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Morning of September 17, 1977. Saturday.



This was of a new period of lucid dreaming for me as well as higher vividness. 1977 was an unusual year for this. In my dream, I had fallen asleep on the living room couch (I had absentmindedly written “leaving room” instead of “living room” in the original entry). Through the glass panes of my atypical bedroom door (which did not close normally but rather squeezed into the doorway with some noisy difficulty), I see an unusual variation of the mystery girl. The level of vividness is extreme and fully in-body and I try to control my in-dream breathing a bit more than usual. I watch her through the glass as the glass panes seem much bigger than in reality (seeming to “grow”, actually). She is making references to riding the carousel with her…an actual carousel somehow in my room (or on the other side of the “mirror” aka window panes), although there is minor influence from having seen the first episode of “Logan’s Run” (the television series). In that show, the carousel meant death (at the age of thirty) but in the dream, it is only slightly ominous. There is a lot of in-dream “energy” or “vibration” that mostly only occurred in particular dream-types related to the mystery girl.

Over time, the carousel takes on a strange appearance, somewhat like a round, rotating wooden dock, almost like a circular version of part of the “Gunsmoke” set, as if the carousel was somewhat like a soap bubble where parts of it faded over time before it vanished completely. The imagery of this part of the dream came to match exactly - a large drawing my wife’s mother had done in Nimbin (with several copies in her family) long before I saw it in reality (and regardless of the high unlikelihood of someone making a drawing of that nature, which incidentally also included the theme of a divine or “twin soul” marriage - I mean, who else would associate a rotating carousel with nuances of a rotating circular “Gunsmoke” set or “ghost town”?). In real-life, the carousel my wife had actually been on during that same time was eventually dismantled (in Australia) and ended up where I lived in America, any of these things being the tip of the iceberg in thousands of unlikely parallels and precognitive nuances.

In my dream, I end up going through the glass somehow. I end up in some sort of business office where a group called “IRO” (possibly based on a fictional in-dream name of a male named Iro?) is holding a meeting about an upcoming novel called “Reflections”, which was apparently going to be written by the mystery girl (yet remain unpublished in “my” dimension - it was as if I was in an “alternate version of the future”). There is a discussion relating to refugees from Hungary, though at the time I had no conscious associations with “International Refugee Organization” and did not even think about the additional significance until many years later. (My wife’s father was technically a refugee during the Roma “ethnic cleansing” and escaped to Australia). (In real life, my wife had also written an unpublished novel called “Reflections” before I ever made real-life contact with her, continuing my usual tip-of-the-iceberg run.)

It seems unusual for me to be where I am and I wonder if I should stay, though I get the impression I would miss out on ten or more years of my life. I engage in a conversation with one male who asks me why I am able to focus on my dreams (and “other dimensions”) so well and document them and research as much as possible, to “solve” things. I tell him that if I had not done so, I would only seem to be “half here”. I must be an exception to the rule. Billions of other people do not seem to have that interest in being “complete” or actively in search of purpose. I am not sure if the male leader is called Iro or again if it is just a group name. I also get the impression of a younger sister of the mystery girl being called Rugboe. However, this comes to be a distortion of “Rugby”, which I did not learn of until years later (after moving to Australia).

A male asks me if I think that other people actually exist on “my” side other then myself, my “predestined” mate, and a handful of other people and I am not sure what he means. It almost seems like this other in-dream “pocket world” is only a business building where about six or seven men exist, forever in a “business meeting” of sorts.

Eventually, I understand that I cannot stay in this “other realm” much longer. There is a vague awareness that it is “parallel” to my Cubitis bedroom and I even seem to be in my room as such at times (many in-dream locations, as well as more often being composites, sometimes seem to “hold” two or more places at the same time while also existing in their own space). I do have more parts of the “puzzle”, though. I decide to think about this mystery girl again, and her unpublished “Reflections” novel. Maybe I will actually meet her one day…the carousel event and “Little Red Feather” being two other clues. The man asks me if “Little Red Feather” is my “real name” and I answer with no, not at all, it is the name of a toy plastic figure given to me by a cousin (Evelyn W) when I was six. I suppose the mystery girl is puzzled at this.

…particularity as my yet-to-be wife had an “imaginary” playmate of that name in Australia at the time…long before we made “real” contact…

There are certain things you never come back from, and which you cannot “unlearn” no matter how many millions of people “exist differently”.

Night of September 13, 1977. Tuesday.



In real life, my father had come home from his work rather early and came into my room to give me a book. “She told me to give this to you,” he said. Who did he mean? Jenny? Likely not. My father would not have directed any attention to the concept of ghosts at that point, especially “fresh” ghosts, ghosts only about a month old. “I found it in the window seat,” he said. He said it was the only thing on the property. Anywhere. It was a children’s book about a white kangaroo. I did not ask him who “she” was or who he thought the book had belonged to. He went back to work, riding there on his bicycle, a considerable distance (I had no idea why he felt the need to do this), working for a dollar an hour when everyone else was earning five or more. For his age, his stamina was incredible, including when he rode a bicycle across the United States, twice, in his seventies.

Even though I was sixteen and the book was obviously for a much younger age group, I kept it for awhile, though it did not make the journey to Wisconsin with me. Looking over my dream journals at the time, I discovered two older dreams about a “cataroo”, both on September 13th, one in 1973, the other in 1974. As the “cataroo” (upper half of cat, back half of kangaroo) rescued me in one dream, this “white kangaroo” business seemed benevolent and somehow reassuring. Still, it was an intriguing “coincidence”. This was before I came to learn how to trace precise synchronicity-based layers over the years that seemed “drawn” to a particular date for whatever reason. I came to think that it could possibly “explain” some aspects of precognition, but still did not explain “non-local mind” or remote viewing. After all, many people know that Christmas will arrive on the 25th of December. How difficult is that? Apparently too difficult a concept for the majority.

In my dream, I think of my father exploring the mostly empty recesses of either ruined lives or those who could not settle down and for whatever reason had to move on. (“You stay out of my piccalilli farrago!” What? No exploration allowed? Did curiosity ever actually kill a cat?) Each and every person left behind one thing. Only one item. Perhaps one “clue” to use as a “key” for whatever purpose. Not all dreams are like this of course, but those that remain with certain persistent residual feelings and seeming links that others would never see even if they studied something for centuries.

At this point in my life (age sixteen, in September of 1977), I saw the world, for the most part, as jealous, murderous, and completely insane - and with very good reason. Those who were not insane were innocent and refused to do a single thing against the dominant problematic aggressors. Whoever you interacted with could easily be “removed”. Even after countless warnings and direct signs, no one listened.

My dream girl aka “imaginary girlfriend” as best friend Toby called her (though he did have honest interest in my dream work, unlike some) noted the white kangaroo book. She told me she would “hold one for me” when I was to make contact with her in the “real” world (whatever that is) years from then. She said her human form would not necessarily realize this. Her angelic goddess essence would always be present…somewhere. It seems funny to hear a dream character talking about their “human form”. It was not that I would ever need “confirmation”. The “clues” I knew of were already virtually endless. If I had started to write every miraculous “coincidence” that came directly to me, I would never stop writing.

The voices of truth cannot be silenced. People can lie. People can pretend. People deny that love exists. People deny that anything beyond mundane human life exists (and thus even their “dreams” are mundane and linear). Some people seem to enjoy denying the universe itself. Perhaps they even deny the existence of life itself.

Morning of September 6, 1977. Tuesday.



This was a long dream as a teen (seemingly with a few “resets” in the first versions), first dreamt in Cubitis in 1977. It recurred many times over several years (until the movie “The Fly” 1986 version was released and in which a scene matched my much older dream). The “soundtrack” of later versions was the music from the movie “The Black Hole” (1979) which I had the soundtrack record of.

Lisa M and her family are moving back to Cubitis, having driven down Highway Seventeen from the south, though I am not sure why. It is seemingly midnight or just after when they pull stealthily into their driveway (of tiny broken up seashells, bits of clam shells, and sand). I run and inform my parents regardless of the later hour, with somewhat of a sense of awe. (In reality, ironically, she had begun public high school for the first time after her family moved - the same one I would have went to - but shortly after I stopped going.)

In my dream, a fictional song called “Grasshopper” (supposedly by Kenny Rogers) was part of my “dream-movie’s” background music in later versions. (Two of the lines of the song were “When we were kids we used to play in the backyard” and “Grasshopper, grasshopper, come back to me” - slightly similar to the melody of “Matchmaker” from “Fiddler on the Roof” - possible association with the grasshopper fiddling in the “Ant and the Grasshopper” fable.)

Over time, I learn of some unusual and disturbing issues; “this” Lisa was not the “original” Lisa; at one point, something to do with being right-handed or left-handed due to an injury from doing cartwheels, I think, which is based on a distorted memory of a story about losing virginity when doing too many cartwheels or riding a horse. The “new” Lisa is some sort of shape-shifting creature, possibly from another planet (though this is not certain). The grasshopper as a deuteragonist may be associated with Jiminy Cricket relative to morals and conscience (or presumed guilt), though greatly augmented.

Later, a human skeleton is found in the concrete flower-box in front of where my bedroom is (outer west-most wall) when some new coleus plants are to be put in by my mother. Surprisingly, it turns out to be the real Lisa’s skeletal remains. It seems that the creature had somehow taken at least partial control of the parents to move “back home” to produce offspring. This mind control wears off at one point. (The focus on death is likely more about Jenny C, who was murdered about a month earlier by another male a couple years younger than me). This also loosely foreshadowed a real-life experience I had while fishing one morning. My mother had used plastic milk jugs as filler for the flower box. When I reeled my line in at one point, I mistook a plastic milk jug filled with sediment for a human skull, which gave me palpitations a temporary shock.

The fake Lisa had vanished when the news was spread about the shape-shifting alien invader. I later (for reasons I am not certain of) communicate with her again very late at night. It turns out that the real Lisa had been deliberately replaced by the female grasshopper-like creature that could mimic people (much like the movie “Mimic” that came out years later but the creature being far more human-like in my dream).

Earlier versions of my dream ended with the same scene as in the new version of “The Fly” (1986) where the large insect “foot”/leg moves out and comes down in the same way with the same timing, personal mood and reflection, and “color” upon my seeing the movie for the first time. There is one final scene where a small white shaggy dog (unknown Maltese) is barking at the creature as I fall backwards in my presumed “death”. (This turns out to have been precognitive of my wife’s life as related in the June 2014 dream “A Long Journey with my Wife”.)

Parts of later versions of my dream seemed similar to scenes from “Five Million Years to Earth” (1967) as well (“Quatermass and the Pit”). She becomes a mother and produces thousands of locust-like creatures that destroy the world; nothing but empty trees and bare ground as far as the eye can see, which again, uses the soundtrack from “The Black Hole” (same ending theme to my “dream movie”). Grasshopper-like creatures leap around almost like a sense of playful horses from an underside view, but…no more people, ever (other than myself). (There is no logical pondering of what will happen when all the vegetation is gone, which would likely be not that far into the future as I already see a lot of leafless trees over the infested landscape.)

Morning of August 15, 1967. Tuesday. (Daughter Amelia’s birthday in 1998.) Rough overhead “map” now included. Confusion stems from the fact that Amelia is supposedly in the airplane as well as on the ground with me (though on one level it may be her spirit on the ground with me rather than her implied physical form otherwise “duplicated” in the airplane) and we are facing away from the event even though it is also “clear” that we are watching it somehow.



I dreamt of being in my yard with Amelia Earhart. This is in the southern part of my yard at North Monroe Street in Florida. We are facing directly to the south even though the plane seems to need to be viewed north of us, but it seems as if I am (while disembodied) viewing the scene at one point from south of where I (physical form) am standing, my “real” incorporeal self looking northward and seeing myself (that is, my “real” incorporeal me - and my actual view - is facing the other dream-rendering of me in my physical form) and the plane is gong down to the left from my “real” view - yet she acknowledges this as if facing the event (rather than it being behind her as it is in my dream view). Amelia stands on my “other self’s” right. An old-fashioned Lockheed plane is going down diagonally in the sky as if in distress, with sparse smoke trailing behind it somewhat. I am somehow aware that she is my mother, even though I am informed by her that she is my daughter, which creates an intense puzzlement in the dream state, as it was also as if she was watching her own plane (with her own self in it) burning out and falling from the sky (with the likelihood of crashing somewhere in the distance). She is telling me how she crashed (or possibly only landed roughly without that much damage) on an island and something about the Japanese possibly shooting her down. There is an unusual mood that she may have been my “real mother” (possibly implied by the idea that on this date Will Rogers, a relative on my mother’s side, died in an airplane crash with Wiley Post, the first pilot to fly solo around the world and Amelia wanted to be the first woman to do this). Near the end, the imagery of Amelia and myself takes on a sort of grainy monotone appearance.

In real life, before we met, Zsuzsanna and I had decided our first daughter (if we had one) would be called “Amelia”, but not because of my dream (and it was in fact the name Zsuzsanna already chose and gave me over the telephone before she knew of “my” Amelia and dream history). At any rate, the August 15th marker regarding the foreshadowing of my daughter’s birth exists every year from earliest childhood up to the time she was born, as do most precognitive markers and is something I have never seen other people honestly address (other than with shortsighted denial and no viable understanding of dreams).

For a closer look at this dream and its real (native) meaning (as well as lifelong markers that many dreams have as well as unexplainable synchronicity related in the next paragraph), it is a very basic and very common (for me) “failed flight” waking transition; that is, something falling from the sky as representing the dreamer waking up (a subtle variation of the primary biological waking mechanism sometimes inclusive of a falling sensation and a hypnic jerk). The airplane (which most often represents a deeper potential of the dream state) is on fire because fire also represents light of day and dawning consciousness in this case. “Failed flight” does not typically mean anything negative as it simply means naturally waking from the “flight” (and “displacement”) of a dream (and this same waking transition can be seen in tens of thousands of other dreams, including those with meteors which is directly analogous to this dream’s content as well).

Additional layers and long-term markers: Wiley Post and Will Rogers (my mother’s cousin) died on this date in a plane crash (and information on my family connections, father as well as mother, can be found in books such as “The Papers of Will Rogers: From vaudeville to Broadway” and “Cowgirls of the Rodeo”). That does not invalidate the synchronicity with our daughter’s birth date; in fact, it confirms it since there are over fifty other date-relevant markers for her birth, most prior to my meeting Zsuzsanna.

Morning of February 9, 1977. Wednesday.



Dream Series: The Experience of Prescience, the Inexplicable Dream State Phenomenon. Part 4

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This dream’s main setting is an unusual variation of my Cubitis home. The shed is not present in the northern part of the backyard and one area near where the front of it would otherwise be is the side of a trailer that is oriented north to south, where two of my older brothers, Dennis and Jim, supposedly live (though they are living in Wisconsin at the time in reality, not Florida). The location of the main focus or dream’s climax is the exact same spot in the north side yard where my “mystery girl” revealed herself for the final time in this particular setting in a later dream (and also above where the body of Christ was literally buried in a childhood dream - eventually indicating I was the “son of the universe” in this cycle of existence), with the exact appearance (and unlikely accent) in every way, as my wife-to-be, Zsuzsanna, before we ever met in reality or even viably knew that we were real to each other.

An unknown beautiful dark-haired green-eyed girl (with the usual mixed Hungarian and Australian accent) features in my dream, thoug again, she has the same appearance as my lifelong “mystery girl” (dream girl of otherworldly beauty). She carries a sword which sometimes has a blue sheen and she wears some sort of unusual bikini-like outfit composed of teal-colored reptilian scales. Where I have a large scar on my left wrist, she has only a small scar on her left wrist. (In reality, Zsuzsanna has a smaller scar like a section of mine on her left wrist in the exact same spot where it matches mine. We got them in the same way; by falling onto a broken glass mug shard.)

At one point, I enter the trailer (its door otherwise in the same area the shed door would have been, though it is elevated). Jim and Dennis are not there, yet I have no doubt about the “reality” of this dream. I become impatient and angry at not finding my “mystery girl” after she is not present for a time, so angry that I tip over the shelves containing my brothers’ cassettes and records and such. I then make all the chairs fly about with telekinesis for a time as well as my literal “turning the tables” act, where I will a table to spin about and change its original orientation.

However, my “mystery girl” appears again in the next-to-last segment of this dream. She tells me that it is not my time to be with her yet and says she must “return to the Source”. I am not sure what it is all about. She is to be my bride, so I become impatient and reach out to her. She tells me that I will meet her in seventeen years in Australia. She seems to shrink, become younger and younger, and over time, becomes a gecko and scurries off southward. (In real life, I met Zsuzsanna in Australia exactly seventeen years after this dream, on February 9, 1994.)

I walk quickly south (covering more ground than would be possible in reality), thinking I might see her again, and, as is often the case, there is shallow water in many areas, but curiously, some swimming pools are mostly somehow empty while parts of the ground are lightly flooded (a variation of the very common water lowering waking symbolism, signifying the cessation of the dream state).

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Morning of November 29, 1976. Monday.



My older brother Earl (half-brother on my mother’s side whose father died on September 23, 1950, age 39, in a newspaper van accident) is in the process of completing his work in building a spacecraft which looks like the classic 1950s flying saucer, at first (though the appearance changes). He tests it around town and people often stop to see what is going on. I am with a friend and he also seems interested in this endeavor.

In the last part of my dream it seems my brother intends on leaving Earth and not coming back. The flying saucer takes off ominously into the sky in the afternoon and narrowly misses a clock tower, flying very slowly at first, nearly hovering in one spot at times. There is a very vivid awareness at this point. Regardless of a couple near misses with the tops of buildings, it successfully flies away. At this point it looks a lot like the Flying Sub from the television series “Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea”. Shortly after this, I do not see any sign of where he has gone.

My (unfamiliar supposed classmate) friend and I are discussing his life as we are walking along through an alley, seemingly south. He asks me, “How old was your brother?” and I say “Thirty-six,” waking up slowly to the unusual sadness in my voice.

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I had to do a lot of research on this to make sure it presently stands as correct as possible (regardless of later versions which have proven to be even more ambiguous). My brother died on November 29, 2007 (age 67, way too young in my opinion), so there is indeed a (long-term precognitive) marker here, one clue (unknown at the time) being the clock tower.

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This dream has the typical waking transition of the flight symbol, but it appears as an extraordinary atypical composite (with layered meaning) here, firstly as a flight symbol that metaphorically shows the essence of the dreamer successfully leaving the dream state (in contrast to the far more common directly perceived “falling” event). However, it is a “flying sub” which means it also comes from deep within the unconscious (or even collective conscious or the Source’s) realm. It is also a spaceship, which relates to tentative associations between waking self and full conscious self memory. I should add an additional note here that my brother also owned a Stingray (car), and of which the marine animal called a stingray resembles the Flying Sub. This dream also seems like a subtle “continuation” of my “Rocket Science?” dream, from earlier this year.

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Just because a dream is influenced by, say, television, does not mean it is dismissible. The foundations of non-lucid dreams will borrow anything and everything to metaphorically display the sleeping, dreaming, and waking process. The day before this dream, I had seen a CBS report on UFOS as well as as Nova’s “The Case of the Bermuda Triangle” (featuring the ocean of course and loosely associated with UFOs, perhaps even “flying subs”).

Morning of September 12, 1976. Sunday.



In my dream, I find myself at what seems to be the bottom of the sea, though it does not seem that I am really that far underwater. It actually only seems that I am in about ten feet of water or less. There are a few different kinds of large sharks swimming near me, but I do not feel threatened.

There is something about retrieving a wallet, though I cannot recall if it is mine or not. For some reason, I am aware of at least one important credit card (possibly more) - Mastercard I think, with possible associations with implications of the word “master” - and possibly some identification cards or folded documents in the wallet I am to retrieve. I can easily breathe underwater, and move about somewhat as if swimming.

My dream takes on an odd ambiguity, almost like two simultaneous dreams (both “deep in the ocean” and “looking at city features”), or at least implied bilocated settings. Above me, I look up through a “transparent” floor (as if I have X-ray vision) and notice at least one girl in a skirt walking above me in a presumed office - though I do not feel any significant voyeurism-based interest regarding this imagery and perspective and it is also unlikely that the building above me is actually over the water, as it seems like a business building somehow being seen from elsewhere. However, it may also be a high school with a young teacher present, though I see no one else. There may have been an odd level of foreshadowing and self-fulfilling prophecy here. A few years later, when “going back to school” in a manner of speaking at WWTI (after moving back to Wisconsin) to get my GED (or so-called high school equivalency), I got a student ID card for the first time ever. After the term I absentmindedly threw it over a bridge over the Black River.

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High school (my tenth grade classes) had started on August 30th, but I did not go until September 13th, due to having recently had an operation on my hand, and I was also still in pain for a couple weeks after my surgery. This dream may have related to the concept of trying to find my “identification” (or place at school) while starting tenth grade with certain students perceived as “sharks”, or potential bullies as well as either “getting credit” for doing school work or getting school credits in a metaphorical association.

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For an indeterminable reason, this dream seemed somehow “linked” to another completely unrelated and later dream (perhaps being somehow associated with the “same” presumed fictional town at one point) about a fictional movie or documentary about the “1910 Fruitgum Company” (an American bubblegum pop band of the 1960s) as if it was a real company. At one point, I watch while flying or floating from above, a 1922 red Phaeton (long-term-recurring dream feature) going down a street. It is implied that “Winchester Cathedral” (which I vaguely seem to hear playing at least once in my dream) is “their” song, when it was actually done by The New Vaudeville Band in reality. On one level, this may have been a subtle desire to “return to the past” (or at least review it).

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Morning of April 9, 1966. Saturday.



This, I believe is the first version of this dream, a day before Easter.

I am in an unknown region. There is an isolated house in the forest but near a winding path. Oddly, the house seems “cut in half” in that some outer walls seem to be missing but a family still lives there. The imagery is intriguing and appeared in other dreams with different themes later on, including some featuring the “mystery girl”.

I am aware of a real, living wolf, but am also aware of the “ghost” of Little Red Riding Hood, who is wearing a white riding hood and is mostly glowing all over, a white light with a lighter bluish tint. She seems somewhat sad and lost. I talk with her but do not recall the conversation - there is an unusual awareness of peace at one point as if she is to be a long-term part of my life. The association may be related to a basket she is carrying being filled with Easter eggs, but I also get the impression they will hatch at a later date rather than being eaten. Even though my dream implies she is a spirit and that the wolf has possibly already eaten her, there is still a strong presence of her in my dream. She is dark-haired and green-eyed and very pretty. There is no direct threat from the wolf although I do see it looking down from a ridge in Chipmunk Coulee (recurring).

Interestingly, the only other time I saw this precise dream imagery was of an actual “incomplete” house in a photo my wife-to-be had sent to me many years later. This, like many other dreams, seemed to establish a connection to my beautiful wife (and “dream girl”) a couple years or so before she was even born.

Morning of February 14, 1976. Saturday.



In the first part of 1973 (February), which repeated with more detail in 1974 and 1976 (the Bicentennial year, which some of the final version of my dream seems to partially reflect), I had a fairly long dream (that varied in semi-lucidity and in-dream awareness from time to time) in which the main subject was a localized Nazi Germany (Hitler is mostly only seen in shadow looking out a somewhat modern-looking window as if from an apartment building - apparently he also “dubs” - makes dub music, or produces it) that was limited to the range of the cow pasture to the east of our home in Cubitis, Florida. To the south from there was a localized Afghanistan, to which Hitler goes to with a large cavalcade of jeeps with various colorful flags - not sure if it is a conquest - but the feel is not so “warlike” - at least with a personal perception - and Osbourne “King Tubby” Ruddock is riding with Hitler, decorated with all sorts of awards for valor or some such. To have “little countries” in the region did not seem odd. It also seems like some sort of alliance, but there are rows and rows of weird flags from hundreds of other countries along the length of train tracks, both real and fictional (including a United Nations flag).

My dream featured my father at the end (C. Clarence “Rider” as in one version of the song, C. C. Rider, See See Rider, etc. - although he was actually known for very long bicycle trips, not motorcycles). We had the same name. In my dream, for some reason, he has a black motorcycle (probably a 1962 Harley). On the front of his motorcycle is some sort of shield (very similar to what an interstate highway sign looks like) with the number 79 on it in red. Near the end of my dream, I am moving rather oddly, with my fists going up and around in a sort of unnatural weird leaping run. We are in the area near the train tracks and halfway in the middle (and going north) of our neighbor’s orange grove (in real life he only ever mowed the front row of his grove, and the empty area near the tracks - which I thought to be a bit strange as rattlesnakes could hide in all the high weeds). I hear a strange humming and buzzing that is rather musical. At first I think it must be Hitler playing his “Death March/Funeral March” (as jeeps roll out behind us near the train tracks) but it turns out to be the motorcycle’s engine humming that song in a very strange and simplistic (but sped up) electronic way. There is a very weird mood in my dream. It is not sad, just slightly eerie. I keep trying to walk and run normally as I try to keep up with my father but I keep leaping oddly.

Finally, instead of saying “Every Good Boy Does Fine” (the treble line notes) to talk about the music - a line he repeated now and then in real life, he softly says “Every Good Boy Dies” (with no “F” note represented) and soon, he rides off, I cannot catch up - This sheet music motif was actually on his tombstone in real life several years later (on the design request of a half-sister I had hardly ever communicated with - see image). There is no sadness, anger, or fear, just a vague sense of awe, mostly related to the weird “humming” motorcycle engine that continues to play “Funeral March” (Chopin) about twice as fast as standard. The audio in my dream was identical (with all the same tones and nuances) to the Commodore 64 Jumpman death theme (when he falls and loses a life) that I did not hear in real life until several years later (1980s, a few years after my father died) and I was also moving exactly like Jumpman (even the same in mid-leap form) regarding the weird leaping - convincing evidence of very precise precognition for years ahead.

In real life at the time, I was making electronic dub music in a very simplistic, limited way as well as other strange recordings and comedy routines with my friends. One “trick” was that I had removed the erasing heads from a tape deck so that any new recording would layer over the first (but required precise timing), but the sound’s highs would be lost on each prior layer (so it was more viable to do the bass first and then build up from each A-based range, 55, 110, 220, 440, 880, etc). Another thing I did was to keep recording layers back and forth with two tape players, but again, it required precise timing, and the tape players’ capstan tolerance levels could not be that variable, because the track would either eventually sound slowed down or sped up (which was why it was common knowledge at the time that if you dubbed that way, you should have two same-brand tape decks not more than a few serial numbers apart). My father bought secondhand cassette decks and tape players almost on a weekly basis at the weekend flea markets just north of us and we sometimes rigged rather odd setups - my father built a large speaker set with several variously sized speakers as well as owning a very large and powerful dancehall amplifier for a time - one of the built-in effects was the exact same sound the vocal uses at the end of the original “Crimson and Clover” with the wavering pseudo-tremolo.

Additional notes:

My father died on February 14, 1979 (79 being the number on the shield on the front of the motorcycle in my dream.)

Adolph Dubs (United States Ambassador to Afghanistan) died on February 14, 1979.

Much here would have been missed had I not documented this one more closely. For example, I did not even catch the “cycle of death” play until quite recently. Given that most precognitive layers within a particular dream come from different time periods yet to unfold, and just as dreams combine aspects of the past somewhat ambiguously, it is also typical to miss combined otherwise unrelated patterns (for example Adolph Dubs, Jumpman, and my father’s death really were not connected in any way). As it is, hundreds of dreams before age nine related directly to my wife-to-be with such precise nuances as to be like one “big picture” already being determined and built long before I become aware in reality.

Morning of December 12, 1965. Sunday.



Summary of meaning: In the need to wake from a vivid dream state (from needing to get up and use the bathroom), my emergent consciousness is rendered as a bull crashing through the wall, as a wall symbolizes the metaphorical divisions of consciousness and the “other side of liminal space” between dreaming and waking. In this case, it seems my father was the parallel symbolism to the bull in representing my more urgent need to wake. The bull’s horn, being pointed and similar to a bird’s beak in hypnopompic physical anticipation (which is experienced as a jab in the lower back), may be a factor.

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I am sitting with a few family members, the two closest being two brothers-in-law, Bob and Verdell, and they are apparently drinking beer. (Verdell is on my right.) I am not sure of whose house we are in (possibly my older sister Carol’s, as it does not seem like Chipmunk Coulee, but it may be a unique composite of both). There are two couches along each wall, perpendicular to each other, with a small end table towards the corner from one couch. Everyone seems cheerful at first.

There is a sudden feeling of impending danger. A bull crashes through the wall from near the corner of the room, directly from in front of me, knocking plaster and such about.

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This dream was recurring for a short time. In one version, Verdell actually says “look out for the bull” at the moment of waking. This was before I ever saw or heard of the “look out for the bull” Schlitz Malt Liquor commercial on television and also before I grew up and worked for Ford Taurus where I was injured on my right wrist by someone throwing a sharp metal part back down the line from them not being able to keep up (though the commercial is more relevant to dream content regarding prescience).

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Night of November 2, 1965. Tuesday.



I consider this a paranormal dream for several reasons, including the fact that it repeated exactly many years later (as a surfacing memory, but I almost passed out in the intensity - one of the only times that this has ever happened in my lifetime in this manner as I was walking down the sidewalk at night) just before reaching my sister Marilyn’s house and hearing about my sister Carol having a heart attack. There was no prior clue to this event (and in fact, Carol was in possibly the lowest risk group for heart attacks, being a younger female and having no medical history as such in the family, but she did recover), and my “vision” (second occurrence of this dream) actually seemed to “tell” me this as well (before arriving at sister Marilyn’s house).

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This was a late night dream with possibly two layers, a real-life “replay” (or composite memory) of a visit from sister Carol later at night, and the superimposition of the giant bat.

I am viewing the scene directly, but I am possibly incorporeal, as it would seem I should be sleeping at the time. It seems fairly late at night. My sister Carol is visiting my home on Chipmunk Coulee. She has gotten out of the car and is in our front yard. I believe my parents come out to see her. She does not seem to acknowledge me.

Suddenly, from out of the dark of the night, comes a giant bat. It is about as great in wingspan as a car is long. My sister Carol ducks down with a sense of fear and puzzlement. I sense her emotions but do not feel threatened myself. Still, I do feel that something may “eventually” happen to her at a later date. It moves over her from only about three feet from the top of her head. There is no clear awareness of it other than the darkness, the wings, and the movement (for example, no sight of the bat’s “face”, feet, or more discernible wing detail).

The repeat of this vivid dream (I would say lucid as I did perceive it was only a vivid dream at one point, which was why there was not a stronger fear of it) was not at all like a usual surfacing memory but an actual “replay” that almost knocked me out and probably would have if not being slightly “faster” (or “time-compressed”) than the 1965 version at one point.

It is possible that the supraconscious only brought up this dream again, more “quickly” in unfolding to “match” the approaching event of learning about my sister Carol as this was the only dream I recall where sister Carol seemed to be in danger.

A “borrowed” dream to be “rewired” as precognitive? Either that, or I saw myself receiving the news many years ahead rather than an hour or so. There are different ways to look at all unexplainable events, “superstition” or “coincidence” being an unacceptable farce regarding an experience such as this.

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Induction factor: darkness of night. The setting is known and realistic and mostly private (though relatives are visiting). My parents are present as well as my sister Carol (half-sister on my mother’s side) and seemingly at least a couple other relatives. I have a very clear awareness but may be implied to be incorporeal though still perceiving everything at normal head height. Return flight factor features as a giant bat. The mood was of a growing awe but not a strong fear. Additional coalescence factor: the shadow. Possible explanation: This is an unexplainable one in how it vividly and exactly repeated in a precognitive sense (while not asleep) years later.

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Morning of September 8, 1975. Monday.



This dream was much as if I was watching some sort of strange “wavy” cartoon yet with a rendering that made it seem at least ninety percent “real” or live-action regarding the vivid imagery. A Saint Bernard appears and ends up in a cave full of bats, where he is bitten a few times - though sometimes it seems to be in an underground chamber where the dog then emerges from near the roots of a tree. He then either gets rabies or becomes vampiric and attacks his family (where there is at least one young boy). I do not see much happening and my dream seems to “reset” several times, sometimes with the events not rendered very well and sped up a bit, yet almost seeming like an “old memory” at times and bilocated in my Cubitis living room where I also seem to be “sleeping” in the northwest corner - though I am actually in my bed in reality. I am aware of a name that is like “Cool Joe” (after Snoopy from the “Peanuts” comic strip, a reversal of “Joe Cool” and first seen May 27, 1971).

In my dream, I was also aware of the name Castle Rock, which is interestingly the name of the fictional town in the novel. The dog also seems to be a sheepdog at one point after one “reset”. This has subtle links to my “Time Divergence” dream (July 4, 1976) and a strange repeating dream experience (and my perception of time extremely altered) related to “Hardcastle and Mccormick”, which I almost always misremembered as “Hardcastle and Rock”. As I have noted before, sometimes these experiences seem more related to incidental word associations through a “higher source” at times, rather than having any real meaning, almost as if the Source is playing some sort of “trick” to see if people are paying attention.

This was surely precognitive with quite a detailed perspective (though there are significant differences in my dream and the actual novel and movie), though rather pointless as with much precognition. The novel apparently did not come out until 1981 (which still feels extraordinarily odd to me as I still feel and “remember” that it came out years before that, before I moved from Florida in 1978), though it is perhaps not impossible that there was talk of it beforehand, though I do not recall reading anything on this and I really did not have access to much news when living in Cubitis during this time. Oddly, I also dreamt about scenes from the movie “Firestarter” (as well as many other movies) before the novel even came out. I have never been sure of why this happens or what the connections (if any) are. Also, it is one of hundreds of more detailed precognitive dreams I did not really think about until several years later. I did not even realize when I saw “Cujo” in real life that it had actually come much later than my dream details. On a side note, Stephen King discusses “Cujo” in “On Writing”, referring to it as a novel he “barely remembers writing at all”.

Morning of May 29, 1965. Saturday. (Memorial Day weekend - age four.)



In an odd “twist” on comical partial precognition (which has been very common for me throughout my life), I dreamt (semi-lucid) at age four, in Chipmunk Coulee in Wisconsin, that my father drove us to the “edge of the world” just beyond the end of a road that just stopped. There, a thin red devil (with a narrow beard) danced with a pitchfork in an almost comical way (as in the “Hot Stuff” comic book with “Grandpa Blaze”, who often looked different, though), but there was concern that nothing else existed beyond that area beyond the fence and gate (assumed in my dream), where he lived in a grass hut or haystack? or some such, that was always catching on fire and needed to be put out by a team of chipmunks somehow (water-filled nut-shells?). The world would have just a smooth cliff-like drop and nothing beyond.

In real life, the same afternoon as the morning of this dream, my father got directions from someone mixed up, and ended up driving down a road that actually did come to a sudden end and he talked about the “end of the road” - which, in my young mind, caused me to contemplate that it was as far as one could travel in that direction (south). A thin farmer with a pitchfork approached our car, giving me a somewhat uneasy feeling (thinking of my dream) of being near the “edge of the world”. The seemingly annoyed farmer looked at us suspiciously at first but gave my father instructions on what roads to take from there.

Note to self: I see that I still have the bad habit of writing “chimpmunk” instead of chipmunk, even after all these years.

Morning of November 3, 1974. Sunday.

Dream #: 2,876-07. Reading time: 52 sec.



In my dream, Susan R is sitting outside on a brick fence in Arcadia late at night, and I am standing, facing her. She tells me that something will eventually be happening to take me on a different path, away from her (implying destiny, with a sense of finality and certainty).

On cue, a Catherine wheel detaches, or someone throws it from somewhere unknown in the distance (perhaps three or four blocks away), and it moves high up into the sky. I think of shooting stars (even though the feature is first going upward before arcing downward). I am unsure what could have propelled it like this. Susan tells me that I will hear my name in a song relative to this event. My “dream girl” (Zsuzsanna before we met) connects to my destiny.

Though there is the essence of eeriness, it is not ominous. I watch the small and distant object on an arced curve, soon resembling a glowing pinwheel. (The scenario seems partly influenced by reel three of a “Casper the Friendly Ghost” View-Master pack, titled “The Falling Star,” where an anthropomorphic five-pointed star befriends Casper.)

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The song “Catherine Wheels” (by Crowded House, 1993) uses my first name (Claude). Zsuzsanna and Paul Hester shared a brief correspondence, and he hugged her once in waking life.

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Morning of September 22, 1974. Sunday.

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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