All DJ Entries

August 20 3am-10am
Old home, talking with a guy who is trying to catch a bunch of thieves. The poor guy, who had some sort of white armour on and a short dark brown hair cut ruffled off to the side as though he just woke up, had been working at trying to catch these people for a while. The story he said was that the come out to thieve at night and then a dawn they manage to rush into this forested area and just disappear. It seemed to stump him how they could just be gone that fast, it amazed me that he only had around two people guarding the forest stretch that lead up a mountain. Anyway, I manage to slip past him and head into the forest where I saw an owl flying toward; after a brief bout of walking around aimlessly, I get a feeling that they are shapeshifters that turn into owls to hide in the woods. After this unique thought I see a brief owl and return home. At home I eat with my mom and the guy trying to catch the thieves, but something happens and I run outside into the night. Run toward the forest and as I jump up to fly, I do fly but slowly and with my arms flapping as wings. He chases after me and I fly up more until I turn into an owl and fly around in circles. Then as I glide around his attempts to catch me, I finally swoop down low and head to the forest. Once safe in the trees I understood now what the thieves did. They stole and then changed into owls to fly into the forest, only active at night so it wouldn't be seen as suspicious and only going out a few at a time. After realizing this I flew down to see the guard noticing a house, which I also thought odd. But it was a small one, a hut at best. He went inside and I gently nudged the door closed before flying off to my home.

　Back at my old home? at night and getting ready for bed with a little dwarf friend. It's a single bed with light sheets but a dark blanket and at the bedside that's near the wall, sits a crib with a fake baby tucked into the white sheets. I mention somethibg about not having a baby but the fake one would do just as well, my emotions or rather expressions of emotioms are more akin to a child and my friend seems not to notice or maybe it's a welcoming relief for him to see me in such a carefree mood; because mostly in waking life, I'm just fine and really nothing more. After my friend leaves I pick up a small book and read a story about The Goblin King, in this story it is referenced that he uses fangs and I quickly shut the book as I verbally deny he's a vampire or even related to that. With that out of the way, I get settled into bed more and lay on my left side to face the crib; there is also a window above the crib that gives a view of my old home, my room, window view.
　Out side of old home, just basking in the sunlight, I then gain a bit of control over my actions and jump up to fly. I flap my arms for wings and lift off the ground slowly as usual, then I realize I'm dreaming and I decide I want to reach the sky faster so I change to a superman style. This doesn't really go that past but it was fun to try, I end up on a roof.

For as long as I can remember I have been dealing with abuse from my father and his girlfriend, I left home about a month ago because I was feeling extremely depressed and Sucidel , since I've left the transition has not been easy I go some days without sleeping, sometimes I don't even going out in fear of seeing them , the first two weeks away I had a dream that my father was chasing me down with a gun, that's all I remember and I woke up out my sleep crying and scared and than today I stayed up until six AM and woke up at seven because of another nightmare simular to the one I had before except this in it was him and two other people he is associated with , basically everyone was trying to stab me it sounds crazy but it is what it is , I woke up crying again .

Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday.



In my dream, there is an unfamiliar library I go to, which takes the place of where the King Cinema had been in real life. I am also living at the King Street mansion (boarding house) not as I was years ago in reality, but with my family as we appear now.

My dream starts with me leaving the apartment. I walk westerly down King Street. The library is only a few blocks away. I am carrying, in a backpack, a computer keyboard, a flat monitor, and two small unknown devices (each about the size of an iPhone but thicker and one with a curved bottom) related to computer technology which apparently store data and may be additionally used for other purposes.

In the library, I delete a list of URLs, one at a time, from one device for the purpose of clearing memory. I sit at a small table near the left end of one row of shelves. I do not question why the computer keyboard and monitor are all I have (with the two other small devices) to apparently do some work on my computer.

Water begins to drip from various areas of the library’s ceiling. I become annoyed, because one of the devices I am looking at goes blank and the screen is apparently ruined by water. An unfamiliar young female librarian assures me that it will work normally again when it dries. She pushes against me a bit from behind and I am slightly annoyed by this, as it makes it more difficult to type freely.

It starts to rain more and more inside the library. I tell them that buildings in Australia sure leak a lot, adding how where my family lives now has leaks, a few near the foot of our bed. I compare them to the houses I lived in in America. This is very flawed dream-self memory as usual, as the setting is implied to be in America. Somehow, even though I perceive that I “still” live in America on King Street, I am also seemingly aware of where we live now (in referring to the leaks in our present home). There is no way to consciously resolve this distortion, as, when I leave the library near the end of my dream, I am walking easterly back towards the King Street mansion (in America) in the rain, yet with the feeling I am in Australia. There is no aspect of bilocation of the two buildings, so it is just some sort of oddly skewed parallel thinking that only the dream self can maintain.

I decide to move to another location and sit down on the floor in an informal meditation position. It is closer to one corner near the main entrance. There is a male to my right who reminds me of classmate Bill W. All three of my devices with screens eventually become ruined. Bill talks to me a bit about some sort of research. Several other people are around, a few even reading books in the indoor rain.

I rub the surface of one of the devices. The screen is more like transparent glass by this point. Inside the device, which seems somewhat hollow, I see pieces of leaves and a few small stones and sand that I consider somehow got inside over the past few minutes. I am annoyed that I will apparently have to buy new computer devices.

I realize that, even though I am wearing a long-sleeved sweater (which goes down a bit below my waist), I do not have any pants on. I also have no shoes and am only wearing dark socks. The fact I do not have shoes annoys me more than not having any pants on, since I do not like the idea of walking on a cold wet granular sidewalk with only socks on. I ask Bill if I had come into the library with shoes on, though he seems not to know, and I am uncertain if I did.

Eventually, I leave the library to go home. I am firstly walking, then I start running in an exaggerated manner. My “running” becomes stranger, similar to the movement of The Spirit in the 2008 movie when he runs on the telephone wires. (We saw this movie just prior to my dream.) It feels like I am kicking sand out from the back of my feet as I am oddly moving along. Eventually, I reach the King Street boarding house, and there are some more dream elements, though which become abstract.

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Raining indoors is a sort of forced symbolism based on the dream state itself, biologically related to a process that occurs during sleep (which I have described more fully in other entries). The library represents potential for conscious self awareness (and critical thinking skills), but the circadian rhythms factor holds my dream in the deeper phase. Being undressed in public, which is a subliminal dream-state indicator (as I do not wear clothes when sleeping) has rarely bothered me. (In fact, I am more embarrassed in some dreams when wearing clothes, as in real life, I do not like to be seen as wearing clothes in bed.) It is no coincidence that I am often undressed in public in a library, as these are two common dream-state indicators (dream signs) for me, especially as in sensual lucid dreams, when I deliberately initiate this situation. (This is additionally validated by the library being where the movie theater was in real life, a movie theater otherwise symbolizing subliminal acknowledgement of the dream state.) The association with “The Spirit” movie, where he runs on telephone wires, even though I am on the sidewalk in my dream, is based on increasing neural energy and communication between different layers of consciousness during the waking transition.

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Morning of August 20, 2017. Sunday.



I am in the middle room on the east side of the King Street mansion (where I have not been in real life in over twenty years). It is not known if I am living there though, as there is an unknown male in the bed, which is out from the east wall. It seems to be late at night.

I am aware of a supposed haunting, but there is no concern or fear of any kind. In fact, I make sarcastic remarks to the unseen ghost and screech several times. After time passes, the unseen ghost screeches louder than me. The unknown male and I are somewhat amused.

Still, I am trying to get the ghost to show itself. The room has a fictional feature. There is a closet to the left of the door, but this feature would not be possible in real life as there is a hall directly behind that wall. At one point, the landlady looks in to see what is going on.

There are two small wooden shelves near the top of the closet. The ghost seems to be on the top shelf. I see signs of it a few times, but just a little.

Two unknown girls come into the room. One reminds me of Linda Cardellini as Velma from 2002’s “Scooby-Doo” and the other, Annie Potts as Janine Melnitz from 1984’s “Ghostbusters”. Both are to my left, Linda being closer.

I tell them to watch as I bring the ghost out from hiding by commanding it to appear. On the left of the upper closet shelf, a small circle of white material appears. Time passes, and the “ghost” emerges. It looks like a series of small balls covered with a handkerchief as it moves down to the bottom shelf and moves to the right somewhat like a caterpillar in a sort of undulating motion.

Linda makes a comment about it possibly being a “flaw in the film” as if we were watching a movie instead of a real feature in the room. My dream fades from this point.

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Zsuzsanna and I watched “Ghosts of Darkness” (2017) last night, where a main scene involved two men watching a door to a closet and attempting to expel a large demon from an old mansion. This enjoyable comedic dream is all that resulted. There have been a number of other dreams where dream characters talked about dreams or features or events in a dream as if they were movies. I find this very interesting, as it may be a thread of my conscious self expressing this major sentiment about dreams through another dream character, especially as it is usually said near the end of a dream. A movie theater or stage has also been a subliminal dream-state indicator in a number of my dreams.

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1am-8:11am
Somewhere near current home forest, two guys and mom and dave. They had guns, I took one and shot it. They were like ha that went far and then they didn't like it, so I ran behind mom and she moved and I ran behind D but he moved. I ran back to the house and went upstairs to sit on my bed, C was on his computer when I passed him. I kept saving somehow on my phone and more than once I was close to being shot at, nobody seemed to be defending me as usual. So finally after reloading and trying to shrug it off, I realized they wanted me dead. This time I told D to tell them I'd kill myself, this seemed acceptable and they tossed a gun up to me and left. I was scared and wanted nothing more than to run away, but I decided this was what they wanted. But after actually trying once more to shoot it, by aiming at on of them when he had his back turned. I found that it wasn't loaded and they knew it. The other guy tried aiming at me with a rifle and I backed up, I was afraid. As I said I just had to message my best friend first to say hi and then bye, I found that I could only get on youtube. A first person video showed some sweets and I longingly reached for what I'd miss, as I did I understood I wasn't afraid of dying but rather losing my memories. Strangely though as my finger touched the screen, they touched the sweets and almost tipped the small dish into my world through the phone. I grabbed one and was so amazed that this was happening, I opened a bag of what was supposed to be chips and found a toy frog, and two toy geckos. I lifted the frog out of the bag and it came alive, I was so amazed that I had C come over here to look. He was less amazed but still realised how cool it was, then I put it back in the bag and it turned fake again. I did it with the geckos but they never turned back and I had to roll up the bag. This newfound power sparked something in me though, I figured if I could do this then I could go through the screen to the other side. So I called out my idea to the guys wanting to kill me and they seemed to figure it was alright. I said I'd be an entirely new person, but what I actually was thinking of was living with my best friend. So then I had to message her and get a picture, she had already sent one of three girls and a setting. I knew I just needed the setting, so I then saw she linked a photo of her in youtube comments but I couldn't see it. I didn't even know if it would work but I knew I had to set some rules straight, first of all I told my brother my phone had to be unused after my departure and actually that you should give it mom and let her destroy it with a hammer. One of the guys came in and asked if that was really necessary, greedy fuck, he wanted to keep the phone. But I insisted, saying it was like a way of trapping the soul and I guess I didn't want to walk back out again somehow. So then he gets up here and starts sifting through my stuff, looking at stuff in my drawing notebooks. I want to say I stopped drawing cause I wasn't very good at it, but at glance to the drawings and I decided that was bullshit. I saw drawings I'd never done before in real life and at that moment I only slightly noticed it. So the dream ends with me waiting on a message from my best friend and feeling glad I'll be able to be nearer to her.

DREAM DETAILS:
　At the start, mom is making popcorn in a dim kitchen and it's very early morning. She has candy as well and we're going to watch a movie, but we never get to start it because outside catches our attention and we come across he men in the forest nearby.
　The men wore dark clothes that complimented their short dark hair and broad shoulders. All three were male and tall, though only two came after me.
　The first person view for the youtube video with sweets had the view of a woman sitting down, she was light skinned and crossing one leg over the other. By the look of her her legs she seemed thin but her thighs looked big under her pencil skirt. She wore heels and the room around her looked like a child inhabited it, pink walls and lush fluffy rugs. Shelves around the middle of the wall and all around the room filled with toys, panning to the right, I see a lady leaning down to look at the viewer and then we look down and see the candies looking like red drops, in a glass dish on a table to our right.
　In the youtube comments, my best friend says "look at a picture of me an sax". I wrongly interpreted it for a minute and then saw the the border above her comment which should have contained an image did not have anything except a slightly grey fuzziness like a tv.

Okay, last night has some hazy memories. I've also had a decent amount of dream recall throughout the week, and wrote it in my paper journal but forgot to get my notes on here. Right now, due to time constraints, I'm just going to write last night's.

Dream Fragment 1: I'm sitting next to Rihanna inside of a room, and Wild Thoughts is playing in the background. I talk to her, but I don't remember what about.

Dream 2: My brother and I are traveling back from some event late at night. We are walking in the wilderness with a little bit of civilization around us -- like the occasional building or large home here and there. Eventually, we come to a road, and we see the headlights of a car. I cross quickly, but my brother doesn't chance it. For some reason, I run back to him just before the car whizzes by. Then, after the car passes, we cross and see my uncle. There are boulders, plants, and a river. A pretty lady in a blue dress (I think? or blouse?) is running away from him. No idea why. She was scared of him for some reason.

Hallucination: Despite not being sleep paralyzed, a few seconds after awakening this morning, I was sitting in bed and it was still kinda dark. I saw a shadowy figure. She looked female with a plain red and white dress, but I couldn't tell for sure. I practically jumped out of my skin until I realized it was just a hallucination since I had just woken up. Still weird though because I wasn't paralyzed at all. Then she vanished. In retrospect, it was really cool!

IRL, school starts up again in a few weeks. This is going to be an intense semester as usual. Nonetheless, I'm going to try and get enough sleep and dream as much as I can.

Morning of August 19, 2017. Saturday.



I am in an ambiguous new composite setting (as all dream settings are one-of-a-kind since early childhood), which seems to align the front (northernmost) room where I use my computer (at our present address) with the Cubitis southwest bedroom (so that the main north windows from our present address are directly associated with the Cubitis southwest bedroom’s south windows, though also present are that bedroom’s west windows as defined easterly, which otherwise have no association with our present address). It does not have the usual essence of bilocation, only an unusual atypical blended association and awareness.

There are threads of liminal dream state awareness but no active lucidity from my dream self’s viewpoint. Zsuzsanna is present at times. In the main scene, it seems to be late at night.

I had been going through, in my mind, a set of patterns relating to the dream state. I consider how certain rules or symbolism has remained the same all my life. There are three main ones I had been writing about, but I do not recall what they were, though I think one was specifically related to directional orientation regarding dream features.

I am in the room and a cardboard box containing some of my older dream journals is present on the floor. There does not seem to be the presence of other discernible features. The top of the box is partly open. As I turn to face the windows, I vividly feel a cold wind flow over my back and I am aware it has somehow come from the open cardboard box. I am puzzled and consider that the wind should have come into the room from the windows, though I still consider closing the box more securely. I remain puzzled, standing in the semidarkness, and slowly wake. (In real life, it was very windy outside at the time. The sound probably altered the rendering of my dream in an illogical way as has happened many times before with environmental sounds, body position, movements, and tactile sensations. In this case, my dream self was looking out the window vaguely aware of the sound of wind, while my real physical body probably simultaneously felt a cool spot on my back unrelated to wind.)

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Early evening of August 19, 2017. Saturday.



I am in an unknown residence but my dream self does not perceive it as unknown. My mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is present and appearing as she was in the early 1970s. It seems I am only a boy, perhaps around thirteen. Still, I am working with a computer (and of course I had no home computer at that age in the 1970s).

A relative (Valerie) comes up near the left of the table as I am typing and says something I do not fully hear. She goes very close to the left side of the computer monitor. After a short time, I see that the headphone jack has pulled out and I have a false memory that it was a very sensitive (easily wrecked) setup. I tell her to go away as I then try to fix it. She yells at her father (David) that every time she listens to him, she gets into trouble. Apparently, she had been relaying something he had said. (The presence of these two characters is illogical, implying a completely different time period than the other characters).

I become very frustrated as I am trying to work out how to get the jack and socket to work again. The original headphone jack is of the small size, with an adapter of a large jack size fitting over it before going into the socket on the left side of the computer monitor. (This is an unfamliar setup never used in reality.) A few times I think I have it as it should be to work, but pieces come apart and the wires do not touch. There is one point where the smaller jack is just a singular loose tiny cylinder. I notice a number of jacks and socket rings on the table. The ones I need to more conveniently push it all together do not seem to be present.

I become so annoyed I say that I am about to throw the computer away and give up on everything (and not work with computers again). My mother looks on.

Soon, I feel vivid touches on my left shoulder and top of my head, as if someone is trying to comfort me as I sit near the table. I look up and see a large chubby and unrealistically bizarre female face grinning at me. I recognize her as a former classmate (Laurie P) who I never talked to much, though she has darker hair in my dream.

“Oh no, get away from me you horrid ugly…” I say clearly. I am not sure if I have even offended her. She slowly leaves the table without seeming upset. I consider that many other schoolmates may no longer be friendly towards me if they hear of my behavior, but I am not that concerned about it. (There is a vague thought of being unfriended by some of them on Facebook, but this makes no sense in light of the time period I perceive myself in.)

I eventually seem to have most of the small parts together, but it may not work. Still, I put the jack back into the replaced socket. Bare wires are still everywhere. As I sit down, I sense movement to my left. I end up punching someone in the left cheek with my right fist. The sense of touch and momentum is very realistic. It turns out to be a young version of Sam M, another schoolmate. I immediately apologize, saying that I thought he was David (another schoolmate, not the David mentioned earlier). I mention how I thought he might have been drinking and Sam says that David is sitting in another area of the large room and had in fact been drinking.

Sam seems to be doing something with my left arm, apparently some sort of medical attention, though I do not recall hurting it. (He seems an odd composite of child and man.) I tell Sam that I hope my punch does not leave a mark. That part of his face is only slightly red. Meanwhile, I notice that my computer monitor’s speakers are hissing but additionally, the normal audio seems to be coming out of both the headphones (on the table) and the computer speakers. (This is due to subliminal awareness of real sound, as our television is on in the next room.)

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Attempting to fix the jack and socket relate to subliminally trying to achieve consciousness by increasing neural activity while in the dream state. Sam’s attention to my left arm relates to the fact that it had a slight ache from having slept on it up to this point (which I am not aware of while still in my dream).

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It is the purpose of the preconscious to wake the dreamer or at least bring attention to the nature of the dream state in real time. Sometimes the preconscious is rendered as a snake to more quickly wake the dreamer with more emotion (such as when my arm has gone numb or is getting pins and needles, though was also a cobra biting my thumb in a dream when I was having pain in my thumb from surgery). There may be other factors, as the preconscious is not always personified as in this dream (Sam). The fact that I am in a dream in early evening likely explains why the preconscious is not as dominant in this case, as I had not entered a longer sleep cycle. (The first appearance as Laurie did not create enough emotion to rise from the dream state. Even my punching Sam in the face only initiated the augmentation of physical awareness to a greater extent and with additional perception of momentum, but it began the needed transition as he doctored my arm.)

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Created Friday 18 August 2017

Wow, almost two months since my last log. I'll be sure to pay heed to my previous reminder about posting here... Anyway, I'd a bunch of things to note today. Of these, I think I'll only post one of two LD's and skip the fragments entirely; the latter stuff is mostly inconsequential, and as for the ommitted LD... Eheheh, reckon that'll stay with me, maybe.

Dream 2 - The Orange Road

The visuals were bright but a bit strained. I was in the urbanized streets of a moderately developed country at dawn, the construction in the area dated, but not deplorable. After turning a corner, I gained awareness. In my excitement, I floated around for a bit, but immediately stopped when I saw destabilization. Took a moment to calm down and focus on the environment. I then sprinted and, after gaining enough speed, tried flying again. This time, I could only hover a few feet off the ground, and only momentarily. Next, I kicked myself off a nearby building's wall, from which I leaped all the way across the road. Noticed music was sounding in the background, the Sewer Surfing theme from TMNT - Turtles in Time, to be exact.

I then ran down an inclined sidewalk. Found myself in a more arborous place. Spectacularly, the street itself was paved from a vibrant orange stone. After hand-rubbing, I recalled the TOTMs. My immediate thought was to try the blue moon again, but debated the conditions to try that. So I resorted to the taste task. With minimal regard, I grabbed my shirt and licked it. There was, of course, no discernible taste, though from my tongue's sensation, I could at least note a polyester mesh fabric.

All well and good, but I thought I could do better. I turned my sight to a nearby chain link fence, warped and torn in certain points by overgrowth. So, I lowered head for a better look, only to get suddenly held back. Cue instant destabilization, and the dream ends.

Media Reference: TMNT - Turtles in Time - Sewer Surfin'

2017, 08-18

Game of Dreams - Oceans of Green

Daenerys: I am outside on a beautiful sunny day, and I am riding a beautiful horse. There is a vast valley stretched out for me. It is completely filled with green grass. The grass is waving, making it look like an ocean. There are some people with me. One of them is a knight. He is talking about the grassy valley. He says right now it’s all green, but there are times of the year when it is in bloom. He says this grass blooms with a bright red flowers. I am thinking about how beautiful that must be, when the knight goes and ruins it by comparing it to a field of blood. I give him a sideways glance, wondering why he had to make that comparison. He goes on to say there are other kinds of grass mixed in with the blood grass, and those grasses bloom in so many different colors it looks like a rainbow. He says there's a kind called ghost grass that is semitransparent, and it murderers all other grasses. I don't really care to hear about homicidal grass.

I kind of want to go off on my own for a while. I tell the knight that I would like to have a few moments alone. I tell him to have the others to stay behind for now. He says he will tell them. I ride my horse out in the grassy fields. The grass is much taller than I realized. It's almost up to my horse’s belly. I get the urge to go down into the grass. I see some color down there, some pretty flowers I want to see closer. So I climb off my horse and get down in the grass to look at the flowers. They are very pretty little blue flowers that smell very sweet. I hear birds singing in the surrounding grass. I wonder what other animals might live out there.

The peace is disturbed when I hear some loud argument from back on the top of the ridge. After the yelling which I can't quite tell what was said, I hear hoof beats. Apparently someone didn't feel like staying put. The rider appears and pulls up on the reins a bit too quickly and as for rears up and throws him off. I laugh as he lands on his ass. It is amusing. I see that the writer is my asshole brother. He's being an asshole again. He is pissed. He asks how I dare give him a command. I think he is taking this much too seriously. I just wanted to be alone for a bit. He comes over closer to me and starts being a pervert. He put his hand up under my vest, and pinches my breast. That is annoying. I push him away for me and tell him to cut that out. He falls back on his ass. He glares at me. He gets up looking angrier than ever. He says he thought we had that cleared up, that if I ever dared to oppose him again he would seriously hurt me. I tell him if he wants to try, go head and bring it on. He gets back up and starts to come at me.

I am about to give him a kick to his family jewels when he gets suddenly pulled back. I look and I see that he now has a whip wrapped around his neck. He is pulling at the whip with his hands, and having trouble breathing. There is one of the people that had been with me on the top of the ridge, he is on a horse and has his whip around my asshole brother's neck. He asked a question in a foreign language. The knight has caught up to us now, and he translates. The man with the whip is asking if he should kill my brother. I told him no, don't kill him. The knight translates. The man askes another question. The knight again translates. This time the man has asked if he should remove one of my brother’s ears to make him remember his error. I say no, don't hurt him. The knight translates. The man removes the whip from around my brother’s neck. My brother chokes and gags as he tries to catch his breath.

I look around and see that my brother's horse has wandered off. I figure that doesn't matter. He can walk back, I don’t feel like finding his horse. The other people on horses find that amusing. My brother acts like a child. He sits down on the ground and refuses to move. I tell the others that if he wants to sit there and sulk like a child, let him. I get back up on my horse, and all of us start heading back up to the top of the ridge where the rest of our huge group is. So far my asshole brother is not moving. I lose sight of him. I wonder out loud if he could get lost out there. The knight says that there's no way you can get lost. He says our group is leaving a path like a highway. I find the idea that our groups passing is causing that much distraction to be sad. I rejoin my husband on the top of the ridge and we start moving out. And then I wake up.

Morning of August 18, 2017. Friday.



I seem to be in bed with Zsuzsanna. However, our bed seems to be in the backyard of our present home with our heads oriented south (with the same left and right orientation as we are sleeping in reality). It is full daylight out. Still, there is an odd sense of bilocation of which is not defined in the usual way.

A boy of about ten years old comes into our backyard a few times from our neighbor’s backyard. He is unknown and unfamiliar, though implied to be the neighbor’s son (though this “neighbor” is also an unknown character). I display a bit of anger and aggression and he goes back each time, somehow going over the fence, though it seems somewhat like the old metal fence that was not very high. He has a somewhat condescending nature.

My awareness shifts and my dream changes orientation. Now our bed is in the Loomis Street living room, our heads west, opposite the front entrance. Once again, the boy is imposing by coming in through the front door, which may have been left open. I do not express much anger.

His father, an unknown chubby male of about thirty and with red hair, also comes in through the door as if he had been uncertain as to where his son had gotten off to. I nod and I do not express any anger at the imposition of either, almost as if their ridiculous intrusions do not matter at this point. The other man seems friendly and calm.

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Nothing relevant to waking life (on a personal level) is to be found here; just the usual dreaming and waking symbolism, here rendered as doorway waking symbolism, though in many cases, a distorted rendering of the emergent consciousness, mixed in with dynamics of the preconscious (sometimes as a “monster”) remains within a doorway rather than viably using a door or doorway.

I can only guess that these two unknown characters were related to unconsciously perceiving (remote viewing) random unknown people in the area as I was sleeping, the boy linked into the transpersonal stream via the preconscious while his father linked to the emergent consciousness, a dynamic that has often occurred in past dreams. The fence is a clue, as a fence symbolizes a division in levels of consciousness within the dream state and of course our being in bed is simply an indicator of being in the dream state.

It has remained obvious through tens of thousands of dreams for over fifty years, that the transpersonal preconscious stream integrates found personas that are the least like the conscious self identity, for that is the only real way, excluding willing coalescence, that the dream self attains enough emotion (through aggravation, conflict, or other emotions) to come out of the dream state under many conditions. Otherwise, the “ripples” of neural energy are unlikely to increase and the dreamer would remain in the dream. Waking and waking prompts are a biological necessity, yet most of humanity does not even come close to grasping the simplest concepts concerning dreams or their purpose or meaning.

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Morning of August 18, 2017. Friday.



I become aware that I am some sort of informal prison guard, yet I also apparently live with the prisoners, though atop a mostly featureless vertically-oriented rectangular prism with only a large mattress present.

The size-orientation relating to perspective is oddly distorted, as the prisoners seem only about one-fourth the size they should be relative to distance. I do not really consider this distortion as such while in my dream.

It is apparently my job, or at least my turn, to feed the prisoners who begin to gather far below. I have a large bag of chocolate Chex cereal. I throw down the pieces in small amounts as the prisoners gather to eat with their hands (as there are no bowls or silverware visible).

Looking around, I notice a prisoner casually walking out a main door into a hall. I do not call out or say anything, though I am not fully sure of the situation. An unfamiliar female guard notices this but does not get to them in time, so I assume that the prisoner has escaped. This seems to happen again later with a different prisoner who goes through a door in another area, perpendicular to the first.

In the last scene, a couple other prisoners are somehow atop the prism near me. I seem to be ready to sleep now. I feel the other male is a bit too close to me, but I do not say anything. He does not seem a threat, but his physical presence is somewhat intrusive.

---

This seems partly based on our youngest daughter accidentally spilling part of a bowl of Coco Pops Chex cereal onto Zsuzsanna from above and behind prior to sleeping. Zsuzsanna immediately got up to have a shower and there were Coco Pops Chex pieces here and there on the way to the bathroom and in the bathroom. Still, an additional association may be because they are somewhat cushion-shaped (as a subliminal dream state indicator). There may also be some sort of connection between “prism” and “prison”, as they sound similar.

Atypically, the personified unconscious seems to be the female prison guard - which is the opposite of the preconscious (though the unconscious does not usually appear to deliberately hold a dreamer in the dream state, which seems rather strange to me other than for circadian rhythms factors). This dream seems to otherwise move towards typical doorway waking symbolism (as did another dream of this date though also atypically), except that my emergent consciousness seems to be projected from a distance (“escaping” twice) due to my direct perspective (as the personified subconscious aka dream self) already perceiving that I am in bed and lying down atop the prism. Ambiguous multiplicity has occurred a number of times before in waking symbolism.

This is certainly not the first time I have been elevated above the rest of my dream’s setting, which simply means that I am closer to waking in a rendering of liminal space (often with increased physical awareness as in this case). In this case, it is even more obvious as I am already “back in bed”.

---

During the day yesterday I spoke with a girlfriend of mine about the consideration that have played on my mind in certain periods of my life of making sexual healing of women – a sort of glorified prostitution – a path in life. While the idea has remained relatively absurd to my conscious mind, the grain of seriousness has never really left my thinking.

Furthermore, I found during my self-love ritual tantric practice during the evening that my fantasies were no longer tied to Cecilie, but fluttered wide and far, though only with women. I recall that I was surprised at this, both in respect of finding a horniness for other women, but also in the release of attachment towards Cecilie as “the” sexual object of my consideration – as if I was freed from the shackles of having to commit monogamously to her to engage romantically and intimately, while also obtaining sexual favour.

My intentions were simply to remember my dreams, but I found it hard to fall asleep – which also led to a lengthy sexual practice prior to sleep.

Dream:

I am sitting on a train station. It is a small one, as you find in the country side. The weather is bright, though not scolding and there are other people on the station.

I am sat on a bench wearing a long trench coat. Underneath I am wearing clothes covering my upper body and nothing over my legs and genitals.

I am in a playful mood and as I watch out over the station across a hedge, I catch the eyes of a woman who is looking at me, smiling playfully. She knows “what is up” - which is really referring to my playful exploration of revealing my genitals, but which carries a stronger more direct meaning of explicit sexuality.

I look towards her repeatedly and she keeps returning the kinky mischievous smile.

Eventually the train rolls into the station, and after a brief evaluation if it is driving slow enough to actually stop, it does. The door opens and the woman and I get onboard. There is a slight distance so I rush slightly to make it.

Once onboard the woman asks me if I am a “blotter”, and I think I acknowledge, though it doesn’t take up much attention or time.

The woman now has turned into a composite persona consisting of Hanne – a Buddhist Lesbian – and Birgit – The owner of a toy shop I know very well from childhood.

We talk about her reasons for being on the train. She is headed out to receive attunement as part of her Buddhist ventures. On her lap she is carrying a printed text. On the cover is printed something along the wordings of “The fourth initiation, by Master so-and-so”.

I recall being surprised at this, as I thought there was only 3 levels.

I get up and button up the trench coat to make sure my dick doesn’t fall out and show by accident.

The main thing that grabbed my attention this morning was the number 4, which has been showing up in a couple of dreams recently. My initial interpretations and associations towards this was the 4 elements, the heart chackra and the wholeness of the quaternity in mandala symbolism.

I reflected on the homosexual nature – representing potentially suppressed desires or avenues of exploration, which I have carried out over the past couple of years with men, though not really fully – of one aspect of the composite persona – who in total is a woman, representing the anima or the collective unconscious – as well as the Toy Shop Owner – symbolising potentially a suppressed playful and animalistic aspect of my sexuality (I have recently spent many an hour talking about it in terms fetched from Tantra, such as divine union or simply as spiritual practice, which could represent a form of spiritual bypassing but also my desire to ejaculate in women – Cecilie in particular) though it could also point towards continuing the practice of using toys in developing my sexual skills.

My initial interpretation pointed towards a unification of my sexual nature with my Buddhist aspirations, where considerable conflict has recently taken place between sexual desires, as well as desires for family, intimate and romantic relations with the concept of renunciation of samsara to attain liberation.

What stroke me here was the sexual theme combined with the sacred scriptures combined with the symbolism of wholeness, pointing towards an active (playful and explorational) kind of integration between my sexual nature and desires with the quest for happiness and liberation. There is a particular focus on “going public” with this, represented in the “blotter” symbolism, which is greeted cheerfully by the anima, as a fruitful endeavour leading to a more enlightened place – represented by the scriptures and teachings.

Furthermore I reflected on the need to cultivate a more loving relationship – the 4th chakra, representing unconditional love - , not only to my own sexuality, but also the way in which I practice it with other people, women in particular – which now that I write it, is also represented in the recent dream of the “Bridge Elf” wearing orange and green, taking up 4 hours of journeying.

Looking through some of Jung’s work with sacred numbers in dreams and the Angel Number 4, some following additional interpretations occurred.

Jung also posits the number four as pointing towards “fourth function” - which is typically the repressed or taboo function – of thinking, sensing, feeling and intuiting. I am primarily oriented towards a thinking and intuitive disposition – making a mixture of feeling/sensing the taboo function. Feeling and sensing in this respect I see pointing both towards an acceptance of the more primal (non-spiritual and reproductive) aspects of my sexuality (represented by sensing, the physical aspects) and my desire, my right to feel, my wanting to take in a sexual context.

The Angel number 4 mentioned something around creating a solid infrastructure, focus in on an area of life where I want to hone my skills or reap rewards, or building a foundation of sorts. This has very much been a process as of late, aside from moving out and finding a new place to live (creating a solid foundation) I have also been focusing on trying to verbalise my competencies (dream analysis, shamanic practices and energy/massage work with my hands).

The immediate association here for me has to do with diving deeper into these three areas of my life. The vibe of the new place is phenomenal and now it is time – as in accordance with my priorities for the year – to focus on the stuff that can ensure a stable financial living. I have booted up the energy practices just yesterday – that also have a resemblance to the energy work of the tantric sexual practices. I spent many hours considering who I could approach to practice this work and also spoke with a friend about it.

In general I find myself elated with this dream, it is to me an encouragement in working in the direction I have been doing for some time. It is also a reminder for me to stop taking the shamanic work too serious and focus on what I really yearn to explore – sexuality – which makes me happy. It is not to neglect the hard work in store for both arranging practice with energy work, nor formulating the principles of therapy I am employing in my work with the sacred plants. I am curious to see how this theme progress – sexual exploration, continued work with stabilising the roots as a path towards wholeness and spiritual development.

2017, 08-17

Game of Dreams – Tears Falling

I am having dinner with my family. My dad and sister are there. It is a large table and there's a lot of food on it. My teacher is here. I remember her trying to teach me needlework. It was not very effective. So I'm sitting there and looking at mine, but I'm not really feeling very hungry. My sister is sitting several seats from me and she isn’t paying any attention to me. She is with her friend. I have the feeling that her friend is an asshole. My father says there's going to be a big tournament in his honor. He says he really doesn't want to have anything to do with it. It's just a big expense that the kingdom can't afford. My sister and her friend find the idea of the tournament exciting. She asks father if she will be able to go. Father considers and then says he will get both my sister and me good seats. I think it sounds stupid. I say I don't want to go. My sister says the tournament will be an amazing event, I'm not welcome there. Father is annoyed. He says he is getting sick of my sister and me fighting. He says we are sisters, and we should start acting like it. I'm angry at my sister. But for now I don't show it.

Father announces that he has no appetite, and then gets up and leaves. I look at my food, and it does not look tasty. I decide I have no appetite either. I get up. My teacher asks me where am I going. I realize that maybe I should be polite, so I politely ask if I may be excused. She says no. She tells me to clean my plate. I tell her to clean it herself. I get up to leave. As I go passed my sister, I pause to tell her off. I tell her that we both lost our wolves, but at least she knows hers back home and safe in Winterfell. My wolf is somewhere out in the wilderness and I don't know if she is dead or alive. Talking about that makes me feel like crying. I hurry from the room before my tears fall. I don't want anyone in there to see me cry. I hear my teacher behind me yelling at me to come back. I ignore her. I go running upstairs to my room. I go through the door and slam it behind me. It’s a heavy wooden door with a very satisfying to slam. There is no lock but there is a bar that I can slide down to keep the door from being opened. So I do.

Once I am safe in my room I feel safe to cry. And I do. While I am crying, someone comes up and knocks at my door. It is a hard and angry knock. And it is a not very friendly voice is speaking out there. A woman, my teacher, tells me to come out there in mediately. She says if I don’t come out immediately my lord father will hear about this. I don't care. I tell her to go ahead and tell him whatever she wants. She goes away. I open my clothing chest, and dig through it until I find a sward buried on the bottom. I think the sword out, I remember it is named Needle, and I start practicing with it. I am shit. I am in the middle of practicing with it but I am thinking about other things. I briefly considered going out the window and running away. Maybe I can find my wolf in the wild. I am thinking about that when there is a knock at the door. This time it is a gentler knock. And it is also a gentle voice that speaks. It is my father. He does not sound angry, he just sounds sad. That makes me feel kind of bad about my behavior. Anger I can handle, but disappointment not so much. He says he wants to come in. I raise the bar blocking the door, and open it. He comes in.

My father sees the sword in my hand. I had even thought to try to hide it before he came in. Yes it's me who's short is that, and I just see at night. He asked where I got it, but I don't want to rack out my brother so I say nothing. He says it doesn't really matter. He takes it and is looking at it. I have the feeling I'll never get it back. He wants to talk about things that of been happening lately. He says he doesn't like it when my sister and I are fighting. I tell him I don't really want to fight with her, but then I trail off. We talk about different things and I am close to tears again. And then it just all comes out, I don't even know what I'm about say untill I say it. I am crying as I tell my father that I had to throw rocks at my wolf to make her leave because I knew if she came back with me, they would have killed. The queen and the king. And I couldn't stand the idea of seeing that. I told her to leave and when she wouldn't leave I threw rocks at her. There be plenty of wild game out there for her to eat, and I do even heard other wolves out there, so she might even find a pack. My father seems to agree with my theory that she'll be OK out there. He says she was born to be in the wild, and she will surely adapt to it quickly. And she will certainly be the leader of any pack she joins. I am in my father’s arms still crying but it's stopping. My father asks me about the sword again. He asked if I really want to learn. He says I've got a wild streak, like a lot of others in our family. He says he will ask around and see about someone to train me. And then he hands the sword back to me. That comes as a surprise. He hugs me before leaving the room. And then I wake up.

2017, 08-17

Game of Dreams – A Knife in the Dark

Catelyn: I am in a room that looks like a bedroom in a castle. I am sitting in a chair beside a bed. There is a boy lying unconscious in the bed, I know he is my son, Bran. I am carefully feeding him a mixture of honey and water in a desperate attempt to get some hydration and nutrients into his body in a time long before intravenous drips have been invented. But this is too little I know, and if he doesn't wake up soon he'll... but I don't let myself think the word. I stop the feeding and hold his hand, little more than a skeletal hand now but still warm to the touch, focusing on healing him. I don't know if it's doing anything. A man comes into the room and starts talking finances. I don't care about money. He is also talking about positions that need to be filled because of people who have left town. I don't care about that, either. All I care about is Bran... I tell him to leave.

A boy comes in... this is my older son, Rob. He tells the man he will discuss the finances and positions to be filled tomorrow. After handing my son a piece of paper, the other man leaves. Rob is now talking to me about other responsibilities I'm ignoring. My younger son is crying for me, he's only 3 and he needs me, especially with dad away. He pauses and then says he needs me, too. He says he can’t handle everything all on his own. I want to turn to him and be there for him, but I have the persistent thought that if I let go of Bran's hand he will die. There is a commotion outside. Rob says the library tower is on fire, he will take care of it. He rushes out and takes a guard by the door with him.

Shortly later a man enters the room. I don't recognize him, but he is holding a dagger. He starts towards Bran and then sees me. He says I wasn't supposed to be here. I say that's too bad, because I am. Just what was he intending to do with that dagger? He looks at Bran and says he would be doing the boy a mercy, really. I tell him there's no way he is killing my son! He comes at me with the dagger. I change my right arm into an Alex Mercer blade and block his blow... but then I realize my arm didn't transform! Of course not... Catelyn Stark is not infected with the Mercer Virus! The blade cuts painfully into my arm. I grab his wrist with my left hand and twist it until he lets go and then I push him away, he falls onto his back. I am about to move in when there is a blur and then there's a wolf on top of the man ripping his throat out. Rob comes back and asks what happened. I tell him that the dead man tried to murder Bran with the dagger. Rob sees my arm and says someone should take care of that. I agree to that, starting to notice the pain more with the incident being over. I leave the room with Rob and then I wake.