Blue_Opossum

Morning of March 27, 2018. Tuesday.



I am in Cubitis, but my old home is gone. On one level, it feels somewhat strange for me to be there and see the flat ground extending over what used to be a living area. Still, my dream becomes so abstract, only the basics can be relayed in text. The orange grove is still present. (In real life, the house is still there, but the orange grove is gone, thus this dream is of opposite implications.)

There is the common ambiguous awareness of being indoors and outdoors at the same time (even though the house or its carport is not yet present).

A backstory begins to form. An unfamiliar elderly lady is going to live in a new house where mine used to be. I decide that I will build it, or at least begin to build it. Curiously, I am somewhat aware of Zsuzsanna being in my life, but in my dream, there is little else of my conscious self identity present.

An unfamiliar young girl and boy come from the north as I am “building the house”. So far, I only have one corner with two bottoms of walls, only a few inches high, yet I am also now aware of a part of the carport floor. Eventually, there is an argument relating to a new piece I am adding to the house. The piece is like a long narrow section of concrete with equadistant small spheres illogically attached. The girl makes the claim that a couple of the spheres are cracked as well as part of the concrete, but I see no such feature. I do not yet add it to the house, and I get very annoyed. The scenario makes no sense at all, though is not as wholly abstract as other dreams. The carport as in waking life seems to be present and yet not present (until the last part of this dream segment). I am thinking of how others will come in and complete the house, yet there is still the ambiguous focus that I will do it, though by mental will.

I soon notice a cinder block wall behind the work I have so far done, oriented to the east. This seems problematic, because the house needs to take up the entire original area and there is otherwise not much room for the building. I consider if the house should be exactly like the original was, or if the unknown woman will need that much space.

I go over to the gray wall, and after a little effort, push it over. It lands flat and even with the edge of the incomplete carport floor and I consider, and am satisfied, that this fallen wall will now serve as part of the carport surface. I move my hands over the area with an enhanced sense of touch and a clearer awareness, as the act of pushing the wall down vivified my dream (due to the fact that a wall is a liminal space divider between different levels of unconsciousness and in-dream perception).

From here, as a result of having pushed over this in-dream “divider”, I wander off into a different dream state (though sometimes a wall as such is a more defined division between the distorted dream self identity and true conscious self identity).

The rest is a meandering mess. I go into my teenage years mode for a short time, wandering about, then into an unfamiliar kitchen setting where one man seems somehow stuck under a table with his leg somehow caught around a chair leg. He is lying on his side on the floor, halfway out from under the table, and another male is trying to help him up. The man on the floor is someone I had only talked with once years ago in Clayfield (I think his surname was Papadopoulos and this is the first time he has ever appeared in a dream as far as I remember). Zsuzsanna is present. I walk around to another part of the room. As I shift into a different dream setting, I am attempting to read some sort of listings in a newspaper as I wake.

---

The man on the floor is my emergent consciousness factor (the other unknown male, the preconscious personification), the typical distorted precursory autosymbolism for waking and getting up out of bed. The act of reading in the last scene validates this, as this signifies my thinking skills beginning to emerge as I wake. As dreams are autosymbolic, not symbolic of waking life or with nebulous “interpretations” as such (as literal prescience and autosymbolic waking life factors are far more obvious and discernible), there is nothing here that is new or unusual to me in the dreaming sense.

In life, I will never stop dreaming about my Cubitis home in infinite unique forms, or in fact, of any place I have ever lived or been, or unique fictitious settings either. There is not a waking life reason for this; it just is what it is, the nature of unconsciousness.

---