Blue_Opossum

Morning of August 29, 2016. Monday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are in bed, though I do not pick up on the fact that the orientation is quite different. Beyond my feet (I seem to be lying on my back) and not that far from our bed, I notice that three young men of about twenty years of age (possibly younger) had been looking at us through the mail slot on our front door (even though we have no mail slot and in fact I have never been in or lived in a house with this sort of layout).

The three males take turns looking at us, which is odd because I think they might also see through the window in the door (although this is not certain) unless they want to remain mostly out of sight. Since I am nude, I am therefore not embarrassed about any implication of having slept in my clothes (as in a few past dreams including a recent one), but I am very annoyed at these imposers.

I get out of our bed (without getting dressed) and get my large barbell (my weapon of choice in many dreams) and go to our front door (of a fictional appearance) and shove it through the mail slot to bonk one of them on the head and continue to strike whoever is within reach after mentioning something about this imposition to Zsuzsanna. (Discovering that unknown people, usually younger males, had been watching me as I sleep is a long-term recurring dream situation since early childhood, though usually non-threatening, and is a dream sign of residual subliminal memories carried over into sleep, which typically represent threads of my own conscious mind or in some cases an unexpected environmental noise. In this case, my conscious mind’s “intrusion” into the realm of my dream self is validated by the mail slot, which represents potential communication between non-lucid dream self and conscious self. Because I probably do not want to wake up yet, I subliminally “pretend” it is an intrusion by strangers, though in some cases there actually are real voices on the public footpath from outside our house when we are sleeping.)

The scene and setting very curiously shifts to one where Zsuzsanna and I are sitting in armchairs (now fully clothed) in an unknown mostly featureless room with the three unknown males who are sitting on wooden chairs. Three small dogs, possibly chihuahuas, are running around and are seemingly a mild threat though they do not come close enough to bite either of us. I push them away with the barbell and also bonk the males on the heads a few times even though they do not directly attack us. I do not really feel like hurting the dogs and we leave without incident.

Later, I am in the backyard of our present home on W Street. Zsuzsanna is sleeping on her left side in a grass cocoon (seemingly intricately woven of thin grass) very close to the west fence. I hear someone talking, probably walking south past our house, and wonder if they are going to bother us by looking through the gaps in our fence. Zsuzsanna looks beautiful. The grass cocoon covers almost every part of her with the appearance of a papoose, with only her face showing through an open oval area. There is a sense of love and peace.

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