Recent DJ Posts

I’m at work and going to be reading a book aloud. I stand between listing and the CP counter, facing the warehouse. The book looks like a kids book, and there are people sitting in a few rows of desks. I prepare myself and also can’t find the beginning of what I’m supposed to read. I say something to them to stall and become self conscious of my voice being the only sound in the room. When I glance up, almost everyone looks disinterested in what I’m doing, which helps with the self-consciousness. I begin reading, stumbling over almost every word, apologizing and trying to continue on level-headedly. Again, nobody seems to care. There is also a shelving cart right in front of me.

Coding with J:
I'm with my Uncle J in a covered parking lot area outside a Barnes and Noble bookstore.
He's praising me for finishing a new fantasy book I had just bought.
He hands me a new red book. It has instructions for learning to code using the 'X' social platform.
The pages have colored-coded code with brackets and guides. I remember that I read up to page 5.
The pages have moving images, so it isn't strictly print. It claims that all kinds of media can be coded into the platform.


Learning to code on X.

Sunday morning, 12 March 2023.

Dream #: 20,537-01.

2 minutes and 30 seconds to read.

Somatosensory Foundation:

This dream, originating from typical REM sleep dynamics, results in a narrative enforcing my somatosensory response (imagining purposeful tactility) and potential real-world hand mobility because of my current status of REM atonia, a causality factor for dreams in the fourth quarter of my sleep cycle. It is so specific the physiological pattern and timing match tens of thousands of previous dreaming experiences over nearly 60 years.

The presence of ice has a double meaning here. Ice corresponds with my intuitive perception of REM atonia nuances (while ice melting anticipates achieving wakefulness and real-world mobility), while I also sometimes imagine ice when there is too much real-world heat while sleeping.

The setting is a parking lot on Copeland Avenue in La Crosse (a city I have not lived in since 1994). It is late morning. My job is to scrape ice off the edge of an elevated curb. The ice is only on the vertex of the top edge of one side of the low-set platform. The vividness is astounding, beautiful, and peaceful. For about 20 minutes, I happily scrape all the ice off, feeling satisfied, but I wonder if any of it will form again before I receive my payment.

More Correspondence with the Usual Sleep Dynamics: A parking lot is what I imagine, define, and create to enhance a mode of liminality, a specific level of dream state awareness. As in real-world correlation, it represents temporary immobility but with a potential transition from one place to another (here, from the dream state to viable wakefulness). This fundamental dream motif has remained a regular feature since early childhood, typically as the final scene of a sleep cycle.

The concrete platform is about the size and height of a bed - with the vertex of the curb being the top edge of one side of the “concrete bed.” I sometimes shift a blanket remaining atop it, recognizing its role in my sleep navigation.

Protoconsciousness Personified as a Celebrity: After I finish my work, I watch George C. Scott, the actor, approaching a nearby building (walking from the road). The building is farther from the avenue than I am. It seems to be his office for the management of a nearby warehouse. He sees me but does not mention my payment and enters the building.

I am unconcerned about my payment or even if I receive it. I “walk with intent” to the road. However, George C. Scott comes out to give me a check when he sees I am leaving.

Proto-Cognizant Staging: I look at the check and read its details as I walk. It is for 20 dollars. There is handwriting featuring “20 Copeland Avenue,” “La Crosse,” and “G. Scott” as a signature. I plan on asking Zsuzsanna if George C. Scott owns a business here. (Zsuzsanna has never been to America, as I often remind readers.) I am intrigued but consider it may have been someone who only looked like him.

Inexplicable Transpersonal Link to Zsuzsanna:

Zsuzsanna was awake and reading about Emmet Brown’s “Great Scott” exclamations. There was no way I could have known this other than a typical transpersonal link - which is how I learned she was a real-world person (on the other side of the planet from me long before we met in waking life).

These links (NOT because of the dream state, as some people pretend - as dreams distort the link as they do everything else) regularly occur when one of us is awake and the other asleep. However, it also happens (with different dynamics) when we are both awake or asleep.

23rd November 2021

Fragment:

(recall left too long) In one bit I'm trying out some of H's clamp meters (not waking life ones) and I pick up one that has a Bosch blue colour to it; the clamp is flat on the inside, and grippy.

I try it on a few different things and get nothing. Then I realise I'm in the wrong mode and change it to read amps. Then, I try one of our kitchen forks with it. Somehow it reads 4A and I feel a tingle and buzz through my arm (which is holding the fork?); I check the voltage and it's quite high and I decide to go tell H and see what he thinks. I feel like there's some insulation missing or something on the meter, for this to be happening.

non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid FA / AP

I am with Gerard Butler and a team, reminds me the movie Rocknrolla, but also some hints of Ocean's 11. I am carrying something valuable we have to try to sell or deliver safely to some bad dudes. We arrive at some posh restaurant/bar and meet some gangsters. The deal is off and we decide to leave, but we are aware that they'll chase us and try to steal it. So we separate in smaller groups and pass the bags back and forth between us, to confuse them if they are watching, so they don't know who's got the thing now. I am the one still carrying it though. I go through a train station and Gerard is staying close behind. At some point we bump into each other and he takes it over.
We then have to meet at a safe house and it is a really cozy wood chalet of some nice Swiss lady. My friend Tânia is there, sitting in the living room reading a book or magazine. The house is very nice, very luminous, except when we go up some stairs that lead to the attic, which are a bit darker. I go up just out of curiosity and I trip in some gadget the owner has put on the stairs, supposedly to help people hold on and not fall down the stairs, but for me it has the opposite effect. She says she will consider removing it.
I go back down to the living room and accept Tânia's suggestion to read, so I grab a couple outdated magazines from a rack on the wall. Tânia says "don't read that, it is so old" but I don't understand her point. The mags are from 2009 but seem interesting nonetheless. One has some article about the communist party and she says about that "you should read this book instead" and hands me some philosophy book in french.
The others arrive and there is like a discussion about sleeping arrangements. Some complain about not having a bathroom near their bedroom and I go check and they actually have a toilet in the bathroom, but behind some curtains and they just covered it up with a wood board and are using it as a table to put their bags on. They say they are aware of it, but they don't feel there is enough privacy to use it. I get it, I try to use it and I don't feel so comfortable with just the curtains, but there will only be guys in this room, why are they being such pussies about it?
Anyway, later I am watching a documentary about a baby lion mauled by a big lion and the lioness trying to revive the baby. It is heartbreaking, but the worst is that the baby is still alive just severely injured and then the lioness gets hurt defending him and we have to watch them both slowly dying. I just can't take it. I switch to a documentary about dinosaurs but it happens the exactly same thing. A baby T-rex is mauled by a bigger dinosaur and then his bigger brother comes to the rescue and also gets hurt and they almost die but find the strength to drag themselves away, looking for safety, and it is just painful to watch.
I then meet my mom and walk her home and while we are at the bottom of the ramp that goes to her building, the two hurt dinosaurs appear at the end of the street walking slowly and I tell her the story to explain where they come from. I don't find weird that they just materialized from a tv show. What I say to mom is that they will attract bigger predators and we should get away from them for safety reasons. Right away, some other carnivore comes out from the corner neighbors' yard and tries to hunt those dinos. But then he sees us instead and finds us a more attractive prey. I tell mom to run up the ramp. We pull each other and we manage to escape. Fortunately, someone had left the door open and we just go right in and close it. The dinosaur sees us behind the glass door and leaves frustrated. Then I notice two travel bags outside on the street, unattended and I tell mom we should bring it inside because certainly someone forgot it there and might be stolen or destroyed by the dinosaurs. We quickly open the door and bring them inside. One is empty and the other has some papers and a few objects. A neighbor comes by and asks if we are traveling. We explain these were outside and we brought them inside to protect them until the owner shows up. Then a second neighbor arrives and claims its theirs and that he was preparing to take it to his car and thanks us for our concern, but I feel he is slightly upset that we picked it up and looked inside, like not sure of what our intentions were.

Morning of August 10, 2020. Monday.

Dream #: 19,593-02. Reading time: 2 min 50 sec.



While comfortably re-entering light sleep by choice, I summon my favorite scene - a light rain in an urban neighborhood. It is in the late morning. As I float into the extraordinarily vivid setting, flying slowly about four feet above the street, I choose to remain incorporeal, without summoning and integrating imaginary physicality. Even so, imaginary kinaesthesia becomes a factor of my navigation through the fictitious environment. I indulge in the astounding detail and beauty of raindrops falling into puddles.

Eventually, there is an incidental recall that Zsuzsanna and I had briefly discussed the Netflix series “The Rain” last night while scrolling through the content. (We had only seen the first episode weeks ago.) Two people (implied to be from the series) walk into the previously unpopulated setting, strolling off to my left, eventually no longer in view. I consider whether my dream will amalgamate the backstory of the series in implying the rain is dangerous.

American actor Jack Albertson (June 16, 1907-November 25, 1981) is lying on his left side on the ground (concurrent with my sleeping position). He is inside a fenced area not much longer than his height, the top of his head directed to the sidewalk. The fenced area is otherwise for either recyclables or junk from the adjacent service station. I wonder if sleeping in the rain will be problematic for him during my distracted association with “The Rain.” His eyes roll up with his visage like Elise Rainier’s from “Insidious: The Last Key” Zsuzsanna and I watched last night.

Soon, the young Elise Rainier forms from droplets of rain flowing over a tree and hovers in the air about three feet from the sidewalk (typical reinduction as the Naiad factor common since childhood) and vocalizes the melody (with only tenuto “oo” sounds) of Jim Reeve’s “The Blizzard.” (My dream self does not make the association with that song or its implications during my dream.) This factor stabilizes the original peaceful essence of the dream state.

Even so, after about fifteen minutes, cerebral nuances begin to activate wakefulness, resulting in text of various colors appearing on the street in paint and chalk. (Despite the rain, it does not wash away.) I float over an area where the word “leveling” features in white paint. I focus more on my usual seeking of text in this mode, but nothing relevant is in my view after this. I see what I first think might be a word, but it transforms into a series (about five of them) of the letter “i.” I see the character “o” in a set of three. Probably every letter of the English alphabet, in various colors, features at varying angles to each other on the street’s surface.

---

Notes on this dream’s no-brainer causality:

The essence of water (both summoned and spontaneous) begins the majority of my dreaming experiences in this mode as virtual melatonin. The Naiad factor is the pineal gland personification but also has mystical implications with the so-called third eye (as well as the Eye of Providence).

Note the incidental play on “Elise Rainier” as “release rain” (“produce more melatonin to sustain my dream”).

“Leveling” is concurrent with the transition from the imaginary kinaesthesia of floating into legitimate physicality without myoclonus. (There is probably an association of the balance between serotonin and melatonin).

Jack Albertson’s role as this dream’s sleep simulacrum ties with several threads of dream state causality. Firstly, he remains in bed in the first scenes of “Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.”

Secondly, that association was recalled from me posting an image of Willie Talk (a ventriloquist dummy) on Twitter yesterday, a doll being the signification of the absence of mental and physical viability while sleeping.

Thirdly, his visage is as Elise Rainier’s in a trance (yet another play on sleeping and dreaming).

Fourthly, the fenced area signifies both the virtual division between dream space and the threshold of wakefulness and, in this case, is also indicative of how the physical body is restricted in its movement while sleeping.

---

Everything in this dream stems from the same causation factors as the tens of thousands of other dreaming experiences I have studied and resolved daily for over 50 years. Even so, the uniqueness each time is surprisingly admirable.

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Mom and Makayla are going to get matching tattoos, and I am going with them. Outside, it is very overcast. There seems to be some dark purple in some of the clouds as well. This place doesn’t look like a tattoo shop; this entrance is on a patio covered by an overhang of a pitched roof. It seems more office or commercial. Inside now, the tattoo they are getting is just a jagged line. I see it on a piece of trace taped to another piece of paper and take out my pocket knife and begin to cut along the line. The trace keeps coming further than the other paper, but I’m really following the line pretty closely. Mom goes first now and grabs my hand as the female artist begins inking. It’s going on her ankle, and me and Makayla say how that is a painful spot (although I think I’m really thinking of the one behind my knee). I’m sitting right by mom, barefoot, with my legs stretched out. It’s like I am feeling the feeling of getting the tattoo too, I guess because I’m so close. I make a face and look at Makayla, a little excited at having this experience after a long time without it. When I look over, Mom is passed out, head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, and I shake her to wake her up. This happens one more time. We ask the artist to call a doctor, but she says she’s not sure if they’re taking anyone due to social distancing. She does fill a glove with water and give it to us. I pour some of it into Mom’s mouth but it just comically and exaggeratedly spurts back up and out. I know that Melissa and her mom are also getting matching tattoos: a lobster with heart shaped scales.




I am in what seems to be an empty high school, on the second level. Julia from work is having me do something; it seems urgent, and I am taking it seriously. Then, she tells me it’s just been a prank, which I agree is pretty funny. I think it has something to do with a book. I end up taking the book home and reading it. It is a YA with a dark green cover and is definitely not something I’d read in real life. I think it’s about a baby or pregnancy. I’m reading it to humorously spite the prank, but it is actually kind of good. For some reason I started a little ways into the book, so now I’m going back to start from the beginning. I am outside on the lawn in the front of Mom’s, and it seems like a really nice summer evening.

Morning of April 18, 2020. Saturday.

Dream #: 19,479-03. Reading time (optimized): 2 min 15 sec.



My imagined dream self becomes instinctually aware of my dream beginning, including a viable thread of waking-life identity. As a result, the first rendering is a female form close to my left, modeling the sleeping orientation of Zsuzsanna and me, though she remains standing while I remain seated in a cross-legged position. She is a short distance closer to the wayside of an unknown road than I am. It seems to be nighttime. On the other side of the road, off to the right, is an unfamiliar business building. Feelings of cheerfulness and peace remain throughout my dream. (The eventual sleep-wake personification, firstly as an association with imaginary proprioception, is not intrusive other than wanting me to move from the side of the road to return to slow-wave sleep).

Instinctual dynamics of dream state management begin. On my lap is an open sheet music book, though the sheet music displayed is unknown. Upon that is a tablet with another one atop it. The first features equidistant thumbnails from a web site, mostly of random people, and the second displays a blank screen. Atop the tablets is an open A4 spiral notebook with my handwriting describing dream content as well as equations.

The inference is that I am solving equations using the sheet music book (mainly the arrangement of notes) and the web page thumbnails, which supposedly link to the content of previous dreams and six-digit numbers that serve as markers. The first calculation produces an image of the ocean on the previously blank screen, though it is a small strip, oriented lengthways near the top of the screen.

The second calculation results in an additional lengthways photograph of the ocean, and I am fascinated when it matches perfectly with the first when adjacent to the right side of the previous image. Although the image never moves, there is still the fundamental liminal impression that it defines my status of being asleep and the absence of physical demarcation. I start to consider what will happen when the strips fill the entire top of the screen. They will probably continue to a new row. This identification and anticipation results in the summoning of imaginary proprioception and latent physical preparedness (which usually begins around this part of a dream’s timeline, though here, there is no anticipation of vestibular system ambiguity from the lack of discernment of physicality while sleeping).

The sleep-wake personification initiates from my right. An unknown man drives a Ford Model T Convertible into the area on the other side of the road. (Cars, as with all vehicles, typically correlate with the imaginary physicality of the dream state or preparation for wakefulness with emerging physical awareness and mobility potential.) He cheerfully calls out, implying I am blocking his way even though I am not on the road. (This scenario is also co-occurrent with how I am sleeping close to Zsuzsanna, as the other man is a preconscious personification of my potential consciousness and emerging physical awareness. This same causal factor has occurred in many previous dreams.)

I move back a short distance, but the man parks his car near the business building and walks over to my side of the road. He looks at the items in my lap and seems curious about what I am doing.

I absentmindedly state, “I’m doing sequences of fractals.”

“I can’t even do one,” he says happily, emphasizing “one.”

---

Morning of December 3, 2019. Tuesday.

Dream #: 19,342-02. Reading time: 1 min 40 sec.



My dream begins with the instinctual anticipation of wall mediation, the usual maneuvering between dream space and waking space. There is no imaginary proprioception as cognitive arousal dominates my transition in this case. I sit on a bed in an unknown location without my waking-life identity. I read details in a newspaper for two television shows. I am to participate in the filming of a new series that involves a casual conversation with a celebrity. The “gatekeeper” (personified preconscious) between dream space and waking space is an unfamiliar Australian actor.

I stand up when I see the word “EXCITE” flashing in midair (an instinctual association with cortical arousal). Even though I am in an indoor setting, the whole wall is open directly to the street, and an oncoming jeep is carrying the actor to my location. The preconscious simulacrum is a passive rendering. He sits on the bed as we talk about the conditions of his environment. “What is it like to live in such a hot, dry climate,” I ask him - as if I live in a different region. He talks about himself and his status. At this point, I notice a big cardboard box near the bed (compartmentalization of the process) that contains outdoor features such as grass, rocks, and small shrubs. There is also a seemingly tame Australian possum running around in the box. This feature is meant to induce recall of my waking life, as Zsuzsanna had a pet possum while we were writing to each other, but the heat (in real life) makes cortical arousal sluggish. Instead, I ask the man if all possums are as tame as this one. He answers in the negative. He seems slightly impatient.

The processing changes back to cognitive. The simulacrum subsides for a time. I read about the actor in his fictitious television series from years previously, though the preconscious process heightens to the imaginary inference of intrusion. I read the name of the show as “Bryant’s Bandits” (typical redundant dream state phonetics like “Tony Karoni” from years ago).

I instinctually try to reinduce my dream with water reinduction as virtual melatonin mediation. I teleport to a big lake. The actor is seemingly filming a new episode of “Bryant’s Bandits,” which is about men on a submarine with him as the captain, though they are not criminals but military. He stands atop the submarine while his men stand on the shore. The sleep-wake mediation becomes preconsciously authoritative, so I let myself wake into another hot day.

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Morning of July 17, 2019. Wednesday.

Dream #: 19,203-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



My dream begins with the usual water induction but which transitions into a non-lucid experience of my dream self being incorporeal and hovering above a big public pool that uses advanced technology to simulate ocean life, though only by causing splashes and movement of the water. There is no one around, even though the machinery is active.

Eventually, I am corporeal and seated in a library while subliminally trying to increase my awareness by reading or attempting to read (a habit of instinctual dreaming since childhood). It is more like a classroom, as there are what seem to be school desks in the big room.

Without getting up, I pick up a book on computer technology from an unknown male’s desk that faces mine, but upon riffling through the pages, I see that it is outdated by many years. I am unsure why he had it on his desk, but I put it back without saying anything.

I turn around to see shelves on one wall to my right that feature many packages of unassembled cardboard spaceship pieces that are in transparent plastic wrapping, most related to the “Star Trek” franchise. This rendering stems from subliminal thoughts of vestibular system correlation, the most common dreaming process. As a result of the change in focus, I realize that I have been absent from my home for hours and should probably return.

I walk, seemingly for a long time, though the setting and location are fictitious, yet my immediate new false memories dictate my imaginary journey. I walk through a long hall where there are no other people at first. (I more often fly around at this stage of a dream.) Eventually, I maintain a strange deliberate slow-motion jog that seems perfect and propels me higher from the floor than would be possible in reality. However, an unknown boy (preconscious simulacrum that is usually rendered to be the personified waking process) starts to make fun of my activity. I curse at him relentlessly, and he leaves through what appear to be the French doors of a business.

I am in an unknown neighborhood with many dense bushes and low-hanging branches adjacent to the sidewalk. With instinctual dream control, I indulge in water reinduction (virtual melatonin mediation) to vivify and sustain my dream.

I phase through any overgrown plants when needed as I effortlessly make my progress down the sidewalk. I enjoy the refreshing cooling raindrops on my skin as some of the water additionally streams from the branches above.

I consider where my house is, but the area is fictitious. Despite this, a subliminal dream state awareness creates a false recall that my house is across the street from a store that sells mattresses and bedding. I see the word “sleep” on a big sign.

I approach the corner apartment building where my family supposedly lives. Through the window, I see our youngest daughter get up from a chair and go to another part of the room. I am glad to be back home.

---

Morning of June 18, 2019. Tuesday.

Dream #: 19,174-02. Reading time: 36 sec.



While in subliminal to emerging liminal mode, I engage in the imaginary pursuit of attempting to discern technology, including text, as a factor of cognitive arousal. I look at my computer in an undefined location. I have the idea to search for the most common words and imagery on the Internet.

Following a complete search with an unknown program, I see the most common image is one of two types of yellow pennant flags. One appears as a regular triangular form pointing down, and the other has a comma-like curve to the left. They are about the size of avatars, in random order.

---

My dream includes three emergent factors. Yellow stands out when returning to consciousness. Flags represent confirmation of territory (in this case, upper liminal space). My use of technology comes about when I try to heighten my awareness while in the dream state (the same as trying to read).

---

About eight/eleven month ago - Low Lucid level -

Laying on a carpark floor, the ground was slighlty moist but not cold, wearing a thin cream coloured, yellowing night gown which was also damp and sticking to my skin. I wasn't cold. I roll my head over to my left and see a building made of light bricks with a white door. The door had a knob handle (also white) and a small slot window on the top half a bit to high for eye level. Next to the door was a off White sign with light grey lettering.

NO
PARKING

I chuckled reading it, aware that the first thing I ever read (to my knowledge) in a dream was something like that. Nodded off into another non-lucid dream.

Attached Thumbnails

 

Morning of December 31, 2018. Monday.

Dream #: 19,005-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min.



There are threads of my conscious self identity present in my otherwise subliminal state, but only those which include a partial recall of my usage of the Internet for my online dream journal. [dream-related theme in a dream]

The location is undefined and unknown (to my conscious self), though implied to be where I am currently living. The website that includes my dream journal is unlike any in waking life. There are three main panels, two vertical ones at the top and a horizontal one across the bottom. Its color scheme is mostly cyan and blue.

I discover at least three comments on my dream journal entries of which are about a year old. Dream journal entries appear in the right panel and comments are in the left. The bottom panel is for website navigation. Each comment is about three short paragraphs in length and from an unknown person. Each comment is asinine and stemming from the usual misconceptions about dreams that plague people and this society as a whole. [reading to increase dream state awareness]

One comment relates to natural melatonin mediation (as water induction and reinduction), which is also a factor of ultradian rhythm dynamics. However, the gist of the comment is asinine and ill-conceived. The other comments are relevant to so-called lucid dreaming but are erroneous in their assumptions. I will probably not reply to the comments. I am considering deletion without reading it all as all three commentators sound oblivious to the content of my journal. (The monothematic delusion and motivated reasoning of people who pretend to understand the “meaning” of dreams have been of zero interest to me since childhood because of my lifelong knowledge of the legitimate causes of induction, dreaming, and waking processes.)

In my focus on the fictitious website, my dream changes into the recurring “paper technology” mode. The site now consists of sheets of A4 paper. I turn them as loose pages, being slightly puzzled as to what order they will preserve.

---

The recurring distortion of “paper technology” has begun to interest me more over the years even though it is solely a factor of the dream state (as much dream content is). There are probable explanations for this anomaly, though there is also a certain level of ambiguity depending on my dream self mode and how much of my conscious self identity is extant.

Electricity and technology are autosymbolism for the mind in the subception of REM sleep, analogous to neuronal energy and thinking processes (which are otherwise absent in the subliminal dream self mode). I developed reading in dreams in childhood to deliberately maintain focus on the dream state (which I learned from my mother and her acknowledgment of how text in dreams often changes or transforms into random letters).

As with other induction, dreaming, and waking processes, it is not always preconsciously or interconsciously personified (other than in the last dream of a sleep cycle). “Paper technology” is probably only a factor of absence of wakefulness as with many dream state factors.

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Morning of December 17, 2018. Monday.

Dream #: 18,991-04. Reading time: 1 min 22 sec. Readability score: 72.



I am at a distorted variation of the Loomis Street house in late morning, in the living room. There is an unknown dark-haired female present of whom is likely meant to represent Zsuzsanna, as my conscious self identity is not extant. Mostly, I look at a newspaper. There are details about the Green Bay Packers, including random letters that supposedly relate to the status of their wins and losses. (I do not follow sports in real life.)

I get into a conversation about the Green Bay Packers regarding their status. I inform the unknown girl when she asks about the football team that they are presently an “A.” After a short time, I am uncertain of this even though I had read about it. I look again at the newspaper. The headlines display “M, O, N, U.” I then tell the girl that they are a “U.”

---

Reading is one of my most common activities in dreams, though sometimes unstable, such as letters or words changing, though this dream was stable. Since childhood, I have used it as a way to hone thinking skills and awareness while dreaming. However, the results have been surprising. Reading and discerning, as in this dream, seems to take priority over conscious self recall. That is, I can see the writing and read it, though I have no waking life memory of my current conscious self. I know of the Green Bay Packers, but do not recall I live in Australia or that I had not been to the Loomis Street house in over 20 years. That is how incredibly skewed and faulty dreams are.

Still, there is something to learn here. The avatar seems to be the interconsciousness rather than the preconscious (as the simulacrum was not domineering as the preconscious typically is). I say that the team is “U.” So, I may be calling the transpersonal avatar “you.” The form would exist between man and mind. M, O, N, (mon or man), U, and the missing part is “mental,” as dreaming is within the mind. Monumental.

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Morning of September 12, 2018. Wednesday.

Dream #: 18,895-02. Optimized 1 min 15 sec read.



I am in the Loomis Street house on the second floor and mentally form a spaceship out of the front area. Several unfamiliar men are with me.

I operate my jerry-built flying saucer, still made of wood from the house. It rises in the air and enters outer space. One unknown male (protoconsciousness emergence caused by my vestibular phasing response to the dream state) is wary.

I go to Mars and enjoy seeing its landscapes. My illusory sensations of movement (imaginary kinesthesia caused by the vestibular phasing dynamics of REM atonia) are vivid.

“I’m going to the third galaxy,” I tell the others (an association with Earth being the third planet from the sun).

With the silly pretense of metacognitive dream shaping, I cheerfully claim every solar system has at least one planet like Earth, many of which have human-like inhabitants.

I create a planet upon which to land. There are many unusual structures. The “aliens” look like people, but they say “arrow” (myoclonus association) instead of “hello.” I mentally try to prevent them from speaking English, but we hear some short phrases. Because of this, one male passenger thinks we might be on Earth.

I see spiral writing and crosshairs on a computer screen. I read “TTYL” (“Talk To You Later”). I consider I should make the text seem more “alien.” I focus, and it soon mainly contains characters like those from the Netflix “Travelers” series. (It is a science-fiction series about human time travelers).

I summon Zsuzsanna into a bedroom for an intimate experience. My somatosensory response (tactility, physical pleasure, and sense of warmth) increases exponentially. I sit on a bed, and Zsuzsanna sits on me, facing me. The protoconsciousness personification and the other passengers are watching us through a window (with no sense of intrusion). (There is a vague association with the last scene of the James Bond movie “Moonraker” from 1979.)

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