do with fishing tackle, but my dream self does not reflect upon this error. The owner is at the back of his store, but I do not approach his counter. (I perceive him as the owner of the pawn shop in La Crosse, though there are also associations with the owner of the Nundah bookstore.)

      One of the women asks me if I want to buy one of the bigger bass plugs, but I respond that they are too big for the type of fishing I do (which includes striped bass and smallmouth bass for which I prefer small jigs and spoons). I then walk to the opposite side of the store. I see that they are selling magazines and comic books, though there are only a few different titles on the wooden display shelves.

      I see two Casper comic books next to each other. There are a few copies of each, vertically stacked. One is $4.53, and the other is $5.64. I decide to buy them, but I am not sure if I have enough money. An unknown chubby man of about twenty (who works in the store) picks one up to look through. I tell him that I had hundreds of Casper comic books collected over thirty years and that they were usually different. I add that sometimes there were reprints in digests and suggest their size by forming a small square with my hands. I tell him about those digest stories being “backed up” in the way I would describe how I back up my dream documentation online and on more than one drive.

      As I walk to the checkout counter on the opposite side of the store, he calls out, saying something about “sending backup.” The reference seems humorous or business-related rather than inferring police activity.

      I reach into my wallet and see that I have solely an American twenty-dollar note, which will suffice, even though I consider the prices on the comic book covers will be more when changing to the Australian amount.

      I pay the cashier, and as I get my change, I deliberately, though liminally, reset the scenario and leave without paying.



      When the emerging consciousness simulacrum (the chubby male) was talking about “sending backup,” it became a comically sarcastic reference to me subliminally resetting my dream to deliberately manipulate the function of RAS (reticular activating system) as the preconscious simulacrum in the second instance by “erasing” the cashier’s presence. I have utilized this sort of dream control and subliminal, liminal, and lucid manipulation since early childhood.


    2. The Silent Purple Ghost

      by , 06-08-2018 at 02:04 PM
      Morning of June 7, 2018. Thursday.



      I am watching a dream scene as if present, but I am not a part of the events.

      A male ghost, mostly of a darker violet color, dwells within the space of the checkout area of a convenience store. Most shoppers are unaware of his existence. At times, he temporarily takes possession of some people.

      In the last scene, the ghost somehow transforms into a piece of grape-flavored hard candy in a wicker bowl (where all the other hard candy is also grape-flavored) opposite the checkout area and the cashier. Apparently, customers are allowed one piece each as they go through the checkout.

      An unfamiliar woman puts one of the candies into her mouth. Suddenly, she appears to be in distress, as the cashier and store manager help her to tilt her head back as the ghost, not yet fully expanded within her physical essence, unwillingly comes out, though the other two are also pulling it out. At this point, it looks somewhat like a violet tracksuit, the track pants coming out first.



      Colors often correlate with dreaming and waking processes, though only when dominant (especially as dreams typically contain all colors). My general sequence is as follows (and of course black is unconsciousness): violet, non-lucid subconscious self; indigo, lucid subconscious self; blue, interconsciousness (prescience, telepathy for lack of a better word, and liminal conscious self awareness); green, liminal space, lower preconscious; yellow or gold, emergent consciousness; orange, apex lucidity, ordinary awareness and a more viable memory set; red, invasive RAS modulation (as red typically only dominates a dream when I have overslept or have a headache and I also see red with reticular activating system modulation with a headache when awake, so it is more obvious in this case). Of course, there are variations which also depend on the level of dream state awareness itself.

      The checkout scenario is common autosymbolism for leaving the dream state. This correlates with the non-lucid subconscious self being “pulled out” of the remaining dream character prior to waking. A cashier would of course be preconscious personification and a store manager the emergent consciousness factor. Perception of loose clothes has occurred in other dreams in checkout scenarios. This is based on the subliminal realization of not being dressed while asleep in bed, the same subliminal awareness that triggers dreams of being undressed in public (which should be a no-brainer for anyone of reasonable intelligence).


      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. Contractor

      by , 03-26-2018 at 10:06 AM
      Morning of March 20, 2018. Tuesday.



      In this dream, I mostly remain semi-lucid, though there are a few random distractions. The settings are all unfamiliar.

      At one point, I find myself in an upstairs room in some sort of restaurant. I am near the counter where a cheerful chef asks me what I want. There is a plate of mashed potatoes that I decide to take. I do not eat all of it as I notice there is activity downstairs and I also realize that seems to be the only way out of this room.

      When I am downstairs, my lucidity increases to where I realize that my physical body is not wearing shoes as I sleep. Looking down, I notice that my feet are bare. This is not of much concern to me as I recognize the dream state indicator for what it is. However, just for the sake of presence, even though it is just a dream, I decide to summon shoes onto my feet. My feet are wearing shoes for a time, but they become transparent now and then. The people in the restaurant are all friendly.

      Eventually, I come to a checkout counter in a different building, which might be that of a library. I absentmindedly bump it and it seems very loose and actually comes off and so I place it so that it leans against the side of another part of the service area. I tell the unknown female at the counter that I will fix it and a contractor, an unfamiliar friendly male of about forty, soon appears. There is an unusual segment where unfinished buildings are seen. I mentally will most of the buildings to complete even though there are also several construction workers around.

      I notice that the counter I had been at earlier is now nearly two stories high from what seems to be an outside area. several unfamiliar people are present, including the original unfamiliar female. There is the typical indoor outdoor ambiguity, where it seems I am inside and outside at the same time (a factor of the illusory nature of the dream state in semi-lucid understanding that I am actually inside a house in our bedroom). I slowly wake around this point.



      A checkout counter is common autosymbolism for the waking stage (a metaphor for leaving the dream state). In this case, there was no dominant preconscious factor or RAS mediation or modulation, as the checkout being beyond my reach was a precursor to sleeping for a few more hours.


    4. Buying a Mad Magazine

      by , 02-27-2018 at 08:27 AM
      Morning of February 27, 2018. Tuesday.



      I am in an unfamiliar store and looking at a large wooden display unit for magazines. It has four shelf sections and is as long as the aisle.

      I notice an American Mad Magazine on the third shelf up, the front cover of which resembles that of issue 145 from September 1971 (with the original’s cover price being 40 cents), though the art is somewhat sketchy, seemingly by Don Martin, and drawn smaller and lower than the real version. It also seems to be implied to be a hot air balloon with a male character hanging from the basket’s gunwale on the left side and a female character facing left in profile and looking down at him with a question mark over her head.

      I pick it up with my left hand but I never open it. Still, I perceive that some of the pages are stiffer than usual, perhaps due to several different thin cardboard pages throughout. I consider that it may be a special issue. I assume it is two dollars and prepare to buy it, discovering that I have an Australian two-dollar coin in my right hand.

      Zsuzsanna is also soon present and she finds a magazine that she plans to buy. It seems to be a different issue of Mad Magazine, but I do not see the cover.

      I go to the singular checkout counter, which looks somewhat like the type in a convenience store, although there is no display unit at the front. I prepare to pay for the magazine when I notice that I am also carrying, in my left hand (and below the magazine), what looks like three VHS cases, though smaller than real ones and ambiguously associated with DVD cases. Looking at them, they all seem to be folk music albums.

      Their covers are all in brown and beige hues and feature mostly print (apparently lists of song titles). I put them in a display bin in which others are strewn, at the end of the aisle near the checkout. Going back, I notice that I still have one case in my hand, and wonder how I had missed putting it back. I feel somewhat annoyed by my absentmindedness.

      When I am at the checkout (Zsuzsanna standing on my left), the unfamiliar male cashier tells me it will be twelve dollars. Looking at the cover, even seeing that the price in the upper right corner reads as $3.12 (three dollars and twelve cents), I still exclaim, “How can a two dollar magazine be twelve dollars?” I consider that I might pay the amount, as I start to remember that American magazines in Australia are much more expensive than their printed cover price, but I wake at this point.



      Zsuzsanna is usually on my left in the last segment of a dream. This is subliminal awareness that she is on my left as we are sleeping, and as such, is a common DSI (Dream State Indicator).

      The Mad Magazine cover depicts static “failed flight waking symbolism”, suggesting that the character is about to fall, potentially precursory symbolism of my dream self in waking transition (the typical biological jolt of waking). However, these common dynamics had been quashed in this case, both in being featured on a liminal space divider (magazine cover) and oriented incorrectly. This is otherwise based on the biological vestibular system ambiguity of being unconscious, unrelated to waking life. There has been at least one VSA factor in at least one of my dreams of each sleeping period for over fifty years, so pretending that VSA autosymbolism is relevant to waking life is asinine (other than when literally prescient, though I doubt I will be in a hot air balloon or buying a Mad Magazine in the future).

      This dream is the typical checkout scenario, which is autosymbolism of consciousness reascension (leaving the dream state), one of my most common factors of waking autosymbolism since childhood. The confusion about prices (as well as having to do the same thing more than once) is a common dream state dynamic (as the non-lucid dream self does not usually possess or maintain viable thinking skills or temporality) of which is unrelated to waking life and the conscious self.

      The preconscious personification (the cashier) is an unfamliar male to prevent my dream from having waking life associations. (However, in direct contrast, this factor is sometimes inexplicably prescient.)

      RAS mediation renders the store as unfamiliar to prevent my conscious mind from mistaking it as being related to waking life (for prevention of false or ambiguous memories). (There is always the possibility that it may be visually prescient, but it is probably only the usual unique fictitious composite.)

      In summary, this dream features the usual components and autosymbolism. The Mad Magazine cover is similar to the first issue that my mother bought me when I began to collect them in 1971, thus this represents the induction marker of my dream, while the checkout is the exit marker.


      Updated 05-20-2018 at 04:18 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    5. Christmas Carols at the Checkout (with Javier Bardem)

      by , 09-22-2017 at 03:22 PM
      Morning of September 22, 2017. Friday.

      Dream #: 18,540-03. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



      I am inside a store in its front area. It is like the Woolworths grocery store where we presently shop. I am unsure of the time, though it seems to be morning. I am with Zsuzsanna. There are several unknown people present whom I do not see as intruders. A man who looks like Javier Bardem (this dream’s preconscious simulacrum) is near one of the aisles adjacent to one end of the store (the left when inside the store).

      Zsuzsanna and I share intimacy openly (mainly because of associations with the store being our present home).

      Later, an unfamiliar girl is present. There seems to be a Christmas mood, as at least one person is talking about Christmas music. I am unsure of whether the girl is implied to be Javier’s wife. I loudly and sarcastically sing with a sustained vocal, a line from “Oh Holy Night,” which is “Fall on your knees.” (This is from reading about the song “Lola” by The Kinks yesterday, which has the suggestive line, “I got down on my knees.”) The girl is now sitting on the floor on her knees. I eventually entertain the notion that it is time to leave the store, yet it is also more like the bedroom of our present home, though it is still Woolworths despite the blankets on the floor. I do not reflect upon this impossibility. (I am not viably lucid, so I remain unaware of the common autosymbolism of a checkout being a dream’s end marker due to it having the meaning of “checking out” of the dream state.)

      Javier is packing something into a bag. (I loosely associate it with the bag Santa Claus carries around in popular myth.) It is sitting to the right of the last checkout access inside the store. I absentmindedly place an unplugged alarm clock into the bag. (This is a subliminal attempt at reinduction, to stop any waking prompt energy.) I also notice what I think is a pair of my blue jeans in the bag. I take them out (though I am unsure if I am wearing anything), though leave the unplugged alarm clock in the bag. Javier looks at me with a very annoyed expression. I get the impression that the blue jeans may be his, but that the clock is mine.

      “What are you doing?” he says with irritation. “It’s time to leave the dream state. Plug that thing back in.” I put the pants back into the bag, but soon wake, while retrieving and holding the unplugged alarm clock.



      A store’s checkout has been an end marker of dreams since childhood, yet my dream self typically forgets this. Although the preconscious is usually a different character, often a celebrity (as they are not a personal dynamic of my reality), my dream self often does not recognize its distinctness even after 50 years. (This is possibly a safeguard at the neurological level.) Being undressed in public is the subliminal awareness that I am undressed in reality as I sleep.


      Updated 02-10-2019 at 06:41 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    6. Catlike Shadow Creature and Shopping

      by , 09-10-2016 at 03:10 PM
      Morning of September 10, 2016. Saturday.



      My wife Zsuzsanna and our children and I are living back at Stadcor Street in Brisbane. It seems to be early afternoon and we have to go shopping for groceries. I am going out the back way, through our kitchen, but the layout is a bit different. The small square area that one needs to go through to get to the back porch is much bigger and there are additional doors, one directly into our backyard and another one onto our back porch.

      I notice what I first think is our pet black cat in the small room with me but it has no eye, nose, or mouth detail. It is like a three-dimensional shadow and I sense puzzlement radiating from it. I am slightly wary (but not fearful in any way) as the creature jumps up and somehow goes through the area between the central top part of the door and the door frame (and would have to be as thin as a sheet of paper to do this). This would be the door that goes to our back porch (liminal space).

      I go to the lounge room to talk to Zsuzsanna about this strange event and she calls the animal something I do not seem to be able to hear properly. After I ask her to repeat it a few times, it still sounds something like “wolf-roosh”. My hearing ability seems to become too distorted each time to hear the final part of the term. What I grasp from the term seems odd to me as it was seemingly a cat shadow, without any wolf associations at all.

      After we do our shopping, the unfamiliar balding male cashier (of about forty years of age) cannot seem to get the cash register to work properly. Apparently he has to press his thumb on a pad to acknowledge he has the authority to use the cash register, but it is not recognizing him. I am thinking that maybe his thumb needs to have a small amount of yellow ink on it to get it to work. I am getting annoyed and I am not sure how we will complete the transaction if the cash register will not work.



      The checkout area of a store is a waking transition metaphor symbolizing leaving the dream state. In this case, the lack of “yellow thumb” is associated with not being fully conscious. The cash register symbolizes the potential increments of critical thinking during the waking transition as conscious self identity emerges.

      The threshold event (here an atypical precursor rather than my dream’s final scene) concerning the door, featured a cat shadow in liminal space as the emergent consciousness factor. Curiously, this was borrowed from the ending of “The Flintstones” (which I had seen so many times as a child). Even the essence of the movement (comparative to the sabre-toothed tiger jumping up in the cartoon) was the same. I found that fascinating, especially as the ending theme’s line “…cat will stay out for the night” could be interpreted as remaining unconscious (asleep) throughout the sleep cycle.


    7. Buying Flowers, Barefoot, with Rolls of Quarters

      by , 09-13-2003 at 03:13 PM
      Morning of September 13, 2003. Saturday.



      It is Zsuzsanna’s birthday and I am buying her red roses and white lilies with rolls of American quarters. (This is illogical as it should be Australian coins.)

      While at the checkout (where at least one unfamiliar female cashier is present), I am somewhat absentminded and I am not certain which coins on the counter have already been given to the cashier (personified preconscious) and which are still mine to use.

      I check to see if I have dropped any quarters and I notice I am barefoot. I think about mentally willing my shoes to appear, which works for a short time. (I am only subliminally lucid, otherwise unaware I am dreaming, yet taking my will to manifest for granted. This is more likely to occur at a certain level of liminal space as there are a number of different levels of unconsciousness and dream state perception.)



      Being barefoot in a dream is usually just a subliminal carryover memory of having fallen asleep (as I do not wear shoes or socks to bed). Just because a person is unconscious or semiconscious does not mean they always lose all perception of the status of their physical body or totally forget that they have fallen asleep. To “interpret” being barefoot, or any other type of dream state indicator, despite the setting, is to ridiculously overthink it and lose focus of what a dream actually is (a thought process in real time while one does not have viable faculties).

      Being at the checkout is a very familiar form of waking symbolism. A checkout typically symbolizes the end marker of the dream state (or at least a shift in the level of unconsciousness or extent of reticular activating system activity).

      I have noticed that coins are more likely to appear in a more vivid state of awareness than notes. This has something to do with the nature of coalescence and neural energy (in real time). A gathering or cascade of coins would symbolize emergent consciousness.

      The rest, Zsuzsanna’s birthday and the flowers, are of course literal associations. Love is present regardless of the depth of unconsciousness and occasional loss of personal identity or conscious self validity.


    8. Surprise Aardvark!

      by , 09-19-1981 at 03:19 PM
      Morning of September 19, 1981. Saturday.



      Summary of meaning: It seems in this dream there was a subliminal suppression of the preconscious (in me not wanting to wake immediately). I assume this due to the checkout dream exit symbolism being sustained by the cashier not being present. This took (presumably) a book being dropped behind the counter by the unknown dream character (preconscious assumed, as this act wakes the aardvark) to activate the transformation into my emergent consciousness, as a book is a symbol for a more discernible dawning focus and utilizing critical thinking skills.



      This was a rather ridiculous dream as dreaming of talking animals is not that common for me. The location seems to be some sort of unusual atypical composite of my sister’s house (Loomis Street), the main La Crosse library, and with features of a grocery store.



      At one point, there is an unknown female near what is seemingly a checkout (though I am not sure if she is buying groceries or checking out a book - it is quite ambiguous and hard to discern all the imagery at first). There is no one at the checkout however, and she also seems to drop something behind the counter on the other side, possibly a book.

      My dream becomes much more vivid after this. A talking aardvark wanders out on four legs, from behind the counter, seemingly both complaining about people as well as talking about something he seems to find enjoyment in, wobbling off to my left and more in view at times. (It seems that what fell behind the counter possibly startled him, though there is a vague association that he was meant to be the cashier and somehow transformed.) My dream soon loses cohesion after this.



      This seems like a typical dawning consciousness dream (though with unusual emergent consciousness waking symbolism), but why did my transitional waking self (projected form) become an aardvark prior to waking? It is possible that the talking aardvark came from an association with the blue aardvark from “The Pink Panther” cartoons. Apparently, one of the names, Claude - as used by the ant according to one resource, is my first name, and I vaguely recall having seen this particular cartoon at least a couple times, thus that might be the main influence here.

      The dream exit symbolism here is based on a checkout analogy, as the dream self leaving the dream.


      Updated 08-13-2017 at 03:21 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid