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I cannot remember much from the beginning of the dream and what little I recall is kind of fuzzy. Everything is coloured in shades of dark blue and black. The setting is inside a small village where the buildings are all made of wood and the entire area is surrounded by a stone wall. There is one large building in the cener of the village that looks like a warehouse and has no windows. I am exploring the villiage much like an RPG videogame and everything is in thrid person perspective. The transition from outside to inside (or vice versa) is like the survival horror game Resident Evil where everything turns black, except for the door, which slowly opens and you then advance through in first person perspective before returning to third person perspective on the other side.


I am moving through some wooded gates and doors, heading towards the large building in the center of the villiage. Whenever I see a cabinent or desk in a room or hall, I open it and search for items. I don't recall finding anything of interest before entering the large building. When I pass through the last door that will take me inside, the blue and black colouring of the dream dissapears and normal colours return, though it is still dark inside the building. Directly in front of me I can see metal frame bunk beds scattered about. There are lumps in some of the beds but it is too dark to tell if it is people or just a bunch of pillows and blankets. The bunk beds are scattered in a disorderly fashion across the floor and not in neat rows. There are a few beds that do not have a bunk and seem to have white hand knit woolen blankets on them.

I walk towards the back of the room because I can see a row of cabinets in the dim light. As I approach them the room slowly begins to get brighter, as the row of florescent lights on the ceiling high above seem to slowly turn on. As I pass by the metal bunk beds, more and more of them become single non-bunk beds and their placement on the floor becomes more straight and orderly. It becomes bright enough in the room that I can see some young adults in some of the beds, while others remain empty. All of the beds have the white hand-knit woolen blankets now.

At the row of cabinets on the back wall I find some objects when I search them. In the first I find a little glass vial filled with a clear liquid. There is a white label on the side but absolutely no writing on it. I put it away in my bag and a few cabinets down I find a syringe filled with a translucent redish brown liquid that still has the bright red safety cap over the needle. This item also has a white label on the side and is blank except for a scribble in hand writting in blue ink. The writting is two words and appears to be water damaged and faded. I cannot recall now what it said though I am sure that I could read it in the dream.

I hear people talking behind me and to the left. I turn and see a row of desks with many older teens and young adults sitting at them. To their left is a chalkboard, to their right are the misarranged bunk beds and an elderly man with wild frizzy white hair and in grey clothing is standing in front of the students, pointing to something on the wall in front of them. I put the syringe in the bag and walk over to see what they are doing. As I approach them the lights come fully on and everything is bright and washed in florescent ambience.

The elderly man turns and smiles at me and I think he looks a lot like Albert Einstein. He doesn't say it but I get the feeling that he was expecting me. There is something about him that feels "mystical" to me, though there is nothing about his outward, physical appearence that would suggest there is anything special about him. I do not know how to explain it; he was just giving off these warm, positive vibes that grew stronger the closer I was too him. The students in the desks all looked up at me and seemed to be expecting something. I looked back and forth from them to Albert in confusion, before the elderly man asked me: "Are you ready?"

I have no any idea what he means, but I say yes anyway. Albert asked me to give him my bag, saying that I did not need it anymore. When I did so it felt as a great weight had been lifted from my metaphysical body (if that makes any sense). Albert moved to the chalk board on the left side of the room and said to his students that I could show them how to fly because I used to do it all the time.

I became lucid because I realized what he was talking about (in dreams in childhood I used to fly all the time), but protested that I could not fly anymore and had not done so for years. I cannot remember what he said next but it was something about making the air below me solid like the ground. I closed my eyes and imagined an invisible platform below my feet lifting me into the air. There was a loud "crack" and a dull sensation shot from the top of my skull and down my neck as something hard hit my head. I thought for a moment that Albert had smacked my with his pointer, but when I opened my eyes I realized that I had floated up above the classroom and smacked my head on the ceiling. I was excited but also kind of anxious and scared because I felt stuck and did not know how to come down. Albert told me to do exactly what I had done to lift myself up, except in reverse. I closed my eyes and imagined a ball of light above my head and shoulders that was heavy enough to push me downwards.

When my feet touched the floor and I opened my eyes Albert asked me to hover. He said "It's easy. Use the Force." I imagined what the Force (from Star Wars) was like in my own mind, and "felt" the space between the walls, the floor, the ceiling, everything in the room and myself. When I did so, hovering was damn easy. I wanted to show off and fly across the room above the students heads but...


...the darn telephone rang and woke me up! D'oh!!! Stupid telemarketers! Who was that old guy? A dream guide? Or just a random figment of my subconscious? I really have no idea, but man, what a trip!

Morning September 25, 2007. Tuesday.



In the first part of my dream, I fly around, but sometimes in a sitting position or even sideways (as if on my side), or “swimming” very slowly in midair. I talk with an unknown woman at a bus stop as I hover in one area, but I am not sure of the overall meaning of anything she is saying, yet I pretend to understand, because she looks as if she would go from cheerful to very sad if I did not understand her. It may be something about a party, a couple names, and things I would probably not know unless I was an actual friend of hers. I get the strong impression that she is dreaming, so I figure she will wake from “her” dream when I come back from wherever it is I am going.

I meet a (unknown) man who asks me where he is. At this point, it is some sort of business building with mostly featureless long halls. I casually explain to him that he is dreaming and show him around, and also show him some tricks one can do in the dream state. I say how you can even fly in dreams. We get to the front part of the building, but he goes off to find someone to ask for street directions instead of believing my claim that he is dreaming.

When I fly back the other way, there is a fairly strong wind. I still manage to get through it by taking different positions (and at one point I am literally sitting in midair waiting for the wind to change slightly) and when I change my position so that I am standing but leaning a bit forward (still in midair), I start musically vocalizing Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” (with “da” intonations) in a semi-sarcastic way to the people that are walking and at bus stops.

The unknown female is still waiting at the bus stop and says hello to me again. Later on, I am at my sister Marilyn’s house in the United States. Someone puts several both small and large envelopes through the mail slot (on the porch). The name on the envelopes (all the same) is not one I am familiar with. It is seemingly a girl’s name I do not recall. Just a little later, there are two shadows at the door. I am thinking that they are either police detectives or underground gangsters, which seems to be the same concept in-dream. I am thinking they are here to claim the envelopes (some of which seemed thicker) even though I was thinking of seeing what was in them.

They turn out to be a landlord from years back (in Australia), and oddly, Forrest Tucker (who died in 1986), in his persona from the original “Ghost Busters” television show from the 1970s. They are both dressed exactly the same, in 1940s gangster-style suits, but with extra-tall hats. The landlord (who lost his property to the bank to some sort of apparently legal “funny business” against him) asks if I still have the key to one of his properties. I do (false memory) and go and get it for him. Forrest adds to the concern by telling me to hurry, as it seems the landlord must go in and get something that belongs to him before the new owners get back (in real life, he had lost all he owned that was at the property as well).

After that, there is something about drinking a bottle of whiskey with my wife Zsuzsanna. I find a bottle of whiskey and a couple other types of drinks in the house. (Neither of us ever bought alcohol in our life other than me buying shots of brandy at a tavern once a week when I lived in America when cashing my paychecks at the Red Lantern for less than a year.) I pretend to be drunk, somewhat similar to the style Foster Brooks (note “Foster” and “Forrest” have the same letters), but not as extreme. I actually seemed to have gotten the bottles from Foster Brooks in some sort of birthday celebration, which is not for a couple months yet. I do not contemplate the obvious confusion of Forrest Tucker with Foster Brooks until after I am awake.

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Looking up information on Foster Brooks, I see that he died on the twentieth of December, which is my birthday - something I do not remember focusing on before at any time.

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There is a large three story house on the side of a dark hill (I don't know why the hill was dark, it just was). People are vigorously running from room to room and from floor to floor. I cannot remember why now but it had something to do with music, (like musical chairs except on a house-wide scale or something?) I kept seeing several boys from my past (including a boy I used to call Rob "Pigwater") and some men that I like now, regardless if they are real or fiction. I did not feel really connected to anyone, like they just saw through me and I was just watching from a distance.

Before all of the music and running around started, I begged my parents for my own room, because I had to share one with two people I don't know or like on the third floor. There is a small room on the third floor that is empty and hardly used and I wanted it. When I finally get the room, I do not keep it clean and this leads to a house-wide hide-and-seek or something, though I can no longer remember how.

I tire of the noise and craziness going on inside, and especially of a dark, unidentifiable man who was following me through the house, and I crawl out of the tiny window in my new room and onto the roof. I suddenly realize that I am not in my hometown of London, Ontario and I need to get back there so I can attend my theapy session when the morning comes. It is dark out and there is several hours before the sun will rise, so I am confident that I will make it.

Large, flowing white wings srpout from my back and am excited to have them, but my parents appear in a window and tell me that they don't think I'll make it and that I am wasting my time. I spread my wings and jump from the roof. While I can fly, I have trouble staying at a certain hight. I cannot seem to get above the powerlines, not because of the lines themselves, but because of an invisible force that keeps pushing me down when I try to fly at a certain hight. I am also disoriented at first and have trouble figuring out which way is west.

I try to fly so that no one sees me, but that becomes impossible when the sky begins to lighten as dawn approaches and I have to to ignore anyone who stares or hollers at me. Not long after people start to notice me flying through the air, I sense a sinister force behind me and I am forced to land in a field that has a large hole in it. I dive into the hole hoping to lose my pursuer. There is an extensive underground cave system and I run into Vincent Valentine (from FF7) while trying to navigate it. Vincent attaches something to his belt or penis (I cannot remember which now) and asks for oral sex, saying that it will give him the power to defeat the sinister presence that is chasing me.

Somewhat unsettled, I leave the cave without providing requested service and fly away. The sinister presence seems to be gone for now so I just try to enjoy gliding through the sky and feel the morning chill in the air as the sun begins to rise. Even though I am facing west as I fly, the sun is rising directly infront of me though I think nothing of it in the dream. As the sun rises, I begin to feel heavy. It becomes very difficult to fly without intense concentration on flapping my wings. I can do it, but I also become very disoriented direction wise, and because facing the sun all the time is blinding me.

I see a tall building made of golden coloured glass ahead of me. It has a very gothic, yet modern design. I sense the sinister presence getting close behind me again so I fly to the building and land on a ledge. I try to move around on the glass surface discreately, but only end up drawing more attention to myself. The people on the inside of the building gather and stare at me. Feeling uncomfortable, I fly away from there and continue towards London, though I am forced to look down a lot because the rising sun is directly in my eyes. It is at this point that I suddenly realize that the sun is rising in the wrong place. I know that I am heading in the correct direction but I am perplexed as to why the sun is rising in the west and not the east, like it is supposed to.

I finally reach London but because I am very tired, I can only fly a few metres above the ground. I end up flying underneath a steel bridge that is painted bright red, trying to avoid pedestrians and cars. Somehow I have aquired a red hardhat, though it is conveinient because I kept bumping my head on the bottom of the steel bridge.

I do not make it to the hospital for my therapy session because I am suddenly back in Toronto laying on the bed in my new room. I am trying to explain to my dad that I am going to attend my session through astral projection and I will write everything down when I return to my body, or something.

I had three short dreams on this night.


The first dream started off in my driveway with some man I do not know saying something to a blond woman I do not recognize. The woman was upset by what the man said and ran and jumped into the air. She drifted up into the air and when she did so, the environment changed from my neighbourhood to that of some sort of desert compond with lots of steep cliffs and tall watch towers - sort of like an army outpost.

The woman could only stay in the air for a few moments and she drifted from cliff to tower top as much as she could, as the man that had creeped her out before was down on the ground, making threatening gestures in her direction. He transformed into some sort of half ape, half wolf (and yet, still part human) creature that desperately tried to reach the woman, who continued to drift around in the sky to avoid him.

Soon the woman became exausted from her efforts and what ever power she had that allowed her to fly started to wear off. She started to panic as the power wore off because she started to get close the the ground and was afraid the man-monster would attack her.


I woke up at this point but I kept repeating the dream in my head, as I was determined to continue with it when I returned to sleep. The second dream I has was similar in that it took place in some sort of compound but it was more of an amusement park than an army barracks. The creepy monster man was now a bratty, bossy boy, and the woman was now a little girl.


It was the bratty little boy's birthday and he had a group of other children over to celebrate. The group of children were not too pleased to be around him as he was bossing them around and rubbing in their faces how fabulously rich he was and how he was better than then because of it. Similar to the first dream, the little boy began chasing and harassing a little girl - who desperately tried to ignore him, then to get away, but there was no where that she could get away to, and the parents of the little boy insisted that all of the other little children stay and entertain their bratty son.


I woke up again and when I feel back asleep, I did dream again, but it was nothing like the first two. I cannot remember anything about it except that there was a man, who looked like Vincent Valentine from the Final Fantasy VII franchise, talking to me about something, but I can no longer remember about what.

Morning of February 27, 2001. Tuesday.



This was a strange vivid dream of someone (unknown male) attacking me with large knives and unusual-looking seemingly ancient axes, with symbols on their surfaces, somewhat like stylized adzes. I go into the backyard of our present home (to distract him from engaging dangerously with my family in any way). He pursues, but I fly into the air fairly high with little effort. A thrown weapon then misses me. I then use some sort of in-dream “magic” by waving my hand and focusing my thoughts. This causes him to clumsily rise in the air under my control and move to a different location - and I then “release” him from his position in midair and he falls onto the hard tin roof of the house next-door and (apparently in-dream) dies.

Night of November 6, 1992. Friday.



This dream first came in 1992 (before I even met my wife), but there have been other versions, including one in 2008 which I posted on my old journal. Here are the basics.

It all starts in a perfectly innocent manner. My wife and I are dining in public in a small restaurant in what seems to be a rural area. There are not many residential houses around and much of the region seems like an isolated farming community. There are small lists of rules and guidelines everywhere (even on trees - which is somewhat of an eyesore in an otherwise enjoyable natural landscape) that give details on what a human being is allowed to do or not do by some sort of pseudo-morality of likely a single person in the region (who probably owns the most land and properties). It includes what people should eat and not eat (even what shape - for example, diagonally sliced sandwiches are not allowed because it implies “sneaking” from corner to corner as the “devil” does). Time passes and we apparently do something “wrong” although I am not sure what it is. Perhaps it is something to do with how our bodies are positioned at the table or being too close together in public (which I think is actually the case implied here). At any rate, I find myself with the power to become invisible and also send my wife (by some sort of magic) to a safer location as more and more people seem offended for no apparent reason. When I become invisible, it seems to work for a short time in evading them, but then they note my footprints and are able to follow me for a time.

For some reason, I get the impression that these people have “evil” in their hearts (while pretending others are “evil” by not following their rules in diet and routine) and are only pretending to live as a Utopian community. They chase me around (even though I am invisible) watching where I leave my footprints. However, I find myself with the ability to walk without leaving footprints and for some time, they are baffled. However, they then start dropping nets and putting up temporary barbed-wire fences everywhere they can. I run into a barbed-wire fence and drag it along behind me and they point and give chase.

Soon, though, I then have the ability to pass through solid objects and simply go wherever I want with no threat of capture. I watch the people run around pointing in random directions (never at me anymore) and fights ensue amongst themselves based on “rules” regarding how to capture and deal with someone evading their rules. This seems so ironic I start laughing and my sides actually begin to “hurt” or more like “tickle” and I almost give myself away.

I notice more houses than before. More people are called in to deal with me, the “devil” in their midst. They start shooting cannons of powder and such and throwing grenades into random locations. Every now and then, they accidentally kill one of their own group. They also start doing a revisionist history of what my wife and I were supposedly involved in while in the restaurant (which is now a landmark due to the inhuman “creatures” having been there), all completely fabricated by the town gossips. They gather around campfires telling stories of the “boogeyman” who still haunts their town. Eventually, the cannons going off all the time start to annoy me and I decide that I might just as well leave the region altogether. I then have the power to hover and fly about.

Eventually, I come to a bridge which is now no longer wooden but concrete and two-lane and covered with barbed-wire fencing and diagonally striped red and white guardhouses. I look back and notice the whole area now looks more like domed cities from “Logan’s Run” and very futuristic. Futuristic “jets” and other flying military craft are speeding across the sky and shooting at each other and many crash into residential buildings below with one explosion after another. The death toll (around 10,000) is shown on a large football-scoreboard-like structure. Apparently, all this destruction and war is going on just to find out where I am. I stand on the bridge watching. I then fly away high into the sky (as a ball of blue light) leaving them to obliterate themselves…

I am going to start with a dream that I vividly remember from when I was approximately six or seven years old. Up until I had this particular one I remember being able to fly whenever I wanted to do so in my dreams. I realize now that being able to control my flying in my dreams may have been lucidity, but everything changed with this dream:


The dream occured on the street that I live on, which is a in a quiet, tree-filled neighbourhood, but in this particular dream it seemed more deserted than quiet. I remember taking a long look at the clear blue sky and then running down the street and leaping into the air. I was expecting to just take off and fly like I had always done before without problems - but I floated for only a few seconds and then just fell back to the ground.

I became very upset and tried several more times to run and jump, but again I only floated for a couple of seconds and then returned to the ground. The more I tried the less I could fly and the more my frustration build. As I was failing at flying and becoming more and more upset, the sky filled with huge, dark grey thunderclouds and the wind picked up drastically. Everything became very cold and I remember feeling very frightened - but I continued to run and jump in vain attempts to fly. I just wanted to get away.


The dream becomes fuzzy after that, but I do remember that I never did fly in that dream and I have not been able fly, or have any such control like that, in my dreams since then.

Morning of December 21, 1969. Sunday.



In my dream, I am in the playground of West Elementary School (which I attended in real life at the time). I find myself with a book, which may be “Our World Today: Europe and Europe Overseas”, which is what I had been thinking about prior to sleep. (This was a very old textbook, for a higher grade, of which had not been used by the school in years and of which my teacher gave me after I read the word “banana” when it was hyphenated to the next line. I was thankful, but saw her act as a bit peculiar.) Later in my dream, I sense that it is a book of fairy tales or perhaps the Holy Bible (though it is not thick enough to be the Holy Bible). (This association was prescient, as I received a Holy Bible as a birthday gift from a friend of my mother’s, which arrived a couple days after my birthday. Otherwise, there is an influence from an episode of “The Jackie Gleason Show” seen prior to sleep, where he, as the Poor Soul, was whisked away to fairlyand.)

After I hold the book for a time, while sitting on the concrete bench in the northwest corner of the playground, it pulls me into the air. I feel vaguely dizzy and experience an atypical flight, which is a sustained awareness of liminal space (although I am only semi-lucid). I go high into the sky and then swoop to the ground a few times while holding onto the book.

Eventually, at least three classmates are hanging on in a ladder-like form, that is, each additional student hanging onto the ankles of the one above them. Toby is one of them as well as Tina, and then Bobby. At one point, I notice it seems to be just before sunrise, although there is enough daylight to discern some detail. Eventually, I deliberately fly up, and out of the dream state in the manner of which I had exited many dreams. In this case, I had tried to hold onto the book in order to wake up with it, but I woke while gripping my pillow.

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When I was very young, I occasionally had an absurd notion of pulling items out of my dreams, primarily books and coins, though only while still in the dream state and only in partial lucidity.

As I grew older, I began to understand part of the reason for this. Both books and coins more distinctly represent emergent consciousness factors (though for entirely different reasons) and both change in appearance in dreams (often into surreal nonsense) after looking at them again due to the dream state being an illusion. Reading text in a dream is possible, as I have often read in dreams, but the text typically changes when looking at it again and typically becomes unreadable gibberish when my dream self’s imaginary visual clarity increases toward waking. In the case of coins, I learned it was an attempt to stabilize my emergent consciousness, both in the concept of coins gathering (coalescence factor, because when one starts dreaming, memories begin to distort and separate so that the conscious self identity is no longer extant until the waking transition) to become whole again (such as a one-dollar bill). Additionally, the heads on coins are static (unmoving), which represents the dream self’s absence of perceptual viability and intelligence.

This dream is mainly a result of vestibular system ambiguity, which occurs in over twenty percent of the tens of thousands of dreams I have studied and resolved since early childhood. While unconscious and entering the waking transition, being horizontal in bed is in biological conflict with the misperception of the dream self, which results in an infinite variety of features and events associated with flight, falling, and rising. Over the years, through understanding the nature of the dream state, I have learned to maintain subliminal awareness in dreams that are otherwise not viably lucid, and I often effortlessly take to the air in dreams instead of walking (though the dream self has no physical body unless it wants to). Additionally, the human ladder is redundant autosymbolism (as to flight triggered by natural vestibular system ambiguity) as it also represents leaving the dream state (climbing back to the state of consciousness).

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Resupplemented on Thursday, 8 February 2018.

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Morning of December 21, 1969. Sunday.



I am in the high school auditorium (which was used for entertainment for students grades one to five, the elementary school being the next block over from the high school) and there is a large marionette stage of the kind where a square window opens at the front, near the top, to reveal a clown face during intermissions (while the stage was changed for the next act of the story), who talked about the events of the story. (These were excellent and detailed productions, my favorite being “Pinocchio”.)

Although other schoolmates are present, I end up focused on Tina, who puts her hands over her eyes and says, “I’m dreaming”. My dream self not fully considering what she had said, I still end up floating in the air and slowly flying toward the stage. I notice the head at the top is more like a Greek bust. Instead of a marionette stage, I then seem to be in a television studio, with some distorted (incorrect) scenes from “The Jackie Gleason Show” of the previous night. I am somewhat wary as I do not want to draw attention or interrupt the filming of the show even though I am semi-lucid.

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I eventually learned that a stage was autosymbolism for being in the dream state, typically in semi-lucidity or apex lucidity. Flying (as well as falling or other movement) is a biological result of vestibular system ambiguity in unconsciousness. Over one in five of my dreams involve flying or flight symbols. (On a side note, the belief that falling dreams evolved out of primates naturally developing this as an alert factor based on falling out of trees, thus being possible prey, is actually pointless, since the vestibular system would naturally trigger this anyway by already extant biological design, inherent ambiguity of the same factor as flying dreams.)

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Resupplemented on Thursday, 8 February 2018.

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Night of December 13, 1969. Saturday.



Ralph the Carpenter from “Green Acres” (played by Mary Canfield) is in my room in the middle of the night. She needs to do work on my bed (obvious dream sign) but which is also a wooden airplane (flight symbol and typical autosymbolism for vestibular system correlation) that apparently flies. She apologizes for waking me after I absentmindedly look up at what sounds somewhat like hammering. The boards are at different angles including several over my head but apparently my airplane is still okay to fly. She says something about the school bus (or catching the school bus) at one point (even though it is the weekend - which I try to recall the nature of in the back of my mind) and something about my cat Snowball. Soon, I am aware my bed is flying - with not that much concern (or focus) over her probable incompetence, though that is only a very loose association as I do not feel much movement and I am seemingly still in my room in the same position. I hear a soft engine which sounds in the distance (or underneath me and not very loud) though it is somehow meant to be “my airplane” of which I am supposedly in. I am not doing anything (that is, I am not acting as a pilot) even though my “airplane” has eventually supposedly gone a far distance. I am in bed as I was, with my eyes closed wondering where I am going. There is the typical essence of indoor-outdoor ambiguity (somehow being simultaneously indoors and outdoors).

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I explain this dream type further in “Dreams of Type PRECONAV-VSCPCEL, 01-15”.

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Night of November 16, 1969. Sunday.

Dream #: 1,063-02. Reading time: 1 min 18 sec.



In my vivid dream, I am riding my school bus in the morning, but I soon notice that it is now an airplane. I realize this because of the unfamiliar bird’s eye views that I observe and enjoy. I am seated in the middle of the right side, closest the aisle. There is a feeling of comfort and security as I remain passive to my surroundings.

This “airplane” continues to maintain the appearance of the inside of my school bus. The “pilot” or “bus driver” is on the left as with my school bus. He is focused and does not turn to look back at any of my classmates at any time.

Based on my views primarily through the front windshield, we seem to be going downward at one point at about a forty-five-degree angle though there is no wariness or fear. Mostly, there are scenes of ancient Greece, including the Oracle at Delphi and the Temple of Athena Nike. The imagery causes an eerie essence as if I am traveling back in time or at least seeing images of the distant past.

There are only a few other students on board, and I do not recall seeing anyone I know. I remain unsure who the pilot is. Though he is in a formal outfit and wearing a cap, my real-life school bus drivers never wore a uniform. (I do not recall waking from this dream, which seemed to be in the middle of the night.)

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It became typical for me to imagine that I was riding in something other than my school bus when going to school, such as an airplane, rocket, train, a machine that chopped all the trees down along the way (after seeing “The Lorax”), and so on.

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This dream was before I maintained a consistent use of “opossum” (family DiDELPHIdae) in my ceremonial identity (and eventual Internet username) and the spiritual link with dolphins (family DELPHInidae). I was surprised to find “Delphi” in both.

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Morning of May 23, 1968. Thursday.

Dream #: 521-2. Reading time: 35 sec.



My dream renders a scene from “Peter Pan.” A schoolmate, Tina, is walking the plank on a pirate ship. I think the pirate captain making her do this is a teacher from our school, though he is unknown to me. He stays mostly in the background. However, when she falls (after being pushed by the tip of a sword), she does not land in the water. She had been caught and carried off to safety by a magical force, creating a mysterious mood, with me being responsible, though my direct corporeal presence is not in the scenario.

Later, I fly around above my town on my own, mostly in the dark, over various boats and buildings, including my school.

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Rescuing Tina from falling into the water is a typical vestibular system adaptation process. As a result, rather than experiencing the falling start, I begin flying around.

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Morning of November 3, 1977. Thursday.



This was one of the only times a dream seemed to be interrupted by a different dream in an atypical, somewhat startling fashion. I was in one dream and then another dream “broke into it” like a radio broadcast very suddenly “drowning out” another with a completely different degree of awareness.

My second dream was much more vivid than the first (and with growing lucidity). In the first dream, I seem to be at a television studio yet not fully present (not disembodied, just not directly in the environment), the ceiling being about twelve feet high. The New Mouseketeers, all dressed in plain white clothes, seem to be involved in some sort of unlikely science-fiction movie or televised special (perhaps live) but they are also dancing on roller skates and moving past the camera several times without the camera panning in any way. When I look around, I mostly see very large white cubes, almost like steps (but too tall to use as steps and about three cubes high closest to the walls), but possibly containers. It seems fairly dark and isolated in some areas of the huge building (but not completely dark in any areas) and the otherwise featureless warehouse-like setting. Their dancing, motions, and singing (which I think the main line or title is “The World’s a Balloon”) becomes slightly annoying (almost perceived as bizarre) though they seem to be getting a bit more enthusiastic and practiced in their performance, almost frenzied in fact, but in a comedic sense.

Suddenly, there is a clearer awareness of mood and location that jumps like a needle on a record and I am in a different dream flying over Key West almost as if I had been plucked from one dream (of a completely different level of clarity and awareness) and put into another. Even the depth perception seems quite different and somewhat enhanced. A very long bridge stretches out over the ocean as I watch the cars move over it as I fly along. It is extremely vivid though the ocean is a deep purple. Everything else looks normal including the sky. Dreams do have a tendency to jump from scene to scene in some cases, but this was actually like a different type of experience, like actually “changing channels” and a quite different mental awareness at the same time.

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Morning of September 22, 1974. Sunday.

Dream #: 2,834-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



My dream self becomes aware of imaginary kinaesthesia (as a result of vestibular system ambiguity during sleep atonia) before the illusion of riding in a vehicle begins to compensate for my status of being in REM sleep. (There is no “interpretation” in this as it is how my dream originates.)

I am riding in the back seat of a taxi on Highway 17 in Florida in the late morning. It is going south to Arcadia instead of north to my home in Cubitis.

The driver is an elderly black male (who had driven the taxi I had taken in real life a few days previously except that it was to ride home from school).

The overpass crumbles and collapses when the vehicle is at the highest point, and the taxi plummets.

However, as a result of being aware I am in the dream state, I simultaneously phase through the roof of the taxi and fly above the scene without concern. As I look at the setting below, the overpass has become rubble. The landscape seems miniaturized, and the taxi is now the size of a Matchbox Car. This viewpoint is not a result of flying high above the scene, as the distance is seemingly minimal.

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PRECOGNITIVE: Despite this dream resulting from the usual sleep atonia to myoclonus compensation, they dynamited this overpass on October 25, 1988, in real life, and removed the rubble. (Construction began in 1937. See the image if available.) I left Cubitis in 1978 to live in Wisconsin.

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Saturday, 26 June 1971. 1,650-M2. 48 second read.



I soar through the blue sky alongside an American black vulture, but I am unwary.

He flies on my left until he dives. I expect him to attack the townspeople below. (There is a vague association with Shakespeare’s “King Lear.”)

The mood becomes cheerful. The “palace” far below appears to be the DeSoto County Courthouse. I hear people cheering and see a ticker-tape parade.

I see people carry the vulture down the building’s outer steps in a palanquin, as he immediately becomes their king. “Pomp and Circumstance” (“Graduation March Song”) plays.

I zoom in. From the left, I see the vulture sitting inside the palanquin. The bird has knees like a human instead of bird legs and wears a crown.

I rise into the blue sky as I wake up laughing aloud.

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Note: People called vultures “buzzards” when I lived in Florida, thus my original title.

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My dream begins with the physiological influence of vestibular-motor sensations (from REM atonia). It changes from spontaneous vestibular-motor responses to controlled and more defined.

The vulture’s flying and diving transitions to his non-flight (becoming more human-like) and descending a staircase.

A crown appears with increased dream state awareness. It reveals higher metacognitive management of the dream state.

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