I am with Melissa and she is driving us either to or from Mom’s so I can grab something really quick. I don’t recognize the car, but it seems like a mid size SUV. it is dark out. Melissa is in underwear and a white bra and I am wearing a towel. I see in the mirror a cop car a few cars behind us, so I tell Melissa to use her turn signal. She somewhat defiantly asks why and I tell her to just do it. She does, as she moves into the empty lane to the right (there are 3-4 lanes and it looks pretty much like S. Virginia). I see the cop car get over right behind us. I see Melissa see it and get why I was telling her to use her signal. She has her elbow propped on the window ledge and her head propped on her fist; she looks sort of sadly resigned. The cop looks like he could be running the plates or something. I wonder if he can see our state of dress from this angle and wonder what the implications would be. He is wearing some weird circular glass piece over one of his eyes, kind of like a monocle but larger and more steampunk looking. I think I saw him earlier. (fragment) I am somewhere outside with Mom and some unfamiliar? others. We’re on a small jetty of tannish boulders on what is probably a very small lake. It looks like the clear water is about ten feet down and I am planning on jumping into it (it’s so clear that the ground and submerged boulder look close, but I know they’re deeper than they appear) until Mom tells me that the water is actually right at my feet. Sure enough, I move them and stir up the water. It’s refreshingly cool. (fragment) I’m with Scott in a rental car. We’re at a red light when I notice that he’s in the back, I’m in the passenger’s seat, and no one is in the driver’s seat. It seems like he is casually expecting me to drive. I look to the red light and then quickly hop into the driver’s seat. I buckle up and I think put it in drive as the light turns, accelerating not too far behind the car in front of us. I’m driving around a long corner, like an off ramp, and almost hit the cement barrier, steering pretty hard to avoid it and get back on course. I think I was going too fast, but the car also seems hard to control.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening A police raid in a pub. I am with them, but I guarantee they'll find nothing besides a couple old people having some drinks. Once the cops are gone, I stay behind and the owners of the place take me to their underground bar / grocery store that provides food for illegal immigrants and is also a meeting point for marginals. Me, dad, cousin Cris, my aunt and late uncle, we are offered a weekend at my late grandparents house, which now has new owner, for a final goodbye. I enjoy every detail of it, look in detail to the old furniture still there, I go to the end of the hallway covered in spider webs, the back door plus the table and sofa and other small trinkets that my grandma kept there. Dad asks me for a favor, that I go outside and check something. Instead I go to the bathroom and have a psycho episode, grab a scissor and start cutting my hair. But I stop almost immediately and realizing a huge chunk of hair laying on the ground, I start crying with regret. I do not understand what led me to do it. I ask my cousin to see if it is too bad and she thinks not. Then at the kitchen my aunt tells me to eat something before I go. I start preparing breakfast but she tempts me with candies and a pudding. I go to the fridge to get whipped cream to put on top of it, but instead I put mayo and mustard on it. Then realize what I did and I can't explain it either. I start freaking out with my out of control mind. Followed by a reporter as I go with some Dharma brothers and sisters on some tour. One early morning we arrive at some location, get out of the car, everyone is exhausted and laying down on the ground. For some reason they start criticizing a girl who's wearing the same dress and shoes from another occasion. I don't understand what's their problem and tell them it's their minds getting tired and bored, because there is nothing wrong with the girls outfit, plus she looks gorgeous. The reporter is taking notes frantically with a smile.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening At my mom's apartment, something happens and I need to escape. I run for the door and in the stairway I jump all floors through the empty space in middle of the stairs. I expect the chasers not to be able to do so and gain some time with that. But it is one of those recurrent dreams I have in which the ground floor has no exit to the outside and I just hide in one apartment that had the door open and a key inside. I lock the door behind me and look for a window. I find an enclosed balcony but then I open a window and jump, just to find I am inside another balcony and this repeats several times until I decide to control the dream and focus that when I exit the window I am really outside. Funny though, I am back on the top floor and not ground floor, but I fly away and hide behind nearby buildings so my chasers don't see me in the distance. Then I fly to the mountains nearby. I reach them at dusk and find a weird place covered in stone ruins and some people walking among them, like pilgrims, they don't seem dangerous, but they all are a bit mad. They let me be, but some are a bit too curious and pushy and I need to stay flying above them because I don't feel comfortable when they approach me. Then I am with Zilla and some other friend on a cruiseship, when we're hit by a huge storm. The ship gets dragged to the coast, enters a canal, ends up in the city of some foreign country. We are in our cabin, getting dressed to go out. It's night and it is a hostile place, but we chose to leave the ship and hide on land. We hide on some hill and we are found by a couple enemy guys. They are armed and I make a bit of a theatre that we are "defenseless confused little girls so please don't shoot us". Instead, they decide to have fun with us. One of them, a big guy, gets on top of me, but I punch him in the throat, then kick his balls, slightly slide down through his legs and apply all my force to throw him over my head and we manage to escape them. Then we are ok and safe and visiting a museum related to the Catholic church and full of Victorian things and morbid things related to death, all in silver and lots of lace and velvet. There is a section with a dead mummified dog in an exquisite coffin. It smells like a crypt. Me and the girls have settled at a home and we are living in peace. But one day we hear strange noises and we think we saw some guy moving around the house. Suddenly a very old police car stops at our door but the cops are dressed as prisoners with striped jumpsuits. We first suspect of them but they say they came to protect us as they claim to have followed a hired assassin that came to kill us and then we believe them.
I am working at Sherwin Williams. I think I have come back for just today. I think I’m going to just work today and use all my old info to clock in, etc, as if that’ll actually work. I’m thinking that the people still working here will remember me and remember that I left. I am in a sort of goofy, detached mood that has to do with me being back in a place that I willingly left. This place definitely doesn’t look like SW, but more like a movie theater or something similar. Everyone is gathering in a dim room with a stage or some other platform and fairly steep, tiered, red seats. Melissa’s dad is giving a speech or talking to everyone. I am walking in with Nathaniel Fuller? (He appears to be as he was when I knew him). He is in the lead and takes an aisle seat in the front row. I’m not sure whether I’m sitting with him or not, so I survey the seating. There’s an empty row, but I’m not sure if it’d be weird if I sat alone or not. I end up taking the seat between him and another (familiar?) guy. The seat seems small and I feel squished between the two. Now, (or maybe it was earlier?) I am walking around here. There’s a long hallway area and different inlets. I enter one and am in a grocery store. I felt like I was going to get lost or end up somewhere and not really know how to get back, and now it has happened. I see a chubby guy with shaggy hair and scruff pushing a shopping cart. It is full of liters of light colored soda. I think I try to find my way back. I am with Melissa and Brooke now, outside and by some small, enclosed ticket taking booth inside which sits a middle aged woman. We have some receipt (from Sherwin Williams?) that we’re trying to use to go to the restaurant or food place that the tickets are for. We don’t have the actual ticket, but I’m thinking that this receipt will show that we have permission. I could see where the lady would think we’re being fraudulent, but we’re not. When she talks to us, Brooke’s replies are kind of snarky, even though this lady let us through. She’s actually been pretty nice, and probably doesn’t care if we do get to go. I am in the living room at Dad’s. From my perspective, it looks like I could have just come in from the garage. I’ve walked into a scene of two police officers sitting on the floor and a large group of people standing around them. Dad may be here too, and I think the officers may be in plainclothes. They tell me they are here because of my social media rends/tendencies. I feel a pang of guilt in my stomach that is only amplified by the disappointed looks on every face. I am thinking that they’ve found me out and there’s nothing to do about it but accept it. I am slightly relieved when they tell me that they can’t do anything about it legally, But then I think that means the FBI has to get involved.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening Slipping through an underground garage with someone. We need a trick to distract a security guard, so we attract the attention of another female guard outside and we manage to hide. We walk through a train track and we get caught by soldiers. They don't know us, think we're just lost, so we obey their orders and walk the direction they take us on. But we are on a mission, we have something or we know something and we need to escape. Then some other soldier who identifies us, sees us and starts shooting us all, including the soldiers. He's got a machine gun. I survive by pressing myself against a wall as I watch others going down. I manage to get closer to the soldier and I ambush the guy. I knock his gun out of his hands. Giant killer alien outside. One has to move carefully around town. I go to some place but it is not safe. The alien infiltrates the building and we have to be masters of disguise to escape him. A friend of mine has no bones (?). I am a researcher at a university. I write a letter to a teacher about a theory I have and want to deliver it in hand. I am a bit afraid of the elevators, so I enter a tower of stairs that leads to the lobby of his department. When I arrive there, there is a bunch of noisy guys coming out of an elevator and I get mingled with them as we walk to the entrance of the department. We need a card or someone to let us in. A man unlocks the door and lets me in. The other guys also want to, but he says one at a time. I arrive to the office of the teacher and he asks me about my theory, but it is a different one from what I want to deliver and she is puzzled. She asks her assistant something and they realize there was some mistake. She was expecting the other guys outside who also had sent some email with some theory and that's the ones she was expecting. They come in. I explain I didn't want to fool anybody, just wanted to hand my letter. She looks at me with contempt but I hand the letter anyway. I am sure once she reads it, she will be just as excited as with these guys' theory, but I don't know if she will even read it. They kick me out. I go back to my dorm room. It actually has great space, several extra beds like bunk bed and sofa bed, I can sleep in different beds everyday, but I clearly have no friends to make use it. It is so sad and pathetic I feel sorry for myself in this life. Helping two guys who are being chased by the police. Actually the cops don't know they are two, or three since I'm helping them. They are looking for just one guy, so they keep passing by us and letting us free. We are not simple thieves, it's something for a greater good and the cops are at the service of a corrupt system. Walking through some artisans crafts market. Meet Zilla and her friends and tag along. Then meet Riverstone and we all head for a building. We find the elevator not working and two maintenance guys come. One of them is my pre-teen sweetheart Marco, don't know if he recognizes me, so I don't say anything, but he calls me by my name and asks for help. I leave my friends and go help him. He has to dangle from some cables and needs me to push him in a certain way, I help but at some point he swings out of a window and I see him falling to the ground outside. I am terrified to go check on him, but he is fine, just hurt. He fell on something soft, he said he knew it was there since he knew this could happen. I go downstairs and sit on the sidewalk as he recovers from his soreness. Zilla and the others are passing by again and also sit to show me some cool things they bought at the market. Lovely boots and glasses, very steampunk. Marco also loves it, he is also into steampunk. As we talk I feel we have so much in common. Then some people come take a car that is parked by our side and we notice they have a dent on the side caused by his fall, but we don't say anything. Something about a vampire community and a bad vampire that has the power to kill others and is wiping them out. He just blasts some energy field and they are reduced to ashes. And I come to help them, because some of these vampires are my friends. He has two other very strong allies by his side. I get to fight the woman and I find that I can't defeat her, so I just distract her long enough so others can attack the bad vampire in the hope to win. The final fight between us is on top of a cliff by the ocean shore.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening At my room, feeling horny, somehow I start having sex with a giant plush rabbit toy. The notice I have the window curtains pulled open and lights on and some neighbors could be watching, so I stop and close the curtains embarrassed. Later some cops knock on my door with a warrant, do a search and find nothing. Then a food inspector comes and finds spoiled food on fridge. I wonder why would that be a problem, then think he might associate that with the fact I used to sell some food made at home. But who and why is trying to frame me? I go out and come back by subway at night. I get out at a shady station and regret immediately when I see lots of shady guys looking at me. I decide to go back and get out at another station. But when I am going back to the station I feel a needle on my buttock. Shit! I run all possible scenarios through my head and I panic. I try to get to safety inside the station before passing out, but I start loosing my consciousness and my last thought is that I am screwed. I wake up. I run a bar. At the end of the workday, I take a look at the deck tables and chairs an I find a leather jacket some lady forgot on a chair. I go around asking the people who are leaving but belongs to none of them. I check the pockets, besides 20€ it has some papers and two plane tickets. The name on it is of my neighbor Maria. I call her, no answer. I take the jacket to my back room. A Japanese friend comes by and leaves a video we shot months ago. It is of me and other biologists friends doing some experiments and acting out for the film. Looks funny, but my mom is concerned when watching it, as we manipulated bacteria and biohazard material. I tell her we followed the protocols and that it was safe. Alex also comes by and asks me something about the graffiti I used to do. I tell him I don't do it for years. He says he is thinking about doing some activism with graffiti. Then I am all alone and decide to test my magic abilities (telekinesis and such) to tide up the room. I lift my friends jacket in the air, make it zip itself and get into a hanger all by itself. I am amazed by my level of control, so I decide to amuse myself further. I summon two characters, male and female and direct them like a movie to do this and that and they follow strictly. Obviously I end up directing them into sex. I tell the guy to undress the girl, do some oral sex on her and penetrate her. He is quite good at doing it but I notice the girl is not feeling comfortable as if not wanting it. I wonder if what I am doing isn't actually rape. I expected these dream characters to be like hollow robots, but they are actually very human and I feel very uncomfortable and stop the whole thing.
Updated 03-18-2019 at 08:58 PM by 34880
I am somewhere outside (Hawaii?), walking down the sidewalk along a small two way street. There are storefronts and shops all close together (reminiscent of Virginia City or maybe even Lahaina). I have a kid with me whom I am watching (Adrian?). I think Melissa is with me too. I think we’re looking for ice cream, so I’m not sure why we’ve just passed an ice cream shop. We may be looking for another option. This shop has a large open window type front, but the opening is filled with shelves. The wood shelves hold little tiki containers of ice cream. I think there are also other shapes, like coconuts. One of the tikis has a Stealie etched and colored into it. I see a few different types of chocolate with different names. We continue on, and on the other side of the street there is a fairly large and simple stage in the shade. We’re passing by it, and I start nodding my head to the music. I notice that the rhythm guitar player is playing the smoke on the water riff over this band’s song. Now Sage is here for a second? She says that Deep Purple only knows how to play fast (as if they wouldn’t know how to play slow). I jokingly ask her if she’s ever seen a Deep Purple acoustic album, then say no because they couldn’t make one or something. Now, Melissa, the boy, and I have reached a stretch of beach that ends in a calm body of water. I have my arm over the kid’s shoulders, in a fatherly sort of way. He is bigger than a toddler, probably closer to 5 or 6. I don’t think he is Adrian anymore. The kid feels like a family friend or someone close enough to where I can casually put my arm over him. I jokingly say something about Melissa and him getting in the water (like it’s going to be really cold). I let them go ahead, and they actually do get in the water. I didn’t think they would, but now I have to follow. I step in with my bare feet and find out that it’s really not that cold. I’m wearing shorts and a tie dye? tank top. I see a thick, white worm or caterpillar with a ribbed body clinging to some debris right under the surface. I then see another. They’re slightly gross. I now submerge myself, and we all swim for a bit. There is a playground structure rising out of the water; we all climb onto it. From up here, I see a cop car parked under some trees a ways off (it is dark out). I think he puts his lights on, but he start coming over here. He watches us, but I think he can’t get over here because of the water. I tell Melissa not to talk to the police. I also imagine talking to him and telling him I have the right to remain silent and not answer questions. Now when I look around it seems to be daylight, there is ground (with wood chips) under the structure, and quite a few other kids here, playing. Keegan’s mom is now up here, on top of a slide. She is worried about the police being here. She’s worried about her son (who is now Adrian again - I see him playing with other kids down below) and thinks it’s because he’s left alone or too alone. I look down at him, and he puts on a face like this is actually true, which irritates me because the exact opposite is true. I’m just about to tell her that I’ve actually been with him all day, but she slides down the slide. I am with Dad, Makayla, and Lily at Dad’s? house. I’m talking to them about something. I now have Lily lay down: I'm going to give her a guided meditation (for OBE?). I was going to have her lay on her back, but she lays on her side and says it’s comfortable enough. I think that it’ll still work. I am sport climbing with another guy. It must be a multi-pitch, as we’re currently anchored next to each other up here. It also must only be the first pitch, as it’s not too high up. The rock is a dark and fairly coarse granite. There is something about the possibility of a hold breaking? I get to thinking about it and think that a whole slab of the face could fall off. I’m sketched out about this, and I’m glad I’m not the first person that had to climb this. I think the other guy wants to fall?
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening With a friend, we are going to denounce some corruption in the police. There is a conspiracy and they do what they can to stop us. A traffic policewoman doesn't want to let us drive away in our car, we understand she is looking for reasons to detain us, so we run away. We are followed, we split. I enter the internal affairs or something like it and I meet the detective that already is expecting us. I sign a letter with my testimony. Even in there he has to do some tricks to protect the statement and the evidences from corrupt colleagues. With some boys, having some classes on metallurgy, learning to make some instruments and later applying to some competition. With mom, arriving to a house at the very edge of the woods. We spot 5 kids coming out of the house, all fired up over something. They get on a boat at a nearby peer and we keep watching their journey as if watching a movie. They sail the sea and face sea monsters and are almost swallowed by a whale. They end up on the shore of some dream island and welcomed by some Greek goddess. People live there in peace, away from the human world, protected by this magical monsters that live around and in the island. I go down to the beach and meet these amazing black shiny horses that jump on the ocean and they swim to the shores of the idyllic island. I follow them there. Nothing happens on the way. Once on land, I learn the island is full of wild animal spirits. The population here stays indoors after sunset and keeps the fire burning for protection, because the evil spirits attack at night. But the fire extinguishes and we are attacked by a spirit in the form of a black puma. When he is about to attack me, he stops but still hurts me with its claws. Wants me to follow him to his cave. Zilla is there to and tries to hit him with something, so I can run. I don't want to hurt the puma, so I use the chance to escape and he gives up and goes away. Later, a demonic boar is attacking a lady and I also have to beat it until the spirit leaves.
Updated 01-19-2019 at 09:52 PM by 34880
Morning of November 18, 2018. Sunday. Dream #: 18,962-02. Reading time: 2 min 42 sec. Readability score: 53. One would think that after over fifty years, the same dreaming and waking processes in the same order and with the same foundational autosymbolism would trigger more viable threads of conscious self identity and recognition beyond subliminal RAS mediation than what occurs at certain stages of the sleep cycle. In this particular case though, my subliminal recognition of the dream state resulted in me resetting it, as had often happened before. My dream was mainly from the influence of a movie, “What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?” (1969), that Zsuzsanna and I watched last night, despite it being of the typical transition through the nexus, which in this case, is a supposedly hidden room rather than, for example, a porch. The focus revolves around someone I had supposedly killed, a younger male, possibly accidentally. (The backstory, again based on the movie, is unclear). The urban location is unfamiliar and unknown. The person’s remains are under a commercial business building near a corner. I had somehow done this even though I was not involved in the construction of the building. The Sleeper (the “dead” person) transmutes into a cheerful emerging consciousness simulacrum in the last scene before the offset dream, without my dream self finding it unusual. There are many typical scenes of evading the authorities, one of them (the preconscious simulacrum) in particular. The emerging consciousness travels with me after someone finds their remains. The building is already being taken down during this time. (In the movie, the remains were under pine trees.) He (the activated Sleeper aka previously “killed” character) helps me find a secret panel in the wall of a nearby building, in a hall. I first try to phase into the wall (as with many past dreams in subliminal, liminal, and lucid manipulation of the dream state). Instead, a panel opens, and we step into a supposedly hidden area. I reason that going deeper into the area will result in us being less likely to be found as well as being farther from the entrance point (the same “logic” as in hundreds of previous dreams of the same type). (This scenario, naturally becoming the most vivid segment of my dream, replaces the typical porch-as-nexus event, in correlation with enigmatic space as the association between dreaming and waking. It includes “puzzles,” associations with detectives, ambiguity relating to where my real physical body is, and so on. Of course, it is not possible to “hide” from the natural preconscious transition.) However, upon walking into another area, the avatar tells me that “this is his office,” meaning the office of the police sergeant that had been after me. I notice how it looks like an ordinary office and is not hidden from public access on one side, finding it annoying that there is not much prospect for a genuinely hidden room. The police sergeant eventually comes in. I reset my dream, and it becomes a scenario where the police sergeant is the one responsible for the “death.” He is supposedly a vampire, which I tell a few people - and I have film footage to prove it. I then liminally reset my dream into an offset scenario of the typical vestibular system correlation process. I am helping someone, though only at times, who is in a wheelchair, as we descend an unlikely staircase built of various big stones in an outdoor rural area adjacent to a mountain. (In other cases, I am consciously aware of using this process to sustain or vivify a dream.) We have a little trouble, but we cheerfully descend several steps without incident, even though some of them are two to three feet high. He seems to find it amusing and mostly maneuvers his wheelchair on his own. There is no preconscious simulacrum at this point, only the emerging consciousness (as the otherwise typical vestibular system avatar) in the wheelchair. (This stems from both “What Ever Happened to Aunt Alice?” and the new “The Flash” television series, where characters are in wheelchairs without needing to be as a part of their “disguise.”)
Morning of August 19, 2018. Sunday. Reading time: 2 min 39 sec. Readability score: 55. In my dream, I am walking through an unknown neighborhood at night. My dream self believes I am in America (even though I currently live in Australia). I have a false memory that I am supposed to go to a radio station to work as an announcer as well as perform live music on the air. At least two of my older brothers, Dennis and Jim, are already supposedly there. (In real life, Dennis is still alive, but Jim is deceased.) When I reach the building, it is mostly unlit. There seems to be activity inside at first. Over time, I become very annoyed, because it is presently only serving as a relay station rather than a radio broadcasting station. I hear loud voices from inside that sound like my brothers, but the broadcast is on loudspeakers inside, and from an unknown location. I walk around the building, and a few unknown residents tell me the station is closed, and that no one is there. I still yell near the building in case anyone is there. All of the doors are locked. I am very annoyed. Looking at the street from the front of the building, I see a police car arrive. The police are probably here to tell me to leave and to stop yelling. However, my infra-awareness shifts to where I non-lucidly transform the vehicle into a white semi-truck without a trailer. The preconscious avatar, still in a precursory mutable form, changes from a male police officer into the semi-truck driver. The cab is tipping forward, and he seems to be working on the engine. He does not look in my direction. Soon, preconscious dynamics shift into a more dominant form for the waking process. An unknown woman opens the front door of her house, becoming the emerging consciousness factor (in the usual doorway waking autosymbolism). When I tell her of my situation, she looks at me and says that my Australian accent sounds unusual. I am annoyed by her comment and tell her that it is not an Australian accent as I am American. That triggers awareness of my conscious self and dissolves my fictitious dream self’s identity, which causes me to wake (rather than to become lucid). What is a relay station in the brain? The thalamus is the deep-seated part of the brain that relays incoming sensory information. The brain’s outer cerebral cortex coordinates responses to this input. The most important process of a dream is to bring about awareness of the conscious self as preparatory to waking (or in contrast, becoming lucid while remaining asleep). People who are “against” lucid dreaming because of misconceptions about control do not seem to understand that lucidity and dream control are separate factors. (The preconscious distorts threads of the unconscious with synaptic gating, to prevent false memory. In other words, the non-lucid dream self does not even have viable access to the unconscious mind, revealing that the theory that dreams are related to memory processing is asinine. For me, infra-control, or non-lucid dream control, often brings about full conscious awareness, but lucidity is not required to control a dream and people who make this claim have no credibility. To quote Stephen LaBerge, “Lucidity is not synonymous with dream control. It is possible to be lucid and have little control over dream content, and conversely, to have a great deal of control without being explicitly aware that you are dreaming.”) Although I did not become lucid here, while threads of my conscious self were temporarily locked (the closed relay station), I still controlled my dream’s autosymbolism in non-lucidity by changing the potentially annoying police scenario into a non-event (which did not trigger viable lucidity). The man working on the engine is an analogy to becoming more aware, both physically and mentally. RAS modulation commenced, but with a less annoying context. A door did eventually open, to remind me of who I am, and that is the subliminal, liminal, or lucid quest of the dreamer.
Morning of July 26, 2018. Thursday. Reading time: 1 min 51 sec. Readability score: 71. My dream starts with a scenario involving what I think are people working for the EPA. I am present, though I am not originally a part of their group. Something happens to an unknown male. It involves a tree that had fallen on him. The background story changes. The leader (probably Andrew Wheeler) gives me the job of guarding the man who was injured (probably Scott Pruitt). I am to pretend to be a police officer during his hospital stay. I tell them that I do not have experience doing this. They say that they will give me the proper outfit. I am to stay in his hospital room until further notice. Later, I am wearing a turquoise uniform. I sit in a chair on the left side of his bed. He does not wake or move at any point. His head is at an odd angle, as his pillow elevates his neck but no other part of his body or head. It appears he might be uncomfortable (even though he is asleep), though I cannot be sure. An unfamiliar nurse tells me, “Well, it’s better to have indigestion than a broken neck.” As I sit there, I feel confident in my role. Eventually, however, an unknown male walks in, a police lieutenant of about sixty years of age. He stands across from me and talks to the nurse. Although I feel confident in my role, my non-lucid RAS mediation begins to waver. I start to realize that I might have been given an incorrect police uniform from another department. I also consider that he probably knows all of the officers in the area and eventually start to question who I am. Eventually, the RAS avatar responds to my silent subliminal commands and stares at me. “What are you up to here?” he says in his role as the police lieutenant. He brushes my uniform, and I notice some dust on a few areas of the jacket. I realize that he knows I am not one of his officers and not even wearing the correct uniform for this region. He does not tell any of the hospital staff that I am an imposter and does not even question me from here. He turns around and walks to the doorway. “You’re going to regret that,” I boldly call out after him. I start to tell him that I am “working undercover.” Then I realize, looking to my right, that the other man asleep in the bed is me, literally under the covers. It is virtually the opposite of a dream from yesterday, where transpersonal interconsciousness avatars were posing as female police officers, and I questioned them (except in that dream, “An Unwarranted Treasure Hunt,” more of my conscious self identity was present). How hilarious can it get?
Morning of July 25, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,846-05. Reading time: 1 min 20 sec. In the morning, Zsuzsanna received a message about a contest from an unknown sender, but I am wary. Although it seems like a legitimate competition at first, it turns out that a gangster had buried a jewelry box near our house (that in my dream is first a variation of the Loomis Street house and near the southwest corner, though the sidewalk is not present.) Eventually, several unfamiliar men are near our house. They look for their buried jewelry box for the valuable items inside. I see them as intruders and realize at this point that it is not a legitimate contest, but that unknown men were using an area of our yard to hide their loot from other criminals. I hit two of them with shovels, but I think they might have guns. I want to protect my family, but there is no logic in not letting them get what they want and leave without bothering us, so I wait. My family remains inside our house during this time. Eventually, the gangsters are no longer present. Our house changes into a version of our present home. Two female police officers are in our kitchen. Each of them is wearing a blue bikini and a black trench coat, which makes me think they may not be real police officers. I go outside to see them digging in two areas of our backyard. There is a police car parked there, and that could mean they are real police officers. I ask them if they are real cops. One of them looks at me with an annoying glance, saying that people only use the word “cop” on the Internet. I remain unsure if they are real officers, but I slowly wake as it now seems as if they are gardening rather than looking for loot. When I was in middle school, a female bus driver, as my schoolmates were boarding, was angry upon hearing someone say “cop.” She said people should not say “cop,” because it was disrespectful.
Updated 07-28-2019 at 06:27 AM by 1390
Morning of May 27, 2018. Sunday. Typical RAS modulation autosymbolism was going strong in this non-lucid dream but still did not activate the waking process, so I slept a couple hours longer than I usually do (even though Zsuzsanna and our children were up and in the lounge room with the television on at one point). If I cannot rely on RAS to wake me at a certain time with unique dream content (which is what a dream’s autosymbolism is inherently for) at the top of an ultradian rhythm, then I consider that very unusual. In the first part of my dream, the setting is a unique new variation of the King Street mansion, the second-floor apartment in the middle of the east side of the house. My non-lucid dream self does not care that it is an impossible setting. I happily sit around on the floor for awhile listening to bizarre fictitious music (on a record player yet) where the lyrics make no sense at all. The “music” seems to have rock elements, but the male vocals are mostly randomly spoken phrases. I hear the audience cheering, so it must be a live recording. At one point, he chants slowly but loudly and clearly, “Yellow bathroom”. (This is a biological hint to my dream self, but I do not feel the need to use the bathroom in my dream.) I notice my curtains are open, and I see an unfamiliar male lying on his left side on a ledge, in his underwear, enjoying the wind and smiling. It seems to be late morning. Apparently, he is enjoying the music I am playing. (Of course, this is a liminal projection of how my real physical body is as I sleep.) I am annoyed that neighbors can see in, so I attempt to close the curtain. (In reality, this scene could not be possible either, as the windows had only a view of the front of the house across the street, so there was no side of a house right near the King Street house, though what does my non-lucid dream self care, from a lack of any viable connection with either the unconscious mind or my conscious self.) I hear an unfamiliar girl’s voice yelling about my music, and their music is turned on more loudly, even though the male was enjoying my music. (I did not think my music was loud at all.) A different male argues with her and there is yelling for a short time. I go into a different room and I am now in the lounge room of the Stadcor Street house (which only has the first floor) with Zsuzsanna. Now, the events are shifted to the first floor in the house next door as well (and as usual my dream self does not notice the impossible change). I mention something to Zsuzsanna about the music and an unfamiliar male, who can see into our house through our window from his window, loudly says, “You think you can beat me?” I reply by yelling, “Why don’t you leave us alone?” I then yell at no one in particular, “I’m tired of crazy people always living next door to us!” I go out to the front yard and bash several unfamiliar males on the head with my Olympic barbel (no weights) and swing it around like a baseball bat until no one else is standing or moving. My dream shifts into reinduction rather than the waking process during the RAS modulation event and I now find myself riding in a skiff tied to the back of a small motor yacht. Curiously, I do not recognize this scene for what it is and no lucidity is triggered, only an elevated vividness. I am now a female (of about twenty-five), though not a female I have any conscious knowledge of. A man tells me to tie an additional length of rope from my boat to the back of his motor yacht (as the previous one had apparently came off and I am now drifting over the ocean). I somehow do this even though the distance would not logically allow it. I throw the rope and pull it lightly, but a large knot seems to make itself with no effort on my part (to my left; reinduction orientation and stabilizing). “That’s a good knot,” says the unfamiliar captain from the other boat. A few other unfamiliar people look on. After a time, I am “myself” (though only about twenty-five) and another (unfamiliar) male is sitting to my right. We are still on a skiff on the ocean, but there is no other boat now. We go through an ambiguous area where it seems I am inside a house for a short distance even though we are also on the ocean. I notice many large sharks swimming below us. The water is unrealistically clear. I am wondering if there is any danger, though I do not feel concerned. The other male denies there is any danger and tells me how sharks only eat things that are at its own level in the water. I do not feel any fear, more like cheerfulness (almost comedic) even though there seem to be hundreds of sharks below us. Soon, the scene shifts and I am walking with the same male and an unfamiliar female. We are in an unfamiliar town near mostly commercial buildings. After we walk a short distance, the male vanishes. We look back to see someone running in the distance. Suddenly, I am aware that we will be blamed for the kidnapping of the male that vanished. We are carrying small plastic bags. We stop to look inside them. The girl’s bag has the ID of the male that vanished. I know that the police will be here soon and that we are being framed by an unknown person. I take the ID and throw it behind a soda vending machine thinking it will not be found and that I am being careful and intelligent in my action. The police arrive and I am still holding one of the small plastic bags. The scene somehow shifts to where I am in a police station (though of more of a restaurant appearance). The police officer is looking at the supposedly kidnapped man’s credit card (made of cardboard), a large sparse clump of hair, and some other items. The officers do not seem to think I had anything to do with anything, but I still tell them we were framed. (The girl is soon no longer present.) “Can you take fingerprints from plastic bags?” I ask. I say, “I know my fingerprints are on them, but they will probably also have the fingerprints of the kidnapper.” “Can you take fingerprints from hair,” I ask. “Can you take prints from paper?” A police officer at a counter looks at me as if he is wondering why I am still here. Two other officers look at me annoyingly as well. They are not interested in me at all. I decide to finally leave my dream (in a liminal state, as I am not viably lucid until the last moments) and finally wake as I step through the door. (This last part is quite odd. I am liminally trying to force RAS modulation by way of my conscious self, but nothing happens, probably because the process is often transpersonal in origin in its natural form. On one level, something similar occurred recently, where I learned I was not in trouble for “killing” an unknown male, though my dream self had the opposite focus as to this one and I did not seem to be as fully modulating it myself.)
Morning of May 9, 2018. Wednesday. In my dream, I am living back on Barolin Street, but there is not much else regarding conscious self identity. In fact, there is uncertainty over the country the setting is implied to be in, though I should assume Australia even though the police sound and act American. There is more of an open area and a larger side yard on the south side of the house. The typical preconscious modulation kicks in and it is an unfamiliar male of about thirty. Curiously, in this case, I am outside the porch rather than on it or in the house. I jab him just below the sternum with a stick (or possibly the handle of a broom) and it seems to go all the way through his body and out his back. Still, I am uncertain of whether or not I killed him. Even so, I stay outside while he apparently falls back into the porch. This of course causes a shift in unconsciousness, though my dream continues. When I am in the side yard, three police officers arrive. I first think I may go to prison, though it is never determined if the man had actually died or not. Suddenly, there are several unknown members of the public sitting around at picnic tables. There are two male police officers and one female officer, all unfamiliar. The two male officers start to be cheerfully condescending of me being South American (even though I am not). To my left, they dance happily around while a mix of music plays, which seems an ambiguous combination of Mexican Mariachi, Bolivian, and Andean. They are greatly enjoying themselves and dance around smiling at me but seem to be patronizing me with their tomfoolery. I am not sure how to respond and I remain sitting at the picnic table. One of them puts on a poncho and talks cheerfully about me, additionally asking me how I like living in South America. I do not say much. Finally, in the last scene, the female officer talks happily to me. Apparently, I will not be getting into any trouble at all even though I suspect I killed the intruder. I am vaguely aware of manipulating the RAS mediation (as is often the case), actually feeling the change over time, though I have no actual lucidity (thus, this is the common transition of liminal dream control experienced since earliest memory), and that the RAS personification had gone in my favor without its modulation. I feel good about the waking transition, though my conscious self identity does not fully kick in until I am awake.
I had a dream last night..! The first that I've remembered in a while..! It was more in bits though. I was myself, at home for a time, but then ran outside. I think I was running away from home, I remember hearing my parents call after me. But I continued to run away from my home. In the street, I was surrounded by a few young men (In their early 20's maybe?), and they grabbed me and started to pull me away from my home. They grabbed me by the arms, pulling me backwards along the street. I remember the police arrived on the scene, but the men were too fast and seemed to know exactly how to sneak away from the scene. I was locked up in a caravan, with a man. Then I woke up..!
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