• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    1. Wednesday, April 24

      by , 05-07-2019 at 07:22 PM
      I am in what looks like a large fitting room (sort of like one in the Levi’s fitting rooms) with Dad and Makayla. The lighting is dimmer and the back wall is encompassed by a mirror and a bench. We’re standing at the entrance when I, recording on Snapchat, throw a sock into the room and watch as it is thrown back before it even hits the ground. I throw it a few more times, the same thing happening each time. Now, I seem to be on a roof of a building, on a long ledge. Dad and Makayla are down on the ground. I am asking ‘Charlie’ to reveal himself and actually bracing myself for it to happen.
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    2. 1 Mar: Lawrence of Arabia, project meeting, trapped and babies

      by , 03-01-2019 at 08:43 PM (Lucid-schizo-dreamer)
      non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening

      I am Lawrence of Arabia, female version. On a train with westerners and arabs. The train is diverted to a remote village, hijacked. We are taken along. I confront the thieves, but they present me their arguments and we end up staying there, both as prisoners and guests. The men want me and women hate me, both because I am very voluptuous and attractive. I am accompanied by two ladies who are always covering me and blocking the men's looks.

      At some strategy meeting, Clara is talking, presenting a project and asking for backup. Everybody rejects it and turns away. I am the only staying and supporting it. She gives up and rips the papers apart and goes to a bar next door. She leaves her purse and camera behind, so I grab her things and meet her at the bar, which is more like a coffee shop and other friends I know are there too with her. Somehow she is surprised that I brought her stuff. Including money she had left on the table.

      At my far, the gate is broken, some of my dogs are out. My dad is fixing it from the inside, I go outside and block it with something so that the dongs don't run away. When I turn away, I am now on an apartment of which I can't find the exit door. On the bathroom I see a ghost. It tries to lock the door and trap me, but I manage to escape.
      Some brazilian dude rings the bell and I finally find the door. He is pushing some campaign and offers me cake. wants to come inside. I say the house is haunted and he still offers to go inside and check it for me. But I choose walking out instead.

      At my university campus, some celebration with live music and tents. I am trapped under and inside one. I try again going outside but they engulf me. I fly through the ceiling, but don't get outside, just to a different place, like an office. At this office, people have their dogs and cats with them. I pet some of the animals. Then some lady has two babies and asks for my help. They are adorable. One had vomited and the other needs her eyes cleaned up. I tell the mom to go get proper cleaning products while I take care of the babies who fall asleep in my arms.
    3. 22 Feb: Meeting a lot of people and situations at an old abandoned house

      by , 02-22-2019 at 09:37 PM (Lucid-schizo-dreamer)
      non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening

      It's really early dawn and I go on foot to meet Riverstone at home, but it is totally dark, so I can't take the road down to the valley, instead I hang up at an old house on top of the hill. It's an old stone house and soon I find out it is haunted. I see the ghost of a little girl roaming around and then a couple of bad guys chasing her and she disappears down a hole on the floor to some water pipes. I find some toys stuck in there, a ball, a bunny and something else. Then I hear Riverstone's van approaching, he is going somewhere, but he stops and comes in this house to. Also has some child with him that he is attending to. I surprise them and ask for a lift but then for some reason I stay behind. My dad and grandpa come by with papers and a proposition to make to the tenants of their country house. They don't tell me what it is and the tenant's family comes by, their family has increased quite a while, particularly they now have a bunch of girls my age (actually younger but in my dreams I am always between 20s and 30). They are pissed of with the proposal they say it is 2800€ short. My grandpa starts feeling nervous and anxious and I tell them not to be confrontational or he can have a heart attack. He goes away and I take care of it. I ask what the issue is, but they don't believe I don't know, think I am trolling them. But I conquer the girls trust and they will negotiate with me.
      Later I spot a boar with a baby coming out from the bushes and I say it with enthusiasm and go take a peak. No one saw it and they don't believe me. I point to the animals and they don't look like boars anymore, now they are dwarf zebras.
      Then my mom comes by and she asks my help to graft a tree on the outside of the house which we do. She kinda ruins it, but then I fix it.
      Then I am at a kindergarten nearby where I used to go as a kid and they have a gardener that goes there once in a while to teach the kids somethings about gardening and horticulture. I find it wonderful, want to do the same but I don't think I have his talent to keep the kids really interested.
    4. Sunday, February 3

      by , 02-15-2019 at 11:28 PM
      I am in a house (unfamiliar, I think). Paranormal things keep happening, such as some invisible force moving things and/or touching me. It feels very real, though I’m not sure if anyone else is seeing it.




      I am going to an event for/at the preschool. Some others filter in along with me, some familiar. I recognize kids and parents. Inside, there are quite a few people here. It looks like an elementary school. There’s the cafeteria we’re in, the doorway we came in and one directly opposite it, and one hallway off to the left. All in all, it’s pretty small. I see Mom here, talking to a few, and she is in what looks like a stroller. (I think this is due to a disability, but I very much take it for granted in the dream). She spots me also, but is waiting to come over to me. I am overhearing talk of the disarray that Catholic Charities is still in. Tim Mills is here too; we pat a hand on each other’s shoulders in greeting. Surveying the tables, I see everyone already has food, mostly cheeseburgers. This makes me realize that I’m pretty hungry. I wish I would’ve ordered one, thinking that it is probably too late to do so now, that they’re done making them for the evening. Now I am sitting by Nelson and his dad. His dad is combing Nelson’s hair, which looks slightly longer and thinner and almost a translucent, fluorescent white-blond. He’ combing it into almost a Trump-do. Nelson sits placidly. Dan is talking to me about haircuts, but I’m finding it difficult to hear. My responses at times are nonsensical because I can’t hear and don’t want to ask for a repetition. They start leaving, and I follow suit. We leave through what very much looks like a house’s garage (the two getting into a black truck/SUV parked within). Melissa’s car is a few feet to the right, perpendicularly in the street. She’s sitting inside, on her phone. I go up to open window and am going to say something, in a humorous tone, about her moving, but before I can she says she already knows she’s in the street. Dan apparently didn’t think she was in the way, as he’s already backing out, pretty quickly. I ask Melissa if she wants to hang out now or not. She says she doesn’t care and that it’s up to me, to which I say the same exact thing. We end up going home (to Mom’s?).
    5. 9 Feb: Monsters and a wedding

      by , 02-09-2019 at 10:43 PM (Lucid-schizo-dreamer)
      non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening

      Inspired in the latest Sandra Bullock movie, which I haven't seen, I am with some kids and friends in the country. There is a haunted house we are in, teaching the kids on how not to be attacked by the ghosts. They react to thoughts and emotions. When we think about it, they appear. We make a giant dark figure stretch his arms through a door, almost getting us. But as long as we have no fear they can't harm us, so I face the monster fearlessly and he can't touch me.
      Then someone inspired by Game of Thrones or whatever, projects on us some hardcore body armors with helmets with long horns and secret weapons and turns us into ass kicking warriors, so no one is afraid of no ghosts anymore.


      Going to marry Jaime. I am organizing my own wedding and it is a vegan wedding. The music for the aisle walking is the Imperial March. I am doing all preparations myself. All guests are seated and I am in my dress but I am also with a mop and a bucket doing last minute cleanings. The groom is late so someone decides we should have the food first. Then some last minute guests come and Cory Booker is one of them. My friends don't know him, I tell them he is a candidate for president of the USA and vegan. One asks me if he is democrat or republican and I answer. We seat and we eat soup.
    6. Friday, January 25

      by , 02-05-2019 at 03:21 AM
      I am inside somewhere - a house maybe or somewhere that feels sort of homey. There is a boy and a girl here, around my age and unfamiliar to me. They are each in a separate room. The rooms are pretty bland; I think each only has a wooden table. (This feels more like I am watching a movie, especially since I switch between observing each room). I watch as, in the boy’s room, a chair is slid away from the table seemingly of its own volition. It startles the guy, and he sort of gasps at the occurrence. To me it all seems kind of campy. Now in the girl’s room, we see her seated with another woman. When we glance back, this woman suddenly has an ugly, ghastly face (very similar to the Nun) that produces a twinge a fear in her and myself. I feel the adrenaline’s warmly numbing sensation move down my body. A few other paranormal and cinematically cliché occurrences ensue.
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    7. Ghosts in the Wardrobe

      by , 10-13-2018 at 01:02 PM
      Morning of October 13, 2018. Saturday.

      Dream #: 18,926-01. Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 65.



      In my dream, there is not much of my current conscious self identity intact. Part of the first setting has the essence and “memory” of the Cubitis house’s kitchenette (where I have not been since 1978), but it is incorrect in the overall layout. There is an open area to the right (when facing west) that leads to a big bedroom, with other rooms beyond that. Additionally, there is a washing machine instead of a stove, which I do not find unusual. The house seems to belong to Marilyn (half-sister on my mother’s side; deceased), even though she never lived here. (I do not recall that she had died and she appears as she was in the late 1960s.)

      At one point, I watch the washing machine turn at an angle. Eventually, an invisible force drags it into the bedroom, leaving it near a door on the opposite side of that room, near the bed. I find this fascinating and tell Marilyn.

      I discover that the ghost of a boy is hiding under the bed after Marilyn tells me about him. I perceive him as sitting up in a meditation position even though this orientation could not be possible in reality.

      Another room seems to be like a small broadcasting room of a radio station, though mostly featureless. I talk to Jim (half-brother on my mother’s side; deceased) through the window, which seems closed, though I can hear him speaking to me. I do not go into the room. (I do not recall that he had died and he appears as he was in the mid-1970s.) He tells me that I should never talk about the ghost to anyone else outside of our home. I disagree. He seems sad. I then have an intense reflection of my marriage to Zsuzsanna and all the miraculous events we have experienced, and I begin talking about them as if they were the result of a divine force above us, yet astoundingly, my dream self does not enter dream state realization. (I still seem to have no recall of who I am or of my current real-life status immediately after this.)

      I go back into the bedroom, and Marilyn tells me that the parents of the ghost boy, who are also ghosts, had been hiding in the wardrobe for a long time. The unfamiliar and somewhat stocky man in a suit is wearing glasses. His eyes seem unusual. His right eye seems lower than it should, at a slight downward angle towards his nose. It is also a shorter distance from his left eye than what would be normal.

      I hold out my right hand for the male ghost to shake. I am very sincere and cheerful. He willingly shakes my hand. I then place my left over his as we are still clasping hands. My sense of touch is enhanced. I am confident and peaceful as I acknowledge him with a sincere smile, as if I am very happy to meet him.



      It is a typical non-lucid dream of the type I have had since earliest memory. There is no evidence that the non-lucid dream self has a viable link to the unconscious mind in REM sleep as many people believe. Virtually every non-lucid dream I have had since earliest memory reveals otherwise.

      I could look at this dream in two ways. I could see it as the common waking process. For example, I could see the male ghost as my emerging consciousness avatar and our shaking hands as coalescence of my dream self into my conscious self. (There have been many similar dreams.) However, knowing that telepathy (for lack of a better word) is a common dreaming process, there may have been something transpersonal going on here as with my recent “Jethro” dream. The link with the interconsciousness occurs at a specific level between dreaming and waking, though I can also perceive it at times when awake (especially with Zsuzsanna). That is evidence that interconsciousness exists either above preconsciousness or parallel to it, since interconsciousness is often more discernible than preconsciousness, though the reticular formation, RAS, and the preconscious is a waking alert factor in contrast to how the interconsciousness is a transpersonal dimension beyond the individual and a prerequisite of survival of the species, rather than just the individual.



      [key descriptors]

      subliminal creation of a bed as a reminder I am dreaming

      subliminal creation of a wardrobe as a reminder I am dreaming

      unification ritual

      REM dream state indicator (focus on “unusual eyes”)


    8. Seeing my dead cat again + some other fragments

      by , 09-18-2018 at 07:54 AM (Dimension X)
      After another year, I can finally focus on dreaming again. I'm having trouble getting the motivation to write as soon as I wake up, but hopefully I'll get used to it again, like before.

      If a dream isn't like a story, or there are multiple different things that happen separately, I'll use bullet points now instead.

      So...

      -Was with my parents, and there were a bunch of other cats around, all the ones from the farm house we had to leave back in 2011. I distinctly remember calling out to one nearby, who was rolling around. His name was Boots. This is not the deceased cat, however. The only cat we now know is gone, is a tiny female cat named Ryza. I think I was partially lucid here? Eventually, I started crying, and I picked her up in my arms when she got close and I said "I just miss her so much" through tears. Woke up with my eyes watering. ...Maybe she's somehow letting me know she's okay.

      -With my brother Aaron, and not sure if my parents were there. There was a small hill nearby that we were on top of already. At the top was a parking lot. A truck suddenly drove up the hill, and into the parking lot, while flipping multiple times, yet sustaining no damage. I remember saying "That truck's a tank!"

      -In a different, yet familiar house, looking around. I remember it definitely being haunted in the dream. Haunted by the spirit of an elderly woman. Eventually, I remember looking around and saying "Thank you for letting me be here." Not long after, a horrible sensation coursed through my body, and I felt like I was getting electrocuted. The dream ended shortly after. ...What a bitch.

      That's it for now. Gonna try to write in here more.
    9. To Help Ghosts…

      by , 06-18-2018 at 10:07 AM
      Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday.



      Subliminal awareness of the autosymbolic nature of the waking process begins. My unconscious mind is personified as an unknown female despite the fact my non-lucid dream self does not possess viable access to my unconscious mind at this level of REM sleep. Errors and distortions abound. She is a subliminal thread of my wife Zsuzsanna, of which my non-lucid dream self does not yet possess viable memory of or contact with my current conscious self identity. She has a daughter who literally but subliminally represents our oldest daughter at a younger age.

      I am sitting on the floor in a unique erroneous version of the King Street mansion. The house is mirror imaged to its real-life layout, flipped east to west. I am in the downstairs antechamber while the female mostly remains in the living room on the other side of the doorway. She seems annoyed in building a small structure on the floor in about the middle of the living room, mainly from a set of small blocks of different solid colors, mostly blue, yellow, red, and green. They are about the size of baby blocks, but with a feature on all six sides that is like the knobs of a Lego brick, though there are four knobs on each side of each cube in a two by two pattern. A couple times, as the blocks do not fit into each other, stacks of about seven high topple over. There is a row of about eight stacks at various heights. (This is autosymbolism for failure to initiate viable conscious awareness.)

      I am puzzled and somewhat annoyed, though not angry, in trying to rebuild the staircase that goes to the second floor (where I had lived in real life though not been since 1990), which supposedly is to be the real staircase. This is an extreme failure of thinking skills as I am solely working with small triangular pieces of wood. The pieces are only about two inches thick. The two stacks I had made this far are only about six inches high in two rows of about eight pieces each. I cannot seem to arrange the pieces in the correct orientation regarding which edge should face upward. I have several together, but they do not display the form of a set of steps. This indicates that my subconscious self is having difficulty in reaching my conscious self identity during the waking process.

      Subliminal anticipation of the waking process continues but increases. This is after the subliminal recognition of a staircase being autosymbolism for the waking process despite its miniaturization in a setting that represents the liminal space of the process, the antechamber (what my landlady called a “vestibule” in real life). Vestibular system correlation personifies, which causes my dream to jump to a new setting, though in the same King Street mansion, still mirrored east to west.

      I find myself on the second floor. I develop an ambiguous awareness where I start to become partly aware of my married status and erroneously perceive the house, though vaguely, as the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (where we have not lived in years), though that was only a one-storey house and was nothing like the King Street house. Vestibular system correlation personifies as Glenn, one of our landlords from Stadcor Street. He has never lived in America, but my dream self does not consider this error. I have a vague awareness he is married to my landlady (only vaguely recalled as Zsuzsanna at this point, but this does not trigger the realization of my erroneous associations) even though in reality he had a male partner.

      A vague thread of dream state awareness is present at this point, though no threads of viable lucidity. Because of vestibular system correlation personifying as Glenn, who seems very cheerful, I walk through the doorway of the upstairs kitchen, which opens to the porch’s roof. This is from vague recall that a porch can be used to vivify a dream, as it is autosymbolic of a specific level of dream state consciousness of which I had used many times in the past, since early childhood, to vivify my dream or “step into” a more vivid offset dream. This process developed from walking outside by way of the porch’s doorway. Here though, I am somewhat puzzled from being on the roof of the porch, as there is no additional doorway to intensify my dream or trigger viable lucidity (as the option to jump off the roof to fly does not occur to me). Glenn looks up at me from the public sidewalk in front of the house.

      “You’ll have to use the catwalk,” he says happily.

      I get the impression he had used the so-called catwalk and jumped to the ground from the outer edge of the roof. I study the roof and see a precarious narrow section of wood that is separate from the rest of the roof, which puzzles me. I stand on it, but consider that I cannot get to the rest of the roof (which has some building materials and tools sitting about) even though all I would have to do is step onto it from this supposed catwalk. Even after fifty years, my dream self fails to remember the dream sign of a cat being a “witness” to liminal space and typically near doorways (for the purpose of inducing lucidity in some cases), though the association had been distorted into the word “catwalk” in this case. (No cat is present and my dream self does not think about cats even upon hearing “cat” as part of “catwalk”.) The association with a “cat always landing on its feet” is not present (regarding the vestibular system dynamics of the waking process, which is often a falling sensation, based solely on biology, not “meaning” as “interpreters” falsely propagate).

      My dream shifts into a different scenario as a result of considering the nature of the King Street roof (still erroneously associated with the Stadcor Street house) and subliminal anticipation of the falling sensation of the waking process, which does not occur as a result of this shift. Now it is a typical non-lucidly forced “haunting” scenario. I am downstairs again, but this time the setting is an ambiguous composite of the Stadcor Street house and the Cubitis house. I am now more aware of Zsuzsanna as my wife, though it is still not a complete recognition. She still seems to serve the role as landlady.

      “How long has…it…been in this house?” I ask her this dramatically, speaking of the haunting, which is mainly nonthreatening. We talk briefly, but I become distracted. I find myself in a dark room with an unknown female. There is talk about ghosts and seeing physical evidence of ghosts in this house. I tell her, “This is the only house I have ever lived in where there is the physical presence of ghosts.” On one level, I know ghosts are not real, but on another level, I have achieved non-lucid dream control and revivification at this point to entertain myself. The old writing desk that Zsuzsanna used to have is present, which results in an increase of thinking skills correlation. Near the opposite side of the desk from where the unknown female is standing, another female slowly appears. It is a ghost. “Can you see her?” I ask the female. She tells me that she cannot see anyone there.

      The ghost is a realistic version, as a “real” human, of Velma Dinkley (of the Scooby-Doo franchise), though about twelve years of age. She seems puzzled and very shy and uncertain. “Who are you?” I ask her. “I’m a goddess,” she whispers. I am puzzled and ask her again about five times. Each time, she softly says, “I’m a goddess”. I want to help her come to terms with her death. (This is a vague influence of “Show Yourself” from 2016, seen just prior to sleep, where I expected Travis to hug the ghost of Paul near the end, though he did not). I hug her, place my right hand on the small of her back, and move it up to the middle of her back. As a result, the palm of my hand begins to glow with white light, rays shining into other areas of the room. (I do not recall the association with Zsuzsanna having been born on September 13, though this was exactly one year before “Scooby-Doo” first aired, therefore Velma in this case is a subliminal representation of Zsuzsanna.)

      The palm of my right hand continues to glow as I find myself walking south through the Cubitis hallway. I stand in the doorway of the Cubitis southwest bedroom looking into the semidarkness. Several unfamiliar people, both men and women, are sitting on couches that are against the west and north walls. (This is an erroneous setup, as the north wall held the sliding doors of a large closet in reality.) I hold up my right hand and the light spreads into the room somewhat. The others are puzzled. I step through the doorway and wake. (This is a vague association with a security system reading a handprint to allow entry, or, in this case, to exit the dream state.)



      With this entry, I have attempted to explain the dreaming and waking process as best I could for this dream. (This is difficult in a society where most people have no viable understanding of dreams, many still believing in “interpretation” and “symbolism” in the popular sense, neither of which is real.) The bedroom is a literal thread of final recognition that I am dreaming, and so I choose to wake. The light represents attaining consciousness as a willingness to accept daybreak and intelligence of which only the conscious self possesses in waking life.


    10. Bodies of Relatives and Broadcast Manipulation

      by , 06-13-2018 at 10:49 AM
      Morning of June 13, 2018. Wednesday.



      My dream self holds a liminal awareness of being asleep. Eventually, a subliminal focus on bodies in blankets, as we have more (and thicker) blankets on us in the cooler weather, helps build the first dream segment. The setting is unknown, but seems loosely based on an association with our backyard on Stadcor Street in Wavell Heights (where we have not lived in years).

      I find myself carrying a corpse fully wrapped inside a thick blanket (autosymbolism, though with literal threads, for my physical body being inactive in sleep). I consider that it is Earl (an older half-brother on my mother’s side who died in 2007). Even so, the body is not of realistic size or weight (though my dream self does not consider this). I drop him into a pile of other bodies that are in a hole in the ground. The hole accommodates the length of a little less than two bodies and the width of about two bodies. The bodies are almost to the top of the hole. When I drop Earl in, he somehow easily slips down vertically into a space between my mother and my brother-in-law Bob on the right (though Bob is still alive in real life as far as I know). (They are each fully wrapped in a blanket.) This cheerfully surprises me. There is an awareness of how his body actually seemed to quickly shrink as it slipped down into the space below (vestibular system correlation autosymbolism). I know there are several other bodies farther down, all relatives. I briefly think about the bodies being together like this, vaguely pondering if it is the right way to have a burial. I have a false memory that it is normal to have the bodies of deceased relatives in a backyard like this.

      Knowing that they have to remain buried at a deeper level, I push down on the bodies and even roll around on top of them to force them farther down into the hole. This works to a degree and about two feet of space remains near the top of the hole, but I do not yet shovel dirt into it.

      In the next segment, dominated by non-lucid dream control, I am in an indoor location, though it is mostly unfamiliar (though my dream self perceives it as our present home). I am explaining to members of my family how to see into the spirit realm. They are all on my right, including our youngest son. I consider possible communication with Marilyn (older half-sister on my mother’s side who died in 2014).

      This connection to the spirit world is activated by pressing a paperclip onto the edge of a button on the television remote. (In my dream, the perimeter of each button is metallic.) Doing this distorts the signal, removing most of it to display supposedly ghostly broadcasts and patterns. At first, the screen is mostly black, but there is a fuzzy form that moves across the screen from right to left (though of which mainly just seems like signal interference). I point it out to family members as evidence that ghostly activity is being seen.

      Soon, another form is seen. It is like a very hazy incomplete rendering of Godzilla, about half the height of the screen, somewhat like a pale gray outline with some other details, but it also seems to be a chubby young cat walking on its back legs (which my dream self does not pick up on the autosymbolism of in a cat being a “witness” to the nature of the dream state in mediating the preconscious bulwark, here rendered as the television screen). The image wobbles and sways as it moves from right to left. I tell the others to watch this odd feature.

      Eventually, very clear and detailed scenes are visible, though they are in black and white. There are two “devils” conversing in one scene, one female and one male. They are also insect-like, though mostly human. They have goat horns as well as insect antennae. They are in an outside environment near a rocky area. I have no concern about this scene (as I even find it amusing) and I start to consider that this is a farce. At one level, despite continuing to pretend the images are coming from the spirit world, I realize that all I am doing is weakening a normal television broadcast to create “ghost” images and isolated partial pieces of the real broadcast.

      Sliding the paperclip against the buttons on the remote, the normal broadcast of a schooner at sea, originally in color, changes into a hazy black-and-white image and the rolling sea becomes the wavy lines of the vertical hold being out of adjustment, distorting diagonally (an amazing effect in my dream). There are other images after this, one being the hazy “ghost” of a sea captain. Soon, color images from legitimate television broadcasts start to remain on the screen longer. I tell my family that the process is starting to weaken and the supposed spirit world contact is no longer viable. It has an association with static electricity lessening after more continuous contact with the metallic surfaces. The last image as I wake is a vivid colorful view from under a girl looking down at the viewer, her head against the blue sky.



      This dream was caused by the typical combination of autosymbolism (based on the sleeping, dreaming, and waking process) with television influence, which is interesting, as television is an analogy to a liminal space division or preconscious bulwark.

      The primary influence of both dream segments was “The Seven Year Itch” episode of “Grimm”, seen just prior to going to bed. The remote and paperclip scenario was additionally based on a question from “Think Tank” seen earlier yesterday, though based on an incorrect answer otherwise regarding how a felt-tipped pen saved the Apollo 11 mission (by completing a circuit). It is extraordinary how non-lucid mediation of a dream combines total fantasy with distorted waking life associations, though this is by lifelong habit since early childhood in sometimes reviewing and altering content of television shows, movies, comic books, and so on, in liminal stages of the dream state induction process.


    11. The Silent Purple Ghost

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



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

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

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

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



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

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


      Categories
      non-lucid
    12. That look of eyes five inches a part

      by , 04-30-2018 at 06:51 AM
      I found myself in a huge convention center, it seemed. And to my surprise, the place sort of circled around a large domain where the space needle was being constructed, though it was black. I met this woman, and everyone presumed she had an attitude about her that made her cold, unapproachable, and seemingly ill-tempered. I chose to ignore these elements and sat down with her at a picnic table, still inside this convention center. This woman's disposition was an absolute amalgamation of several personas of multiple strippers.

      Laburnout theory-screen-shot-2018-04-29-4.24.21-am.jpgClick image for larger version. 

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      I'm so stupidly foggy as to other dream aspects, but I was at one point conversing with my mother about something lifelike.

      Additionally, my friend Matt was at my house, and he felt the need to watch television on our big screen downstairs. He gathered together a jumbled mess of extension cords, and sought the assistance of my father to garner a means to watch his program. When i met him at the foot of the stairs, I asked why he needed to do this, and he responded with "I didn't want you to give me that look of eyes five inches apart!"

      WHO CARES WHAT PSYCHIATRISTS WRITE ON WALLS!
    13. The Afterlife is a Wellness Center [Almost LD?]

      by , 04-28-2018 at 03:51 AM (Nonsense and Conundrums)
      I am in the car with my family. We are talking about death and the afterlife. At some point, I mention not being afraid of death. This leads into someone handing me a bomb, the rest of my family disappearing, and the bomb going off.

      The pain is momentarily unbearable, a searing white-hot burn coursing through every bit of my body. Even worse is the immense, crushing pressure. Once the burn ebbs away, the pressure increases, and a loud silence pulses. It feels like I'm breaking apart.

      Suddenly I am somewhere else, and someone is asking for my information at a desk. I ignore her and look arond. It looks like an old house converted into a wellness center. There are a lot of confused poeple of all ages shuffling around. Someone yells out, "Come this way if you want answers," so I decide to follow the voice and check it out. I go where the man directs. The room I walk into next looks like an old classroom with wooden desks; there are already many people seated, waiting expectantly.

      As I sit, I realize something isn't right and try to push my fingers through my palm. It doesn't work the first time, but my fingers push through the second time. I quickly pull them out and stare in wonder. The mistake I make here is instead of realizing I'm dreaming, I believe I am dead.

      The instructor is going on about something irrelevant until I interrupt him and say, "I'm dead, right?" He stares at me and slowly says "yes" in a quiet voice. Instead of being upset, I become curious and start asking questions regarding afterlife and the astral planes. People look at me, confused, and whispering amongst each other. I'm eventually ushered out of the room (I did do a demonstration of how I pushed my fingers through my palm, maybe that's what did me in) and the instructor tells me to keep quiet. I ignore him and move on to explore.

      I find the basement of the house, and thus find something strange. There are hundereds of "cores", strange bowl-like crystalline structures that change colors constantly. They appear in sets of five, the middle corse containing a black orb. I know these are the people's life cores, and my own.

      Sometime later on, a creature smashes through the wall. It's huge and looks reptilian, and causes immense chaos. It smashes many of the cores, including some of mine, and I hunch over in pain. I run back up the stairs, yelling and warning people about the creature. Seems like the excitement wakes me up.
    14. lots of dreams

      by , 03-26-2018 at 09:40 PM (MoSh's DJ: The Best Dream Journal in The Universe.)
      I should have posted sooner.

      Ghost house.

      Mainly remember being outside a house kind of in the country. I was in the backyard where all these walkways and bridges were. I went up to the back door and found that it was locked. A woman came to the window and said to go around front. She was outside suddenly while we walked to the front and said that the front area is where you hear all the ghost voices.

      Exploring


      I was hanging with A and we were trying to get into an abandoned area. We were in a townhouse complex at night. He motioned me to follow him across a parking lot. So I followed him. As I was running across the parking lot I noticed A wasn't there. But I saw him a few seconds later by an open door. I ran to the door and noticed that in the door was a change room. It was quite populated. I notice A looked really young in the dream.

      Nightmare

      I woke up on a couch in a locked room. I have false memories of being trapped there and tortured. In the room is my captor, a balding fat man in a wife beater. He says it's time to eat and pretends he's making food for me. I stand up on the couch and see a small window. I can't open any of them, one turns with a handle but there's a space open to small for me to crawl through. I sit back down for a second when the man comes to the couch. I realize one of his arms is like a deformed half arm and half wing. It's wing shaped but messed up and has 3 human like fingers sticking out of the side. I go to the window again when he turns away and hear a voice in my head say, " get out the window now.". I turn back to look at the man and for a second i wanna clobber him while his back is turned but i am too afraid. I go back and shut the window quick before he notices wind. The man then pulls out a rubber suit and tells me to get in...

      More exploring

      Brief dream of walking into some woods with people one guys says his spirit guide is with him and asks if I see him, he then points in the direction of where his guide is supposed to be. I look back and see nothing but wind blowing. We walk farther and I say be careful because there's wolves in these woods. My brother is also there and he says, "Yeah they have huge teeth like this," He opens his mouth and suddenly has huge wolf like fangs.

      Driving

      In this dream my dad is driving me into the country to visit Jamie. Or it could be her dad driving. I can't remember,

      Updated 10-17-2018 at 03:38 AM by 6012

      Categories
      non-lucid , nightmare , memorable , dream fragment
    15. Painting and Haunting

      by , 01-28-2018 at 06:45 AM
      Morning of April 14, 2016. Thursday.



      My dream starts like a typical painting and maintenance dream. The setting is mainly an altered version of our present home, though has an extra open room between the lounge room and dining room where there is a large wardrobe.

      I am mostly enjoying my task as I maintain a clear focus. There are a few times when I am concerned about having dripped paint on clothes that are folded on wardrobe shelves as well as on the floor. I am using a light blue paint but at times it changes to a cream color. This seems to be because I am painting a different part of another room at times and it apparently happens automatically. My painting is somewhat random. At one point, I am concerned a bit by the thicker ridges and such caused by having slapped on too much paint at times.

      Above our bed and down a bit from the ceiling is an unusual artistic feature that had apparently been put there by the former tenant. There are red ribbons in a trailing frame pattern that partially enclose a large and rectangular piece of tinfoil that blocks about eighty percent of the view of the ceiling. I try to paint around everything. Mostly, I think I am improving our residence.

      I eventually see what is like a large and very old tapestry, although it seems painted. The paint does not seem quite right, as if it had expanded and “blurred” over time (which is obviously autosymbolism for lesser dream self awareness). I soon “remember” that all I have to do is touch something to refurbish or perfect it. I touch the upper right corner of the tapestry and it becomes beautiful and more clearly defined, very vividly, little by little, as I watch closely, the much finer detail clarifying the image like a slowly moving sweeping wave from right to left. I then decide to finish painting the walls in this way. The walls then “paint themselves” in a light cream and blue pattern as even the previous lumps and minor cracks smooth out.

      I shift into a haunting pretense (common since early childhood); that is, I pretend that the room I am in is haunted, knowing that if I concentrate, I can possibly bring about a “real” haunting. I read various random letters and word clusters on the wall. One unknown female, a professional investigator of some sort, who reminds me of actress Helen Kleeb from the 1970s, writes down what I say as I am saying it, though most of which is gibberish that I still spell out for her.

      Finally, I say, “oh…it’s a name,” and I clearly see the name in large hand-printed letters on the wall and say the name, which is Rosemary Berry (which is not familiar to me, though reminds me of other dream names with rhyming patterns, such as “Tony Karoni”). I report that “Ms” appears prior to the name. (This is possibly an association with “MS. Found in a Bottle” by Edgar Allan Poe, and possibly also Matisyahu’s “Message in a Bottle” that I have listened to lately and of which I made my own version of. However, the “MS.” of the Edgar Allan Poe story is claimed to mean “message” in only some sources and “manuscript” in more credible sources). I am very glad that signs of a “real" ghost are present even though I am still aware it is the instigation of my own pretense.

      Suddenly, I am a little boy of about eight years old and I see an unfamiliar friendly boy (a ghost of a former resident) walking up to a somewhat jagged hole in the wall. (The “doorway” is also of a ghostly source as the others cannot see it.) I am aware that his name is Hamlet. The investigator is now implied to be my mother (yet Helen happens to be the name of my wife Zsuzsanna’s mother, not mine). I tell her about Hamlet and she says “oh” and remarks with seeming frustration and disappointment, “you’re just dreaming!” I am immediately aware that she probably now thinks the Rosemary Berry incident was a dream (or just my imagination) as well, which causes me to feel patronized, but as I am only eight years old, there is not much I can say. She towers over me to my right, and I feel just like a child again in perspective.

      Soon, we are walking through a parking lot (autosymbolism for the liminal space waking transition, typically the last setting in a dream). After looking through some documents she is carrying in her bag, she cautiously says, “oh…Hamlet was one of the former residents…” (with attestation emphasis on “was”). She looks at me curiously as I start to wake.


      Categories
      non-lucid
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