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Morning of April 9, 1984. Monday.



I was in bed, listening to The Alan Parsons Project’s “Tales of Mystery and Imagination: Edgar Allan Poe”. I imagined the imagery and detail. It was one of my favorite cassettes of the time, along with their “I Robot” album.

In one vivid dream of the “mystery girl”, the petite Persian Hungarian gypsy girl from Australia (with a curious mixed accent) with the beautiful green eyes and dark curly hair, there is a storm coming; a large tornado. This, for whatever reason, does not concern me all that much.

As the tornado gets closer, I do feel a slight wariness. The tornado is the lower half of the Merkaba in dreams, and at other levels, is the unknown future or “destiny” if you will. On another level it is the energies of the supraconscious (Universal Mind) in connecting with other levels of consciousness as perceived by the conscious mind; that is, other “realms” of mind and supraconscious exchanging energies as a new force as with a cold front meeting a warm front in causing wind and stormy weather. As I am at least partly lucid, I am not worried about being killed. Once I step into the tornado I see a beautiful young girl and recognize her as my “dream girl”. She leans back on a bed and as I approach her (in this case, I somehow see myself approaching her) there is a sense of wholeness. It is almost as if I rose above the tornado and looked down into it, where everything was clear and blue, a circular portal; an image of fulfillment.

In a dream within a dream, I am seemingly Edgar Allan Poe in a way. My dream journals are so extensive that I have indexes within indexes, often copied to new journals with additional important observations and notes added. A raven wants to be fed stale undercooked hamburger, which it seems to like more than bologna or canned fish. I seem to receive a very important “warning” related to not allowing “ordinary” people to influence me in any way and not allow them to “interpret” not only my dreams, but even ideas I develop over time out of life experiences. I sensed an unusual idea that other people one day, around the world, would see a small part of my childhood dream work as well as other writing. Of course, this seemed like a preposterous idea. How could one just “show their dreams on television for others to watch” whenever they felt like it? Perhaps the advancements of computers could achieve this? Likely far too expensive for the average person to ever be feasible…

One person said that the tornado was related to my “mental turmoil” (though I had less “turmoil” than others I knew) over my pretense that I would be married to a beautiful girl and have children within ten years or so. The raven was perhaps a burden, it was claimed, a “shadowy presence” representing despair, “a shadow hanging over me”. However, in my dreams, my two youngest “fictional” children learn from the raven, which speaks to them of the patterns of life and nature. I supposed other people would have been happy over me never marrying who I considered the most beautiful girl on Earth in another country. People in general have mostly only “cop outs” to share, “cop outs” which never have any value, except in learning and knowing what not to do or what not to believe from others or society as a whole.

Years later, in real life, after I married my dream girl, “our” raven sat on my chair watching me type on my computer. My two healthy and loving children enjoyed having a raven in the house for a few weeks until I decided it was fully healed (from a non-fatal dog attack) enough to fly on its own. It still came back and said “hi” now and then…but there was one time at the computer, when I reached behind me to give it a piece of raw stale hamburger and gave it a pat that I thought of the potential for the majority of “ordinary” human beings to ever accept the truth…or in fact, have any credibility at all. I almost thought I heard the raven quote (deep in the recesses of my mind) “nevermore”.

Morning of April 7, 1984. Saturday.



A female classmate and neighbor (and validated precognitive wife-to-be “stand-in” or resolved personal archetype) who is slightly younger than me, Brenda W, is trying to resurrect her dead pet ferret by placing various old silver coins, including foreign coins, in the ground near trees (including between extensions of roots). It actually seems to work and she is happy. I see her near a shopfront late at night and she acknowledges me happily. This is set possibly in Milwaukee, Wisconsin even though I knew her to only live in Florida. No one else seems to be around in most scenes except perhaps in the background. The storefront seems to be easterly of my dream-self’s perspective. As a somewhat vaguely implied back story scene, a local preacher (possibly Connell of Florida) talks about the Resurrection of Jesus, which Brenda is supposed to widely promote in a special “travel brochure”(?) which also relates to some sort of ambiguous business that loosely reminds me of the lemonade-stand-like psychiatrist booth run by Lucy in the “Peanuts” comic strip. Something goes wrong with the machine (which seems to be in or near a grocery store checkout) and instead of printing “The Resurrection of Jesus”, it prints “The Erection of Sausages” which Brenda laughs at hysterically.

Update June 20, 2015: After all this time, I see it is likely a play on “hot dog stand” regarding the primary school Adam and Eve gag. (”Eve, in being the first vendor, made Adam’s Hot Dog Stand”.) As much meticulous dream journalism as I had done continuously since early childhood, some fairly obvious layers, explanations (hidden meanings), and metaphorical plays did not become clearer until years later, even after studying the content numerous times.

In an old recurring childhood theme I have written much on even as a young child (and in fact even atypically acted out with friends at school who unfortunately changed the theme into being zombie-related, albeit creatively), in the first (prototype) dream, “The Dead One”, Brenda W seemed to have been resurrected into a normal life again, but ran from me in the city streets and remained unapproachable. There was also the “Wild Weasel” dream - but which was seemingly resolved to be a Tasmanian devil in the final versions. I believe there is a connection to my general unexplained path concerning the “mystery girl”. This dream seems to be some sort of offbeat comedic composite of both childhood dreams. The ferret likely represents the maturing male stage in this case (with a possible link to the emerging cicada nymph concept regarding my marriage, as my wife collected cicada shells as a child and made miniature cemeteries complete with miniature wooden crosses, not knowing yet that they were only exoskeletons - also impersonally related to “seven-year-itch” and “seven-year-locust”, including the business cycle meaning - terms I have only heard and do not “get” at all - but then, most of mainstream humanity and their beliefs make no sense to me). It is not quite anniversary precognition, as it is off by a couple days concerning my marriage ten years later (though apparently there was a version on the ninth, though not as clear).

Morning of February 8, 1984. Wednesday.



I seem to be in an unknown or at least unrecognizable area at a motel. It may be in Wisconsin (where I am living in real life) or possibly in a larger city in Florida. The area seems completely deserted other than with my presence. The motel and its larger rooms seem oriented to the south. I get the impression I am a different “character”. I may have a job to do involving a revolver which is apparently in a drawer in one of the motel rooms. I do not seem to be certain which room it is at first but eventually find it.

This is somehow, but indirectly, connected to another dream section set in a different time, or perhaps it only seems that way. At any rate, it is like an old-fashioned western town. There is a younger girl walking around who may be either Effie Elmer or Betty Jane W (but probably based on Jenny C). Since my dream was recurring, there were different associations. I am lying on my side in the middle of a dirt road, possibly injured relative to my dream’s “back story” though I do not feel hurt. It is the dirt road through this old western town (which resembles Dodge City on the television series “Gunsmoke”). Although the first setting was seemingly deserted and somehow even isolated, this town has activity. I only see the legs and feet of the girl in my partial view of looking under a horse and buggy towards the wooden sidewalk. No one seems to notice me or at least directly regard my presence there on the ground.

Oddly, when the girl turns to walk in the opposite direction that the horse and buggy is going, she vanishes completely, as the area otherwise blocked by the buggy is then revealed. No one is there. This happens several times in “resets”. Perhaps she is a phantom.

I am not sure what my role is in either scenario; the apparently modern motel, or the old western town. Perhaps I am there to warn someone or even to shoot someone, but there is no stronger emotion for the most part. Feet and lower legs are all that is ever seen of the possibly unknown girl. She appears to be wearing old-fashioned shoes with buckles. My dream does not seem to have an intentional “plot” of any kind; it just presents the two scenes.

Morning of October 5, 1983. Wednesday.



In my dream, I am watching the news in my L-shaped room at the end of the hall (and to the right) in the King Street boarding house. The television is in a similar location as it is in real life - in about the middle of the longest rectangular area (but is color instead of black and white), but turned perpendicularly towards the east where I am apparently seated or in bed. I am not that aware, but I am focused on the imagery and sound of the television news report.

Over time, I become more and more clear on where I am and what I am seeing within my dream. The man on television is about thirty and wearing a necktie of mostly blue and orange. In real life, the sustained buzzing of my alarm clock had started. This causes my dream to take on a rather bizarre change. The man I am watching on the television starts grabbing at his neck immediately as he is saying “and they are going to…mahhhhhh” - his voice warping flawlessly into the alarm clock sound (the implied word seeming to be “make”, yet only the m is human-like). The buzzing alarm clock sound is coming from his open mouth and he is desperately trying to loosen his tie, continuing to clutch at his throat as it buzzes, with his visage being more and more horrified. After a fairly short time, I am aware that I am coming out of my dream state.

This is a very good example of a dream that is apparently completely lacking in meaning or foresight (at least at one level - I did not document all the nuances of the in-dream news report) and suddenly truncated (or “interrupted”, assuming my dream was “going anywhere” in plot) by a real-life event, in this case, real-life audio - as in probably about equally occurring contrast to in-dream precognition or foreshadowing that somehow builds up to align with a real and unexpected sound not yet present while sleeping. In those cases, some people make the mistake of assuming the sound may have caused the dream’s outcome. However, in some cases, the dream was already seemingly building up to the not yet occurring sound (again, unlike in the case of this entry where my dream was unexpectedly “destroyed” by the intrusive sound) - thus a form of obvious real-time precognition in the other dream type I have never read about elsewhere. I have experienced it myself fairly often.

Morning of September 11, 1983. Sunday.



This is one of several very vivid (but non-lucid) dreams that seemed to reflect aspects of foreshadowing regarding 9-11. Dreams of this type (including one similar to this one) seemed to start in 1977, where the main patterns of a more precise nature regarding my future wife (especially regarding her “conquering” of Susan R, the “other”) were already in play, so to speak.

My dream starts out where I am in a large wheat field. I seem to be in a fairly good mood and am feeling relaxed. However, there is a sense of impending disaster for some reason. Looking back towards the horizon (I am not sure of directional orientation - if I went by my Cubitis bedroom and in-dream focus, it would be mostly to the northeast), I see a low-flying airplane. There are two skyscrapers in the distance (but no other more discernible buildings or landmarks). The airplane is heading directly for one of the skyscrapers, the one on my right. Knowing it will probably crash (seemingly on purpose) and even though it is not that close to where I am, I start running west.

As I run west, I seem to feel myself either shrinking or at least changing in perspective in a very bizarre way. I suddenly seem to be running through some sort of metallic tunnel which is like an awareness of running inside of a “giant computer” with various printed circuits on floor, walls, and ceiling. Behind me is an approaching energy that I know will destroy me and anyone else in the world or at least in the region. It makes a sort of sizzling sound as it gets closer and closer to me. In the distance, at the end of this “hall”, I see a forest and hope I will reach it.

I perceive a phrase somewhat dramatically, “That’s it, that’s all, it’s everything gone!” almost like a line from poetry. I awake at this time as the sizzling gets louder behind me and I feel an intense heat. I have a sense that this giant hall has something to do with people communicating by computer on a global scale, but that the airplane has triggered the end of all the circuits or some such through an increasingly destructive explosion. This was a typical composite precognitive event. It was quite some time until I was actually “inside” computers relative to being able to easily manipulate machine language code (through a self-learning process and realizing it was all mostly “conditional jumps” and little else) until I went on to something else, as I then took on the perspective that computer technology was at least half-myth and most of what programmers claimed was false, which of course is as with pretty much everything else.

This dream appears to have a legitimate and typical precognitive marker. Even though the airplane crashing into the skyscraper (tower) is the waking component in this case, it is also a September 11th dream and has other legitimate associations with terror such as when I cry out “That’s it, that’s all, it’s everything gone!” This causes me to ponder what is really going on in other levels of collective consciousness over any given longer time period. While it is true that the skyscraper as the tower here is my emergent consciousness and the airplane the projection of my dream self in being “stopped” during the waking transition, there is more to it, primarily literal. I run through the tunnel which is also the waking conduit (more accessible here than the tower), even more so as it looks like a circuit-board on all four sides (two walls, ceiling, and floor), the circuit-board being a model of the human brain, here upsized as my dream self seems downsized, almost shrunken.

Morning of April 17, 1983. Sunday.



In the past I have stated that a snake may sometimes relate to associations with the human intestine in dreams (because of their shape and the fact that they coil). A few times, this connection has even been proven - for example, the “Fer-de-Lance (Reprise)” dream.

Here is another example. I went to sleep with somewhat of a stomach ache. I am in an unknown coastal city, but which has features of my old primary school in Florida. There is a large ancient-looking water fountain near one esplanade area. There are several unknown people walking around.

Just under the water’s surface, I notice large snakes sort of moving through the water more like fish. Over time, they take on the characteristics of human waste but are still snakes. There is a vague uneasiness as if one should not go near the fountain even though I sense that the snakes are not able to leave the water.

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It could not be more obvious that in this particular case, snakes represent human waste (especially as they had the appearance as such). What I am looking at in this dream is an upsized toilet. My stomachache was not even needed for confirmation in this case.

Morning of March 31, 1983. Thursday.



It seems to be very early morning in my dream; before sunrise. I am in an unusual composite location of a “compressed” (whereby an implied larger environment somehow fits into a much smaller one) and seemingly isolated cornfield and my sister’s backyard at Loomis Street. There seems to be the presence of a nuclear explosion (from the eastern horizon) in the distance and the sky grows red. There is eventually a strong wind. All I am mostly aware of at the main vivid point is the wind blowing against the scarecrow as if that were the last aspect of the human race that remained. The wind makes an almost human-like sound, but like a soft though eerie chorus.

As I had learned after this (and the “clue” it seems to contain regarding the dreamer as a scarecrow, that is, non-lucid) atomic bombs and nuclear explosions in dreams are mostly little more than a metaphor for the waking process itself. This was validated later on when, when I was nearing lucidity, had the ability to “freeze” the mushroom cloud and thus bring about apex lucidity by stopping the waking process, and thereby my dream was extended dramatically (including increasing in vividness).

In contrast to an atomic bomb ending the dream (or causing it to change in cohesiveness) and the potential for lucidity (again, unless stopped or “frozen”), a tornado can pull one in (as the Merkaba) into deeper lucidity. As often reflected on before, my childhood tornado dream (beginning of autumn 1970) represented, on one level, the merging of dreams and reality, with my joining (presumed counteracting or harmonizing - both now seem plausible) of the opposite whirling forces of the tornado and hexagonal merry-go-round - also a metaphor for activating a Merkaba akin to meeting one’s soulmate as well.

In this case, the scarecrow as dreamer also adds to the atomic bomb representing the waking process in the dreamer now being a scarecrow with no potential to move back into the dream state. (It is fairly obvious like most dreams of this type and level of consciousness.)

Morning of February 9, 1983. Wednesday.



It is up to the individual dreamer to “decode” every precise clue that either the Universal Mind or Merkaba vehicle (experienced when awake as a blue flash in the left eye) gives them based on layering everything he or she sees into personal mythology to eventually “live the dream” so to speak, with one’s partner, together as Yin and Yang incarnate rather than just personal ascension (of which needs to come before the twin soul union). Everything in existence must be used correctly and confirmed, with no room for doubt or “interference” from the unenlightened or uniformed. In my case, I did not know it would all turn out so literal, almost like a grand comedy. (For example, even my wife’s step father’s name is “Davy Jones”, the “real” mermaid’s father. Hilarious.)

This dream transition (the Eurythmics songs being the catalyst) started in February 9th of 1983 (what I would call the “prototype” or “birth” of this dream scenario), February 9th also being the date I came to Australia (in 1994, exactly eleven years later). Although my real “mystery girl’s” name was “known” as either Savannah or variations of Susannah when very young, the name Jennifer in this case stands for the shape-shifter or mermaid form. In fact, “Jennie Haniver” actually is a faux mermaid created from skeletal sea life remains. (One of our youngest daughter’s middle names is Revinah, which is “Haniver” in reverse; a bit of trivia for relentless clue-seekers.)

Most versions of this dream (both in their lucid and non-lucid forms) were quite epic and would be too long to address the variations in one entry. It also seemed to be a direct continuation of my “Reptilian Girl” dream (from February 9th, 1977 - once again the same date but years apart) which even correctly rendered the scar on my wife-to-be’s wrist in real life before I met her; hers is the same distance from the bottom of the palm as mine and amusingly seems like the “continuation” of my own larger scar (near-fatal accident from age two) when our arms are held together.

Mostly, the scenario is based on the statue at the La Crosse public library coming to life and assuming the form of my wife-to-be (whom I first made real contact with in March of 1991). This bronze statue (known as “Reflections III”, which was also the name of a novel my wife-to-be had been working on, including being the third written form) is described as follows: “This piece was donated in 1979 by Dr. Adolph Gundersen. It depicts a young woman resting on top of a carved base which was designed as an integral part of the sculpture. The figure and the base create ‘complementary negative images and contradicting planes’ in the words of the artist. The title is intentionally ambiguous, referring to reflections of the figure in the base, reflections in the pool of water before it, and the intellectual process of reflecting upon an idea.”

My “mystery girl” and I are intimate (and most of my dream scenes take place at night, where she eventually becomes the “Reflections III” statue “again” before dawn). At times, “normal” people seem to be aware or come to learn of her existence (though there are those who deny her existence, as with Jennie in “The Bermuda Depths”, much to their later misfortune). At one point, she becomes a shark and devours people who are pursuing me. At another point, she becomes a black panther (related to my own becoming a black panther in dreams of the night of April 9, 1982 into the next morning, but of an unusual “reshaping” in which in my dream, I become a black panther and catch and eat a rabbit, though in this dream, she is a black panther and actually transforms into a rabbit as she is running, all this inspired directly from a scene from “Cat People” seen on the night of April 9, 1982, the same date I was married in 1994).

In the last part of my dream, after she becomes a rabbit, she jumps into the water becoming a dolphin. I see her leap in the distance as the sky grows darker. (This is likely an influence from “The Incredible Mr. Limpet”, although Don Knotts becomes a fish, not a dolphin, as wrongly written in some plot descriptions by people who obviously did not really know the movie.)

There is an ominous scene where the statue is gone. People go out to “hunt” her, but I know they will never find her. It is my intention to “go to the other side of the ocean” to find her.

This goes all the way back to 1965 from my dream “The Thinker” and later “breakthrough” dreams (such as “Sentient Flood” from 1990) where “living statues” seem to relate to an “awakening” of something important to the dreamer’s real-life path. It may be a major archetype for others as well, though I cannot be sure since I can only “see” my own experiences.

After these dreams, I had a strange feeling I would be meeting her in real life (even marrying her), which of course…I did, in 1994.

Relevant influences and tie-ins:

“The Incredible Mr. Limpet”; 1964 Don Knotts movie

“It”; 1966 Roddy McDowall movie (secondary influence)

“The Bermuda Depths”; 1978 television movie (main influence)

“Portrait of Jennie”; 1948 movie

“Jennifer”; Eurythmics song from 1983 as here, which directly followed “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)” (catalyst transition)

“Ocean Girl”; David Essex song

Morning of January 8, 1983. Saturday.



I am in a mostly unfamiliar area seemingly in La Crosse. I may be near the place called Bonanza (which is a restaurant, I believe) where people fish. Over time, there is threat of a flash flood. A lot of people are struck and carried away by the rushing water and I end up hanging onto some sort of wooden debris (part of a house, I assume), quickly floating directly north. I suddenly notice a large, healthy, silvery fish next to me as if it was just tossed from the water somehow, or more like riding the waves at the same pace I am, remaining uninjured. It seems somewhat important, like a significant event for me. I am not sure what species it is; it may be a large herring. I feel a sense of vividness at that point, the most vivid part of my dream. It seems almost mystical. I have found that other people have had very similar dreams, one mentioned in a lecture about it relating to the gift of abundance.

Night of December 17, 1982. Friday.



This is an old dream from mid-December 1982, which, for some incomprehensible reason, popped clearly into my head last night, practically from “out of nowhere”, so I thought I would look it over. It mostly involves only myself and my brother-in-law Bob as characters.

We are to enter a store after hours. It is a larger store that exists in real life on the north-side of La Crosse. For some reason, we have to steal Christmas ornaments from inside the store (mostly near the checkout aisles to the north end it seems) and a few Christmas trees from a fenced-in area outside on the south end - it seems to have to do with “rescuing” or recovering alien surveillance devices or some such to get them back to the orbiting spacecraft. I have no idea how we are to get so much at once, but there may be a trailer involved (my brother-in-law has his station wagon there on the west end in the parking lot). I mostly remain in the store on my own. I see televisions on in the store and there are the scenes of the weird vegetable-puppet-looking creature from “Cold Hands, Warm Heart” - an episode of “The Outer Limits”. There is no danger, just a vague focus on a “mission” of sorts. The dream does not seem to have a resolution or even an ending, just me wandering around and trying to work out which ornaments are “alien” and which are not. I seem to be getting some sort of subtle help or at least clues from the vegetable creature that just sort of waves her/its arms around on the television screens or closed-circuit monitors. No one else shows up even though the lights are all on, so I guess there is no alarm or we (or the aliens) had deactivated it.

I do remember also, a scene of snow and cold and riding in the car while Bob drives, and feeling pretty good about the “theft” or “rescue” or whatever was going on.

Morning of November 17, 1982. Wednesday. (Extensively clarified for inexperienced dream journalists on Sunday, 17 September 2017.)



It seems to be early afternoon throughout most of this dream. My dream starts out in the apartment above my sister Marilyn’s house on Loomis Street, which seems vacant at the time, though there are a few items around including minimal furniture. The steps are unusual, but are similar to other dreams with this distortion. They go around the sides of the living room to no particular location and have no railing.

Eventually, a large and seemingly menacing polar bear makes an appearance but does not chase me at any point. I realize that the polar bear may have eaten the previous occupant of the apartment, but later, I am also thinking that this tenant (Colleen) may have gotten away but left some of her things behind (due to the presence of the bear). There is a distortion when her apartment seems to be upside-down, yet without furniture and other items falling from the implied ceiling. There is a scene where I am on the unlikely stairs and looking down at the creature though I seem incorporeal at one point.

Later, in the last part of my dream, I am downstairs in my sister’s living room and there is a knock on the door which is presumed to be the mailman with a package. Instead, it turns out to be the polar bear. It is standing upright on two legs (and at least a foot taller than me). It does not attempt to attack me, though I wake almost immediately. There is a sense of surprise and awe, but it is not nightmarish.

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This dreams ends with non-lucid doorway waking symbolism. This type of dream outcome is sometimes triggered by the reticular activating system when environmental noise is present and based on the implied need to wake up and answer the door (which does not mean that the environmental noise is an actual door knock as the mind is unconscious and does not correctly perceive the real environment).

Dreams are experienced in real time and mainly symbolize mental processes and changes in REM semi-consciousness or neural patterns. Therefore, a staircase usually metaphorically signifies changes in levels of awareness while sleeping (just as it is deliberately used as such in some forms of meditation and hypnosis). In this case, using a staircase put me into a more vivid offset dream, which is typical. (I use a staircase in some dreams to augment lucidity.)

The polar bear becoming the preconscious to emergent consciousness factor in this case may be coincidentally based on the possible shift to doorway waking symbolism as a result of environmental noise, only if not assuming the earlier segment to be a precursor to it. The assumption that the door knock was possibly a mailman validates the reticular activating system prompt, as a mailman otherwise often relates to incrementing communication between dream self and conscious self (that is, the true conscious self identity trying to reach the otherwise muddled personified subconscious aka dream self).

If there is any waking life relevance here, it may relate to a wish to see myself as stronger or more adaptable to the cold weather (as I had moved from Florida to Wisconsin during the summer of 1978). However, there also seems to be a less-detailed thread of prescience. I told my sister about this dream. Later this day, she said “There’s your snow bear”. It was a television commercial we had never seen previously with the scene of a polar bear running across a featureless ice floe. (However, during one time period, I also regularly saw a real stuffed polar bear in a commercial window display while walking through an area in La Crosse.)

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Morning of November 17, 1982. Wednesday.



In the last clearer segment of a non-lucid dream that otherwise relates to indiscernible activity in the living room and dining room (as I am in the northeast bedroom of the Loomis Street house in my dream and implied to have been sleeping), doorway waking symbolism seems to be part of the transition, at least by potential. However, this changes to physical hypnopompia. (The prior dream however, “Snow Bear”, did resolve with doorway waking symbolism, but apparently for different reasons.)

An unseen toy train is perceived as bumping against the door to the room I am “sleeping” in, from the other side (living room). There is also an additional buzzing and clicking at times, presumably made by this toy train. (In reality however, there was no door to this room, only a set of curtains. My non-lucid dreams rarely render real-life environments with viable correctness and no two detailed environments are ever the same.) This door is “remembered” to open outward into the living room from the left (again, a false memory as there is no door in reality), though I never open it during my dream.

I get the ridiculous illogical impression that the toy train “wants” to enter the room. I consider that toy railroad tracks might not need to be present, though I still eventually rise up from my bed to briefly check around the room, though I do not see any.

I am eventually surprised and alarmed by the toy train moving towards my head on the left side of my bed. It creates the surreal impression of being alive and now as a large and possibly threatening undulating caterpillar (though unseen and under the bed sheet), though it may just be seeking comfort. Physical hypnopompia results in attempting to move my arm to block it, my arm being slightly numb from lying on it.

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When other forms of waking symbolism do not work, physical hypnopompia always does (and in the case of a numb arm, sometimes associated with a snake as the RAS waking prompt). In this case, the toy railroad tracks are apparently analogous to blood circulation, the closed door relating to blocked circulation (especially as both doorknob and arm are relevant to the left side). The prior dream related to answering the door (“Snow Bear”) is apparently a coincidence (especially as perceiving door knocking is a main alert factor of waking life, so naturally the reticular activating system would biologically implement it as such), as the implications are completely different (environmental noise as possible real knocking in contrast to blocked circulation while sleeping).

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Morning of October 9, 1982. Saturday.



I am back in my Cubitis bedroom and I become lucid from an unknown cause (and I eventually shift into apex lucidity) but with a cautious awareness. For a time, I indulge in a lot of different scenes involving several different girls, who, for the most part, otherwise walk around enjoying themselves. I also enjoy developing various geometrical shapes in seemingly new combinations.

At one point, I fall into focusing on various connecting planes at different angles (for example, a couch, relative to the front at ninety degrees from the seat and how the arms are structured, the three-dimensional surfaces and angles enhancing my interest in dream structures). I also deliberately gaze into the eyes of one unknown female to see if I can see something special, yet all I see are the sort of lightning-like patterns (and sometimes cilia-like forms) that make up the irises and the “oil” which makes up the pupils. Still, I see myself in the pupil, which is mirror-like, the act being similar to looking into a Christmas tree ornament.

Over time, there are unusual physical effects. It seems as if I have been performing (sexually) for days. In the last segment (as I am thinking of what to do with my dream state and heightened clarity), I notice a dream character that seems to be lurking behind a doorway, but only his arms and hands are in view at first. I see that he is holding and pointing a pistol (though not at me at first as it almost seems that he plans on hiding a little longer). At this point, he is the only dream character other than myself.

“Come outta there!” I yell as a command.

“You’re under arrest!” the unfamiliar man addresses me cautiously.

Believing that I have no use for authority in my own dream, I do a hand motion and make him point the gun to his head but he struggles (and I have to increase my own will over the scene almost as if he has his own will power), saying “No, no, wait, I have something important to tell you!” Just as I am about to eliminate him (or feel that I could), I change my mind. Instead, I pause and decide to listen, because he almost seems a part of me. I get the impression that he is the last policeman to exist in “this world”.

I stand near the center of the living room, facing west (towards my bedroom doorway). He faces me, though a bit to my left. He lowers his gun and starts talking to me about my father (who had died on Valentine’s Day in 1979). (On one level, I seem to be aware of what he is going to say as if there is some sort of “automatic agreement”.) I realize that there had been guilt at not having performed in public with my father (or even being in the audience) at his last music venue. This seems somewhat profound, especially as the last words I ever heard him say (prior to his leaving to perform at the venue) “I sure wish you’d come with me”. Not feeling the connection to people or the interest to entertain or please them (aside from feeling out of place and uneasy in front of people at times), I did not have enough willpower to go. That was his last concert and in the middle, the very last words he said (to his audience), “looks like you’re going to have to play the jukebox from now on”.

From here, the policeman now seems sort of scruffy. He also now appears to be only about half my height. Still, he seems more relaxed with me. As he is looking down at the floor, he says “It’s time for a new movie”, what I take to mean a release of any and all guilt related to my father and how I was not with him in his last conscious moments, as he had in his own subtle way hinted at before leaving the house.

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This lucid dream had likely gone on a bit too long (as biologically, a dreamer must eventually wake). The personified preconscious is eventually rendered (via the emergent consciousness) and “arrests” me, though there is still some unusual trailing conversation. One of the meanings of “It’s time for a new movie” could actually mean that it is time to wake to dream again at a later date, though it may also relate to not replaying the reality-based “mental movie” of guilt concerning my father.

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Morning of October 4, 1982. Monday.



I am seemingly traveling on my own, heading south to an uncertain destination. There are a lot of isolated areas with a lot of shrubs, mostly. There are some back roads I follow here and there. Vaguely, I am trying to remember if I should be getting to work and what day it is.

I discover an unusual farmhouse behind a cluster of higher shrubs. It looks abandoned. Just south of that are a few more houses, but more modern-looking. They still seem a bit unmaintained in some ways or perhaps not yet completed. A man of about forty is on a smaller tractor mower in the backyard of one larger property. I ignore him at first.

I investigate the farmhouse, going inside through a door hanging from one hinge at an angle. There are also piles of wood blocking some other areas. There is sort of a damp smell and a desolate mood at first. Not much happens. I look around and notice that the decor is fairly unusual, but I am not sure why.

Finally, I go into a room that has a book on a desk but the paper is unusual, somewhat felt-like, and the ink is a bit fuzzy. There is an old photograph of a beautiful girl that lived in the house (late 1940s?) before it was abandoned due to a “natural disaster”. Looking around, it is possible that the disaster was a flood, as some features seem to relate to water somehow, as perhaps reminiscent of something you would see on an old ship. There is some sort of lantern or old-fashioned kerosene lamp but it has a different design somehow.

Looking at the book, which seems to be a diary, I discover, through images and seemingly discerning some of the writing, that the girl had a pet otter that she really cared for. I do not think that she had it in a cage. I sense a strange sadness at the idea of someone leaving their home after a seeming longer history in the region and wonder what had happened to them.

Later, a couple other people are in their yard. One may be the man I saw on the lawn mower. He tells me that the whole area had been under water until fairly recently. He mentions that the farmhouse was there long before the new houses were built south of it.

It dawns on me that the girl and her parents were some sort of aquatic human-like creatures (but mostly human in appearance) and that the “natural disaster” was not a flood, but the waters receding so that they had to leave their home to go to a river or lake somewhere to get away from land-dwelling humans, especially. Thus it turns out that this was one of those intriguing endings (and a very similar mood and awareness) that seemed to have intense sarcasm for “every man” along similar lines as “I’m Eager Beaver” and “The Four-Fanged Snake of Swamp Garden”, two of which I have already posted.

Morning of September 11, 1982. Saturday.



Dream Series: The Experience of Prescience, the Inexplicable Dream State Phenomenon. Part 7

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I seem to be living in the future though I am unsure of what the implied date is. At any rate, it seems to be (at least at first) an odd combination of the television series “Hogan’s Heroes” and George Orwell’s “1984” (as well as influence from “Logan’s Run”). There is a large room full of computers (reminiscent of NASA) where everyone is watched. It seems sad and strange that public surveillance is everywhere. Still, there is a focus on the question of who is watching the people who are watching everyone else. The group in control of the world government is called “The Delegates”. They mostly drive around in black jeeps and black limousines. The unfamiliar town in my dream is called something like Maryborough or Marlborough.

I become aware of my “mystery girl” (precognitive wife-to-be character) over time. Photographs are somehow made by computers. However, it is illegal to keep photographs older than a certain date. There are barbed wire fences throughout “ordinary” neighborhoods. I want to be with my dream girl, but it seems we may have to find a region beyond the reach of these “Future Delegates” (the term being used in my dream relating to younger politicians who are training to control large groups of people). I discover photographs in a drawer of features of the past that the government does not want people to know about. Some of it seems Biblical. At this point I seem to be in a movie. Werner Klemperer (an actor from “Hogan’s Heroes”) seems to be in charge of looking for my “mystery girl” and me near a beach. A number of black vehicles are in the area.

In the last segment, I am somehow standing atop an airplane (without any fear of falling) while hugging my “mystery girl”. In the distance is Manhattan. A tower of the World Trade Center is burning. It seems like “the sky is falling”. I perceive, on some levels that it may be the end of the world. However, I still think it may be possible to reach a livable region where government does not exist.

In the end, we jump into the ocean, still hugging.

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• Zsuzsanna was a fan of “Hogan’s Heroes” before we met though she did not know one of the stars (Bob Crane) had been murdered. (For some reason, I had a precognitive dream of Bob Crane’s death, which had similar dynamics as this dream).
• This dream had some influences from “Logan’s Run”. The precognitive dream about Bob Crane, I “cleverly” gave the title “Hogan’s Run” (before his death).
• When I went into a library for the first time with Zsuzsanna, in Maryborough, I saw the same edition of a book (right on the top of a stack of books on a cluttered table) called “Space Opera”. This had the story “Tonight the Sky Will Fall”, first seen on September 11th, 1966 (about a week after starting school for the first time in La Crosse). My father and brother-in-law used to get various books from a nearby landfill. This included science-fiction digests, “Outdoor Life” magazines, and adult cartoon digests, all of which my reading skills increased through. With “Space Opera”, I had “Friday the Thirteenth”. This included a story about a girl riding a white horse (and who had special abilities relating to telepathy and remote viewing). Zsuzsanna was born on Friday the Thirteenth and was photographed atop a large white horse as a child around the same time as another related dream.
• There is a redhead in “Tonight the Sky Will Fall” named Leila. Zsuzsanna has a red-haired half-sister named Lelia. A main factor of the story is that his dream girl turns out to be real and that his dreaming brought the universe into existence.
• The level of surveillance and items like webcams, I never thought could reach the level it was in my dream, yet it has gone eerily beyond that which was featured in my dream. Still surveillance as such supposedly lowers crime in at least some areas. This is probably more related to connecting to the collective unconscious than solely personal insight.

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