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Morning of October 14, 2018. Sunday.

Dream #: 18,927-02. Reading time: 3 min 54 sec. Readability score: 69.

Note that Linda is not Linda in this dream. (See notes after main entry.)



In my dream, I am going to an amusement arcade in southside La Crosse with my niece, Linda. I am at the Loomis Street house. It is late at night, about fifteen minutes before midnight. It seems we will spend about an hour there and get the bus back to the Loomis Street house at about fifteen past one in the morning.

It seems we had walked north through the Loomis Street alley, as we are then walking east on Gillette Street to go to the Loomis and Gillette bus stop. I am puzzled as to why we are going somewhere so late at night for only about an hour or less of video game play. I check my right pants pocket to feel several American quarters (at least eight) and a few other coins, and I consider I may have enough for the bus trips and a few video games. (There is augmented tangibility at this point.)

As we arrive at the intersection, almost to the bus stop, my dream resets. Linda and I are now crossing from the east side of the street opposite the Loomis Street house. It is also early afternoon now.

An unfamiliar man is walking (on the west side of Loomis Street) with another man who is also unknown. They are both in their thirties. He is holding a gun to the other man’s head as they walk. The man holding the gun is on the other man’s right. The situation makes me wary, but we keep walking in front of them after we cross to their side (rather than avoiding them), heading to the same bus stop as in the previous scene. I briefly consider that we may be in danger, but that does not seem to be the case, as the man with the gun does not seem interested in us even as potential witnesses who could identify him later. As we get to the intersection, my dream resets for the second time (again, without triggering dream state recognition).

Linda and I are now about three blocks north of Loomis and Gillette in a (fictitious) commercial district and walking south on the west side of Loomis Street. It is afternoon. I am thinking about whether it would be worth it to be at the amusement arcade for only a short time. I am still erroneously considering the midnight to one o'clock span even though it is daylight. I am now wearing a hooded sweater with big pockets.

I decide that I should have a gun, as the man in the previous scene had a gun and I do not want to take any chances. I create a revolver in the right pocket of my hooded sweater (without lucidity). A policeman is in the area, though remains behind us. As I walk, the revolver, as I am holding it within the pocket, somehow comes out of the pocket and is at my side for a short time. As I continue, my arms swing with my gait in an exaggerated manner. I briefly ponder upon whether people will think I had forgotten how to walk correctly or deliberately trying to draw attention. I put my hand back into the pocket. I consider that if the policeman stops me, I will say that it is a 9mm blank firing Jaguar 80. He does not stop me.

As Linda and I walk to Loomis and Gillette from the north to get to the bus stop, my dream resets for the third time. Now we are walking west on the north side of Gillette Street, a few blocks west of the bus stop. (We had reached it before the reset.) She is ahead of me by a few feet and on the right. It is late morning. She is wearing baggy clothes; blue jeans and a pale blue blouse, and this puzzles me as I try to discern her form. She seems about ten years old. My conscious self identity is still not extant, but my dream self’s fictitious mind is losing cohesion, and my dream becomes more abstract in the waking process.

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[key descriptors]

subliminal ultradian rhythm thread (distorted)

intersection as RAS mediation (three dream resets)

preconscious avatar with a gun

preconsciousness as police activity (reticular formation personification)

coins as emergent consciousness cue (does not work here)

the man with the gun to the other man’s head is counter-processing, that is, potential RAS modulation over my precursory emerging consciousness as the opposite of my dream self paired with a potential reinducer

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[key ERRORS]

Erroneous discernment of induction simulacrum (Naiad) as my niece Linda when there is not the vaguest resemblance or waking life association. However, this is a result of my current conscious self identity being absent. Ultimately, the simulacrum has nothing to do with Linda (whom I have not seen in real life since 1994) and is a younger manifestation of Zsuzsanna.

Linda never lived at or stayed at the Loomis Street house.

I currently have no interest in playing video games, though when I was much younger, I did go to an amusement arcade in southside La Crosse to play pinball.

Loomis Street 1500 area erroneously continues north as an unfamiliar commercial district.

My dream resets three times (including late night becoming early afternoon) without dream state recognition, not because of failing to “become lucid” by popular definition, but because of the absence of my true conscious self identity. (Note the non-lucid dream control of my creation of the gun.)

My conscious self’s identity, as my dream self is trying to discern the simulacrum in the last scene, remains absent. However, the fact that it is ahead of me and to my right designates its transition from potential reinducer into the emerging consciousness avatar at this point.

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Me and another person were in a car. We were both preteens, and we were on our way to pull a heist or something of the sort. We were stopped by an elderly policeman because I was an underage driver. I saw myself having options on how to deal with the situation. I felt like I have been here before and picked the option to trick the policeman and escape. I also saw an option to beat him up with a blunt object. I decided to pick the latter out of curiosity. I hit him several times as he got more and more agitated and didn't see fazed by being hit, but he finally collapsed, although he didn't suffer any physical damage. I felt bad so we hauled him to the hospital.

The doctor thought we were just helpful kids. LIttle did she know that I caused this. She said that the man had suffered a stroke. So I suppose he didn't get hurt at all from being hit. Jeez, who's this guy, old Superman?

a
July 3, 2011
Type: Regular Dreams.
Lucidity: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Vividness: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10


Through out the night I had about 5 different dreams, none of which were little more than wandering around. Before these dreams I had something I have never encountered before, there were these extremely real and detailed still images of people. I saw these visions or images and waited for something to happen, for them to move or maybe start a dream or something but they just stood there. A dream started afterward but it had nothing to do with the images.

Pakistani Policeman
The first one was a Pakistani policeman. I looked intently at him for at least 30 seconds examining him but he never moved or blinked even.



Super Girl
Later was Super Girl. She seemed to be laughing otherwise this picture is a good copy.



Short Haired Woman
The third one was a short haired woman with blond hair. She looked a lot like this but was standing and was also laughing. I do have a reoccurring short haired girl but she is always brunette or black haired. She also seems more girlish but this blond seems older perhaps, at least mentally.


I have no clue why or what this means, if anything. To anyone who thinks they have an idea, leave a comment.

Morning of October 9, 1982. Saturday.



I am back in my Cubitis bedroom and I become lucid from an unknown cause (and I eventually shift into apex lucidity) but with a cautious awareness. For a time, I indulge in a lot of different scenes involving several different girls, who, for the most part, otherwise walk around enjoying themselves. I also enjoy developing various geometrical shapes in seemingly new combinations.

At one point, I fall into focusing on various connecting planes at different angles (for example, a couch, relative to the front at ninety degrees from the seat and how the arms are structured, the three-dimensional surfaces and angles enhancing my interest in dream structures). I also deliberately gaze into the eyes of one unknown female to see if I can see something special, yet all I see are the sort of lightning-like patterns (and sometimes cilia-like forms) that make up the irises and the “oil” which makes up the pupils. Still, I see myself in the pupil, which is mirror-like, the act being similar to looking into a Christmas tree ornament.

Over time, there are unusual physical effects. It seems as if I have been performing (sexually) for days. In the last segment (as I am thinking of what to do with my dream state and heightened clarity), I notice a dream character that seems to be lurking behind a doorway, but only his arms and hands are in view at first. I see that he is holding and pointing a pistol (though not at me at first as it almost seems that he plans on hiding a little longer). At this point, he is the only dream character other than myself.

“Come outta there!” I yell as a command.

“You’re under arrest!” the unfamiliar man addresses me cautiously.

Believing that I have no use for authority in my own dream, I do a hand motion and make him point the gun to his head but he struggles (and I have to increase my own will over the scene almost as if he has his own will power), saying “No, no, wait, I have something important to tell you!” Just as I am about to eliminate him (or feel that I could), I change my mind. Instead, I pause and decide to listen, because he almost seems a part of me. I get the impression that he is the last policeman to exist in “this world”.

I stand near the center of the living room, facing west (towards my bedroom doorway). He faces me, though a bit to my left. He lowers his gun and starts talking to me about my father (who had died on Valentine’s Day in 1979). (On one level, I seem to be aware of what he is going to say as if there is some sort of “automatic agreement”.) I realize that there had been guilt at not having performed in public with my father (or even being in the audience) at his last music venue. This seems somewhat profound, especially as the last words I ever heard him say (prior to his leaving to perform at the venue) “I sure wish you’d come with me”. Not feeling the connection to people or the interest to entertain or please them (aside from feeling out of place and uneasy in front of people at times), I did not have enough willpower to go. That was his last concert and in the middle, the very last words he said (to his audience), “looks like you’re going to have to play the jukebox from now on”.

From here, the policeman now seems sort of scruffy. He also now appears to be only about half my height. Still, he seems more relaxed with me. As he is looking down at the floor, he says “It’s time for a new movie”, what I take to mean a release of any and all guilt related to my father and how I was not with him in his last conscious moments, as he had in his own subtle way hinted at before leaving the house.

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This lucid dream had likely gone on a bit too long (as biologically, a dreamer must eventually wake). The personified preconscious is eventually rendered (via the emergent consciousness) and “arrests” me, though there is still some unusual trailing conversation. One of the meanings of “It’s time for a new movie” could actually mean that it is time to wake to dream again at a later date, though it may also relate to not replaying the reality-based “mental movie” of guilt concerning my father.

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