Blue_Opossum

Morning of May 9, 2018. Wednesday.



In my dream, I am living back on Barolin Street, but there is not much else regarding conscious self identity. In fact, there is uncertainty over the country the setting is implied to be in, though I should assume Australia even though the police sound and act American. There is more of an open area and a larger side yard on the south side of the house.

The typical preconscious modulation kicks in and it is an unfamiliar male of about thirty. Curiously, in this case, I am outside the porch rather than on it or in the house. I jab him just below the sternum with a stick (or possibly the handle of a broom) and it seems to go all the way through his body and out his back. Still, I am uncertain of whether or not I killed him. Even so, I stay outside while he apparently falls back into the porch. This of course causes a shift in unconsciousness, though my dream continues.

When I am in the side yard, three police officers arrive. I first think I may go to prison, though it is never determined if the man had actually died or not. Suddenly, there are several unknown members of the public sitting around at picnic tables.

There are two male police officers and one female officer, all unfamiliar. The two male officers start to be cheerfully condescending of me being South American (even though I am not). To my left, they dance happily around while a mix of music plays, which seems an ambiguous combination of Mexican Mariachi, Bolivian, and Andean. They are greatly enjoying themselves and dance around smiling at me but seem to be patronizing me with their tomfoolery. I am not sure how to respond and I remain sitting at the picnic table. One of them puts on a poncho and talks cheerfully about me, additionally asking me how I like living in South America. I do not say much.

Finally, in the last scene, the female officer talks happily to me. Apparently, I will not be getting into any trouble at all even though I suspect I killed the intruder. I am vaguely aware of manipulating the RAS mediation (as is often the case), actually feeling the change over time, though I have no actual lucidity (thus, this is the common transition of liminal dream control experienced since earliest memory), and that the RAS personification had gone in my favor without its modulation. I feel good about the waking transition, though my conscious self identity does not fully kick in until I am awake.

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