All DJ Entries

Morning of April 9, 2006. Sunday.



How wrong can a partly scripted and incubated lucid dream go of indulging in lovemaking while in a flying chariot (pulled by bronze winged horses) above an endlessly continuing large city? Well…guess. Try it, and you will probably see what I mean.

My wife Zsuzsanna as Vulnavia and I are in a partly undefined area. This area of course starts out as the bed in light sleep paralysis but has motion and movement over time into a cityscape. Regardless of the recent romance in reality (which automatically triggers this form of light sleep paralysis and blissful lucid dreaming in the first place), that only makes my dream’s essence more soothing and “realistic”. Well…make that in some ways.

I look ahead at the “realistic” rendering. At times, other than the regular team, I see a few stray horses at quite a distance ahead, yet somehow I know they are still pulling our chariot (which I seem to know has the Roman numeral for six on the side; VI). (For some reason, this scene of a horse being way ahead of our vehicle yet still guiding it somehow, has occurred a few times though in different context. Added August 11, 2015; for example “A stolen candy bar wrapper and a girl with golden skin” from May 15, 2014, which also ended with a play on “golden calves” and as with that later dream, I am concerned about “how we will make the corner properly” at one point, though relating to the tops of buildings in this case.)

There is a strange physical awareness that the chariot cannot maintain horizontal orientation, though that is more of a benefit in this scenario than a distraction. There are transitions in setting between bed and chariot, a bit like typical in-dream environmental bilocation. Mouths press together sensually and at times, there is a sense of slight vertigo at being so high in the sky. I have to check the horses now and then to make sure they know where they are going. A large flock of birds disrupts our otherwise smooth flight and wild lovemaking at one point. Well, I suppose that was almost a certainty.

After a time, in getting closer to clock towers and whatnot, I accidentally perceive the notion of supposedly linear time and how to “properly” perceive time. Of course, in dreams, that can be an attention-altering mistake.

We are still having fun. “Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.”

(Who said that?)

Of course, a chariot and a sleigh are two completely different things (try telling your dream-self that). Unfortunately, the power and speed of self-as-dream-maker thought simply does not care. Thought does not wait to check itself for logic or run self-diagnostics (other than in apex lucidity I suppose, but this is a level down from there).

Thus we are now making love in a bed on a raised platform under a candy cane canopy in a Christmas display (in April, yet) - Gimbels I think (though not extant in reality). I am concerned about visitors though there is only one male who vaguely reminds me of Phil Silvers, but I know many more people are going to be coming in soon. My wife is up and out and in Vulnavia’s white fur outfit.

“Have you seen Santa?” he asks. Oh, how stupid. I have to remain under the sheets, completely undressed, as I cover my head as much as possible. I feel him tugging on the sheet near my feet and lower legs. It is very clear. “Santa? Santa? Come out of there Santa.” I need to teleport back to our “real” bed and I do. (Apparently, Zsuzsanna had been lightly caressing my leg with her foot in reality in her half-sleep.)

Update August 11, 2015. I just realized that “Phil Silvers” is possibly a play on “Feel Shivers”.

Original journal entry dated Aug. 18, 2002:

I had a dream that I made out with Kermit the Frog (?!). I hope this doesn't indicate some sort of weird Muppet obsession on my part. And then he changed into somebody else.

Then, I was fighting these dragons that were attacking me, only I had to fight them with chi as well as with my sword, and they were REALLY powerful, and I killed the strongest one by chopping his head in half.

Morning of September 11, 1974. Wednesday.



I am physically involved with a Latina classmate who is lying on her back. There are two older female classmates on each side seemingly giving her instructions as well as holding her legs so that she does not roll over or kick on a large platform holding the hanging Liberty Bell. Her blue jeans tear off like tissue paper. This takes place in the southern area of my backyard in Cubitis, very close to the southeast corner of the house. The cubic platform seems about three feet high and probably has room for about five people in side-by-side lying-down position. I am facing north.

---

• This was partly influenced by the television movie “Born Innocent”, seen the night of September 10th.
• This dream is an excellent example of a metaphorical rendering to halt the waking transition even though my lucidity is minimal. A bell symbolizes the waking prompt but because it is cracked, it is associated with the symbolic pause of the waking prompt to make the dream last longer as a result. (This is not by active dream self will but by native dream state metaphor).
• This was precognitive in being based on the exact location of my first real intimate experience in Cubitis.
• In real life, this classmate often wore blue jeans with a large stop sign patch on the bottom. Her last name ended in “bell”.

---

Morning of July 8, 1973. Sunday.



[I willfully enter into what I consider may be my last dream of the morning. I maintain my lucidity, perhaps only losing a thread or two of my conscious self identity. The essence of my neural activity becomes the more tangible form of water, as it most often does, and the water expands to form a lake. I welcome the presence of female genitalia, and it is rendered as a canoe, which floats on the shimmering lake in mid-afternoon].

I look upon Lake Katherine. The area seems more rural than it is in reality. I gaze upon the beauty of the reflected trees, downwardly mirrored in the lake’s surface around its perimeter.

[I desire female company and physical pleasure, so I choose to become fully integrated within my dream self’s imaginary body.]

I am sitting in the canoe facing my dark-haired green-eyed gypsy dream girl. We begin to become intimate. My sense of touch is augmented. We mostly kiss for several minutes.

[I am enjoying my dream very much. My dream girl is passive and welcoming. I begin to become distracted by some sort of ambiance that extends beyond my will. It sounds somewhat like hissing.]

A large green sea serpent rises up out of the water on my left in somewhat of an “S” shape, hissing at us. It is not that close to the canoe but displaying at least ten feet of its body from the lake’s surface to the top of its head.

[The preconscious is warning me that I need to leave my dream even though I do not want to. Still, the preconscious’s lake denizen is rather silly-looking, modeled after the one in the Carl Barks “No Such Varmint” Donald Duck comic book story, though slightly more realistic and menacing, though I do not feel that threatened because I am lucid.]

I want to be more intimate with my dream girl but upon touching her, the tangibility of her forearm seems to dissipate. My dream world starts to dissolve.

[I float horizontally and upwards, my back downwards, in the higher mental realm of dissipating liminal space, annoyed by my dream being over. I can still hear the hissing to my left. The hissing turns out to be the real sound of the garden hose as my mother is watering the front flower box in real life at this time, some of the water spraying onto my closed jalousie windows.]

My spoiled dream is of no consequence. I married my dark-haired green-eyed gypsy dream girl on April 9, 1994.