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Morning of May 15, 2021. Saturday.

Dream #: 19,871-02. Optimized 2 minute read.




Note; The waking-life model is red. For the image, I made it the same as the predominant color in my dream (though there were other colors). The additional optional outer wing piece is for a torn wing feature.

My dream begins with me sitting near a river, though the water lowers over time. (This attribute has remained the same for this dream type for over 50 years. One influence is from isolation tank films I saw as a child, though it also naturally corresponds with melatonin mediation and ultradian rhythm.) Typical indoor-outdoor ambiguity (impossible to discern as such in waking life) is predominant at some points, though there is more morphing of the setting than usual. The locational inferences are unknown. I have recall of my real-life identity to the extent of where I recall I have three sons.

I think of creating a portal so that my sons can see a living pterodactyl through it. We do not intend to go through the portal but to watch different events through it.

A somatosensory phase response (a natural, predictable shift to attention on using my hands toward resolving REM atonia) becomes predominant, and there is a spontaneous flight-related association with the Aurora Pterodactyl model kit from the early 1970s. I had one when I was a boy. In this instance, the process curiously mixes with finding gold coins (also somatosensory summoning), but only as a supraliminal influence. (I do not think about panning for gold in my dream, only recovering all the pieces of a plastic pterodactyl model.)

After my sons watch a living pterodactyl through the portal (a precursor to managing the vestibular phasing of dreaming) for a few minutes, I begin finding many different sizes and colors of pieces from various fictitious versions of what is otherwise the same Aurora pterodactyl model kit.

Many parts are smaller than the waking-life kit, but there are no larger versions. I see little cyan plastic wings, but also green, blue, and other colors. There are more outer wing parts than other features. I also notice some small wing connectors; rectangular prisms. I become fascinated by their variety and study their random arrangement for several minutes. However, there is no dream segment where parts of a complete model are collected and assembled.

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Revealing dream content causation:

I continue to be fascinated by how the same processes and phasing responses (often in the same order throughout my sleep cycle) result in so many unique and engaging narratives.

This dream’s narrative is a result of my typical familiar lifelong metacognitive status and its management:

Water induction corresponds with beginning my navigation of REM sleep and is usually the first process depending on my dream’s time.

Vestibular system ambiguity (vestibular cortex phasing response) is from being in REM sleep and links to my metacognitive pursuit of mind-body reconnectivity, often with flight associations. In this instance, however, the phasing curve favors my metacognitive focus on REM atonia (physical immobility in sleep).

As is often the case, my dream focuses on managing the virtual division between dreaming and attaining wakefulness. Here, it results in a “portal” (rather than the more mundane summoning of a door) and the mental and physical duality of dreaming that is absent in real life.

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Morning of August 22, 2014. Friday.



I am looking over my two youngest sons’ toys (the boys are also in the room) which have been gathered together on the floor near the center of the room. I am not fully sure of the location. It may be the living room from Cubitis but may also be Barolin Street. There are no obvious features to go by and my in-dream perspective is not focused on the environment itself anyway. There are several plastic toy soldiers (multicolored rather than monotone) that are on a much larger vehicle (mostly which I keep facing me, where I am sitting on my knees, it seems). The vehicle also has a couple smaller vehicles in the back that are around the same scale as the toy soldiers. This seems “normal” at first regarding real-life proportions, until I later realize that the two quite different scales of vehicles would not exist at full scale in real vehicle scenarios (though I doubt in conscious afterthought that children care that much if all of their toys are all at the same scale as my dream seems to imply) I test a toy army truck at the toy soldier scale that whirs a bit, being one that goes by itself for a short distance when activated by manual movement somehow. The gear design under it seems fairly complex.

A bit later, I look at a truck that is only slightly bigger than the scale of the toy soldiers which is sitting in one section of the back of the much larger toy truck (which is on my left with the larger vehicle facing me). In a short time, the smaller vehicle is much larger, about one-quarter the size or larger of a GI Joe jeep I once had. There are then much bigger figures, about the scale of the larger plastic toy solider figures I used to have. In a way, I am also thinking of smaller versions (about two-thirds the size at this point in-dream) of the GI Joe and Johnny West dolls I had as a boy. One of the figures is a pregnant female. Her stomach opens up (being similar to a model we had at the middle school) and the womb and baby can come out in a few separate parts. The colors of the pieces, four of them, are mostly pink and blue. This last part seems to vaguely relate to a previous real-life task of trying to come up with a way to fix the small broken keyboard “leg” - which was replaced by a new one and that one in turn broke shortly after. They do not make things very well any more.

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The sky looms heavy with storm clouds, the ocean roars in seething restlessness below. I am standing at the edge of

the city, which is situated in cluttered layers. The lowest layer is one diamond patterned metal grate secured by chains. I overhear someone saying that there is another hurricane vortex forming at the base of the city and they are worried it will grow. Curiously, cautiously, I move to the edge of the grate and peer over the side. I see a swirling vortex a few hundred feet below, with each moment , the center deepens and the eye widens. I back away, suddenly the ocean rises to the underside of the grate, slapping at my feet. I grab a plastic bag that has a pair of rain boots and my cellphone as I hurry away, climbing up up to the next layer of yellow concrete. I run a few steps but feel like I'm forgetting something, so I turn to look and realize that the bag I keep my dream journal in is still down there. The roar of the water is tremendous, I drop back down and grab the bag by the strap, but it was caught underneath so when I tug on it the bag spills open. Cursing, I stuff the contents inside...and my phone slips out of the plastic bag.
I throw the strap diagonal across my chest and bend down to grab my phone, the water immediately absorbing the platform. With a surge of panicky triumph I throw myself up three more layers before the water gets me.

Here I am on the edge of lucidity, somehow the way I move my body, and the way I have my arm extended

overhead, keeps me from being submerged, I manage to surge with each new wave and stay above surface. The ocean consumes everything in great cross-hatching fluctuation. There is one extremely tall central yellow building and I progress toward it, I'm lucky enough that the water leads me to the mid-building entrance. I see it's a hotel, and many people have fled here as the roof may be the only high ground. I run up the stairs and pass by a hall with 8 elevator doors and go straight to some sort of check-in table. I kneel down in front of it and put on my boots, stuffing my phone into my satchel. I wonder if I should bother taking it with me, my journal is ruined now. I stay there for a long time, falling into a kind of distracted lull.

"What the hell am I doing?!" I think, surging to my feet, I have to get to the roof before the whole building is submerged.

I see my boyfriend swept away by a crowd of people, all headed for the elevators, a woman and her small son are at the tail of the group, all trying to press themselves into the only open elevator. I step to another one and push the button quickly several times. The doors slide open and I throw myself inside, punching the button that will take me to the roof. The elevator rises but water begins to filter in through every seam.

"Oh, of course!" I think sarcastically.

I am spat out onto the roof which is waist deep in water, there is no one else on the roof. I start swimming, noting the many ships out on the water exploding or simply sinking, then turning into dark blotches in the water. I paddle past one boat as it is bursting violently into flames and I'm worried that the oil in the water will catch fire and I'll be burned to a crisp.
I realize that I have separated from my body and am watching myself from high in the sky, and that I can choose to be above instead of in the water. So I do. My escape is that easy. I sail onward with effortless speed, the wind roaring in my ears.There are two boats not sinking, one is speeding out of view over the horizon and looks like a clipper ship. The other is a little motor boat pulling up to a fenced cliff's edge that survived the watery cataclysm. I direct myself toward it, a familiar Japanese man extends his arm to me, I reach down to take his hand and he guides me soundly to the deck.

"You're alright!" I cry, happy to see him again. With sweet amazement I realize that his boys are with him, part of me knows that

they died years ago in an accident but somehow this event has returned them to his care. Though they are extremely pale and a little grey. The youngest is three, there is a middle boy of about fourteen, and a nineteen year old. They all look so familiar but I can't figure out why. The two other boys greet me like a long lost family friend, and take turns giving me a hug before climbing to the other side of the fence with their father. He leans on the top board and tells me that the return of his boys was meant to be, then earnestly asks after my boyfriend.

"I don't know, I saw him on the sixth floor before I got in the elevator, but no one else was on the roof." I start to say that I

think he is dead, but there's a painful wrenching in my chest and I can't get the words out before I cover my face and cry.

"Maybe it wasn't meant to be?" The man asks me. I don't want to believe that though, I want him to have escaped.
"Maybe he made it to that other ship..."
"Sure, maybe." He smiles at me.

I look out over the water and on either side of it, like the banks of a river, there are great water-logged expanses of land. He explains that the waves overtook that too, but immediately began seeping away after stripping all the trees bare.

There's something about seeing many people crammed into a small space and getting ready to go on or are returning from a hunting trip, and ordering fast food. I wonder how long the stores of easy, familiar food will last and what these people will do when it runs out.

I remember this was a long dream. I remember there were several rounds of it, and it was kind of repetitive but not exact repetition. It was all about me loosing my sons over and over again. It was always either entirely or at least partially my fault, and sometimes also someone else's.

I don't remember all rounds, but in the last iteration the boys were playing somewhere in a grassy area of a city street, and my car was parked nearby with the motor running and key in ignition. A woman who in my dream was the mother of some friends of my kids, but in reality is an unknown, she started chatting with me, and she then went behind the wheel of my car and I got in the passenger seat, and she suggested that we go for a short ride while we chat, and leave the kids here, but come back to them, and I agreed. After we had been driving for a while, she realized she could not easily drive back - I think it was because of one way streets that prevented us from driving back the way we came, and the streets were not in a straight grid like many streets around where I actually live, but they were more curved and complex, more like the streets of old European cities. So in my dream the woman abandoned me or just disappeared. I abandoned my car, and started walking back to find my sons. It took a long time. Eventually I found them. They looked worse for wear, a bit dirty and dischevled, like they had been living on the street for a while. They were delighted to see me, and I them. And just when I found them, my husband found all of us to. I had no idea how he found us because I had not contacted him, and he had no way of knowing that the boys had been missing nor where we were. I had the sense that my husband was reproachful about my loosing our kids, and he had every right to be, because it was my fault.

This dream is reminiscent of a few previous dreams of mine, in which I am also lost, also with a car, and my husband in at least one of them also finds me, and I don't know how. And I also have feelings of guilt in at least one of them.