Morning of October 22, 2018. Monday. Dream #: 18,935-02. Optimized 1 min 45 sec read. As the basis of a false backstory residually originating from the Naiad factor (initial dream state induction), Zsuzsanna owns a sector of the La Crosse River that flows through Veterans Memorial Park and Campground in West Salem, Wisconsin. Together, we sit on the ground at the location. The setting slowly becomes darker, with indoor-outdoor ambiguity. Eventually, the water has lowered, and the river is gone. I peer earthward at a long narrow strip of soil where the river had been flowing. Dense tape grass covers it, but I think the river is underneath. The riverbed's banks slope into the narrow length of tape grass. Zsuzsanna and I puzzle over where the water went. I assume I need to pull up the tape grass to allow the water to rise and flow again. Zsuzsanna remains on my left (corresponding with our sleeping orientation). I notice that a section of ground becomes larger as I gaze at it. With metacognition, I envision and create tiny crocodiles. First, there is one, then several more in a row that continues to the right, facing left (as my body is in sleep). They are not hatchlings but miniature adults about three inches long. I am amused. "Look at all the crocodiles," I cheerfully say to Zsuzsanna as we study them. Although they are currently tiny immobile crocodiles, there is a lack of discernibility in the semidarkness. A flashlight materializes in my right hand. I shine it toward the crocodiles. They are not crocodiles now but curled dry maple leaves. A maple leaf symbolizes peace, defining the temporary status of my protoconsciousness in navigating dream space, not necessarily with waking-life relevance, though dream content often colors one's mood for the day. To clarify, I had summoned crocodiles (as a wakefulness stimulus), yet they are miniature and tranquil, exemplifying a peaceful waking transition (from REM atonia) while morphing into maple leaves. Metacognitive indicators: Dream state pun: riverbed. Indoor-outdoor ambiguity frequently occurs as a result of metacognition. Knowing I am indoors while sleeping often integrates into imaginary outdoor settings, creating consciously unresolvable amalgams (simultaneously perceiving two or more places that coexist). This factor is evidence against the asinine "simulated reality" hypothesis. Sunlight that goes into the eyes triggers the effects of serotonin. Summoning a flashlight is solely dream space navigation and my somatosensory phasing response for this transition, unrelated to real life. Water lowering is a common dream outcome, usually only in the final dream of a sleep cycle. It signifies leaving the dream state and has zero to do with real life. Water is the essence of sleep. Its dynamics correlate directly with my level of metacognitive navigation.
Updated 06-14-2021 at 07:48 AM by 1390
Morning of October 20, 2018. Saturday. Dream #: 18,933-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 58. In the first part of my dream, I am in the backyard of the Cubitis home with Zsuzsanna. We are sorting a big pile of laundry in the area near the southeast windows. Over time, I realize we are in a different world, without considering how preposterous that is (subliminal awareness of the dream state). Eventually, we walk a short distance east, now being in the Stadcor Street house’s kitchen. An unfamiliar dark-haired man of about thirty years old, implied to be a denizen of this “other world,” looks on as I try to copy a structure for serving a useful purpose for the length of our stay. From what I know so far, the denizens make large metal frames, though I am not yet sure of why. Mine turns out to be a wooden bed frame, though my dream self does not viably make the association (with either beds or sleep). I had mentally created it without lucidity. I study it for a considerable time, puzzling over how the wood is not perfectly straight from different viewpoints, yet I do not feel concern or a sense of incompetence. “I am good at building houses,” I say with confidence, as I place the wooden bed frame in about the center of the Stadcor Street “kitchen” (still perceived as being outside in a rural area). My dream self does not consider that this wooden bed frame could not serve as a foundation for a house. “You’re not making it out of metal?” asks the RAS simulacrum (the unfamiliar dark-haired man of about thirty years old), seeming somewhat puzzled, his expression and words causing me to consider if I need to make a metal one as a legal or social requirement. I slowly wake while thinking about what I need to add to our “house.” solution a common factor of communication with the RAS simulacrum is its effort to get me to realize I am dreaming - but it only intrusively dominates when there is not a viable threshold (enigmatic space) thread the bed frame that my dream self is going to use as a “house foundation” in my dream is wooden though our real bed frame is indeed metal dream factors two locations incorrectly and uniquely combined west area of Cubitis backyard > Stadcor Street kitchen (east) directional orientation correct indoor-outdoor ambiguity (simultaneously being indoors and outdoors) Stadcor Street kitchen is also outside in “another world” in a rural area Cubitis backyard is also an indoor area in the first scene subliminal appreciation of the dream state as being “another world” incorrect placement of Zsuzsanna in an American setting dream state indicator as laundry (as I do not wear clothes when I sleep), representing the subliminal recall of having discarded clothes before going to bed dream state indicator of literally “making the bed” (subliminal awareness of being asleep) RAS simulacrum does not typically dominate the waking process when I am in first-level dream state indicator space even if I am not lucid
Morning of October 3, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,916-01. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 71. My dream self is non-lucidly in my den in the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane, where we have not lived for years (since our two oldest were young children). There is clutter of which I am sorting. I pick up several winter sweaters from atop other items on the floor and hang them on a hook on the door. A few are like ones I have had in real life, including a gray one. I also pick up pieces of technology, such as a sound card. The west wall has a narrow gap under it. I notice that a big dragonfly is headfirst about halfway under it. It seems to be dead. I decide to show it to my youngest son. (My dream self has no recall that he never lived at this address.) When I turn around, the bedroom where Zsuzsanna and our youngest son is is the same room I had just been in, though my dream self does not notice this error. The head of the bed is against the west wall. Zsuzsanna is sitting up in bed. Our youngest son is standing on the opposite side of the room. I feel intense vibrations in my fingers as the dragonfly is alive and moving its wings. I go to the back door, incorrectly rendered as facing east into the yard rather than south onto the porch, and let it go. It still has trouble flying, so stays near the door. Looking out the window of the back door after closing the door, I see an American robin (juvenile based on its coloring) hopping out to the center of the backyard. It seems that the bird probably ate the dragonfly, though I did not see this occur. I awake around this time. Use of a door or doorway serves as one of two potentials, either triggering the waking process (as here) or triggering lucidity and vivification. A door is a transition from one mode of consciousness to another, in real time. Birds have been a common point of focus in the last moments of my dreams since early childhood. It is an emerging consciousness factor as an association with the dream self’s fictitious body (not viably understanding where one’s real physical body is, associating the essence of sleeping and dreaming with flight). The dragonfly was a potential for lucidity but did not serve as such. This type of focus, which has occurred in many dreams, is from subliminal awareness of my hands when my dream self’s attention focuses on picking up or moving something. No preconscious avatar is present. That is most often because of the presence of a dream state indicator, in this case, the bedroom and bed, a feature of at least one dream per sleep cycle since earliest memory and which serves as a precursory liminal awareness of being asleep, thus the preconscious is often not needed in RAS mediation of this type. (That depends on my dream self’s mode and progress of transition from the dream state.)
Morning of February 22, 2016. Monday. Reading time: 5 min 42 sec. Readability score: 66. My family and I are leaving our home on Stadcor Street due to an understanding that Daniel (Zsuzsanna’s younger half-brother on her mother’s side) is ill and could make us sick. (This is illogical because he is not around or likely to visit.) I carry a big suitcase as we all leave our house. We walk toward the city of Brisbane, but I have the idea we will be walking to America to avoid getting the illness. Eventually, we are sitting at a bus stop in an unfamiliar area with other people after I get tired of walking. (There are at least two bus shelters oriented end to end.) I am uncertain when the bus will arrive or if it will take us to our destination (closer to America, reachable by a short bridge from Australia as they are next to each other in my dream). I begin to realize that I have a car we can use that should be appearing soon. I think it is the fancy white car across the street. As I go to it, I look at the back to notice my first name written clearly above the license plate. That may be evidence it is my car though I consider it may belong to someone else. The door on the front left side is open, and we all get in, though I am the only one that sits in front. I assume the car has three rows of seats, as otherwise, all of us would not be able to fit. There is a periscope as well as an automatic pilot. I quickly drive off while vaguely thinking that it still might be someone else’s car but this is not a concern. I safely and effortlessly drive through buildings, solid walls, and over water. I stop at a rocky cliff overlooking the ocean. I look over the cliff to see a few men wandering about on the rocks about ten feet below. Now there is an unknown homeless male with us, and I offer him food. (He has not eaten for a few days and has been wandering in the region.) I pick up a suitcase to use infra-control as a potential to create food in it, but upon opening it, there are only my family’s folded clothes inside, I then open a rucksack and reach in expectantly and see I am holding a baguette. He is cheerfully thankful, as it is his favorite food. I reach in and produce a second one, which I also give him. I think about how the southeast section of America nearly touches the northwest section of Australia. It is like I see the Strait of Juan De Fuca (northwest above Washington state in reality) in the northwest corner of Australia, and that links to Charleston, North Carolina. Part of it could be confusing the Victoria above Washington state with the Victoria in Australia. It is not only an error of country location. I think we are still in Brisbane (the opposite side of Australia than my dream’s implication). (However, if you rotate Australia around to line up with the USA, the two Victorias are in the same area, though one is a city and one is a state.) We are now at a Brisbane train station. It seems to be nighttime. There is a Russian wolfhound (Borzoi) lying on one of the benches. It possesses the soul of an unknown man’s ex-girlfriend. He hired a cult leader (present near a waiting train) to transform her with magic. I talk to the dog. She acts as if I am ridiculous in talking to her and makes a sarcastic remark about people who talk to dogs. There is an ambiguous awareness that I am in a bus station and the dog is a greyhound (as a Greyhound is a kind of bus). The increasing ambiguity, along with the dog’s sarcastic attitude, annoys me. I decide to help her even though she seems resigned to her fate. I tell the young male cult leader that I will change the dog back, but he believes he is the only one with magical powers. I say, “…and now a golden candle, taller than me, appears here,” and it happens. A golden candle taller than I appears before me in a giant brass candle holder. He is amazed and stunned. It gets smaller until it is of standard size. I place it atop a small, round, wooden table that belongs to be the cult leader (even though it is a public area). Some blue, jellylike wax overflows from the giant candle holder. I apologize to him in case any of it falls out to damage the tabletop, though this does not occur. From here, looking at the mixed colors brings me into an abstract state, and I slowly wake. Dream errors other than known infra-control: We have not lived on Stadcor Street for years. One cannot walk to America from Australia, and they are not next to each other. I could not carry a big heavy suitcase very far in waking life. Maps (as well as location orientation) are hardly ever realistic or correct in dreams. I do not question blue wax coming from a yellow candle. I do not recognize a talking dog or magical abilities as strange. Dream opposites: Walking south to Brisbane would imply walking in the opposite direction of where America would be, though this distorts in conflicting ways later. One of the reasons for our move to Bundaberg was concern over an illness more likely to be present in Brisbane (SARS), opposite inference to my dream’s scenario. Dream accuracies: My infra-self is similar to my current conscious self in marriage and family status (as well as living in Australia). Subliminal, liminal, and lucid creation and control of dream content: The summoning of the car with my name on the back is common subliminal control of the dream state, having nothing to do with real life. I have often deliberately done this in both lucid and non-lucid dreams. A car represents maintaining the illusory physicality of the dream state. Driving through buildings, walls, and over water (of which I also do with my illusory dream body without a car) is infra-control, unrelated to real life. I often use infra-control or control when lucid to create and control dream factors. The appearance of clothes is a typical infra-sign I am dreaming (as I do not wear clothes in bed while sleeping). My effort worked on the second attempt, which is common. General concepts: It is usually harder for me to walk in both non-lucid and lucid dreams than to fly (though I usually end up flying whenever I had been walking for a time). With the highest level of lucidity, walking is more thrilling than flying, as the realism of physicality is more defined and accurate. Since early childhood, I have used reading to attain more of a focus on the dream state (though sometimes the writing changes or becomes nonsensical), especially in reading my name somewhere as here. I use yellow and creating and lighting candles (in both lucidity and non-lucidity) to clarify my conscious self identity in the dream state. The homeless man was a preconscious witness to my mode of awareness while the cult leader was this dream’s preconscious avatar. It all comes down to whether the processes of my reticular formation (RAS) have more or less control as my emerging consciousness (the dog in this case) in the waking transition. A dog usually represents how much control I have in the dream state. Animals becoming people is a common waking status, or in fact, anything going from unlikely (such as a talking dog) to resolved. Prescience (updated same day): When I went outside tonight, I found a rucksack of the same colors and size as the one from my dream, lying just outside our house near the curb, that someone could only have dropped tonight. I felt what could have been a baguette through the canvas, but it turned out to be a tall empty water bottle. Zsuzsanna first thought a hookah was sticking out from it, and so did I for a second, until I realized it was a large hydration pack (the kind with a long transparent hose). Looking inside, I discovered it belonged to a Swedish male named Axel. The only other contents were documents, most related to applying for a tax file number. He may have lost it from his bicycle, or maybe someone stole it from him and tossed it.
Morning of August 21, 2018. Tuesday. Reading time: 2 min 22 sec. Readability score: 65. I am with Zsuzsanna and our family but living on Loomis Street (where they have never been in reality, and yet my dream self does not detect the setting as incorrect). My brother-in-law Bob is sitting in his armchair. My mother-in-law is present, and Zsuzsanna is annoyed by her and goes into the bathroom. However, it is the Barolin Street house’s bathroom. We are all standing in here against a different wall. Zsuzsanna is the closest to the door. I tell my mother-in-law that she is the same as ten years ago even though she is not aggressive. (It has been over twenty years. We have not seen her much in reality.) Distracted, I decide to go to the park. The house is again the Loomis Street house before I leave. I walk north to where no park exists in reality. In my dream, it is a large area. I am eating pieces of bread. (My throat is drier than usual as I sleep.) I become aware of wanting to fly (common liminal perception of vestibular system correlation). I look up to a structure that I want to fly up onto (before flying elsewhere), but I notice that a man and woman are seated there on a bench. An unknown male walks to my left. While talking to me, the man soon takes his real left leg off as if it was detachable. He throws it several feet ahead. He asks me how he did, as apparently, he is practicing for an Olympic event. “There was a lot of evenness in your throw,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. He then retrieves it and deliberately throws it onto the left shoulder of an unfamiliar woman sitting at a picnic table (about twelve feet away) with others. That act seemed more like a cheerful prank. The woman seems only slightly annoyed. I do not know if they know each other. I am ready to fly, but there is a subliminal awareness that the physical body in the dream state is not real. That idea projects into another dream character as throwing the leg of their illusory body (left side is usually dream-oriented while the right is directed more toward waking perception as I sleep on my left side), implying that walking is pointless in the dream state. The earlier scene seemed preparatory for RAS (in an apparent need to wake and use the bathroom as Zsuzsanna was to the right of the door from inside the room), as both my brother-in-law and mother-in-law have annoyed me in the past (emotional trigger to cause waking). From there, I liminally created the porch buffer to vivify my dream on the way to vestibular system correlation (flight in this case), which transformed atypically. It is typical for my dreams to mix up settings, never in the same way more than once even in tens of thousands of them, and the endless variation has fascinated me since childhood. Ultimately, this is to prevent my non-lucid dream self (infra-self) from subliminally perceiving my dream setting as a real location. That is also why many events and ideas are incorrect or the opposite as I would have them in waking life other than when biological, literal, or prescient (which reveals one of the many problems with so-called interpretation), or reactive representation of the processes in REM sleep. It fascinates me when people claim that their dream correctly rendered where they lived or have lived, as I have never experienced this in my life even in lucid dreams.
Morning of August 3, 2018. Friday. Reading time: 53 sec. Readability score: 59. For my dream induction (deliberate entry), I decided to be in a stagecoach in primarily an afternoon setting. It is a relaxed and passive dream self incarnation. The sense of movement is very realistic at this stage of vestibular system correlation (a factor of all dreams at this level of consciousness, though typically related to flight). At times, ambiguity enters the sequence, and it almost seems like I am riding in a fast-moving car, including the external ambiance. I maintain the stagecoach setting as Zsuzsanna and our second-youngest son are seated across from me. I see dinosaurs through the window off to my left, including a triceratops, and cannot determine if the stagecoach is traveling through time or an animatronics display in what might be a ghost town (modeled after the “Gunsmoke” set). It seems “safer” to make it an animatronics display, though not as adventurous. I see an orange Volkswagen Beetle parked under low-set branches as if left there long ago. I think of it as “my” old car, but it is a false memory in part. In reality, I only had a big remote control model of one when I was a boy (that my father gave me for Christmas). It ran on real fuel. I mostly made it go in a circle in our big front yard in Cubitis.
Morning of July 29, 2018. Sunday. Reading time: 2 min 29 sec. Readability score: 71. In my dream, I am in an unknown location. There is one area where many unfamiliar people are sitting at picnic tables. Zsuzsanna is with me. I am planning on going on a long journey to other parts of the world. There is at least one thread of dream state awareness, though my dream self is not lucid. I remember that I can create whatever I want. I ask the group if there is anyone who wants to travel with me. A few seem doubtful, as I do not appear to be wealthy. However, I recall that I can produce unlimited amounts of money. Still, when I open my wallet to show a few different people, the bills are play money. Although the imagery changes several times, it is still play money. Each time, the notes are all identical other than when I take them out, and there are about four different types, which look like fake foreign currency. Despite my anticipation (subliminal RAS mediation), I am confident that things will go as I expect. Only one male seems cheerfully keen on joining us. I tell the people that one of the locations we will be going to is Easter Island. I say that I do not remember its name. (This, of course, makes no sense as I had spoken it.) I am thinking of a name like “Tahiti” or “Tahoe,” which I say to them as well, but I am unsure. They do not respond to my ridiculous state of absentmindedness. Zsuzsanna and I, and the other man walk near an unknown shopping mall. She is soon walking farther away on my left, and the man is walking farther away on my right. My dream changes and we are in a strange composite of the Arcadia post office, the Loomis Street house, the King Street mansion, and our present home. The orientation is mostly as the Loomis Street house, except the second storey mixes with the first. Toward the back of the house, I hear an unknown female voice scream, “Please…someone…help me!” It seems to have something to do with her baby in a pram nearby. That wakes me up. I am unsure if this stems from a subliminal awareness of Zsuzsanna not being home at the time which I did not know until waking up (and perhaps created by way of my own RAS model) or if it was a thread from the interconsciousness from an unknown person. Due to its realism, my guess is the latter, but I have no way of knowing who it was, at least yet. (When I had the vivid spoken words and event in a dream about a girl named Isabelle falling off a balcony, including her last name, I thought that was spiritual confirmation of using the name Isabelle for our daughter, which we did, as we had already considered it. However, someone with that full name fell from a balcony at that same time. I had already heard variations of the last name in dreams, Colman, but I was not familiar with it in real life. Our daughter was born on the 26th of November in 2012. This type of event has happened many times before, even with John Belushi and even with more insignificant dangers in contrast to death, such as the fuse box fire regarding my older sister Marilyn and the toaster fire at age four, regarding my sister Carol. I remain uncertain why I happen to be the one to perceive it, though with Zsuzsanna, her “sending” was strong long before we met in real life and determined to be intentional and a viable way of communication we still use, though less since she got her cell phone.)
Morning of July 25, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,846-05. Reading time: 1 min 20 sec. In the morning, Zsuzsanna received a message about a contest from an unknown sender, but I am wary. Although it seems like a legitimate competition at first, it turns out that a gangster had buried a jewelry box near our house (that in my dream is first a variation of the Loomis Street house and near the southwest corner, though the sidewalk is not present.) Eventually, several unfamiliar men are near our house. They look for their buried jewelry box for the valuable items inside. I see them as intruders and realize at this point that it is not a legitimate contest, but that unknown men were using an area of our yard to hide their loot from other criminals. I hit two of them with shovels, but I think they might have guns. I want to protect my family, but there is no logic in not letting them get what they want and leave without bothering us, so I wait. My family remains inside our house during this time. Eventually, the gangsters are no longer present. Our house changes into a version of our present home. Two female police officers are in our kitchen. Each of them is wearing a blue bikini and a black trench coat, which makes me think they may not be real police officers. I go outside to see them digging in two areas of our backyard. There is a police car parked there, and that could mean they are real police officers. I ask them if they are real cops. One of them looks at me with an annoying glance, saying that people only use the word “cop” on the Internet. I remain unsure if they are real officers, but I slowly wake as it now seems as if they are gardening rather than looking for loot. When I was in middle school, a female bus driver, as my schoolmates were boarding, was angry upon hearing someone say “cop.” She said people should not say “cop,” because it was disrespectful.
Updated 07-28-2019 at 06:27 AM by 1390
Morning of July 22, 2018. Sunday. Reading time: 1 min 44 sec. Readability score: 76. I am living in an apartment in an unusual combination of the Loomis Street house and the King Street mansion. It is oriented as the Loomis Street house though implied to be on a corner; probably the southwest corner of Loomis and Gillette Streets. I am on the second floor until the last scene. An annoying unknown male is present and keeps talking to me and imposing on me when I want to be with Zsuzsanna. He is the preconscious avatar of this dream. Zsuzsanna appears as she was when we first met. At first, I am passive about his presence. Eventually, I begin to swear at him. There is a point where I see a middle drawer of his desk open and close it so that he does not think that I had been snooping in his room, even though I do not know how I ended up here. Through a window on the north side, I watch events unfolding outside on the ground below. Two men are working on cutting grass along the curb. One man injures his hand on a shrub. Another man will be taking him to the hospital even though it does not seem that bad. There is another scene where I want to be with Zsuzsanna, but the preconscious comes and starts talking again. I am annoyed and swear at him again. I see what looks like a shelf facing the doorway of the northeast bedroom (of the Loomis Street house). It may be refrigerated. I notice several green cans of V Energy Drink. (None of us ever drank this in real life.) In the last scene, Zsuzsanna and I are on a bigger version of the Loomis Street porch. Patrick Stewart as Jean-Luc Picard is present. He continues to grin, although he is seemingly not directly aware of us. I consider it may be a publicity stunt. He starts talking about himself and his body. Borg implants may be around his abdomen. The scene becomes bizarre. A big aquarium rises around him. There seem to be cables holding him up about two feet from the bottom of this sudden aquarium. An impossible amount of water sprays from his crotch area, filling the aquarium up to his waist. The water lowers again. That has to be the most unusual form of water lowering waking symbolism I have ever experienced. On a side note, I did not have to use the bathroom that urgently. My dreams most often render a porch as a reactive representation of the waking space. A porch is my most common buffer between dreaming and waking. Vestibular system correlation projects as Captain Picard, as the emergent consciousness simulacrum.
Morning of July 21, 2018. Saturday. Reading time: 2 min 5 sec. Readability score: 79. I am with Zsuzsanna for the first time in my dream. We are as we were when we met in February 1994. However, where she lives is different. The house seems to have only one floor. (There have been many dreams where we were together for the first time, each as an alternate timeline, but typically with blissful associations.) We plan on going to America to live, rather than remaining in Australia. We are walking through a park late at night, and several unfamiliar people are present. It seems we are walking to the airport. (The area looks like a park I was only in once when I was six years old when my parents and I were traveling from Wisconsin to Florida to live.) There is a sudden unexpected eerie mood as a creature comes out of the dense woods. An incredibly loud roar echoes throughout the area. It is a big mandrill that emerges from the forest that borders much of the park. Most of the other people look alarmed. Some begin to run. Zsuzsanna and I quickly go in the opposite direction as the others. At first, I think the animal will chase the others, but it looks toward us and charges. We go atop a log that is tipped slightly from a tree stump near another tree. The mandrill starts to eat us both at the same time, swallowing our hands first. I am annoyed at this outcome and subliminally reset my dream to begin from the same point but without the creature. We arrive at the airport. It is still night. Zsuzsanna is elsewhere for a short time. I am uncertain what airplane to get. An unfamiliar woman who works at the airport and is standing with a few unknown members of the public talks to me. Referring to Zsuzsanna and me, she clearly says, “You are the two special people on this world. Yin and Yang.” She says she is an angel. From here, I wander off and ask if there are angels in the airport, but no one else says much. Zsuzsanna and I are soon sitting in the back of the plane. In fact, we are so far back, there is only room for us in the area, as it tapers somewhat. The perception of movement is extraordinarily vivid and like being on a real airplane that is taking off. However, when I look out the windows to my right, we have not yet left the ground. I consider what could happen. The airplane might explode in midair or crash, but I am unconcerned. I continue to feel the movement throughout my body. I notice that we are moving on what seems like a highway bordered by guardrails. It is curiously in the form of a complex winding roller coaster shape that continues to go higher. I do not consider this as odd. The pilot is doing his job well, and I trust him. He makes a sharp turn and continues up the runway. I decide to sleep until we arrive in America. It will not be long before we are in our new circumstances.
Morning of July 19, 2018. Thursday. In my dream, there is the usual snake scenario, though there are different factors as is typically the case. Our two youngest sons are present in the unfamiliar room. The setting is meant to be the house we are now living, but it is not familiar. There is a small snake that does not seem much of a threat. It slithers off into an area of miscellaneous items; mostly toys. We see a big green snake. As it slithers out, I swing at it with a sword, though I miss the first time. I chop off its head in my next attempt. The nature of my dream changes. Some unknown people are present, but I do not see them as intruders. The setting now seems to be a discernible variation of the Loomis Street house. They are going somewhere. An unknown female is leaving her daughter behind in the back of her car. That seems a bit unusual to me, but I think I will check up on her later. Later, the setting changes into what seems to be a variation of the Barolin Street house. I hear a noise on the porch, and I go to check. I consider it might be one of our children, though it now seems late at night. After I open the front door, I see an unknown boy on the porch in the semidarkness. He seems to be an East Indian of about fourteen years old. He is standing in the center of the porch, which is larger than it was in real life. “What do you want?” I ask him. He does not move, and I become slightly annoyed. Perhaps he is a neighbor’s son wanting to sell me something, though I remain unsure. I consider that he might be intruding deliberately. I do not know his motive. “Suzi, could you get my gun?” I call out to my left. The boy looks concerned and turns to leave. "I was just kidding,” I say as he is exiting the porch. After this, there is awareness of the world soon coming to an end. I sit on a couch across from Zsuzsanna, and she seems concerned. It is now morning in an unfamiliar lounge room. (It is still implied to be our home.) My dream self does not register the sudden change in time as is almost always the case. The world is going to end today. I am not sure how I know. I feel wary of this idea. I think back and understand it somehow relates to an encounter I had with someone. I am in an anomalous state that I cannot resolve consciously. I know it is from a previous dream encounter, presumed to be from before the snake event. Although I know I am dreaming I do not know I am dreaming. I soon wake with the full realization that I had been dreaming, feeling relieved. Still, I cannot resolve the enigma of knowing I was dreaming, yet not knowing. It was as if my dream self knew I was dreaming without my conscious identity knowing. Although this has happened on other levels repeatedly since childhood (especially in non-lucid dream control), it has never been expressed in this specific way before. The porch showdown with the preconscious avatar (a common form of RAS mediation since early childhood) had different dynamics than usual. The mood was different and seemed more like an interconsciousness avatar. It was even more like an external entity, though this might have been illusory. The “end of the world” scenario has occurred regularly since childhood. I rarely have anxiety in dreams, but in this one I did. I think it might have been heavily influenced by “Dream Replicants and the Emergence of Simulacra” by Richard Catlett Wilkerson, as I had also been writing a series of pages about emerging consciousness simulacra. For example, one part in Richard’s text read, “More currently, Carl Jung, and then James Hillman have suggested that even the ego in the dream, who I think of as me in the dream, may also not be me. Linda Magallón has also suggested we give the dream a higher existential reality and address the dream and dreamer and dreaming process as a kind of entity.” Ultimately, it represents my subliminal knowledge of my dream ending. The snake scenario, in this case, is typical RAS modulation (which is very common in most people, yet somehow no one ever catches on even with some websites featuring a few dreams a day with the same content). Here, it only served to shift my level of consciousness rather than wake me. Cutting off the snake’s head was autosymbolism for subliminally separating from my conscious self’s identity for a time, as in other dreams. (Snakes otherwise signify different aspects in other dream types when not a segment of the RAS factor, often human intestine, umbilical cord, or electrical cord warnings.) Green shows up more in a particular band of awareness, midway through the dreaming process (also signifying peace and balance depending on the hue), followed by yellow (unification stage of the dream self and conscious self), orange, and red. Red, however, usually only dominates when I have slept too long in the last dream of a sleep cycle.
Updated 11-17-2019 at 07:14 PM by 1390
Morning of July 17, 2018. Tuesday. In my dream, the setting is an isolated version of our present home, with the erroneous factor of being in a large field. The roof is different from what it is in reality and is more like the roof of the Cubitis house. We have neighbors who live nearby, but not as in a typical suburban area. It seems to be late morning in my dream. Threads of my conscious self identity are scant, but I am aware of my marriage and family. Vestibular system correlation begins in the form of the approaching winds of a storm. Zsuzsanna and I are outside. I see a tornado. It is not a threat and seems unusually thin. I non-lucidly mediate the weather without my dream self becoming lucid. As time passes, there are a few more tornadoes. One of them moves toward our house. As I anticipated, one of the tornadoes turns, moving into our house, tearing the roof off, but not doing any other damage. “Oh no, not again,” I say, without much emotion or excitement. (This is a reference to the natural disaster that we survived in November of last year.) There are several large sections of boards scattered about the yard. (I do not see steel roof sheeting as in reality.) There are also sections of tar paper (which I have not seen in real life since the 1970s). An unknown Hispanic male, apparently our closest neighbor, comes over to look at the damage. He exhibits a cheerful and helpful attitude. My dream self automatically correlates with the factor of non-lucid dream control (with no discernible trigger) and I start to realize that I can will the roof to become whole again. Pieces of the roof fly up and go back onto our house so that the roof is complete. At one point, I hold onto small rods that are part of the foundation of the house and wiggle them around as the top of the house rebuilds itself. (This is an attempt to reinduce my dream or to get more sleep, as it represents the vertical pipe of the outdoor faucet near the front of our house in reality.) I wake shortly after this. There is no exploration of indoors in this dream. It all takes place outdoors. Readability score: 73 (likely to be understood by a reader who has at least a 7th-grade education).
Morning of July 12, 2018. Thursday. My dream is set in our present home, though it is rendered as somewhat larger. I am in the lounge room. A beautiful little parakeet, mainly an atypical mix of green, yellow, white, and blue, is hopping around from one of my hands to another, also up and down my arm. Zsuzsanna comes into our lounge room. The bird flies up and onto Zsuzsanna’s left shoulder. I have a vague expectation that the bird might fly off, but it continues to sit on her shoulder, watching me. I experience a sense of peace and joy. On one level, I realize that I am controlling the bird’s actions and behavior, though this is in the back of my mind. (This is similar to how, in apex lucidity, I manipulate vestibular system correlation autosymbolism when rendered as birds in flight so that they freeze in midair and become suspended silhouettes, though I am not lucid here.) This dream is NOT based on memory or memory processing as many so-called researchers or “experts” claim. This dream is NOT a result of events of the previous day as many people claim. The only traceable thread relevant to waking life is based on how our oldest daughter carries mice around, as they run up and down her arms, and I sometimes ask her if they might jump from her, but that has not happened. This dream is NOT symbolic in waking life context, which is typically not possible when not conscious and not lucid, despite the misguided claims of both “professionals” and random people in society. This dream is autosymbolic (simultaneously symbolic of sleeping, dreaming, transpersonal, biological, and waking processes) of transpersonal communication between Zsuzsanna and I (which occurs in waking life as a flash of “blue fire” in my left field of vision). Additionally; it partly stems from vestibular system correlation and the absence of the viable discernment of physicality when in REM sleep, which I have experienced in various forms in every sleep cycle since earliest memory. What, do people think the physical body flawlessly goes into the dream state and then back out when they wake? What do you think causes flying and falling dreams? In waking life, you have a real physical body. In dreams, you do not, as it is only a model; an ephemeral illusion. This is all moot, as my dream self’s focus is on exploring the nature of the dream state and waking process and its transition in anticipatory liminal focus, not waking life as a rule (other than when literalism and prescience are factors). #stop_dream_disinfo_now
Updated 07-12-2018 at 01:46 PM by 1390
Morning of May 31, 2018. Thursday. In my dream, I am back in the Loomis Street house. In this case, my thread of memory of being married to Zsuzsanna is extant, but everything else is absent. There is a vague backstory that develops out of the liminal awareness of being in the dream state, autosymbolism that brings about little white clouds outside of which are only about three feet above the ground. To summarize, my dream involves looking outside (from the south room of the Loomis Street house) in late morning and seeing these little white miniature cumulus clouds, again, hovering above the ground, though only in a singular sparse row between the houses, slowly drifting east to west. I feel a very unusual sense of something being “off”, and yet no lucidity is triggered by this liminal awareness. I illogically “realize” that clouds being this low to the ground, even though they are small, will cause earthquakes. An earthquake does occur, and I go into the middle north bedroom (where I never slept in real life). Zsuzsanna and I cheerfully interact. (Obviously, a bedroom, even the “wrong” one, is a dream state indicator, not symbolism or more accurately, not autosymbolism, as dreams are not symbolic in the conventional sense.) Earthquakes occurred very often in childhood dreams, usually only the first dream of my sleep cycle, and they were not threatening to me in any way. This developed out of liminal dream control where I would deliberately shake a scene from side to side to intentionally change the setting of my dream (not by moving my dream self’s head but by willing the setting to waver from side to side to bring about a different setting, typically barnyards, forests, train stations, a friend’s house, and so on). Over the years, this was no longer required due to certain advanced knowledge when in the dream state even without lucidity (despite the absence of my conscious self identity), but this still remains an occasional residual factor.
Morning of May 27, 2018. Sunday. Typical RAS modulation autosymbolism was going strong in this non-lucid dream but still did not activate the waking process, so I slept a couple hours longer than I usually do (even though Zsuzsanna and our children were up and in the lounge room with the television on at one point). If I cannot rely on RAS to wake me at a certain time with unique dream content (which is what a dream’s autosymbolism is inherently for) at the top of an ultradian rhythm, then I consider that very unusual. In the first part of my dream, the setting is a unique new variation of the King Street mansion, the second-floor apartment in the middle of the east side of the house. My non-lucid dream self does not care that it is an impossible setting. I happily sit around on the floor for awhile listening to bizarre fictitious music (on a record player yet) where the lyrics make no sense at all. The “music” seems to have rock elements, but the male vocals are mostly randomly spoken phrases. I hear the audience cheering, so it must be a live recording. At one point, he chants slowly but loudly and clearly, “Yellow bathroom”. (This is a biological hint to my dream self, but I do not feel the need to use the bathroom in my dream.) I notice my curtains are open, and I see an unfamiliar male lying on his left side on a ledge, in his underwear, enjoying the wind and smiling. It seems to be late morning. Apparently, he is enjoying the music I am playing. (Of course, this is a liminal projection of how my real physical body is as I sleep.) I am annoyed that neighbors can see in, so I attempt to close the curtain. (In reality, this scene could not be possible either, as the windows had only a view of the front of the house across the street, so there was no side of a house right near the King Street house, though what does my non-lucid dream self care, from a lack of any viable connection with either the unconscious mind or my conscious self.) I hear an unfamiliar girl’s voice yelling about my music, and their music is turned on more loudly, even though the male was enjoying my music. (I did not think my music was loud at all.) A different male argues with her and there is yelling for a short time. I go into a different room and I am now in the lounge room of the Stadcor Street house (which only has the first floor) with Zsuzsanna. Now, the events are shifted to the first floor in the house next door as well (and as usual my dream self does not notice the impossible change). I mention something to Zsuzsanna about the music and an unfamiliar male, who can see into our house through our window from his window, loudly says, “You think you can beat me?” I reply by yelling, “Why don’t you leave us alone?” I then yell at no one in particular, “I’m tired of crazy people always living next door to us!” I go out to the front yard and bash several unfamiliar males on the head with my Olympic barbel (no weights) and swing it around like a baseball bat until no one else is standing or moving. My dream shifts into reinduction rather than the waking process during the RAS modulation event and I now find myself riding in a skiff tied to the back of a small motor yacht. Curiously, I do not recognize this scene for what it is and no lucidity is triggered, only an elevated vividness. I am now a female (of about twenty-five), though not a female I have any conscious knowledge of. A man tells me to tie an additional length of rope from my boat to the back of his motor yacht (as the previous one had apparently came off and I am now drifting over the ocean). I somehow do this even though the distance would not logically allow it. I throw the rope and pull it lightly, but a large knot seems to make itself with no effort on my part (to my left; reinduction orientation and stabilizing). “That’s a good knot,” says the unfamiliar captain from the other boat. A few other unfamiliar people look on. After a time, I am “myself” (though only about twenty-five) and another (unfamiliar) male is sitting to my right. We are still on a skiff on the ocean, but there is no other boat now. We go through an ambiguous area where it seems I am inside a house for a short distance even though we are also on the ocean. I notice many large sharks swimming below us. The water is unrealistically clear. I am wondering if there is any danger, though I do not feel concerned. The other male denies there is any danger and tells me how sharks only eat things that are at its own level in the water. I do not feel any fear, more like cheerfulness (almost comedic) even though there seem to be hundreds of sharks below us. Soon, the scene shifts and I am walking with the same male and an unfamiliar female. We are in an unfamiliar town near mostly commercial buildings. After we walk a short distance, the male vanishes. We look back to see someone running in the distance. Suddenly, I am aware that we will be blamed for the kidnapping of the male that vanished. We are carrying small plastic bags. We stop to look inside them. The girl’s bag has the ID of the male that vanished. I know that the police will be here soon and that we are being framed by an unknown person. I take the ID and throw it behind a soda vending machine thinking it will not be found and that I am being careful and intelligent in my action. The police arrive and I am still holding one of the small plastic bags. The scene somehow shifts to where I am in a police station (though of more of a restaurant appearance). The police officer is looking at the supposedly kidnapped man’s credit card (made of cardboard), a large sparse clump of hair, and some other items. The officers do not seem to think I had anything to do with anything, but I still tell them we were framed. (The girl is soon no longer present.) “Can you take fingerprints from plastic bags?” I ask. I say, “I know my fingerprints are on them, but they will probably also have the fingerprints of the kidnapper.” “Can you take fingerprints from hair,” I ask. “Can you take prints from paper?” A police officer at a counter looks at me as if he is wondering why I am still here. Two other officers look at me annoyingly as well. They are not interested in me at all. I decide to finally leave my dream (in a liminal state, as I am not viably lucid until the last moments) and finally wake as I step through the door. (This last part is quite odd. I am liminally trying to force RAS modulation by way of my conscious self, but nothing happens, probably because the process is often transpersonal in origin in its natural form. On one level, something similar occurred recently, where I learned I was not in trouble for “killing” an unknown male, though my dream self had the opposite focus as to this one and I did not seem to be as fully modulating it myself.)
Recent Comments
