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3rd August 2021

Fragment:

I am in some kind of complex, a lab or hospital. Something about hand gel at the entrance and an old man (part of staff) is commenting on its futility. Dark and moody environment, maybe some red lighting.

(recall gap)

I'm in a car with my cousin T and our aunt B, plus someone else I can't recall anymore. My aunt is driving and I'm sitting in the middle at the back, with T sat to my right. I'm kind of slumping and when I try to do something about it, it feels like not much changes. Our arms are touching in some way that feels kind of sensual, I feel that she is feeling as I am feeling, that it's a good sensation but that we shouldn't be doing it. On some level I'm concerned someone in the front of the car will notice, but on another level I also feel myself not caring.

In the dream I think about how I haven't felt this specific pleasure of touch in so long, (as if it had been years).

Morning of October 7, 2008. Tuesday.



I am standing near a river in late morning. A mist begins to grow and rise from the river. Later, it seems more like early evening.

Eventually, the mist is elsewhere with an undetermined orange light within it, implied to be like a miniature sun. Zsuzsanna is present at one point and some of the light within the mist shines through and augments her beauty. (I am unsure if the setting is implied to be indoors or outdoors, a common ambiguous factor of the dream state.)

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My dream begins with the common water induction (water being autosymbolism for entering the dream state, occurring as such at least once in every normal sleeping period for over fifty years). The mist symbolizes the essence of the dream state itself, which obscures the orb of light (conscious self identity). This is very similar to many previous dreams of which utilize the same autosymbolism, typical RAS mediation of which is similar to many dreams I have had about something being wrong with the sun, which is biological autosymbolism for my conscious self identity being incomplete while in the dream state.

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(The first two episodes of the fourth season of “Supernatural” aired the night before, included here for personal date-tracking purposes only.)

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Morning of May 28, 2017. Sunday.




Curiously, the setting seems to be in one of the portables (classrooms set up in large trailers) at my high school (though I also attended one in fourth grade). However, there are no associations with school.

An unknown (at first) girl is present. She has reptilian skin, though it is of a colorful floral pattern (of the type on curtains and bedsheets and such, thus this may be a dream sign, that is, an association with Zsuzsanna being in bed next to me).

I become aware that she has some sort of inherent biological function in her body where skin automatically grows over certain parts (in a similar manner as a lizard tail growing back after being cut off). There is one part where I watch the process. The tip of her tail had been apparently injured (and even partly cut off) by someone slamming the door before she was through the doorway. The new tail section has a slightly different floral design and colors. At another point though, there is a rectangular band-aid shape protruding from her forearm (somewhat like oversized loose skin). It is more like unneeded skin growing out due to a biological glitch. She shows mild concern.

Later, she becomes a young version of Zsuzsanna. I stand facing her and she now seems mostly human though has a vivid dominating presence (typical of the personified preconscious during the waking stage). We hug and I kiss her neck. This eventually brings about the coalescence waking symbolism that has been quite common in my dreams since early childhood (where a main dream character unites or “melts” back into me with a very pleasant feeling).

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Oddly enough, based on the setting, there seems to be some sort of insignificant recall of an event from fourth grade where I had my fingers slammed in the door of the portable (though they were not injured). For some reason, this seemed transmuted into the lizard girl having her tail clipped. I even recognized her state as “mine” for a very short time.

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Morning of July 14, 2015. Tuesday.



Instead of my first dream of the night being sensual and lucid as usual (probably due to the so-called Tetris effect regarding actual lovemaking), they have remained so for a couple days throughout and as such, have not much of a plot otherwise. Still, one has enough additional detail to perhaps post online as it involves one of those common (to me) imagery-based events that seem very familiar, even nostalgic, yet completely fictional.

Yet again, I am back in my (implied) teenage years in Cubitis. The bed is aligned east to west along the northeast corner against the outer carport door (that door being perpendicular to the main entrance into the living room), which is where it was during the height of unexplainable clearer dreams associated with my wife-to-be before we met.

There is another presence in the room other than Zsuzsanna and I on the west side, supposedly also with a bed in the room; an unknown female, though who leaves in a short time without saying or doing anything other than a straight walk out the door from my room (without acknowledging us), though it does not seem that much of a privacy issue even though it seems possible she may return (though she does not). After an extensive level of intimacy with augmented touch with Zsuzsanna, and even though it is semi-dark, I find myself looking at some sort of “impossible” Warren-like comic magazine/“computer” composite in the same location on my bed (it is not much like an ipad - but more like a normal magazine though with computerized pages), though which transforms into solely a comic magazine after a short time, though mostly in color. Firstly, there is a black-and-white splash page that shows a scene similar to art from near the end of the “Heavy Metal” movie (from 1981) with a female riding a winged creature. There is some sort of ambiguity that implies more imagery can somehow be inserted into the page into any white space with some sort of software routine. Although I contemplate this idea, I do not use it or see any options to do what is implied (or any context menu showing additional art to be inserted wherever - the ground below the winged creature is mostly white and featureless, implying that perhaps figures or buildings can be inserted as well as perhaps something else in the sky).

It soon gets more and more “familiar” (as if I had read through the fictional magazine numerous times in the past) as I turn the pages. There is a page that is somewhat like “Wizards” movie scenes (from 1977) in a typical Bodē-like three-by-three vertically narrow nine panel layout. Eventually, I am looking at what seems to be a very unlikely but “familiar” Vaughn Bodē Erotica comic, yet featuring Disney’s Magica De Spell. She appears to be standing (on the right side of each panel) and engaged in conversation with another female “duck” over most of the nine panels. The art becomes so vivid and detailed (and focused with full clarity upon), I partially forget I am dreaming and start to reflect on the intense “familiarity” of this book. It seems, though, that each page is only a “demo” (or sample) of various other magazines and I do not quite recall if I have all or some of the full copies elsewhere. (Magica De Spell was actually one of the first cartoon characters that appeared in dreams from age four, though only in two-dimensional still images and not really that often). This of course distracts me from my lucidity, though I do eventually shift into other sensual scenes without any comic imagery. I even enter a lucid “false awakening” (which is fairly rare) as if I am more lucid in coming out of another lucid dream. (Typically, concerning non-lucid dreams, my false awakenings are almost always far less vivid than the previous dream, though real movies that use this trick imply the opposite. The fact they are less vivid at least with me, is probably one reason why they “work” as a false awakening in the first place - with less reasoning skills available than the previous main dream.)

Morning of April 5, 2015. Sunday.



I already knew this many years ago, but once again a “popular” dream myth is exposed as just that - a myth - this being the one where you supposedly only dream about vivid sexual encounters if they are not presently occurring in reality. (Besides, common sense would dictate that the Tetris effect would render that idea as ludicrous.) Not only that, the level of conscious dream creation and control is almost a hundred percent save for one unusual distortion.

In my (first) dream, I am, for some reason, focused on a room on Loomis Street, the one with the second refrigerator and which was used both mainly for storage boxes and my last sleeping place before moving to Australia (as well as where I read all the letters from my wife before we met). Though I was last there in early 1994, I recall how my older sister still had at least a couple quarter-filled bottles of shampoo from as far back as the 1950s as well as a stack of old “Dig” magazines from the 1950s. My sister called it the “junk room”. In my dream, this room is far more cluttered than it ever was in reality - so much so, it is impossible to walk through it on the floor. It begins to dawn on me that I am dreaming. Oddly, instead of stabilizing and enhancing my dream and taking control as I often have in the past (even as a toddler), I decide to wake up and look around (without moving in reality), which I do.

During this short wakeful period, I start to make my next dream, which will start in the same location but then change to our present address on W street. After a short time, I am back in the “same” dream, more lucid and with more vividness than ever. This time it is raining indoors. The rain is extraordinarily refreshing and I revel in the sensations for a time as I climb up onto a stack of cardboard boxes on my way through the room. Eventually, I leave this room through a fictional door, either teleporting or simply going into the front room of this house by way of a typical dream composite.

From here, I “summon” my wife, who appears automatically at about the age she was when we first started writing or a few years younger. We indulge in passionate kissing and embracing, the sense of touch “accelerated” (in the manner that all senses are in dreams at times, including internally glowing enriched imagery, augmented “impossibly loud” audio, blissful “smells as simultaneous breathing”, and other perceptions not possible in waking life). The only distortion is, when I am holding her from behind, a “hollow pocket” appears within my dream’s rendering; sometimes in her upper back, sometimes in the air - though this does not distract me from reaching my peak. This seems to represent the tiny degree of control that is lacking in my dream creation and continuity. However, I keep “sealing” it (in an automatic mental sense), whereby it fills itself in somewhat like fluid, like a three-dimensional holographic dynamic recess (spherically inverted) sealing itself up from some sort of minor “glitch” of consciousness - like a “blind spot”, perhaps, but more in line with my view and not always on the periphery. I see this as an environmental “flaw”, not related to the form of my wife - more like a superimposed partial “mini-portal” that I do not place my hand near at any point. Still, it may also be a vague association with “hollow of the back” or even the phrase “holler back” (as a typical in-dream orphaned pun).

Even though we had indulged in making love in reality just a few hours prior, my dream seems to increase my desire and awareness and even seems to “reignite” and increase my physical stamina (almost to a point of disbelief considering I was already just fulfilled), something I cannot help but puzzle over other than my dream self consciousness (in some incarnations) being more viable than the conscious in some ways (certainly not in logic, critical thinking, or even common sense, but more relative to bodily control, physical capability, and cellular function).

Affirmation forms, including “Thank you for telling me when I am dreaming”, “Thank you for making me aware of when I am in a dream”, and hundreds of similar phrases, seem to have almost fully integrated into my normal thinking processes, although I still like to experience non-altered or “unscripted” dreams.