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Day 18:


Fell asleep at: 10:30 PM

Woke up at: 6:40 AM


Dream 14: For Dear Life

I remember exiting out of my grandma's neighborhood during the dead of night. My brother and brother-in-law and I are sitting in the backseat of an oversized truck, which my sister is driving.

None of us are wearing our seatbelts, nor did I find any around. I'm clinging onto my seat as my sister swerves around town. The seat is straight metal, so even trying to maintain a grip is impossible. We stopped by a water fountain as a red light mercifully saved me from falling off the car.


Dream 15: Expected Laziness

I'm in an unidentifiable interior setting. It resembles a library, combined with some sort of coffee shop. It seems some people from school are preparing for a race.

All of them are getting into position, and I manage to sneak my way past them and into another room. Two people I know are there, N.Rio and Mike. Both of them are sitting on a black couch in front of a window. Looking out the window, there was another white cuboidal building off in the distance.

N.Rio and Mike are both on their phones. And since mine was (And still is) broken, I just stared at what they were watching. I remember coming across as awkward and nosy, but beyond that there wasn't much else.



Dream 16: Rolling Chairs are Awesome

Now it's lunchtime. Talking to some DCs, I bring up the undeniable fact that rolling chairs are the best thing one could ask for. To demonstrate my point, I tell them I can get from place to place without even getting out of my chair. My destination? The other side of the cafeteria.

Rolling around at the speed of sound, I race my way past the cluttered cafeteria and to a table where the lunch ladies are sitting, across from where I was at. I hand them my chair, pretending that there's something wrong with it, and I ask them if I can go to the restroom. I guess I thought it was weird that I'd show up there for no reason and head back, so I improvised a reason for doing so when I got there.




Day 19:


Fell asleep at: 4:00 AM

Woke up at: 7:30 AM


Dream 17: Dang it...

I remember having a really vivid dream today, but my two puppies woke me up so I forgot all about it. They bark when they're hungry, thirsty, angry, happy, jealous, or when they feel anything at all.

Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday.



In my dream, there is an unfamiliar library I go to, which takes the place of where the King Cinema had been in real life. I am also living at the King Street mansion (boarding house) not as I was years ago in reality, but with my family as we appear now.

My dream starts with me leaving the apartment. I walk westerly down King Street. The library is only a few blocks away. I am carrying, in a backpack, a computer keyboard, a flat monitor, and two small unknown devices (each about the size of an iPhone but thicker and one with a curved bottom) related to computer technology which apparently store data and may be additionally used for other purposes.

In the library, I delete a list of URLs, one at a time, from one device for the purpose of clearing memory. I sit at a small table near the left end of one row of shelves. I do not question why the computer keyboard and monitor are all I have (with the two other small devices) to apparently do some work on my computer.

Water begins to drip from various areas of the library’s ceiling. I become annoyed, because one of the devices I am looking at goes blank and the screen is apparently ruined by water. An unfamiliar young female librarian assures me that it will work normally again when it dries. She pushes against me a bit from behind and I am slightly annoyed by this, as it makes it more difficult to type freely.

It starts to rain more and more inside the library. I tell them that buildings in Australia sure leak a lot, adding how where my family lives now has leaks, a few near the foot of our bed. I compare them to the houses I lived in in America. This is very flawed dream-self memory as usual, as the setting is implied to be in America. Somehow, even though I perceive that I “still” live in America on King Street, I am also seemingly aware of where we live now (in referring to the leaks in our present home). There is no way to consciously resolve this distortion, as, when I leave the library near the end of my dream, I am walking easterly back towards the King Street mansion (in America) in the rain, yet with the feeling I am in Australia. There is no aspect of bilocation of the two buildings, so it is just some sort of oddly skewed parallel thinking that only the dream self can maintain.

I decide to move to another location and sit down on the floor in an informal meditation position. It is closer to one corner near the main entrance. There is a male to my right who reminds me of classmate Bill W. All three of my devices with screens eventually become ruined. Bill talks to me a bit about some sort of research. Several other people are around, a few even reading books in the indoor rain.

I rub the surface of one of the devices. The screen is more like transparent glass by this point. Inside the device, which seems somewhat hollow, I see pieces of leaves and a few small stones and sand that I consider somehow got inside over the past few minutes. I am annoyed that I will apparently have to buy new computer devices.

I realize that, even though I am wearing a long-sleeved sweater (which goes down a bit below my waist), I do not have any pants on. I also have no shoes and am only wearing dark socks. The fact I do not have shoes annoys me more than not having any pants on, since I do not like the idea of walking on a cold wet granular sidewalk with only socks on. I ask Bill if I had come into the library with shoes on, though he seems not to know, and I am uncertain if I did.

Eventually, I leave the library to go home. I am firstly walking, then I start running in an exaggerated manner. My “running” becomes stranger, similar to the movement of The Spirit in the 2008 movie when he runs on the telephone wires. (We saw this movie just prior to my dream.) It feels like I am kicking sand out from the back of my feet as I am oddly moving along. Eventually, I reach the King Street boarding house, and there are some more dream elements, though which become abstract.

---

Raining indoors is a sort of forced symbolism based on the dream state itself, biologically related to a process that occurs during sleep (which I have described more fully in other entries). The library represents potential for conscious self awareness (and critical thinking skills), but the circadian rhythms factor holds my dream in the deeper phase. Being undressed in public, which is a subliminal dream-state indicator (as I do not wear clothes when sleeping) has rarely bothered me. (In fact, I am more embarrassed in some dreams when wearing clothes, as in real life, I do not like to be seen as wearing clothes in bed.) It is no coincidence that I am often undressed in public in a library, as these are two common dream-state indicators (dream signs) for me, especially as in sensual lucid dreams, when I deliberately initiate this situation. (This is additionally validated by the library being where the movie theater was in real life, a movie theater otherwise symbolizing subliminal acknowledgement of the dream state.) The association with “The Spirit” movie, where he runs on telephone wires, even though I am on the sidewalk in my dream, is based on increasing neural energy and communication between different layers of consciousness during the waking transition.

---

Morning of June 21, 2017. Wednesday.



I am in my bedroom in Cubitis (where I have not been in real life since the summer of 1978). There is not much furniture present other than a bed. My room is full of very shiny small gold nuggets and gold dust with a few piles of gold coins. It seems to be nighttime.

I do not consider that my bedroom being filled with gold all over the floor from wall to wall is unusual in any way. I also do not consider that it is unusual that I am Casper the Friendly Ghost, in cartoon form. Wendy the Good Little Witch is visiting. There is no direct association with humanity at all.

Snorkledorf, the Freakies Cereal character, though not associated as such by my dream self, is approaching from the west. Wendy and I know that we are in danger. He will most certainly eat all my gold and then eat us. We decide to flee. Wendy and I fly northwest, and although I phase through the wall as I am flying because I am a ghost (though I often do this as my more conscious-self-based dream self), Wendy does as well, which puzzles me briefly. Perhaps she quickly used her magic wand. For a short time, I am thinking that she could turn Snorkledorf into something else, but that might not prove to be feasible.

We both fly north now. The area is no longer like rural Cubitis but not like a city block, either. The houses are close together, the backs of the houses facing each other, with shared backyards (an interesting dream distortion). Somehow, the area seems familiar or at least “correct” to me (even though it is entirely unique) and I decide to fly to the library. Wendy is no longer with me. I get the idea that Snorkledorf might be able to track our direction using his sense of smell, but that concern fades.

In the unfamiliar library, I am “myself” to some degree. That is, my dream self identity is now human but there are not many threads of my current conscious self identity, though I have no dream-self memory of having just been Casper the Friendly Ghost. I discern my fictional dream self as when I was around twenty-five (even though I had not been in Cubitis since age seventeen). I “know” that the library is north of my home in Cubitis, the other side of Highway Seventeen from where the plant nursery would have been in reality (as well as the opposite side of the highway as my home was). As usual, this is the first time this fictional layout has ever been rendered. There was no public library in Cubitis.

I look westerly at a tall wooden magazine rack and see a variety of magazines and comic books. I think I might buy a book I see in about the center of the rack, which is a graphic novel of perhaps sixty-four pages, though it feels thicker when I stroke the slightly irregular spine with my right thumb and index finger. Even though I am not familiar with its content and it does not seem all that interesting, I decide I will buy it as I read the price on it as $1.13; a dollar and thirteen cents. My dream self does not consider that, being in a library and probably not part of an ongoing book sale (though there are book sales at our local library in real life), that I could not buy it even though I plan to.

I turn around and lean down upon a heavy wooden table to read the book more closely. There are a few other people seated at it, including a very chubby short-haired unfamiliar male on my right (south) of about twenty. As I lean upon the table while turning a couple pages of the graphic novel, the heavy table begins to tip to the point where its top is almost diagonal to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I say to the small group of people, as I catch and pull the table back upright before it is fully on its side.

“If you could harvest that energy, you could solve the global energy crisis,” the chubby male says formally but cheerfully. I wake.

---

• The gold in my Cubitis bedroom uniquely symbolizes all my dreams that I had documented and decoded in my youth.
• Snorkledorf in this case symbolizes so-called dream interpreters. They “eat” (read) someone else’s dream without knowing what a dream is (what gold is for). They “trumpet” (as does Snorkledorf) an irritating out-of-tune fallacious “interpretation” with no understanding of personal value or experience or true meaning.
• Being Casper and flying is a waking symbolism precursor. Flying is the main anticipatory form of waking from a dream. Some “experts” believe this evolved from our ancestors falling out of trees while sleeping, but other “experts” have other theories, such as unconscious confusion of the physical body being horizontal in sleep while residual threads of the conscious self identity are rendered as upright in the dream state. I am more inclined to believe the second theory.
• $1.13, the cover price of the graphic novel, relates to how long I had been sleeping, an hour and thirteen minutes, a format I picked up from watching the timer on our DVD player so many times over the years. The graphic novel itself symbolizes being in the dream state.
• It is curious that the personified preconscious (though already coalescing into my emergent consciousness) said “harvest” instead of “harness”. (“Harvest” would imply getting electricity from plants, thus I suspect it means on one level that I should eat more green vegetables for more energy.)
• Thinking that Wendy could transform Snorkledorf with her magic relates to a conversation Zsuzsanna and I had prior to my dream. Neither of us have any answers for what is really wrong with much of humanity, regardless of how many times we had discussed it. This also relates to a recent analogy I came up with. Being an Internet dream journalist with over fifty years of experience is like being a heart surgeon with a detailed personal diary and additional book on anatomy. In the night, a person comes in through the window and scribbles in the margins “explaining” how the human body is run on hamster wheels…

---

Morning of June 19, 2017. Monday.



My dream starts out with my dream self (with at least some present conscious self identity threads, though not that many) being in an unfamiliar library in semidarkness. I am aware of an unknown female (seemingly in her twenties) who had been looking over a number of supposedly ancient religious books with the hope of gaining some sort of understanding of her life as well as personal power. However, I am also aware that there is nothing here of any value for her when considering my own opinion of her activities. She does not seem to be aware of me at first. I assume that I am incorporeal at this time, though I am corporeal in the last part of my dream. Looking at the pages, they are singular lines of hieroglyphs rather than a discernible language, somewhat like small sketchy icons (a carryover from a couple previous recent dreams). It seems to be some sort of ambiguous distorted combination of Aztec, Olmec, and Buddhist cultures.

In fact, there seems to be something in the back of my mind regarding this distortion, as some of the icons seem to represent Olmec colossal stone heads as well as Buddha heads and figures, yet there also seem to be some Aztec symbols. This reminds me of the New Age movement, primarily based on modern charlatanism and fallacious occult systems, which unrealistically combines anything and everything in an unlearned, unrelated, and wrongful sense (including all the fake products for gullible believers in the 1980s, such as free radical “guards” one wears, which only had internal circuity to make a small light bulb flash on and off to make it look like it was doing something). I begin to feel sorry for her, even though the books themselves may otherwise be of some historical significance.

I end up sitting at a rectangular wooden table with her sitting across from me, as well as there being a presence of about six or seven other unknown people. A few of the additional people are at a table that is perpendicular to the one I am at.

She is using a calculator for a reason unknown to me. Soon, I cause, via telekinesis, the calculator to rise into the air and come over into my raised hand. The others do not seem that surprised and she does not seem to object. She then has a fifty-dollar note in her right hand, which I do not clearly discern as either American or Australian (though it is more like an Australian fifty-dollar note relative to its darker golden color overall, though with no plastic or transparent content). She is holding it up as if ready to spend it on something (though this is not logical as we still seem to be in a library).

I use telekinesis again to will it from her hand. However, it rips and she still has a large section of one corner between her fingers. Feeling slightly guilty about this, I try to unite the pieces back together with telekinesis and additional mental will. Even though the piece is eventually reattached, with associations of manipulating the resealing of the tear like a zipper, I cannot fully seal the tear on will alone, plus, the corner now seems slightly out from the rest of the bill and at an angle (This would not be possible in reality, as the area of the paper would require it to be of the exact shape when coming back together for the correct fit. It would not be possible for there to be a gap or extra paper beyond the perimeter implied as here, as the distorted trapezoidal upper right corner relative to the front of the bill now appears a bit bigger than it was). An unknown male at the other table “reminds” me that he had told me not to use telekinesis in this way (though I do not recall this actually having happened before).

---

This dream utilizes non-lucid dream control. (Despite this, I am still technically the personified subconscious as I am not consciously aware of my conscious self identity and status.) This is evidenced by the fact that my conscious self certainly does not believe in telekinesis even though my silly dream self typically does and uses it effortlessly for the most part (more so in non-lucid dreams than lucid ones). Instinctual dreaming (non-lucid dream control) renders most forms of dream “interpretation” as pointless. If the fictional temporary dream self differs so much from the current conscious self and its present status, why would one assume there is significant relevance to the current conscious self (other than with literal precognitive threads, some of which are not revealed until many years after the dream). Although the manipulation of an object with telekinesis is technically a type of flight, I do not classify it as a third-level flight symbol unless more clearly defined or evidenced as such in my dream. It still seems to imply a factor of real-time dreaming and waking symbolism as in “not being fully grounded”.

What is going on here is a very typical metaphorical biological “showdown” between my non-lucid dream self (aka personified subconscious) and the personified preconscious (which is often transpersonal and unrelated to the conscious self persona, and thus which I assume in some cases comes from the collective unconscious) of the type which I have experienced all my life since early childhood. I am taking from her, the symbolic form of my critical thinking skills (the calculator), which do not viably exist in the dream state, and thus I am initiating my own waking symbolism which is why the preconscious does not object (as its purpose is to either wake the dreamer or instigate emotional factors related to waking from the dream state out of biological necessity; for example, if you do not wake you go into a coma or die - it has baffled me since early childhood how so many people do not realize that this is one of the main functions of dreams, though unlike what some “experts” claim, not the only purpose). The inability to fully repair the fifty-dollar note may symbolize two completely different factors, the first relating to, in being in the waking transition, unable to subliminally reinduce the dream state (as I am not lucid), and two, being that fifty is near my age, may relate to the biological impossibility to completely restore my physical body to as it was in my youth. (The symbolic “pulling up of the zipper” in attempting to fix the note may also be a waking precursor simply related to getting up and getting dressed.)

---

I was in a library. I found the book I wanted to read which had a title beginning with Z. There were also alcoholic beverages on the bookshelves. I chose a bottle labeled Heineken but it was clear liquid in a clear bottle so it actually looked like vodka. I was carrying my book and beer to the counter to checkout when a female librarian snatched the book from my hand for some reason. I think the reason was that the book was in the process of being banned from libraries and was inadvertently left on the shelf. I was wanting to drink my beer and read the book at the same time so the beer without the book was useless so I put it back on the shelf and left the library disappointed.

Morning of May 9, 2017. Tuesday.



In the first part of my dream, I am in a large urban park. I am not sure of the implied location. It may be Brisbane. A very small library is being built near the center of the park. There are only a few people working on it, with one man doing the most work and checking of the structure. So far, only part of the foundation has been finished. It seems to be an ongoing design rather than any blueprints being used. I attain liminal dream control. That is, I know I can help in “magical” ways, yet with no knowledge of what a dream is.

I have my wand with me. My wand has featured in many dreams throughout my life with this level of liminal dream control. It is some sort of device, implied to be of a very high technology, that does whatever I want.

I ask about the concrete foundation. Apparently, there will be no set foundation deeper in the ground. In fact, later, there are wheels on each corner of the building, like those on a utility cart.

One of the first things I do to help is cause paintings to appear (including a large one on what is implied to be used as part of the roof), as well as fix up the evenness of the coat of paint already present. It is some sort of large duck icon. (This is a form of subliminal re-induction as a duck is a water bird.) I move my wand over the surface and different colors automatically fall into place.

Much of the building thus far is of a metal frame. It does not seem that stable. While the main male is on break and seems uncertain of how to proceed, I move my wand over the various screws and the frame becomes tighter and more stable, not wobbling hardly at all.

My dream continues for a long time as I move my wand around the different areas for different purposes, with the focus of automatic perfection (a state of awareness in most wand dreams). At one point, the main male finally wants to check something based on blueprints but he does not have any. This is the only time I am unable to help as I am only able to produce small blank pieces of paper that come from my right pants pocket. They are like a mix of blank shopping receipts and small squares of origami paper. Still, I know that by using my wand everywhere, the building will be exactly as it should be.

At one point, I realize we are inside a large library. I am only slightly puzzled by the unexplainable setting change. It seems to me that this miniature library might be barely big enough for one person to move around inside. Its perimeter seems not that much bigger than a king-size bed. I know there will be shelves attached soon. I consider they will hang out from the outside, though facing inward. Still, this small special library may be for a series of children’s books.

---

There have been a number of dreams throughout my life of small buildings within larger buildings. This one did not have a sense of bilocation as certain others had.

---

I've been rather busy, and I actually forgot to get online yesterday until I was already laying in bed and there was no way I was getting out of it. D: I'm heading to bed soon, but I have to get home first. Still on campus right now. Lot of homework already.

Dream 1 (Technically Lucid): On Monday, I took a brief nap while sitting up on a chair in the library. I only remember a few fragments of my dream from that: I was at the beach, then I was at Costco, and then my notes say "loved, romanced" but I do not remember that.

I was lucid for only a split second when the dream first began, and then it faded into a regular dream. I was only asleep for maybe 5 minutes or so. Does that still count? I think I started to try and figure draw but then I lost lucidity. At any rate, if this doesn't count as a WILD, please let me know and I'll take out the points accordingly.

Unfortunately, I did not remember any dreams from that night's sleep. I was so tired!

Tuesday:
Dream (Full Not Quite Lucid) 1: I was walking around in a place that looked similar to my university's library. For some reason, I thought in my illogical dream state that it would be cool if everyone around me became a zombie. Then I realized that I didn't actually want it to happen. And then the dream faded. .____. This is because I woke up IRL to the sound of my roommate yelling "Escape this garbage!" I freaked out, but then I realized he was just sleep-talking. Or at least I think he was. Anyway, scared the crap out of me.

Dream 2 (Fragment): There was this cool tunnel structure with tiny little sugar guys living in it. As in, creatures made out of sugar or candy. They converted some piece of their dwelling into a hot tub, and relaxed in it. I think that this dream was influenced by this cute teacup dragon illustration I saw shortly before bed when I was browsing some of my favorite art blogs. ^_^

I am in a library walking with 3 other guys when one of them pointed at me to come over to this specific shelf. I come over observing and expecting books but instead it was a bunch of video games piled up all over the shelves. I began thinking one of these guys must be rich since they have thousands and upon thousands of games all stack up in this place. Either that or quite the obsession, however one game in particular caught my eye. It was a naruto game that I had played before sometime ago. As I held it in my hand and started focusing on it, I notice something odd about it.

I was having trouble reading the title of the game and the box cover was different. The more I tried to focus on it, the more blurry it would become. This isn't right I thought and I became lucid. I notice the people around me was someone I've seen at work a lot. I then continue to walk around the library so that I could follow him as he had been waving at my direction for awhile. Couldn't find him and due to feeling dizzy in the dream I woke up.

I try and take a box of a raving psychopathic man. This box, when opened, will destroy the world. I fail and run. I find my self in a dark room and a woman comes to me. She tries to help me, but I start spasming as the radiation from the box being opened IN THE FUTURE travels through time and touches me. She gives up, and leaves. Suddenly the light is turned on and thugs enter the room, and start eating at a table. I must hide. I hide in the toliet. It stinks terribly. The woman comes back and feeds me some salmon. Suddenly, ghe room starts shaking and all is destroyed.
I am thrown into a different world. It feels cold and not a 'rich' as the previous. It feels grey. I am being shown the contruction of a library. I feel depressed.

I was Roy Greenhilt, from Order of the Stick. I was being interrogated by Redcloak, who had put me on a circle. With each push of the button more spikes protrude from it, around me, like I'm on a knife throwing wheel except the knives come from the back. He seemed unwilling to actually hurt me, though. I didn't actually know the answer he wanted and I convinced him that. Someone I also talked him into letting me go. We left what appeared to be a Mayan pyramid.

My dream transitioned to me in a library. It was a small library. Supposedly I am in my accommodation's library (I was trying to contact the librarian in WL) but the surrounding suggested that I was in my elementary boarding school.

Bed: ~23.00
Wake up: 08.00
Now: 08.15

Library
I'm at what seems to be the university library. There's a rap video being played or being recorded. Either way, it's happening right there and the people who are in the video are also there. It starts out in a language that I can't remember. It's a collaboration of European rappers. Eventually it's the turn of some Dutch rappers. Man this is quite cool. The fact that Dutch rappers were deemed important enough for this.. The video is an old one though. It has to be at least 10 years ago. This makes me wonder why I've never seen it before. I remember recognising one of the rappers, but right now I don't remember who it was.

At another moment in the library, I'm out in the hallway. There are some people sitting on chairs and some people standing. I'm trying to mingle a bit, but I feel quite excluded. I'm not taking part in any conversation really.

Another moment again. I'm talking with some classmates. One of them is telling the group that his thesis is going really well and that he will fly towards whatever country soon to do his research. I know there was more to this dream, but I can't recall it.

Prison
I'm somewhere inside I think. I'm sitting at a table which has a bench on both sides, sort of like a picknick table.. or a prison table. There are at least 2 guys sitting at the same table with me; one in front of me, one to my right. One of them is telling me/us about him needing his wisdom tooth extracted soon. Only problem is, he lives in Groningen and on the day of the extraction, he'll need to get to Schiphol for his flight. I suggest to him to get his tooth extracted at the Slotervaart hospital, or better yet, the VU hospital. That way he can still catch his flight afterwards. He tells me the system doesn't work that way. He can't just go to whatever hospital he pleases. I tell him that he just needs to get a letter from his dentist for that hospital.

The conversation continues to another topic. It's about prison. I tell them that I have been in prison once. The prison was shaped like a narrow rectangular strip, just like the tiny strip of paper that I'm holding. In the mean time I get soup. It's Chinese [something] soup. The liquid is yellowish and quite clear. It looks great. Suddenly I say: ow forgot to mention, I was in prison in a dream.

I was in a library of a university/hospital hybrid, maybe the medical sciences part of a university campus, checking out some books. When I walked to the car the hubcaps were all missing and the hood was up with most of the parts missing from under the hood. Some stuff had been stolen from inside the car too but I saw my cell phone in the back seat and picked it up. Then a guy showed up who was the one who did it. He chased me until I got away from him by running back inside. Then I walked into a hospital room where a girl threatened to torture me so I hit her in the head with a chair. She was either knocked unconscious or dead and I went back outside the building and tried to call my boyfriend. A different guy answered the phone and said my boyfriend had just went into the party. But then I became suspicious that my boyfriend's phone had been stolen and that it was connected to the car incident so I was scared. At that point I realized that my wireless mouse was functioning as a cell phone. I ran up six flights of stairs to get to the top floor of the building where I thought I would be safe from people trying to attack me, but I wasn't sure I was safe there so I decided to run back to the car. I was really scared and I hoped that I was only dreaming but thought I definitely wasn't when I glimpsed the girl still knocked out in her hospital room. On the way to the car I was carrying blankets and I dropped a bottle of laundry detergent but realized I didn't have my library books and was worried that I had lost them. When I saw the car, the hubcaps were there and the hood was down. I got in and cranked it up and it was working.

Non-lucid – Notes – lucid – Interpretation

I am in a basement. There are a series of 3 rooms next to one another, used for sexual activity. We are 3 couples coming out of each of these, though I am unsure if I am with someone at this point. From the 3 rooms we enter into a larger room and head towards a door on the right hand side.

We are talking about a larger sex assemble which is to take place in a bit. I know I won't be participating and I think there is another woman who won't either and so while I am exiting the room I look over my left hand shoulder to spot and make sure that the woman is leaving the room with me.

4-5 people go back into the room, while the woman and I remain in the adjacent room. This room is darkly illuminated. There is a sofa and an oblong coffee table next to a dividing wall that separate the larger floor plan into two major rooms – where we have just been in the other one. From the point of view of the sofa, which is located at the centre of the dividing wall there is a small kitchenette up to the right, right next to a door that leads into a room I never see, but notice that a fairly bright white light is flowing from it.

As we all walk out for a break the woman who is also not participating in the group session – she is very skinny, with shoulder length hair and is wearing loose beige (?) trousers and a dark green t-shirt, she is a head or two shorter than I – tell me in an asking tone “Is it ok if we don't have sex but just cuddle up a bit.” “Sure” I reply, a tad disappointed, but not a lot.

We sit down in the sofa in our separate corners. She lies down with her head in my lap and flick on the television, which is over right next to the kitchenette on the left hand side – opposite the door with the white light. The first channel is a two way channel – which is intended to show the other room what is happening in ours and we will be allowed what is happening in the other room. The woman tries to flick through the channels – at first we seem to be stuck on the channel we start out with – but when we finally get going there seems to be porn on all the channels. After having flicked through a couple we settle on the two way channel.

At this the woman turns frisky and direct her attention towards me, she turns her head upwards and kiss me, gently at first but with increasing vigour. We both start opening our mouths more and more and eventually I feel the cold sore at my left corner of my mouth rip open, a typical searing pain and a slight sensation of moisture, but I don't care I continue to dive into the kiss – feeling excited and horny as hell. Eventually I start adjusting my body posture, trying to roll with the woman into the motion of getting down into a laying down position – thinking yes, nice a sexual encounter is in the making. She reacts fiercely standing up in the sofa and starts rearranging the pillows in the sofa. At first I think she is making more room for our endeavours, but I soon understand.

“Traitor!” she proclaims “We had an agreement!” she continues.
“Yes, and I was going to keep it, but..” I reply.
“You can't be trusted!” She interrupts. She doesn't seem to understand that I really didn't mind not engaging in a sexual encounter but that I was fully open to do so if that is what she wanted. The situation had evolved from her desire and her initiative.

Feeling it is a lost battle I simply place myself in a tailors position in my end of the sofa and look her in the eyes – she has deep brown eyes. She starts talking about something that happened to her with her dad.

Sensing that it is a recurring pattern I ask her;

“So did this or something similar happen with your dad before?” I ask, sensing there is something like a fear of flying.
“There was an accident” she goes on – at this point the conversation is blurry to my memory – and she explains that either something similar happened at the age of 6, or later at the age of 21 – but essentially she is either saying that something happened before or after, with the other age representing the first event we were talking about. She starts looking rather pale, and slightly taken aback, I can see the surprise in her eyes that I am willing to sit back and talk therapeutically with her despite her recent judgement of me as being a traitor – which might actually refer to a generalisation of men she has developed.

We are interrupted at the conclusion of the sexual adventure happening behind us. There is a large window, with large black curtains obstructing the view. I start becoming aware of sounds from inside there, just a few moments before they enter the room we are sat in. I get a feeling of some sadomasochistic adventures happening and feel a slightly forced disinterest in knowing about the details.

When the people come out and start making their way towards the kitchenette, Jackie comes over to sit down, as well as a black man with long dreadlocks, though his hair isn't as greasy as you would expect from this hair style. I feel slightly embarrassed as I am no longer wearing my trousers and pants, though I still have my long woollen socks on. The black dude knocks me on my shoulder, and Jackie comes over with a glass of Orange juice and playfully say “Ahh it is good to see you asking for so much to drink” referring to it being a typical expression of recently having had sex and also to the glass of water I had drunk just a little beforehand.

I have a blanket covering my genital area, which helps with the embarrassment, but I also feel deceitful for the others misjudging the activity me and the woman were engaging in. From the kitchenette they start talking about their fascination with a flail-like whip, which is what they plan on using next.

I feel a strong urge to get out of there and I start making my way towards the doorway out, which is on the left hand side – leading into a small stairway, which is gloomily lit and dark green.

There is a slight skip.

I am now outside. I am walking down a road, there are trees and hedges along the side walk, and it is sloping downwards as I am walking down on the left hand side. It is dark outside, it seems wet and somewhat windy as well, it is raining. The light from the street lights seems gloomy and contains no warmth.

I continue walking downwards, having a conversation with Ronan, though he isn't actually present. We are talking about the option of setting up a company each, for 5 kroner, and then swapping companies – somehow this is relating to the treatment centre I am about to start up – and I am surprised he agrees. I recall something about a Facebook conversation where we were chatting and we came to the conclusion that the only thing we might have in common is Aesthetic taste, but that this might be cause enough to meet up anyway.

- this is relating to an earlier dream I had, the conversation took place at a street close to where I lived previously, lots of yellow building about, during the daylight. I recall the trouble of typing during this dream.

As I am walking along during this mental/technological conversation I come across a tent. It reminds me of the attached tent of a caravan. It is dark blue and from behind the plastic windows a greyish and eerie light shines through. I am aware of the strings that hold the tent in place, as they are extending out to the road blocking the path of the side walk forcing me to walk around them.

I am still heading down the road when I become aware of my shoes – they are getting wet and I wonder why I am wearing my slippers outside in this god forsaken weather. I look up and to my left and see the state library – rising above the darkness of the tree lines, with only a hint of the light of the street lights reaching the top like an ominous tower. I feel an increasing sense of unease, but carry on downwards.

Not long after this the water levels are rising and I feel like I know the bottom of the road will be completely flooded, blocking path to get home. I look up and back over my right hand shoulder and spot the road I can take which will also take me home. I turn around and start walking backwards. I feel like my vision is starting to slip – like fade completely – and I become increasingly afraid that I will loose my sight completely. At the same time I start feeling intoxicated, like proper drunk and my movements become erratic and unbalanced and I desperately reach out grasping for the strings of the tent for support. And while I find them and grab them they can do little for me as my balance continues to deteriorate. I think it is a bit weird as I didn't drink a lot back at the porn complex, but I can feel that I have definitely breached all levels of safe intoxication. My conscious perception seems to turn into a series of broken mosaics, as if invisible lines of fractures appear before my visual and spatial perceptive capacities.

I become so scared at the rising water levels and my continued diminishing balance and think to myself “Shit I could actually drown in this state. I am a poster boy of how not to get drunk.” While entertaining this thought fear levels keep rising, and then boom – I step into a pothole that is maybe a metre and a half deep and find myself too drunk to get loose – fear becomes panic as I struggle to get free.

The rain keeps falling the water is murky, brown like the colour of mud and there are multiple pieces of foliage, sticks and branches adrift on the watery road.

Finding myself terrified and sure of my death, I wake up.

Immediate interpretation: The cold sore bit was hugely disturbing to me as I woke up and is referring to a situation with Karen recently, where I knowingly kissed her before telling her that I had it. I became immediately aware that I am not completely free of selfish tendencies, which is also related to the knowledge that when I am practising so much self control during sex, I am liable to release more pre-cum, which of course increase the risk of pregnancy during unprotected sex. Knowledge I have kept to myself. It symbolise how I have been willing to put my own selfish needs in front of both her and our needs, a tendency I was deeply ashamed of upon awakening.

The black curtain shielding the view of the other room in the dungeon represents a boundary – black, the colour of nothing – meaning that while I am intrigued with exploring new aspects of my sexuality there are still areas I don't find meaningful to explore. Only if I fear exploring it does it make sense to do so, though this is not a fear based response – it is simply not interesting to me.

My interaction with the woman represents some of my concerns with Karen – that she asks for space, and then also take initiative for sex. It represents my confusion with it all, but also my willingness to take up the role required for her personal growth. The tad dissapointment could represent my feeling of repressing my sexual advances towards her to accommodate her need for space.

The interaction with my embarrassment regarding the others who assume we have had sex, while we haven't I believe represent the uneasiness I have felt in describing my relation to Karen to the outside world. I am trying my best to avoid putting labels on it, and while I don't find this a problem in our personal relation or when talking to people who frequent Tantric environments it is difficult to describe this mode of being in a relation to “old” friends and family who are not participating in this new-found spiritual journey I find myself on. I am somewhat afraid of what Karen thinks – if she would prefer I don't mention her at all, though that would violate my need to be open about what is important and meaningful in my life.

The drowning in the puddle represents – I looked this up as well, I was aware of the meaning of water representing unconscious emotions surfacing – that I might be forcing the issue. Before looking up the theme I thought to myself “Hmm now you have invited her into your inner most private world, of course we dive straight into the dark side – as represented by the cold sore bit”. I then looked it up and it could mean that I am forcing unconscious feelings to the surface prematurely, which makes sense against my immediate thoughts on the matter. It might make sense to keep certain dreams or aspects of my dreams private – it is ironic that we have talked so much about giving and asking for space and we then end up attempting to dream share, effectively eliminating space between us entirely – however as I was awake and praying for the spiritual purification of selfish tendencies I also felt that it made sense to dive into this, as she could help me face the issues and as such transcend them.

Having looked up a variety of dream themes I am increasingly aware of the truly wide variation of what people interpret stuff to mean, which has led me to the conclusion that it is primarily the immediate interpretation that matters. When I am baffled by a theme, object, colour or person I will look it up as and when needed and find the one that resonates most clearly with me. I also think this is a great way to start working on making symbolisms of dreams more translatable and better capable of communicating clearly between the two states of consciousness. Also regarding the privacy I spoke with Karen, and it dawned on me that some dreams can only be understood when analysed against other dreams or contextual events, which might necessitate “sitting” on them for a while as already mentioned.

Highway
I'm driving a car in the Netherlands, somewhere at the edge of Amsterdam, going up to a highway. It's starting to rain quite heavily. I swerve a little bit because I wanted to move right towards the run up a bit too early, crossing a line. I move back to my own lane but a few seconds later I already have to move right again to go onto the highway. At first everything is fine, but then there is oncoming traffic. I appear to be headed in the opposite direction, though it doesn't cross my mind that it's my wrong doing. I stay on the left side, as the approaching vehicles are using the right lanes.

Fragment
> I'm with a group of people. We seem to all be sitting on a bunkbed. Someone is standing in front of it and is asking us a question as if this was a lecture. It's about the warning system for extreme weather. No one seems to know the answer. I know I know the answer, but I can't think of the correct word in English for the name of the system, though I know its workings. Matter of fact, I can't even think of the correct name in Dutch.

> There's something with a sort of library where I stayed for a few hours. I walk out of there, laptop in hand, but I gotta pay a type of parking fee. That fee seems to be in the range of 80 - 90 something (not sure which currency). It's a really high amount.

I am on the school bus on the way to school. I realize that I am standing in the middle of the isle, slowly walking to the front of the bus. Then the bus driver yells at me, and I sit down, in the wrong seat. I laugh at my stupidity and push my finger through my hand to see if I am dreaming, but it doesn't work. I move one.
I am in my school library with my classmates. It is first hour. Rosa Parks is going to be coming to school to give a presentation. I remember thinking that she already died, but I dismiss the idea. When she comes, she is the only one standing, everyone else is sitting. I think that she should get a chair because she is so old. All of a sudden, she is sitting down.
I am back on the school bus at the end of the day. It is my stop. I walk up to the front of the bus to get off, but I realize that I forgot to bring my backpack, water bottle, and eos from my seat. I go back to my seat to get them, but they are scattered under the seat of the bus. I do an RC, but it doesn't work, so I move on.