Recent DJ Posts

Morning of May 20, 2014. Tuesday.



I am traveling with a few people in a station wagon that looks like the same one my brother-in-law Bob had at one time. My wife is with me. The driver is unknown but friendly and competent at driving. Somehow, it seems we are in a composite area that has a location sense of my backyard in Cubitis. We stop near the front of the large shed (the one my father built) and it seems to represent a charity store. It is closed, however. There are several cardboard boxes and bags of clothes to the right of the doorway, the bags leaning up against the outer wall. It looks like rain, so we put them in more suitable plastic bags as well as adding some more unneeded clothes from the car.

Apparently this is not a public street and a police frog is on its way to our location. The police frog has trouble getting over some clusters of grass so we decide to take the opportunity to leave before he gets to our location even though we not only had not done anything wrong or illegal - we were giving more donations of clothes. The police frog is hindered by a somewhat shallow pond near where the car is parked. He starts moving through the water and drowns. I had thought frogs would be better swimmers.

In another scenario, I have two identical wives (perhaps a few years apart in age, but the same otherwise). For some reason, this really does not seem all that unusual - one may be the one before I met her and the other being the one after I met her. I make love to both of them at different times. There is a lot of realistic physical contact. We seem to be living in La Crosse. My brother Jim is still alive, much younger, and seemingly staying with us for a short time before he goes to another town. I think he is going into the army or marines (he was a marine in real life) as he has a duffel bag near the arm chair in the living room, seemingly in preparation to go.

The two versions of my wife do not seem to ever interact. One starts to talk about her new pregnancy (which is quite a surprise to me) and I start to worry again (as in real life) if her petite size can handle the pregnancy (considering we have five children, though, I would say yes). Still, she would be at far more of a disadvantage than other females and I worry about her health and water retention concerns as she says her hands and feet are quite swelled. I decide that for now, perhaps I should reverse time and undo the present scenario and work out what we will do. This is also because this version of my wife should probably be more free to do more of what she wants on her own.

I find the “two wives” (my wife having had dreams of two of me) or more, and other “two of something” dreams to be rather intriguing. I have also dreamt of having two of the “same” fathers and two of the “same” mothers (and even two or more of the “same” pet cats or guinea pigs).

I spend a bit of time thinking about reversing time. My brother Jim seems late for his journey but does not seem that concerned. I pretend to have some sort of machine (about the size of an old typewriter) that reverses time and I push “invisible” buttons and move some sort of “invisible” panel. I am aware of how foolish this act seems even in my growing lucidity. Jim seems to think it amusing and does not believe that time can be reversed.

However, after a short time, it is a year prior to the in-dream present date as I verify this with a calendar. Somehow, Jim still has to go, but now has time to get to his destination and he seems happy about this. I go out to the front yard with one version of my wife and we embrace for a time. For some reason, I am reminded of “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” where my wife has the “same expression” as the girl from the film. I hear a sort of screeching sound and the mood changes completely. I try to work out where it is coming from and realize that it is my own throat. I try to deliberately make the sound and it is similar, but not as loud. I rise swiftly into the air and fly around in standing position (recurring) and make the screeching sound a few more times as there is a bizarre composite emotion of peace, terror, “finality”, and exhilaration at the same time. I fly over an open field where I see a forest in the distance. This is nothing at all like the real-life location and has no urban features at all. I had just been in a smaller house in the middle of the open field. I deliberately (being mostly lucid) make the sound a few more times with my throat and get used to the exact physical sensations as to how it is done and the different subtle facets of movement and vibration. However, I then realize that I had probably been screeching in real life and so better wake up to say that I am actually doing fine. It turns out that I had not made any screeching sounds, and I have no idea of how I made my throat make the sound that it did, at least at that volume.