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I am brushing my long platinum colored hair, bejeweled with small diamonds and shades of three. Those around me became quiet and one whispered that my hair mirrored that of an archangel.

It was time.

In a rustic cabin, I have been preparing various magical concoctions- but not attaining what was necessary. Many practitioners from far away, stopped by to write their theorems on the whiteboard (I tried to read, but was unable to comprehend them- must have been semi lucid, but did not RC). I knew that one of the ingredients was milk, from water. The mother earth providing her sustenance, so to speak. But, every time I pumped the water- only water came.

Eventually, a fairy that looked just like a human came by the cabin and held the copper/brass container- it flashed. I knew this was the answer (at least hoped so...). I took the container and placed it on the ground, below the fountain. I pumped the fountain and only water came. I tried, one more time- and viola.

Milk.

I am with others somewhere else and we had to use the hair of a fairy- for armor, I believe. But, in doing so, the fairy would lose some of its power. The young fairy who blessed the container was preparing to sacrifice her hair, when another fairy arrived. A woman, I had known before. She was much older and ready to part with her hair- having lived a full life. So, she let us cut her hair.

After this the dream went elsewhere, with keys being given from the underworld to access it anytime- as those from the underworld had taken what they shouldn't have.

Morning of May 28, 2014. Wednesday.



There is a long first section to my dream where my wife Zsuzsanna and I are living in my older sister Marilyn’s house on Loomis Street. (She died this year in February.) It seems unusual that we now apparently own her house, especially as this was a rented house in real life and my sister had lived in a different house for some time after I came to Australia (though this erroneous factor occurs continuously in my dreams, as I never saw the house she had moved to after my move to Australia). I am aware of Marilyn at one point but when I look up she moves swiftly “in reverse” back to the kitchen (as if I were rewinding and resetting my dream). I notice a pile of clothes in one bedroom that belong to my brother-in-law (still alive) and my sister.

Later, I am at the front of the house. I have an old bicycle that I will be riding east down Gillette Street. At this point, I feel very good, though I am somewhat concerned about the traffic. However, there are not many cars after a time. I am able to ride the bicycle without incident. After going east down Gillette Street about two blocks, there is a (fictional) bicycle shop to my right. I still feel very good, but I think the bicycle needs to be fixed up a bit. I go into the store and have the bicycle set up near the center of the main large room so that I can work on it. The owner is behind the counter and does not even seem to notice me (until later).

I have a special bottle that resembles a small cylindrical spray-cologne bottle with a light blue tint. The liquid inside it that sprays out as a mist is virtually infinite. This has something to do with “the practice effect” in that the more I use, the more will be available and the more effective. In this case, it is a mist filled with nanobots that automatically clean, repair, and build even as they continue to improve themselves with a more and more efficient design. I spray the mist on rusty spots on the bicycle and over time, more and more of the rust is gone to be replaced by the original chrome surfaces. I spray it on the seat and the black seat takes on a copper sheen and transforms into a different shape.

The bicycle shop owner comes over with an unknown male customer and I say how the seat will now be more comfortable when riding. At this point, a bicycle seat falls onto the floor from a high shelf behind me. I point at it and say, “What a coincidence. I had just mentioned ‘bicycle seat’ and one fell from the shelf”. The other two males appear to be perplexed.

I continue to spray the mist over the bicycle and it becomes more and more newer-looking. I decide to add a headlight. I spray over the front of the bicycle and the invisible nanobots build a very nice-looking chrome headlight. There is a larger rectangular area on the bottom for a brighter light and two small eye-like squares near the top for signal lights. I also create better brakes and go back over the surface. Eventually, the bicycle, though with chrome aspects, also has copper and gold sections. I study the difference between the copper and gold nuances and I am satisfied. I notice several other features of the shop turning copper and gold over time, including parts of the shelves, checkout counter, and so on.

Eventually, the owner seems puzzled by a section of his bicycle shop, which seems to have partially expanded into a clothing store with craft store aspects more to the east. A few sections of elongated clover-shaped copper and gold felt pieces have ended up on the floor. A few other customers are walking around. It is not quite clear what he is looking at. At one point, it looks like two pieces of golden-colored felt sewn partly together with a bit of stuffing coming out. It seems like a propeller for a large stuffed toy airplane.

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This dream borrows from the science-fiction novel “The Practice Effect” by David Brin and additionally uses the typical dream ability of cleaning and improving dream features.

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For new readers or inexperienced dreamers: Something falling off a shelf is precursory symbolism representing getting out of bed, especially as it is a pillow with composite autosymbolism relating to flight. A shelf is autosymbolism that signifies being unconscious, analogous to being in bed. This dream is autosymbolic of the natural vestibular system ambiguity of REM sleep, biologically resulting in associations with falling, flight, or both. Therefore, it has no relationship with waking life or interpretable factors. An airplane is often only an autosymbolic extension of the physical body during the vestibular system ambiguity of REM sleep. Therefore, it is usually unrelated to waking life. In this case, only the propeller as a pillow is present. A pillow is a dream state indicator that represents increased awareness of one’s real environment while still in the dream state and is sometimes precursory of “The Periphery of Lucidity” as in many childhood dreams, and although my dream becomes more and more vivid, apex lucidity does not initiate. Preconscious RAS mediation remains passive here, as a checkout character being autosymbolism for exiting the dream state, likely due to my (subliminal) willingness to wake and harmonious attitude about RAS factors. In my childhood, I typified this common type of dream event as “failed flight waking symbolism”. Use of the word “failed” does not imply a negative connotation as it is a biological dynamic of waking from REM sleep. Therefore, attributing conscious self meaning or waking life meaning is unintelligent. A bicycle is also relevant to vestibular system dynamics, not as dominant as a fully featured airplane. Gold symbolizes a more viable closeness to the conscious self identity while sleeping.

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Date: 28th

Pre bed: Multivits, WBTB: some red bull

Comments: I was very sleepy and quickly reviewed the storyline so some details were lost. The dreams had some bizarre but still interesting and pleasant post wake feel to them.

Dreamlet: some granny and another woman sitting on a chair/wheelchair

Dream1: I am in my hometown and want to buy some supps – copper that is dissolved in water. It is not available where I am at the moment, so I go to a bus station and head to the nearest drugstore. On the corner is a street stall where they sell all kinds of prayer beads – malas/rosaries made of colored wood. As I am heading towards the drugstore one of the items falls down on the floor. The stall was first to my right, but as I look back it is to my left! I go back to apologize to the sellers – a man and woman sitting on the floor and tell them that I would like to look at the items when I am back. Then 3 of them and me join in some kind of a game – not so much a game. There is a white Ouija board but no letters, and some other part that we will be moving with our hands. We have to select the person who will receive the message. I am slow to react so the woman picks to be that person. I think that I should not have allowed that because this way they could easily pretend and make up some kind of message. I look at the man in front of me – I feel I have known him all along and have positive feelings towards him.

Dream2[high fragmentation and possibly separate dreams]:

I am in some kind of a building on the last floor and move through the rooms which are aligned like a corridor. In the first room are the items of some dangerous guy that is not here anymore (prison?) but it looks like a friend of mine also has access to his room and has left some notes/diaries there. I am very curious and want to read it all but someone (maybe it was her) comes in and I move along the corridor like building.

This time it is a normal corridor, very long with lots of rooms on each side, reminding me of a school. Some kind of class/event is over and I hurriedly move forward by using some kind of a button to speed up, much like running in a video game. I reach the restroom to my right, then exit it, go into one of the rooms to the left, some people I know there? Then decide to go back to the restroom and I look for the same room on the right, the second or third door, but of course it is a different room now and I am very confused. They tell me the restroom is on another floor and I head to the stairs.

On the upper floor I can see/hear some family friends. Changing my mind about finding the restroom, I want to eavesdrop and find out what they are talking about without them knowing about me being there. That doesn’t quite work as the mother discovers me and I have to officially join them. Some interaction with them and the upper floor is the last floor of the building that has been turned into some kind of observatory. There are interesting things happening as some kind of machine is activated. (Unfortunately I can no longer recall). For a moment the upper floor is like a box, there are reverse window shutters and as am I talking to the family friend I am lying with my entire body on this shutter that goes up and down in mid air, trying not to slip. Back to talking to them.

Then there are a lot of people around a table and it looks like we are playing some kind of game. I mostly pay attention to some strange item like a miniature house and some vegetable – like beans as we are playing this game. Some people miss intentionally their turn and now it’s my turn but I don’t want to play. There is some talk about it and I clarify that it is because I have no idea how to play this game, then consider giving it a try.

I am on a lower level, like an open room, on the floor or an bed and look up to the building in front of me and on the last floor or somewhere like few floors above me I see Xanous in a room. To the left of him is a woman that I conclude is his wife, blue clothes? (really not sure). I try to say something to him but he is behind a glass, in that room and doesn’t hear/understand me. There is some zooming of my vision and he gets out some signs, something written with his address and directions how to get there by car. Two street names and Junction 8. I see a map with highway and different cities aligned.

I am on the street of some unknown town and conclude that some gangstas have been stealing from clothing stores. This is triggered by the fact that I find two pairs of new jeans with labels on the street. Another street man/gangsta comes and we talk as I try to figure out whether the jeans will fit my bf. Then decide to give them to the gangsta. I notice that this pair of jeans is prohibitively expensive, something like 1267? But hey maybe it is a very fashionable model. We are now in a store and the lady that works there behaves in a commanding way. We (me and another DC) just want to allow the gangsta to try the jeans, but the lady says we need to keep our distance, what? I reply that I am leaving anyways so no need to fuss.

[warning even more strange stuff follows]

I go out on the street and go to a black lady with some small kids. My memory is a bit blurry but as I walk the surroundings are transformed as we are now having a discussion about democracy, the world, then something about the development of civilization. The sun is shining bright and as this conversation goes on I am following a muddy road in the midst of a strange field. The road is no less weird, I am supposed to be following the left side of it. The road is covered with yellow fancy dust that in my mind is bright blond hair that has been cut, but it looks like a small river of pollen tracks. I think it is sunflowers. No, it is the hair of these people. There is a row of people, items that resemble some kind of a helmet (like the ones that you put on mayan gods), it changes, they are people, warriors from the past. Now they are dead. I wonder why their hair is blond when they are black, and inspect one closely. His forehead is brown. Ancient. He is cold to the touch. I come to my senses and first of all wonder why there is no smell if they are dead? Anyways, don’t want to be stuck there in the middle of this summer/ early autumn wheat type of field as down the road there is another row of these ancient warrior soldiers lying there. I head back following the same road in this strange but still beautiful sun-lit field.