I’m at some club (I don’t ever see its name, but I think it’s One Up). I’m with some others, but I’m not sure who. At the entrance I give the bouncer my ID, though it seems like he wasn’t going to ask for it. We are the only ones in here. The space is small and each wall is an overwhelming LCD display of moving neon, psychedelic patterns. There is talk of going to get high and I think I’ll join, imagining how the walls will look. Outside now, it looks like a bland strip mall and I see someone familiar. He is moving some doors. I go over to help him, screwing two doors together and screwing the bottom of the door? After I finish, I realize I’ve done it backwards, so I tell him I’ll have to start over. It seems like he is waiting on me.
The dream scene changes to my old townhouse home and I could tell from the outside light piercing through the window. That it was either morning time or late afternoon. All of a sudden I was startled behind me and notice the bathroom door close by itself. I focus my sight towards it questioning if it I had really moved on its own or not. Then it did it again in front of my eyes and I question what's going on. I came to the door and inspect it and look to see if anyone was behind it. No one was there, I became lucid and realize this has to be dream. It felt solid and real but I knew this must be a true. I continue walking and once I felt fully lucid I attempted to phase through the window. Both times failed so I simply open the front door and left myself out. I began walking up the road and notice a store with a bunch of people hanging around it. They were observing me and I went up to it and interact with the locals. I could feel a pain in my leg as this feeling grew stronger, I realize it was coming from waking life and figure oh well I'll wake up to see if I'm sleeping improperly as last time I had a sore neck for sleeping in a bad position. I wake myself up.
Bizarre but nice adventure-like dream It starts out on the view of a sort of maze-like structure. It appears to be floating in a pitch-black, destructive void, and only anything within the maze is safe. The colors within are weird, it's like everything you can see is just something like digital edge detection, where only some edges are white or dimly colored, and everything else is just pitch black. The geometry is also unstable, and it appears that sometimes, if you walk into a wall, you just go through it and disappear into the void, so you have to try to just stay on the paths. At some point, I appear to be on a wall, and it's paper-thin, yet unbreakably hard. Then I am at a door within the maze, and it's the only part where there is any normal color and geometry. It's blue and decorated with what appears to be runes or some sort of other symbols. It's like the door in Snowdin from Undertale, where one can fight Glyde. Then I am there with a friend, and it appears we can find treastures behind it, but there is some danger associated with it. We have a sort of key and as we approach it, a sort of cutscene plays where it just swings open, with only blackness shown behind it. Then we're behind it, and it looks like Waterfall from Undertale, but the layout is totally unrelated. We're walking through lots of water in a narrow and rather linear tunnel, with the colors being the usual from Waterfall: blue-purplish walls, blue water. I'm in a sort of 2D view, and I see that, behind the walls bounding the tunnel, there is only that same void that was outside of the maze. We walk along it, my friend being quite a bit faster than me, and at some point, we find a wooden chest with gold lining and open it. Out of it seems to jump some type of items, only one of which I really saw, which was a sort of long, white and modern looking gun. I imagine using it, and it appears that this is now related to Terraria, as I think about fighting a Terraria boss with it. I try to pick it up by walking against it, but it only responds by sliding away, so I try to "press a button" (not sure how or what actually happened when I tried it). I don't know if I managed to pick it up in the end, but my friend alarms me of the fact that we might be chased by something. I get really anxious, and my friend responds the same, so we run away towards the maze as fast as possible, now in a 3D view, with things being sort of translated to a Minecraft-like look, along with how I and my friend look. I find that double-pressing "W" makes me run (and gives me an effect sort of like the Hermes boots from Terraria) and I manage to run faster than my friend. Wow. That was some great recall. The dream also had a strange feeling associated with it, especially in the dim, empty tunnel. It's like it was too silent, and there was just something wrong or missing, which evoked this scared but interesting feeling.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening[/B] Carla, her mom and another neighbor are at my mom's hallway discussing something. My mom's front door is not well closed and is banging whenever they lean against it. I go shut the door better and they hear me and call for me. They say they tried to catch Magano on the street because they want to adopt the cat. They hope we can help. I sort of feel powerful and I walk around with total confidence in my awareness, then I float and also feel like changing my clothes to a long medieval dress. Then I spot some buddhist monks leading people to a venue and I follow them with curiosity. Find out they are a bunch of con artists pickpocketing people while entertaining people with tricks. I try to disrupt their act with my magic but it doesn't work out, I try to warn some girl but she gets mad for bothering her. I get out but later find these artists at an hotel lobby with their bags packed. I confront them and some of them get away with the bags through service stairs while others try to intimidate me to leave them alone. But I follow them, one attacks me and fails. End up in a underground garage or warehouse where dozens of bandits are waiting for me to kill me. I fight and escape them all, but there is one I find really cute and as we fight we also flirt each other. Instead of hurting him, I steal a kiss from him. In the end, my magic finally kicks in and they surrender to me and become my devotees.
Monday Night, 4/27/20 I was playing in the ocean along with one or two companions. "Come on!" I said, rushing headfirst into the water, swimming as fast as I could. I was half experiencing, half simulating the ocean waves. Upon realizing there were no large waves crashing over me, I began to expect them which then led to their creation and my experience of having large waves tumble me about. The part of me that was scared was drowned out (no pun intended) by my overall sense that I was perfectly safe. A female friend came along with me past the large waves. We were then rapidly pulled far out to sea where the waters became deep and calm. My mind offered up a couple practical concerns. Aren't you worried about dangerous sea creatures the longer you're out here? How far off is land on the other side of this ocean? Won't you get tired of swimming and drown? I decided it was best not to think of dangerous sea creatures. I should simply focus on not splashing around too much. As to getting tired, I found I was able to easily swim at a fast pace with barely any effort. Later we transitioned to walking and gliding along the surface of the water. As night approached, the Narrator said that we would need a place to rest for the night. A dark blue door with orange trim around it appeared. I knew exactly what it was the moment I saw it. I opened it and we stepped through, into my room. Inside it was arranged a little differently than waking life, with bunk beds and a couple random piles of blankets, pillows, and sheets laying around, but it was still fully recognizable. I also found there was a second door which I could open to the rest of the house. I walked around in the upstairs hallway then went back into my room again. Strange. I thought, while my friend just seemed obsessed with playing in the blanket pile and rubbing her face against the pillows. I opened the blue door once again to see that, indeed, it still led right out to the middle of the ocean. "You can change where the door leads." The Narrator informed me. I closed the door and reopened it to try it out. It no longer led to the ocean, now it led to a random room. I closed it for good this time and prepared for sleep, though I don't think I actually did fall asleep. Spoiler for Additional Notes: This one was so close to becoming a lucid dream. I had the awareness of dream control abilities, noticed the oddness of what I was observing, and then there was the presence of the Narrator dropping hints. The Narrator is a disembodied voice that shows up surprisingly often in my dreams and I've referred to it as my subconscious in the past. I'm starting to notice a clear pattern where it shows up when I'm either lucid already or I'm very close to becoming lucid. The ocean is another pre-existing dream sign of mine that's been showing up a lot lately. My relationship to the waves in dreams has gone through an interesting progression over the course of 20+ years of having those recurring dreams, but that's a post for another time. Apparently I'm plunging headfirst into them now.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid FA / AP Picking up toys, like bikes and cars, from the side of the road, that some people threw away. But a lady tells me one of the cars I picked up is actually not tossed away, belongs to a kid who just happens to leave it outside after playing with it. I apologize and promise her to take it back as soon as possible. As we are standing at the front door of someone, a guy approaches and points to a bag on the floor with two postal packages inside, apparently just forgotten there. He asks if he can take it and we find suspicious, so we check the names of the recipient. My neighbor says she knows the person and will make sure the bag is delivered to her. The guy is insisting on taking it himself and we say no. He eventually leaves. Meet Zilla and some other friends, they go to a snack-bar to eat something. They are regulars there. The managers are two alternative-looking girls, but the place looks very conventional. I study a poster on the wall, showing homemade biscuits with either caramel or strawberry jam and I feel like trying it. But I stay at the door, cause I am in a hurry and don't wanna sit down. Then my friends order some soups and they demand to the managers to have a free soup everyday for this group, since they are regulars and very good clients. I am interested in a free soup, so I then join them, pretending I have been part of this group of customers since ever. They know I am not, but they are really nice and offer me a soup anyway. It is very comforting.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening It's night, the light in my garage turns on and I take a peak through the window. I see a guy inside my fence, by the gate near the pine tree. I can tell he is Asian and is wearing sunglasses, which is bizarre. I knock on the window and make a face like " hey, what are you doing here?" and he runs away, exiting through the gate. I get out and go after him. As soon as I turn on the road after my house to follow him, there is a building and he goes up a central staircase, many stories high. I look up to spot him but soon I lose him because there are many other people going up and down. At my mom's. She is in the bathroom and I am in my old bedroom. I feel an itch on my legs and realize I have a few infected pores. As I watch it closely, more and more pores are getting weird, purplish, engorging, becoming furuncules. They grow so large, they become like mushrooms. I pop some of them. It is disgusting. [COLOR="#FF0000"]But I realize I am dreaming. So just for fun, I turn the mushroom furuncules into flowers. At first it is not so easy to do it, but once I get the gist, I enjoy a wave of all types of flowers in all the colors of the rainbow, sprouting through my skin and blossoming and then giving way to other flowers. It is ticklish, I really feel them bursting out and growing, it is a strange and wonderful sensation. Also it is so incredibly beautiful to watch. As a final touch, I look to the palms of my hands and visualize a lotus flower blossoming in each of them. They do appear, one white lotus in each hand, first the leafs, then the flowers opening. Then I feel so light and glowy and I naturally start floating. I want to cross the wall and fly away but my mom calls for me and I turn back, because I don't want to scare her, even if it's in a dream. On the hallway I find my friend Belchior instead of my mom. He smiles at me, doesn't say a word and I realize there is nothing keeping me here. I keep floating on air and I feel like I am expanding in size. The ceiling can't contain me. I cross through the wall and ceiling and I am floating outside. Not like flying with effort or conscientiously, just standing weightless in the air. I can see my feet. Then I see a golden throne set up in the middle of the street in front of my mom's building. I float towards it and notice a golden Buddha statue which I touch and then I am inside four walls. It is an all white and gold room, marble floors and walls, rich golden curtains and sofas and beautiful big Buddha statues everywhere, in gold or white stone, in Tibetan, Thai and other styles. There is a panoramic window to a garden outside and passageways to other rooms. An Asian man comes in in servants clothing and welcomes me. Then a few ladies also appear, with foods to serve or just offering their services. I am a bit overwhelmed and then two beautiful cats come strutting in my direction. This feels like heave and I feel that I could stay here forever and just be pampered. But why and for what? Then I wonder where this servants come from? Do they have a life and a family? Why do they work for me? Do they suffer? I can't accept having servants. I could not enjoy paradise. I go outside to the garden. There is a glass wall separating it from some corridors that go around it and where normal people are circulating and going somewhere. I spot a girl I seem to know and I have a dejá vu. I feel like I have been here before and have seen that girl before in that exact place, but in a somewhat different situation, one in which I was her equal. But now I am separated by a wall, in a garden with waterfalls and she looks lonely and sad. I do something that breaks the separation and now they all can see me and come inside the garden. I try to talk to the girl, but it becomes quite chaotic with people talking in groups, mingling and hanging out. There is one one dude going around imitating a cow mooing. At some nice Portuguese town, on a break from some professional training I am attending but which I do not care about at all. The lady that usually assists me at the parish council, sees me and comes talk to me about how good this training is and professional opportunities that might arise from it and I'm like "oh c'mon, I dont give a shit about it and I am not even staying 'till the end". She is a bit shocked. I go to the next door, which is a clinic of sorts and check their vending machine at the entrance for some snacks. Also at the entrance are a few patients freaking out because the electronic system that registers the patients is down and they can't get to their appointment. I calm them down and I feel compassion for them and somehow I create the conditions for the system to be fixed. Then outside again I see Rinpoche coming down the street with the usual entourage and I bow down as he passes by. He enters the next door and some people enter after him and close it behind, while others stay outside guarding the entrance. I feel bold and uninhibited and I say to them I'd like to go in. They say definitely no and then they also go inside and shut the door again. So I put my hand through the door and I hear them freaking out. They still don't open. So I just cut out a hole on the door with my fingers so I can look inside. Rinpoche is in another room deeper inside. I finally manage to go inside so they let me sit at a desk alongside other people waiting for a chance to meet Rinpoche.
As usual, I find myself lucid in a dream without being able to remember how it happened. I am on a stage, a raised platform at one end of a tall, rectangular room with no windows and a door at the far end—picture a racquetball court and you’ll have a pretty good idea of the layout and size. The area where I am is lit while the area where the audience is sitting is darker, with some light shining in from the doorway. I’m singing up here and simultaneously trying my hardest to get my bouzouki to show up so I can accompany myself on it. I look around the stage area periodically, whenever I get the chance, but it just doesn’t seem to be turning up. I notice a couple guys in the audience heading for the door. Annoyed, I will them back to their seats, but they seem to sense what I’m doing and bolt. Oh, well. In the meantime, though, my efforts to materialize myself some accompaniment seem to have paid off. There is now an array of stringed and fretted instruments in the center of the stage, a dozen or so, leaning against stands or lying on chairs. Many of them are exotic instruments I don’t recognize, and unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a bouzouki among them. I settle for the closest match— some kind of lute, judging by the angled neck and larger body. Maybe I can intend it to have a string configuration I can work with. I pick it up and sit down in the chair it was on to play. I was singing “Greensleeves” before, and so I start again from the beginning, this time accompanying myself. Alas, my love, you do me wrong To cast me off discourteously… This is more like it. It seems to work best if I don’t focus too much on what I’m doing with my hands and let it take care of itself, like a spot of localized non-lucidity. Partway through the song, though, I find myself in another room—there seems to be a small memory gap, but I’m guessing this was a false awakening I managed to identify as another dream straightaway. This room is very similar to the one I was just in—it could be the same one if not for the lack of a raised stage area and the fact that there is now a door where the opening was. It’s a metal door painted bright green. The room is empty apart from a mat on the floor which is furnished like a bed. Looking at it stirs faint memories of sleepovers with friends—nice memories, ones I haven’t thought about in a long time. Much of the wooden floor is covered by a rug patterned with dragons—the Asian sort—in red, blue and green. As I look at it, they move and shift in mesmerizing ways, and the perspective flattens a little as the rug occupies my field of vision. I think to myself: I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming. I don’t want to get so absorbed in it that I lose awareness. I look away to consider the door and what might be beyond it. Thoughts come to me—memories, almost, if I took them more seriously—of rooms and people beyond. But that’s a rather serious-looking door. I wake up. (11.7.18)
Morning of January 28, 1994. Friday. In the continuation of my lifelong focus on establishing a higher understanding and control of the dream state and to vivify settings and experiences, dream control becomes a viable factor. (On the 1 to 5 scale, I am about 80% lucid until the last scene, where I become 100% lucid, and additionally lucidly omnipresent in becoming the dream state itself and my dream is greatly vivified. However, dream control and lucidity are unrelated as, through the virtuous circle effect and lifelong knowledge of autosymbolism, I liminally modulate many of my dreams without my dream self being aware I am dreaming.) It results in a setting that is much like Daisy’s first-floor apartment (yet also has an ambiguous association with the owners’ downstairs living area of the King Street boarding house). (Daisy was an elderly lady that my mother knew. We used to go to her restaurant and have hamburgers when I was young. We also visited her first-floor apartment of which was part of a commercial building near the middle of town. She had a sister who ran a record store where I got all my 45s when growing up.) Borrowing the concept of the three witches from “Macbeth”, as well as Wendy the Good Little Witch’s mean aunts - especially as an older vivid childhood dream had been influenced by them (and I often like to borrow content from my older dreams to develop a greater clarity of mind), I willingly set the plot in motion. The witches are more like Halloween witches, though more realistic as reasonable people than in movies or television (or comic books). There is a vague association with Daisy and her sister for two of them, but they do not have their identities. The landlady of the King Street boarding house also seems partially borrowed for the persona of the third. Despite the setting being modeled after Daisy’s apartment in Florida, it actually seems to be located in La Crosse, Wisconsin in my dream’s final scene. There is a white door (of which did not exist in real life in either facet of the composite setting) in the north wall of the living room. This is my challenge. In opening it, I will supposedly face “my greatest fear” (that is, my greatest possible dream-related fear, not a real life association) according to the information given by the three witches. They also say it is to be my greatest challenge. There is an atmosphere of sustained respect and intent. Meanwhile, the witches seem to be sewing and knitting things from spiderweb, including a sweater and larger afghan or shawl. They mostly take turns sitting on a couch that faces east. Eventually, I go to the door (oriented to the left of their courch, though slightly west of it so that one would have to turn about to their left to see it on the north wall). I am wondering how I will (instinctively) react. I am wondering how the witches will respond to how I react. When I open the door, my dream vivifies rather than serving as typical doorway waking autosymbolism. I open the door and walk through and suddenly find myself enjoying a sweet breeze and immediate “rush” of clarity and very pleasant and soothing summer sounds, as if I had stepped into a different dream and different level of unconsciousness. I am on the south side of the street in the 900 block of Main Street in La Crosse (a block north of the King Street boarding house even though it seemed I had just been on the first floor of that building, though again, also ambiguously modeled after Daisy’s apartment as part of the composite). The historical Christ Episcopal Church (of La Crosse) is off in the distance to my left. I hold a vague awareness of wondering if I will see my lifelong “dream girl” (precognitive identity of Zsuzsanna long before we met in real life - and she had made contact with me in real life in March of 1994, about two months after this dream). Nothing happens after this and no one else is around other than a few unknown people in the distance. It seems to be morning (even though the prior situation seemed to be taking place in early evening). I stand there enjoying the warmth and clarity and feel a deep sense of peace, which remains with me as I wake. In my intentional practices since I was a toddler, to modulate the dream state with allowance for RAS modulation when biologically necessary, it can easily be determined why RAS was passive here as the three witches. I was already on my way to what would otherwise be doorway waking autosymbolism, though there was no aggressive waking alert factor. Over time, this has remained a factor of both lucidity and liminal dream control, yet I was completely open to facing “my greatest fear” and this is how my dream naturally turned out without attempting to modulate the outcome as in many past dreams.
I am in a non lucid dream, playing basketball with people I do not know. We play for a good awhile and then something that resulted in a school assembly happen. I did not know what was happening but it seem like people were celebrating for the students. I drop the basketball and decided to get in line with the rest of them. One guy talk about his son and how he was almost involved in a murder but now has change his life around. I didn't really understand anything around me, but I had this intense desire to continue playing basketball and this was ruining it. I eventually woke up out of it and could see only black. My eyes were closed and I decided I was a bit tired to get up so I let them stay that way. Before I knew it I was in a dream again when I opened my eyes. My front door was slightly opened, suggesting that someone must've been inside. I could then hear my mother voice and realize that she is an my apartment talking with my father. This can't be happening, I knew I had to be dreaming and woke up soon after.
The dream begins with a line floating in midair, semitransparent with a pinkish fringe to it—a little like an ostrich feather. I compress it down to a point and store it away somehow. This thing has a long history behind it: back in the 14th century—there was a precise date, but I can no longer remember it—any number of these things were deliberately left out of an important document, like a charter, maybe. This was a political maneuver against the aristocracy: they were traditionally associated with it, and leaving them out rendered them invisible. That was 400 years ago—as my dream self reckons it—and nobody cares about any of that stuff anymore, but all those things have been floating around invisibly ever since. But I’ve just found this one. It’s nothing important—maybe some quirk or mannerism is all—but the workmen seem happy that it’s been brought to light again. They’re working on the garage door: that’s where we are, a garage—one that could pass for the garage in my current house, other than not having any junk in it. It’s time to see if the door is fixed: I press the button. The door comes down—a surprisingly complicated process—but in the end, some parts of it have come out of alignment. It looks like it still needs some work. 15.2.18
I was at a school with other people, can not remember what I was there for. I then found myself in my apartment and open my front door. Something felt very strange but I could not put my mind on what it was. That's when I hear a loud bang behind me. It sounded like it came from my room but I am the only one who lives in my apartment. I run out from room and saw the light from the other room in my apartment turned on and then turned off. The strange thing is I don't have room lights for the room so there's no way it could have turned on. That's when I knew I was dreaming. Both of the door's slammed shut while I was outside at the living room. I look to my room and made an attempt to open the door but it would not open no matter how much I pulled on. I began to feel heavy and I began saying you are not going to do this to me. That's when I felt a sharp pain at my stomach as I try to turn on the living room lights as they kept turning on and off. I fell to the floor and woke up feeling confuse.
Morning of January 14, 2018. Sunday. On the threshold of doorway symbolism (a door being a liminal space divider between the dream self and the conscious self), by which I always either leave the dream state or trigger a higher level of lucidity, I focus on an antique bronze lion face door knocker (lucidity stabilizer which also gives respect to the nature of RAS mediation). Placing my hand upon it, I feel a curious vibration, with a vague awareness of humming. (This is a common perception in dreams of augmented awareness.) It vibrates a bit more when I touch more of it. I feel very aware, secure, and loved. Thinking back to a vivid childhood dream, the lion head becomes a triceratops head. I consider the horns as being an odd feature for a door knocker, but it does not concern me. I move my hand over it and it recedes into the door itself (a possible influence from the pin art desk toy that our youngest son owns). I become aware of liminal space to a greater extent, the autosymbolism being a parking lot (a very common liminal space marker for me since childhood). I see a large metal model of a triceratops in the area. As I focus on it more deliberately, it becomes “alive” to some extent (emergent consciousness factor). It reminds me vaguely of a Transformer (Dinobot “Slug”), and speaks in a layered metallic voice (though I do not grasp the words, though I get the impression it relates to my physical body; my muscles or cells). However, without paying much notice to the waking transition, it resolves as being our youngest son, cheerfully talking about Transformers in his normal human voice. My dream brought me comfort and no dominant or aggressive RAS mediation was rendered (due to my willingness to let my dream fade on its own). (This relates to the “transformation” of the dream self back into the conscious self identity.) This dream’s autosymbolism that represents the waking process is the same theme as various past dreams since early childhood, where the RAS mediation factor, starting out as potentially threatening, transforms more smoothly into the human emergent consciousness factor. (The supposed potential “threat” is often only by implication of its form, not necessarily with my dream self seeing it as such. One example is the dream where I had a passive pet tiger that eventually became anthropomorphic and slowly transformed into Charles Bronson who I talked to in friendly conversation, also ending near a parking lot. Another example is the dream where I stared down a lion in the living room until it became an unknown male that I had a conversation with.)
Morning of September 4, 2017. Monday. I am in our present bedroom in our house as it mostly is now. Curiously, at one point, I see that I am drinking a Frozen Coke with a straw. (I no longer drink cola in real life.) My wife Zsuzsanna, who is sitting to my left on the foot of our bed (the same orientation as we are in sleep, that is, she is on my left in our bed), had bought it. I consider possible health issues, but I decide that just this one, within a long time period, would not do that much damage to my health, and thus I enjoy drinking it (which proves that dream self “reasoning” is unrelated to conscious self reasoning). I should have seen this situation as a dream state indicator (since I would never drink a Frozen Coke in reality), yet I did not, and because I did not, the preconscious kicks in, in a typical imposer role of the exact same type (and same overall mood and level of dream state awareness) since early childhood. (This of course, is one of many reasons I have never believed in “dream interpretation” as the term is usually used, simply because I understand what dreams are and how they work.) This time the preconscious personification occurs as a young unfamiliar male, he comes into our lounge room and gazes at me from near the front door. Of course, this greatly annoys me and I get up to chase him back outside. As he goes back onto our porch, I notice it seems late at night. I jab his chest and chin with my Olympic barbell (which has no weights on it, but is my weapon of choice in many dreams), pushing him backwards. He walks out onto the street, but I shout to him that I will “get my shotgun” if he comes back. Zsuzsanna joins me on our porch. I notice a number of unfamiliar people walking in both northerly and southerly directions at the intersection in the street perpendicular to ours. I consider that there is some sort of public event going on. This may be why the unknown male ended up absentmindedly coming into our house. Without remembering that there is no door to the entrance to our porch in reality, that is, the doorway parallel to our lounge room door (front entrance), I attempt to close a wooden door. The dynamics of this otherwise solid door make absolutely no sense, but my dream self does not catch on at all. Zsuzsanna watches me as I attempt to close the door over the porch entrance doorway. I do this in the understanding that it is actually our lounge room door. This makes such little sense, it is utterly absurd, because our lounge room door is actually a few feet from the porch doorway and not even hinged anywhere in that area. Still, it does not matter to my dream self as I try it anyway. (The door actually somehow seems free-floating in one way, though still has some sort of virtual hinging at times.) I push the door to close into the right wall of the porch, but it does not quite fit. In fact, the otherwise solid wooden door bends a bit, leaving impossible curves in the top and bottom, though seems to resume its shape when pulled back out. I pull it back out and push it back in a few times, but I do not think it will serve as a viable door. I look at the items on our porch, including the dresser, and wonder if people will take something. This dream renders the waking transition as typical doorway waking symbolism of the same basic type as since early childhood. Such dreams, like many other dreams and their inherent waking symbolism, are unrelated to waking life in any symbolic sense. (I do not believe in “dream interpretation” in that sense anyway.) What about this dream relating to waking life in any way? Only my wife Zsuzsanna in this case has any connection to waking life, yet the fact we are sitting at the foot of our bed signifies that even this is a dream state indicator (symbolizing, in real time, that we are asleep). A door is typically the implied exit point of the dream in both lucid and non-lucid dreams, though a dream can also be vivified by going through a doorway or opening a door (and in fact this is one of my main ways to induce apex lucidity). This one was more illogical than in virtually countless past dreams of the same type of waking symbolism. There are probably at least two incidental reasons, one, the door pressing and crunching against the porch wall upon attempting to fully close it as was the door to my Cubitis bedroom (thus a subliminal dream state indicator relating to a “return” to bed - that is, subliminal acknowledgement that the physical body is in bed), two, the wobbliness of the door being analogous of having a heavier blanket over me at the time (as of course a blanket yields to physical movement but can be smoothed out again when a bed is made). Of course, as I have written hundreds of times in my personal journal since childhood, a porch symbolizes (in real time) higher liminal space and is unrelated to waking life symbolism other than the literal implications of what a porch is (between fictional dream self identity and true conscious self identity). Additionally, the preconscious is transpersonal and always consequently the least like the dreamer (until merging with the emergent consciousness if such is the case) or otherwise there would not be the emotional contrast required to induce waking (yet I am always astounded by people who do not understand this as this is a dream’s main function). While in some cases, the preconscious takes the form of a person the dreamer may have an actual conflict with, for me, it is often far less true, as there will be conflict with the preconscious no matter what conscious self dynamics are extant. Whether or not a person has any current conflict in waking life has nothing to do with the nature of the preconscious as many people unintelligently presume (though is but one of many of the inherent falsehoods of “dream interpretation” by way of the very common Barnum effect). If I were to “get along” with the preconscious, this would possibly sustain my dream indefinitely, which is not biologically feasible or healthy. However, when I do passively coalesce with the preconscious, which is then no longer the preconscious but the emergent consciousness, I wake anyway (coalescence waking symbolism). The only real difference used to be the coloring of mood on whether my dream had a positive or negative outcome. Since I now have a greater understanding of my dreams than ever before, that coloring of mood being potentially negative, regardless of preconscious dynamics, has lessened significantly.
Updated 10-12-2017 at 12:20 PM by 1390
Morning of May 9, 2017. Tuesday. I am in a setting which seems to be modeled somewhat after the Loomis Street backyard, though there is the typical ambiguous feeling of being indoors and outdoors at the same time. The north fence is present but higher than in real life. There are a few unknown people present. I am aware of a set of parallel walls. There are at least five or six in a row and only about four feet apart. The first wall, farther south from the real fence, is made of old stones. A couple walls are more like the inside of a house. There is some sort of sense of wanting to explore. The main scene involves an unknown male opening a door between two walls, and this event is somehow duplicated simultaneously between two different walls, and yet it is also the same man. I believe this is the first time this has occurred in a dream.
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