14th February 2021 Dream: (Long-ish. Recall broken up a bit.) Some bit in my home town. It seems dark but it's kind of day time, it's not just cloudy, because there's still colour saturation even in the dark. I walk around a corner of a modified version of where the primary school I went to is. There's something about this dream segment that has some consistency with previous dreams around this area. The buildings' height seems slightly exaggerated. The school itself has the main building in a different place, it's where the gate should be. There are some people I sort of bump into and talk with, I forget who. We are on the pavement by the main road that passes here, in front of the police station and where my cousin used to live. (Another bit, don't recall surroundings) There's some kind of wooden cabinet, not unlike the one we have here at home but smaller? Lighter wood stain. I'm trying to climb it. It has a hole of some sort on an inner side panel up top in the middle. Somehow, this is the entrance into a building. I've been there previously in the dream but recall is lost. The centres of mass in play mean that I can't balance myself properly to climb up. I remember I ask someone for help, someone I knew from school comes by, C? (gap) There's something about a vacuum and my eldest sibling. A car parking lot? Sort of hilly. Then, I'm in some kind of complex. It's got a high tech but magical feel. Purple and deep blue hues, with light blue highlights. Light seems neutral otherwise. Crystal walls or something. I am with other people, forget who, but one I think is a dream character and is guiding the way. Then a room with a crystal bridge or something. I think I cross it. Then I'm in a more normal looking basement. There are more people here, some possibly from my family. Some are just pure dream characters. (gap) I'm at a table in this basement with some other people, or perhaps I'm just a presence. A guy is having a happy conversation, with the air. And someone at the table starts to think this is odd. Then I see through his eyes and see he's talking to a ghostly woman. (rest of recall too vague to put into words) Notes: - Lately I've been playing a game where a character keeps seeing his dead girl-friend. That last bit from the dream seemed to be a related intrusion from that context. - The crystal place had a certain familiar feel, but I can't quite place it. On introspection, it only seems to be related to a general feeling of certain archetypical locations from several media (primarily animated films, games).
I’m in Virginia City with Dad and I think Kris. we are in a building that seems larger than any really up there. It may be a restaurant or a restaurant attached to something else. There are tall ceilings and baroque wood work and decorations. It seems empty and dim to dark. I am walking to the bathrooms and there is something about a certain portion of them being haunted. I’m wearing a face mask, at times putting it over my eyes? I’m feeling really creeped out, like I could see something scary/paranormal any minute. Now, I’m walking around outside with Dad. We are pointing out the ‘haunted’ spots. I hold my phone up to one of the spots and watch as the temperature on the screen drops from 80-something to about 30 degrees. This happens quickly and is very creepy. There are two to three guard dogs out here, and one starts channeling the voice of a spirit. The dog growls low and constantly but seems to transmit a human voice after Dad and I ask it a question. I think we have a paranormal encounter elsewhere too.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening astral projection I am in VFX, the nearest city, heading to the bus station to get a bus home, but the street is packed with people. It's some holiday and everyone is celebrating. Then I realize I am not wearing a mask and have been walking through all these people who are also maskless. I look deep inside my bag and find a mask I carry for emergencies. The buses are not coming and people are angry. Then a group of people at the end of the line for the bus, spots a bus stopping a few hundred meters before, to avoid the crowd and they start running to get to it firs. I join them. Then a meteorite crosses the sky. We hear something on the news about incoming meteorites worldwide. When I finally get to my mom's home, another one of those meteorites flies by her building. I go to the window to check it out and realize it is not a meteorite but a spherical UFO. It comes to check our windows. I tell mom to stay still but the UFO somehow enters the room without breaking the window and analyzes us. Mom panics and collapses. The UFO is a type of intelligent drone and asks us to cooperate or else. Then forces us to have a math lesson with a hologram teacher, who for some reason is Cristina, a Portuguese tv host. She asks me to solve a math problem but I struggle with it, because she wrote it on a screen and immediately deleted it, plus they give a gadget that is some kind f calculator and I don't know how to operate it. They get upset. Meanwhile my dad comes in, doesn't realize there is an alien drone projecting an hologram, thinks the lady is real and starts flirting with her. I feel so embarrassed that I ask the alien drone to please forgive him and it actually becomes more friendly. Spending some time at some place like a kindergarten. I am friends with the teacher and I am replacing or helping her. RAP has a kid going there and at the end of the day comes to get him. We meet and we get very friendly, we goof around a lot. I think he likes me. Then his wife also comes by and he introduces me to her with too much enthusiasm and with his hand around my waist. I feel awkward and she clearly is very upset. She is gorgeous, but I get the vibe he has way more fun with me. Some woman complains the next day that her kids didn't do homework or something and that it was our fault. I am sleeping over at some Japanese friends' house. When I arrive he serves me tea. Hands me a strange package with detachable packets, each one with a different infusion. I just want to drink some hot beverage, but he claims it is important that I read the texts printed on each packet and choose the one I want accordingly, no matter if it's in the middle or end of it. I say I don't care, just detach the first one and he insists the choice is part of the experience and we end up debating the virtues of caring or not for that and I no longer care about the tea. I then spot on his tv some anime show that looks familiar. I see that it is written by a polish guy I know from the Sangha. I love it and then realize it is very similar to the story I have been wanting to finish for a graphic novel. I am back in VFX with Riverstone and the town looks totally different. The street layout is changed, one of the main roads is now pedestrian friendly and it has now lots of tourist shops selling historic artifacts and ethnic crafts. I find my dad at an Indian shop arguing with the seller that some amethyst necklace is actually made of turquoise. I try to reason with him that the Indian guy is right but he insists we are wrong. I accidentally damage a bag some with ink I had in my hand and try to hide it, but then my dad knocks down a bottle of perfume and breaks so all attentions go to him. I think I have a moment of astral projection. Starts off as a false awakening in my bed, it's dark in my room, I feel my cats cozied up in bed with me, but at the same time I realize I am not quite in my body and I am seeing through my closed eyelids. Then I hear a strange "ting ting" noise approaching and recognize it as my grandpa's walker coming towards my room and stopping by the side of my bed. I don't see him, but I do feel very clearly a presence and a darker shadow where the sound just stopped. My grandpa died a couple of days ago, so I realize I am being visited by a ghost. First I feel scared but then force myself to calm down, after all it is just grandpa checking on me before possibly departing to elsewhere. Just like he would do when he was alive, he would walk by silently and look casually without saying a word before moving on. At some area with apartments, shops and gym. I just had an ice cream at a food truck and some guys that know me and some who don't, just exchanged some comments and catcalled me. I am a gorgeous woman, with the looks of the likes of Sofia Vergara, but I am also a detective or police agent in my pant suit trying to be respected for who I am. The sun is setting as I walk across a courtyard leading to a long staircase down to a car park. From the top of the stairs I see the shadow of someone stabbing another person at the car park. I am unarmed and my instinct is to go back and see if nobody else is coming and call for backup. I enter a gym that is just right next to me and warn some women there of what just happened so they take cover and hide. I also call the police and they say they already had been warned because there are more bodies and the killer is on a spree. When they arrive, they take me to where there is a line of bodies left by the killer on a street nearby and they evacuate everybody in the danger zone to a safer place. The manhunt starts. I find a suspicious black woman hiding in a tight corner of an alley holding a knife. I tell her to stand down but she won't and tries to attack me. I remove her knife but she has more knives and keeps reaching out to it. I manage to remove all knives and immobilize her and other agents come to take her. She claims she is only hiding from the killer and has the right to defend herself because I could be the killer. I grant her the benefit of the doubt and I say that I believe her and I apologize if we are being unfair but she still needs to be interrogated because she was acting suspicious and had some 5 knives on her. The officers then tell me they have found the suspect, a male, and he is cornered on the top floor of a building with a kid hostage. We all go there but only I go inside the room to negotiate. He has a knife pointed to the kids throat but I get close enough to throw a small knife to his head. Doesn't kill him but hurts him enough so he drops the kid. The kid is taken by other officers. The killer takes the knife out of his skull and grabs more knives. We fight, he cuts me a bit, but in the end I make a choke hold with my legs around his neck, disarm him and flip back throwing him unconscious. I am exhausted and hurt. All my colleagues are in state of shock and awe and unable to say anything. I feel sad and lonely as I pass them going down the stairs.
Updated 10-12-2020 at 08:30 PM by 34880
Morning of May 3, 2020. Sunday. Dream #: 19,494-01. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. In this dream from late morning, I maintain precursory liminality after I re-enter sleep. As a result, I recall Zsuzsanna and a few of my waking-life associations (including the instinctual perception of being in bed), though I lose recall of what a dream is (as I ordinarily do in this mode). Even so, it starts with my focus on our bed, but the setting is undefined at first. As Zsuzsanna and I are standing in a different room, I watch the sheet on the bed lift by itself and move back as if manipulated by an invisible person. (Note that this correlates with the management of precursory liminality and has happened in many previous dreams.) Zsuzsanna and I walk into the unknown bedroom, and I am astounded by the realistic detail and precise rendering of the events (a thought process that never occurs in waking life - how many people, for example, would watch a car go down the street in waking life while thinking, “Wow, that looks so realistic”). Over time, my dream resolves the room as having the essence of the Barolin Street house’s lounge room (where a bed never was in waking life). Eventually, the supposed ghost of a teenage girl is present and is responsible for the previous inexplicable activity. Her name is Sophie. “Are you the same Sophie from years ago?” I ask her, but my question does not make much sense. She cheerfully confirms that she is by nodding. (She is an older version of Sophie Wender from John Wyndham’s “The Chrysalids,” also published as “Re-Birth.”) I move my hands through her hair, saying how “realistic” it seems as imaginary somatosensory dynamics increase exponentially. (Note that in a different recent dream, this same process resulted in removing sandspurs from a resting wolf’s fur.) Eventually, with Zsuzsanna still in the room, another supposed ghost materializes. This one is Marcella Boyland from Daniel F. Galouye’s “Tonight the Sky Will Fall,” though I do not interact with her as much. The need to wake to use the bathroom integrates into my dream’s content, resulting in liminal management and its personification as an unknown male ghost married to Sophie, a status previously unbeknown to me. (His manifestation annoys me, as Sophie is “mine,” but discarding the waking transition would be unwise.) As a result, I gaze into a mirror (though I do not see myself at any point, as the mirror is higher than my line of sight), with liminal drop anticipation. From this, the sketchy drawing of a crow fills the mirror, part of it including random zigzagging lines. “Can ghosts influence what people see?” I absentmindedly ask the male. “I had that mirror back when I lived in Chicago,” says the male, which is the usual nonsensical response to questions asked in liminal mode. (Ghosts typically result from liminal management with waking-life identity being “incomplete” when between dreaming and waking.) The “ghost” walks into the bathroom, causing me to realize that I need to wake up and go.
I am in what looks like a large fitting room (sort of like one in the Levi’s fitting rooms) with Dad and Makayla. The lighting is dimmer and the back wall is encompassed by a mirror and a bench. We’re standing at the entrance when I, recording on Snapchat, throw a sock into the room and watch as it is thrown back before it even hits the ground. I throw it a few more times, the same thing happening each time. Now, I seem to be on a roof of a building, on a long ledge. Dad and Makayla are down on the ground. I am asking ‘Charlie’ to reveal himself and actually bracing myself for it to happen.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening I am Lawrence of Arabia, female version. On a train with westerners and arabs. The train is diverted to a remote village, hijacked. We are taken along. I confront the thieves, but they present me their arguments and we end up staying there, both as prisoners and guests. The men want me and women hate me, both because I am very voluptuous and attractive. I am accompanied by two ladies who are always covering me and blocking the men's looks. At some strategy meeting, Clara is talking, presenting a project and asking for backup. Everybody rejects it and turns away. I am the only staying and supporting it. She gives up and rips the papers apart and goes to a bar next door. She leaves her purse and camera behind, so I grab her things and meet her at the bar, which is more like a coffee shop and other friends I know are there too with her. Somehow she is surprised that I brought her stuff. Including money she had left on the table. At my far, the gate is broken, some of my dogs are out. My dad is fixing it from the inside, I go outside and block it with something so that the dongs don't run away. When I turn away, I am now on an apartment of which I can't find the exit door. On the bathroom I see a ghost. It tries to lock the door and trap me, but I manage to escape. Some brazilian dude rings the bell and I finally find the door. He is pushing some campaign and offers me cake. wants to come inside. I say the house is haunted and he still offers to go inside and check it for me. But I choose walking out instead. At my university campus, some celebration with live music and tents. I am trapped under and inside one. I try again going outside but they engulf me. I fly through the ceiling, but don't get outside, just to a different place, like an office. At this office, people have their dogs and cats with them. I pet some of the animals. Then some lady has two babies and asks for my help. They are adorable. One had vomited and the other needs her eyes cleaned up. I tell the mom to go get proper cleaning products while I take care of the babies who fall asleep in my arms.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening It's really early dawn and I go on foot to meet Riverstone at home, but it is totally dark, so I can't take the road down to the valley, instead I hang up at an old house on top of the hill. It's an old stone house and soon I find out it is haunted. I see the ghost of a little girl roaming around and then a couple of bad guys chasing her and she disappears down a hole on the floor to some water pipes. I find some toys stuck in there, a ball, a bunny and something else. Then I hear Riverstone's van approaching, he is going somewhere, but he stops and comes in this house to. Also has some child with him that he is attending to. I surprise them and ask for a lift but then for some reason I stay behind. My dad and grandpa come by with papers and a proposition to make to the tenants of their country house. They don't tell me what it is and the tenant's family comes by, their family has increased quite a while, particularly they now have a bunch of girls my age (actually younger but in my dreams I am always between 20s and 30). They are pissed of with the proposal they say it is 2800€ short. My grandpa starts feeling nervous and anxious and I tell them not to be confrontational or he can have a heart attack. He goes away and I take care of it. I ask what the issue is, but they don't believe I don't know, think I am trolling them. But I conquer the girls trust and they will negotiate with me. Later I spot a boar with a baby coming out from the bushes and I say it with enthusiasm and go take a peak. No one saw it and they don't believe me. I point to the animals and they don't look like boars anymore, now they are dwarf zebras. Then my mom comes by and she asks my help to graft a tree on the outside of the house which we do. She kinda ruins it, but then I fix it. Then I am at a kindergarten nearby where I used to go as a kid and they have a gardener that goes there once in a while to teach the kids somethings about gardening and horticulture. I find it wonderful, want to do the same but I don't think I have his talent to keep the kids really interested.
I am in a house (unfamiliar, I think). Paranormal things keep happening, such as some invisible force moving things and/or touching me. It feels very real, though I’m not sure if anyone else is seeing it. I am going to an event for/at the preschool. Some others filter in along with me, some familiar. I recognize kids and parents. Inside, there are quite a few people here. It looks like an elementary school. There’s the cafeteria we’re in, the doorway we came in and one directly opposite it, and one hallway off to the left. All in all, it’s pretty small. I see Mom here, talking to a few, and she is in what looks like a stroller. (I think this is due to a disability, but I very much take it for granted in the dream). She spots me also, but is waiting to come over to me. I am overhearing talk of the disarray that Catholic Charities is still in. Tim Mills is here too; we pat a hand on each other’s shoulders in greeting. Surveying the tables, I see everyone already has food, mostly cheeseburgers. This makes me realize that I’m pretty hungry. I wish I would’ve ordered one, thinking that it is probably too late to do so now, that they’re done making them for the evening. Now I am sitting by Nelson and his dad. His dad is combing Nelson’s hair, which looks slightly longer and thinner and almost a translucent, fluorescent white-blond. He’ combing it into almost a Trump-do. Nelson sits placidly. Dan is talking to me about haircuts, but I’m finding it difficult to hear. My responses at times are nonsensical because I can’t hear and don’t want to ask for a repetition. They start leaving, and I follow suit. We leave through what very much looks like a house’s garage (the two getting into a black truck/SUV parked within). Melissa’s car is a few feet to the right, perpendicularly in the street. She’s sitting inside, on her phone. I go up to open window and am going to say something, in a humorous tone, about her moving, but before I can she says she already knows she’s in the street. Dan apparently didn’t think she was in the way, as he’s already backing out, pretty quickly. I ask Melissa if she wants to hang out now or not. She says she doesn’t care and that it’s up to me, to which I say the same exact thing. We end up going home (to Mom’s?).
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening Inspired in the latest Sandra Bullock movie, which I haven't seen, I am with some kids and friends in the country. There is a haunted house we are in, teaching the kids on how not to be attacked by the ghosts. They react to thoughts and emotions. When we think about it, they appear. We make a giant dark figure stretch his arms through a door, almost getting us. But as long as we have no fear they can't harm us, so I face the monster fearlessly and he can't touch me. Then someone inspired by Game of Thrones or whatever, projects on us some hardcore body armors with helmets with long horns and secret weapons and turns us into ass kicking warriors, so no one is afraid of no ghosts anymore. Going to marry Jaime. I am organizing my own wedding and it is a vegan wedding. The music for the aisle walking is the Imperial March. I am doing all preparations myself. All guests are seated and I am in my dress but I am also with a mop and a bucket doing last minute cleanings. The groom is late so someone decides we should have the food first. Then some last minute guests come and Cory Booker is one of them. My friends don't know him, I tell them he is a candidate for president of the USA and vegan. One asks me if he is democrat or republican and I answer. We seat and we eat soup.
I am inside somewhere - a house maybe or somewhere that feels sort of homey. There is a boy and a girl here, around my age and unfamiliar to me. They are each in a separate room. The rooms are pretty bland; I think each only has a wooden table. (This feels more like I am watching a movie, especially since I switch between observing each room). I watch as, in the boy’s room, a chair is slid away from the table seemingly of its own volition. It startles the guy, and he sort of gasps at the occurrence. To me it all seems kind of campy. Now in the girl’s room, we see her seated with another woman. When we glance back, this woman suddenly has an ugly, ghastly face (very similar to the Nun) that produces a twinge a fear in her and myself. I feel the adrenaline’s warmly numbing sensation move down my body. A few other paranormal and cinematically cliché occurrences ensue.
Morning of October 13, 2018. Saturday. Dream #: 18,926-01. Optimized 3 minute read. Part of my dream’s initial setting has the essence of the Cubitis house’s kitchenette (1978) though its placement in the surroundings is incorrect. It features a 1990s washing machine instead of a stove. (My mother only ever had a wringer washing machine with a cylindrical body when we lived there.) There is an open space to the right (when facing west) leading to a big bedroom with other rooms beyond. My dream self mistakenly thinks it is Marilyn’s house. (Marilyn is a half-sister on my mother’s side who died in 2014. My dream self does not recall she died, and she appears here as in the late 1960s.) The washing machine inexplicably slides across the floor, turning at an angle. An invisible force drags it to the bedroom. It stops near a door on the opposite side, near the bed. I find this event fascinating, so I tell Marilyn about it. I discover the ghost of an unknown boy hiding under the bed after Marilyn informs me. I perceive him as sitting in a Padmasana position (Lotus Pose), although there would not be enough vertical space in a real-world scene. I find a small radio station control room in the house, though it is mainly featureless. I talk to Jim through its closed window. (Jim is a half-brother on my mother’s side who died in 2008. My dream self does not recall he died. He appears as he did in the 1970s.) He tells me I should never talk about the ghost to anyone outside our home, but I disagree with him, so he seems sad. I intensely focus on my marriage to Zsuzsanna and our miraculous “coincidences.” I talk about them as if they resulted from a divine force above us. Astoundingly, despite this, my dream self does not attain waking-life recognition. I return to the bedroom. Marilyn informs me that the ghost boy’s parents, also ghosts, had been hiding in the wardrobe for a long time. I open the wardrobe to investigate but mainly focus on an unfamiliar stocky man in glasses. He wears a suit. His right eye seems lower than it should be, angled downward. It is also a shorter distance from his left eye than what would be natural. I hold out my right hand for him to shake. I am sincere and cheerful. He willingly shakes my hand. I place my left hand over his right hand, and tactility increases. I am confident and peaceful as I acknowledge him with a sincere smile as if I am happy to meet him. Intelligently understanding dreams: In actuality, I am asleep in bed, vaguely contemplating mobility because of my status of REM atonia. That is why I imagine a force dragging something to the bed. It is a washing machine to remind me I am undressed while sleeping. Shaking hands compensates for becoming intuitively aware of somatosensory phasing caused by variations in REM atonia (paralysis while sleeping, which occurs through all dreams throughout the sleep cycle in healthy people). It also acknowledges the waking transition - unification with my real-life awareness. This act, and hugging, are the two fundamental forms of this intuitive process, depending on my willingness to wake up during a specific part of my dream. The unusual downward eye is an intuitive association with having my eyes closed during sleep. The “boy ghost” in the Lotus Pose under the bed is also a dream state signifier. There are two main reasons for ghosts appearing in my dreams. One reason is instinctual awareness of my dream self being an incomplete form of my true conscious self. That includes my lack of real-world mobility corresponding with the false physicality (vestibular-motor phasing) of dreaming. Even if I walk around in a dream, I am not walking with my body in a real-world event. This type of intuitive awareness integrates into various dream narratives. Unlike others, I rarely fear protoconsciousness, either in hypnopompic sleep paralysis or in the dream state proper (and its natural REM paralysis). The other reason is my deliberate summoning of ghosts, monsters, or haunting scenarios to bring about ASMR, which I learned to do in childhood. However, ASMR, predominant in the bliss of hypnopompic paralysis, is not usually as present in the dream state. At high levels of lucid dreaming, I have less control of a dream because of conscious bias (excluding hypnagogic and post-hypnagogic dreaming experiences). I know that ghosts, movie monsters, aliens, etc. - do not exist, so summoning such content is futile.
Updated 05-17-2022 at 04:12 PM by 1390
After another year, I can finally focus on dreaming again. I'm having trouble getting the motivation to write as soon as I wake up, but hopefully I'll get used to it again, like before. If a dream isn't like a story, or there are multiple different things that happen separately, I'll use bullet points now instead. So... -Was with my parents, and there were a bunch of other cats around, all the ones from the farm house we had to leave back in 2011. I distinctly remember calling out to one nearby, who was rolling around. His name was Boots. This is not the deceased cat, however. The only cat we now know is gone, is a tiny female cat named Ryza. I think I was partially lucid here? Eventually, I started crying, and I picked her up in my arms when she got close and I said "I just miss her so much" through tears. Woke up with my eyes watering. ...Maybe she's somehow letting me know she's okay. -With my brother Aaron, and not sure if my parents were there. There was a small hill nearby that we were on top of already. At the top was a parking lot. A truck suddenly drove up the hill, and into the parking lot, while flipping multiple times, yet sustaining no damage. I remember saying "That truck's a tank!" -In a different, yet familiar house, looking around. I remember it definitely being haunted in the dream. Haunted by the spirit of an elderly woman. Eventually, I remember looking around and saying "Thank you for letting me be here." Not long after, a horrible sensation coursed through my body, and I felt like I was getting electrocuted. The dream ended shortly after. ...What a bitch. That's it for now. Gonna try to write in here more.
Morning of June 18, 2018. Monday. Subliminal awareness of the autosymbolic nature of the waking process begins. My unconscious mind is personified as an unknown female despite the fact my non-lucid dream self does not possess viable access to my unconscious mind at this level of REM sleep. Errors and distortions abound. She is a subliminal thread of my wife Zsuzsanna, of which my non-lucid dream self does not yet possess viable memory of or contact with my current conscious self identity. She has a daughter who literally but subliminally represents our oldest daughter at a younger age. I am sitting on the floor in a unique erroneous version of the King Street mansion. The house is mirror imaged to its real-life layout, flipped east to west. I am in the downstairs antechamber while the female mostly remains in the living room on the other side of the doorway. She seems annoyed in building a small structure on the floor in about the middle of the living room, mainly from a set of small blocks of different solid colors, mostly blue, yellow, red, and green. They are about the size of baby blocks, but with a feature on all six sides that is like the knobs of a Lego brick, though there are four knobs on each side of each cube in a two by two pattern. A couple times, as the blocks do not fit into each other, stacks of about seven high topple over. There is a row of about eight stacks at various heights. (This is autosymbolism for failure to initiate viable conscious awareness.) I am puzzled and somewhat annoyed, though not angry, in trying to rebuild the staircase that goes to the second floor (where I had lived in real life though not been since 1990), which supposedly is to be the real staircase. This is an extreme failure of thinking skills as I am solely working with small triangular pieces of wood. The pieces are only about two inches thick. The two stacks I had made this far are only about six inches high in two rows of about eight pieces each. I cannot seem to arrange the pieces in the correct orientation regarding which edge should face upward. I have several together, but they do not display the form of a set of steps. This indicates that my subconscious self is having difficulty in reaching my conscious self identity during the waking process. Subliminal anticipation of the waking process continues but increases. This is after the subliminal recognition of a staircase being autosymbolism for the waking process despite its miniaturization in a setting that represents the liminal space of the process, the antechamber (what my landlady called a “vestibule” in real life). Vestibular system correlation personifies, which causes my dream to jump to a new setting, though in the same King Street mansion, still mirrored east to west. I find myself on the second floor. I develop an ambiguous awareness where I start to become partly aware of my married status and erroneously perceive the house, though vaguely, as the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane (where we have not lived in years), though that was only a one-storey house and was nothing like the King Street house. Vestibular system correlation personifies as Glenn, one of our landlords from Stadcor Street. He has never lived in America, but my dream self does not consider this error. I have a vague awareness he is married to my landlady (only vaguely recalled as Zsuzsanna at this point, but this does not trigger the realization of my erroneous associations) even though in reality he had a male partner. A vague thread of dream state awareness is present at this point, though no threads of viable lucidity. Because of vestibular system correlation personifying as Glenn, who seems very cheerful, I walk through the doorway of the upstairs kitchen, which opens to the porch’s roof. This is from vague recall that a porch can be used to vivify a dream, as it is autosymbolic of a specific level of dream state consciousness of which I had used many times in the past, since early childhood, to vivify my dream or “step into” a more vivid offset dream. This process developed from walking outside by way of the porch’s doorway. Here though, I am somewhat puzzled from being on the roof of the porch, as there is no additional doorway to intensify my dream or trigger viable lucidity (as the option to jump off the roof to fly does not occur to me). Glenn looks up at me from the public sidewalk in front of the house. “You’ll have to use the catwalk,” he says happily. I get the impression he had used the so-called catwalk and jumped to the ground from the outer edge of the roof. I study the roof and see a precarious narrow section of wood that is separate from the rest of the roof, which puzzles me. I stand on it, but consider that I cannot get to the rest of the roof (which has some building materials and tools sitting about) even though all I would have to do is step onto it from this supposed catwalk. Even after fifty years, my dream self fails to remember the dream sign of a cat being a “witness” to liminal space and typically near doorways (for the purpose of inducing lucidity in some cases), though the association had been distorted into the word “catwalk” in this case. (No cat is present and my dream self does not think about cats even upon hearing “cat” as part of “catwalk”.) The association with a “cat always landing on its feet” is not present (regarding the vestibular system dynamics of the waking process, which is often a falling sensation, based solely on biology, not “meaning” as “interpreters” falsely propagate). My dream shifts into a different scenario as a result of considering the nature of the King Street roof (still erroneously associated with the Stadcor Street house) and subliminal anticipation of the falling sensation of the waking process, which does not occur as a result of this shift. Now it is a typical non-lucidly forced “haunting” scenario. I am downstairs again, but this time the setting is an ambiguous composite of the Stadcor Street house and the Cubitis house. I am now more aware of Zsuzsanna as my wife, though it is still not a complete recognition. She still seems to serve the role as landlady. “How long has…it…been in this house?” I ask her this dramatically, speaking of the haunting, which is mainly nonthreatening. We talk briefly, but I become distracted. I find myself in a dark room with an unknown female. There is talk about ghosts and seeing physical evidence of ghosts in this house. I tell her, “This is the only house I have ever lived in where there is the physical presence of ghosts.” On one level, I know ghosts are not real, but on another level, I have achieved non-lucid dream control and revivification at this point to entertain myself. The old writing desk that Zsuzsanna used to have is present, which results in an increase of thinking skills correlation. Near the opposite side of the desk from where the unknown female is standing, another female slowly appears. It is a ghost. “Can you see her?” I ask the female. She tells me that she cannot see anyone there. The ghost is a realistic version, as a “real” human, of Velma Dinkley (of the Scooby-Doo franchise), though about twelve years of age. She seems puzzled and very shy and uncertain. “Who are you?” I ask her. “I’m a goddess,” she whispers. I am puzzled and ask her again about five times. Each time, she softly says, “I’m a goddess”. I want to help her come to terms with her death. (This is a vague influence of “Show Yourself” from 2016, seen just prior to sleep, where I expected Travis to hug the ghost of Paul near the end, though he did not). I hug her, place my right hand on the small of her back, and move it up to the middle of her back. As a result, the palm of my hand begins to glow with white light, rays shining into other areas of the room. (I do not recall the association with Zsuzsanna having been born on September 13, though this was exactly one year before “Scooby-Doo” first aired, therefore Velma in this case is a subliminal representation of Zsuzsanna.) The palm of my right hand continues to glow as I find myself walking south through the Cubitis hallway. I stand in the doorway of the Cubitis southwest bedroom looking into the semidarkness. Several unfamiliar people, both men and women, are sitting on couches that are against the west and north walls. (This is an erroneous setup, as the north wall held the sliding doors of a large closet in reality.) I hold up my right hand and the light spreads into the room somewhat. The others are puzzled. I step through the doorway and wake. (This is a vague association with a security system reading a handprint to allow entry, or, in this case, to exit the dream state.) With this entry, I have attempted to explain the dreaming and waking process as best I could for this dream. (This is difficult in a society where most people have no viable understanding of dreams, many still believing in “interpretation” and “symbolism” in the popular sense, neither of which is real.) The bedroom is a literal thread of final recognition that I am dreaming, and so I choose to wake. The light represents attaining consciousness as a willingness to accept daybreak and intelligence of which only the conscious self possesses in waking life.
Morning of June 13, 2018. Wednesday. My dream self holds a liminal awareness of being asleep. Eventually, a subliminal focus on bodies in blankets, as we have more (and thicker) blankets on us in the cooler weather, helps build the first dream segment. The setting is unknown, but seems loosely based on an association with our backyard on Stadcor Street in Wavell Heights (where we have not lived in years). I find myself carrying a corpse fully wrapped inside a thick blanket (autosymbolism, though with literal threads, for my physical body being inactive in sleep). I consider that it is Earl (an older half-brother on my mother’s side who died in 2007). Even so, the body is not of realistic size or weight (though my dream self does not consider this). I drop him into a pile of other bodies that are in a hole in the ground. The hole accommodates the length of a little less than two bodies and the width of about two bodies. The bodies are almost to the top of the hole. When I drop Earl in, he somehow easily slips down vertically into a space between my mother and my brother-in-law Bob on the right (though Bob is still alive in real life as far as I know). (They are each fully wrapped in a blanket.) This cheerfully surprises me. There is an awareness of how his body actually seemed to quickly shrink as it slipped down into the space below (vestibular system correlation autosymbolism). I know there are several other bodies farther down, all relatives. I briefly think about the bodies being together like this, vaguely pondering if it is the right way to have a burial. I have a false memory that it is normal to have the bodies of deceased relatives in a backyard like this. Knowing that they have to remain buried at a deeper level, I push down on the bodies and even roll around on top of them to force them farther down into the hole. This works to a degree and about two feet of space remains near the top of the hole, but I do not yet shovel dirt into it. In the next segment, dominated by non-lucid dream control, I am in an indoor location, though it is mostly unfamiliar (though my dream self perceives it as our present home). I am explaining to members of my family how to see into the spirit realm. They are all on my right, including our youngest son. I consider possible communication with Marilyn (older half-sister on my mother’s side who died in 2014). This connection to the spirit world is activated by pressing a paperclip onto the edge of a button on the television remote. (In my dream, the perimeter of each button is metallic.) Doing this distorts the signal, removing most of it to display supposedly ghostly broadcasts and patterns. At first, the screen is mostly black, but there is a fuzzy form that moves across the screen from right to left (though of which mainly just seems like signal interference). I point it out to family members as evidence that ghostly activity is being seen. Soon, another form is seen. It is like a very hazy incomplete rendering of Godzilla, about half the height of the screen, somewhat like a pale gray outline with some other details, but it also seems to be a chubby young cat walking on its back legs (which my dream self does not pick up on the autosymbolism of in a cat being a “witness” to the nature of the dream state in mediating the preconscious bulwark, here rendered as the television screen). The image wobbles and sways as it moves from right to left. I tell the others to watch this odd feature. Eventually, very clear and detailed scenes are visible, though they are in black and white. There are two “devils” conversing in one scene, one female and one male. They are also insect-like, though mostly human. They have goat horns as well as insect antennae. They are in an outside environment near a rocky area. I have no concern about this scene (as I even find it amusing) and I start to consider that this is a farce. At one level, despite continuing to pretend the images are coming from the spirit world, I realize that all I am doing is weakening a normal television broadcast to create “ghost” images and isolated partial pieces of the real broadcast. Sliding the paperclip against the buttons on the remote, the normal broadcast of a schooner at sea, originally in color, changes into a hazy black-and-white image and the rolling sea becomes the wavy lines of the vertical hold being out of adjustment, distorting diagonally (an amazing effect in my dream). There are other images after this, one being the hazy “ghost” of a sea captain. Soon, color images from legitimate television broadcasts start to remain on the screen longer. I tell my family that the process is starting to weaken and the supposed spirit world contact is no longer viable. It has an association with static electricity lessening after more continuous contact with the metallic surfaces. The last image as I wake is a vivid colorful view from under a girl looking down at the viewer, her head against the blue sky. This dream was caused by the typical combination of autosymbolism (based on the sleeping, dreaming, and waking process) with television influence, which is interesting, as television is an analogy to a liminal space division or preconscious bulwark. The primary influence of both dream segments was “The Seven Year Itch” episode of “Grimm”, seen just prior to going to bed. The remote and paperclip scenario was additionally based on a question from “Think Tank” seen earlier yesterday, though based on an incorrect answer otherwise regarding how a felt-tipped pen saved the Apollo 11 mission (by completing a circuit). It is extraordinary how non-lucid mediation of a dream combines total fantasy with distorted waking life associations, though this is by lifelong habit since early childhood in sometimes reviewing and altering content of television shows, movies, comic books, and so on, in liminal stages of the dream state induction process.
Morning of June 7, 2018. Thursday. I am watching a dream scene as if present, but I am not a part of the events. A male ghost, mostly of a darker violet color, dwells within the space of the checkout area of a convenience store. Most shoppers are unaware of his existence. At times, he temporarily takes possession of some people. In the last scene, the ghost somehow transforms into a piece of grape-flavored hard candy in a wicker bowl (where all the other hard candy is also grape-flavored) opposite the checkout area and the cashier. Apparently, customers are allowed one piece each as they go through the checkout. An unfamiliar woman puts one of the candies into her mouth. Suddenly, she appears to be in distress, as the cashier and store manager help her to tilt her head back as the ghost, not yet fully expanded within her physical essence, unwillingly comes out, though the other two are also pulling it out. At this point, it looks somewhat like a violet tracksuit, the track pants coming out first. Colors often correlate with dreaming and waking processes, though only when dominant (especially as dreams typically contain all colors). My general sequence is as follows (and of course black is unconsciousness): violet, non-lucid subconscious self; indigo, lucid subconscious self; blue, interconsciousness (prescience, telepathy for lack of a better word, and liminal conscious self awareness); green, liminal space, lower preconscious; yellow or gold, emergent consciousness; orange, apex lucidity, ordinary awareness and a more viable memory set; red, invasive RAS modulation (as red typically only dominates a dream when I have overslept or have a headache and I also see red with reticular activating system modulation with a headache when awake, so it is more obvious in this case). Of course, there are variations which also depend on the level of dream state awareness itself. The checkout scenario is common autosymbolism for leaving the dream state. This correlates with the non-lucid subconscious self being “pulled out” of the remaining dream character prior to waking. A cashier would of course be preconscious personification and a store manager the emergent consciousness factor. Perception of loose clothes has occurred in other dreams in checkout scenarios. This is based on the subliminal realization of not being dressed while asleep in bed, the same subliminal awareness that triggers dreams of being undressed in public (which should be a no-brainer for anyone of reasonable intelligence).
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