Recent DJ Posts

Morning of May 11, 2018. Friday.



There is some sort of situation where an unknown older woman is at our house and demonstrating how an unrecognized cleaning machine works. She is apparently going to sell it. The house is unfamiliar but seems to be implied to have a facet of the Loomis Street house, though mostly unrecognizable as such. The machine looks somewhat like a large floor polisher but also seems to serve as a vacuum cleaner at the same time.

As she goes from a room into another room, I go in to see the condition of the floor. The “floor” at this point is actually loose dirt. I go over to check a bookcase and see that the bottom shelf is slightly blocked off by the height of the dirt floor. I reach down and I am able to take out a book on art. I consider that the floor can be evened out later.

I am then sitting in bed looking at the art book. There is conversation regarding the woman, who is talking to Zsuzsanna, having two of these machines and something about taking one back or both back and later returning with the one we are buying. I am unsure of the cost. One is secondhand and one is new.

The woman looks at my book and me and starts to make negative inferences about people who use paper or have books. This annoys me, so I make an indirect reference that implies that I think she is crazy. I make a comment about “deranged” people who are against people having books, though implying other people that I have heard this about. This makes her angry. I then say, “What about all the people who still get newspapers?” I get the impression that she thinks it is okay to get newspapers (though I remain uncertain) but not okay to have books (possibly because newspapers are recycled). The argument is not that dramatic and is not really like an argument at all. I have my book open to three photographs, one on one page, two on the other. They feature engraved images from Greece, including a light coppery one of Perseus.

There is another unknown person; a male; who may be living in the same house as the woman, who apparently lives directly across the street and stands near the front door for a short time. I get the idea that the woman will be difficult to live in the same neighborhood with and I do not fully trust her concerning the sale of the machine, though I remain mostly cheerful.

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This dream had a vague and ill-defined thread of either prescience or picking up on something around the time it was happening (with no way of me consciously knowing). In real life this morning, an unusual older woman had two mattresses and there was something about taking back a new mattress and leaving the old one in Zsuzsanna’s sister’s house. So although there was a hint of prescience or remote viewing (as is often the case) it was not correctly defined in this case.

There is an aspect of liminal dream control here, as not getting annoyed enough with the RAS modulation (the unknown woman seemingly disapproving of me) did not trigger waking and my dream was extended for perhaps ten minutes, even with the implication of picking out a book to initiate eventual consciousness, though in this case, it was an art book of which I did not see much writing. The dirt floor being higher than the bottom area of the book shelf along one wall correlates with the depth of REM sleep. The cleaning event is common and relates to the glymphatic system, of which is more active in sleeping and dreaming. The unknown male near the front door did not trigger preconscious modulation as it often does, probably because I was already in a bed (liminal awareness of being in the dream state).

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Morning of February 14, 2018. Wednesday.



By way of liminal dream control (manipulation of the dream state without lucidity as a result of virtuous circle liminal understanding of what the dream state is), features and events in a dream can get really surreal and abstract, yet still with deep involvement of the dream self and inherent autosymbolism representing the dream state and waking process itself.

My dream’s setting is mainly in the dining room of the Loomis Street house. My dream self does not regard it as a typical wrong setting. My wife Zsuzsanna is with me (mostly remaining on my left as in our sleeping orientation). I have the task of digging up roots from parts of sections of grass to make a new garden within the floor so that only dirt remains. In this case, after spending several minutes pulling roots from the dirt of the dining room “floor”, I notice the end of a section of a miniature culvert within a hole in the ground of about four inches deep.

Snakes will come as a RAS trigger during any time period, regardless of life circumstances or the experiences of the dreamer. It is a biological process in all primates. The purpose is often simply to alert the sleeper to prepare for waking, regardless of any real threat (and often light environmental noise, or even a vague awareness of the real environment, is enough to trigger RAS mediation of this kind).

As such, when I focus on the miniature culvert, I am thinking an animal may live within, that is, that it leads to the animal’s home. I do not even consider how ridiculous the idea is for an animal to build a tiny “culvert” with human design aspects. There is something in the back of my mind, the very familiar anticipatory feeling caused by subliminal expectation of RAS mediation, a main factor of my dreams since early childhood.

I briefly mention it to Zsuzsanna. My dream temporarily distorts into my older sister Marilyn making a very brief appearance (though mostly as she was in the 1960s) and my illogical thoughts relating to whether or not she had died (though she had in real life in 2014). My brother-in-law Bob is moving stuff around that belonged to her, relating to her death, even though she had been in the house minutes before. The ambiguity of me living with Zsuzsanna on Loomis Street when Marilyn and her husband were not even living there when she died does not come into focus. This error of Marilyn and her husband occurs very often, likely because it was their last address of which I saw in real life before my move to Australia.

Eventually, my expectations are answered, and a very small grayish snake (though of various shades, including a sort of brown tone) crawls from the miniature culvert. It is only about the size of an earthworm. It eventually crawls to the kitchen. My dreaming mind is expecting this RAS mediation, but it is so weak an attempt, the snake stops moving. I am not sure if I mentally killed it or not.

Looking into the living room from the open dining room area, I see several separate longer blades of grass on the floor, about a dozen in total. There seems to be an unrealistically large table taking up much of the living room space as I am looking under it from the opposite end of the dining room. I am wondering if one of these grass pieces is actually the snake (which makes no sense as it had just been in the kitchen). The whole time, there is not much of a perceived threat and it is almost as if my dream self is trying to activate RAS again by anticipating a small snake manifesting from a grass blade. No snake appears and I eventually awake, feeling too warm (even with our fan on).

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