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Morning of April 1, 2017. Saturday.



I am at first floating over an early evening scene (though it is still daylight) of 1940s gangsters driving around, possibly in Chicago. Being semi-lucid, I automatically perceive the foundation of the dream state as a “blissful flood” (and have since very young), with water flowing in slowly, with beautiful vivid reflections. As water symbolizes sleep and the dream state (even as in the “Little Nemo” comic strip), I feel relaxed, even though some of the gangsters now sit on the roofs of their cars, appearing frustrated that their activities were interrupted. My semi-lucidity fades slightly and I then absentmindedly wonder if this is part of a movie where things had gone wrong with the set due to water from another set (perhaps for a Navy movie) going past a barrier.

Having been incorporeal, I now seem corporeal. The gangsters eye me suspiciously but do not seem dangerous. I ride with Zsuzsanna in a Venetian gondola, though I do not see the oarsman. Our boat slowly moves past them as they sit on the tops of their 1940s cars to our left, the water halfway up over the windows. Zsuzsanna and I are intimate as my dream moves toward the waking transition (and waking transition symbolism in contrast to dream induction symbolism).

The water seems more shallow as we go through a tunnel. At first, I am wary of going into a tunnel. It appears that some sawhorse traffic barricades fall over from water coming in from “over itself” at the end of one part of the tunnel (which makes no sense - as if the water was halfway up but somehow solid or remaining in place even at the opening (perhaps somehow jellified), with some “normal” water moving over the original level somewhat like a small waterfall).

There is light ahead and I get a very vague memory of when Pinocchio was inside a whale, though I do not think that is the case with us. “That’s it, over there,” I say as I point. There is a loose association with the television show in April of 1986 about Al Capone’s vaults (“The Mystery of Al Capone’s Vaults”).

A young Geraldo Rivera sits on straw on a slightly damp surface inside a larger hollow area. He has a bottle of wine (possibly meant to represent the sole bottle of bathtub gin originally found in the vault). I look very closely at the bottle of wine because there is writing on it. I need to read it and understand its meaning. The brand name of the wine seems to be “Cortex”.

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Even though the preconscious (when it is personified) is almost always a different character, it is easily recognizable by additional clues (often either direct or subliminal identification as the waking prompt and the particular level of consciousness just prior to waking, as the role of the preconscious is to make the dreamer more aware of the fallacy of his temporarily skewed dream self identity and bringing the dreamer out of the dream state) as well as mood, shift in the clarity of a dream, and dominance in many cases. In this case, the common water induction transmutes to the waking symbolism. “Cortex” is a direct clue; “the outer layer of the cerebrum, composed of folded grey matter and playing an important role in consciousness”.

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Morning of February 17, 2017. Friday.



During water induction (my most consistent form of autosymbolism for dream state entry, as water is autosymbolism for sleep and the dynamics of the dream state), I find myself in the shower on the second floor of the King Street boarding house. I get the impression that I am still living in the L-shaped room at the end of the hall (though I have not lived there since the 1980s). A young version of Zsuzsanna (who has never been to America let alone King Street) is in my apartment at the end of the hall. The opaque sliding door of the shower is halfway open. Zsuzsanna walks around in my apartment. Curiously, both the south bathroom wall is missing as well as my apartment’s north wall, so the shower can be viewed directly from that apartment. (Missing walls as well as the ability to see through otherwise solid walls is a fairly common feature in my dreams and has been since early childhood. This is associated with the “mystery girl” of my dreams having lived in a house with missing exterior walls. This turned out to be true regardless of its high unlikelihood; that is, Zsuzsanna lived at one time as a child in an incomplete house with missing exterior walls in an area of New South Wales called Heaven.)

I realize that I still have clothes on. This is very annoying and I take them off, but they are somehow on again later. I also notice a pair of tennis shoes near the end of the bathtub. These apparently belong to a very old man who comes in to get them and he soon leaves without speaking. While still showering, I begin to get more annoyed at having to remove my clothes more than once (but that does not trigger the realization I am dreaming).

Somehow, several unfamiliar people end up in the shower with me (though of course there would not be enough room in reality), and I can barely move. This soon changes though, as part of the typical illogical sequencing of the dream state. I eventually notice that part of the east wall (directly beyond the end of the bathtub) is also not present. An older version of Zsuzsanna is making sounds of arousal but I can only see her from just above her knees and downward.

The north wall (adjacent to the bathtub) also seems to not be present. There seems to be a mostly featureless room, but which may also be part of the same bathroom as there is a drain in the floor.

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Becoming annoyed in a dream at the realization that I am wearing clothes has occurred since childhood (not just with shower dreams or those where I am in bed, though my non-lucid dream self most often does not focus on whether I am dressed or not anyway). There are a number of reasons for this. One, the association with being embarrassed with the idea of “sleeping in my clothes”, which is proof of liminal dream state awareness (as why would my dream self associate with the idea I am sleeping unless I was somehow liminally aware I was in the dream state, even though with liminal dream control I do not even remember what a dream is). Two, this sometimes throws off my association with phasing through walls or flying up and out of a dream (only being aware that it is a dream in the last moments - though as if I subliminally knew the entire time). The idea I am wearing clothes occasionally interferes with my association with being incorporeal, or in some cases, even with a greater corporeal full-body flying ability. There are other reasons depending on the dream type. In the majority of my more vivid flying dreams (not always lucid) I am only in a bed sheet or cloak. Ultimately, it is natural to have dreams of not wearing clothes, as I do not sleep in my clothes. Wearing clothes in a dream is an unusual distortion caused by the lack of awareness of the self in unconsciousness and its actual physical status (unless one is dressed while sleeping, though the weight of a bed sheet probably causes this distortion in most cases).

Regarding my dream’s cause and meaning, this is simply a typical form of RAS mediation and modulation as the waking alert factor, often activated by way of the preconscious and its personification and the sense of intrusion. As my dream self in non-lucidity is a fictitious entity, any perceived link to my conscious self identity in waking life in some levels of unconsciousness can potentially be viewed as an “intruder” (just as someone half-asleep might perceive an environmental sound, even a noise made by a family member, as liminal evidence of an “intruder”). This is one of those common factors of dreams of which many people cannot grasp at all.

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Morning of February 14, 2017. Tuesday.

Dream #: 18,320-02. Reading time: 50 sec.



In the late morning, Zsuzsanna and I are looking over our front yard. It is in Cubitis rather than our present address. (Zsuzsanna has never been to America or Cubitis where I had not lived since age seventeen.)

The lawn needs mowing, but I am first cleaning up debris. I eventually notice what I first think is a transparent rubber ball (of the kind sold in small vending machines, sometimes with sparkles or a small plastic figure inside). It feels like one when I pick it up. I think it is a rubber ball our children left on the lawn. It is sparsely speckled on its surface. Eventually, there are several of them that have at least two large triangular dents on opposite sides as if partly squashed. I decide they are possibly something else, perhaps a natural anomaly.

I tell Zsuzsanna and our two youngest sons they are probably eggs (though possibly oversized frog eggs). Perhaps the “rubber balls” with the dents are ones that had hatched. I start to gather them up.

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The life cycle of a frog is analogous to the initiation and waking transition of the dream state. It is an autosymbolic analogy to the tadpole (non-lucid dream self beginning a dream) to frog (emerging consciousness).

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Morning of January 20, 2017. Friday.



I am in kind of a groggy state within the dream state though I am clearly aware that I am in our bed, though my head is in the opposite direction as to how we sleep in reality. I am on my left side facing south. Near my head is what I perceive to be some sort of writings relating possibly to educational tasks and scholastic writing.

Near the center of our bed, where I see our mattress has no sheet over it, are a couple toy earth movers. It seems they may actually be down in the mattress a little bit (possibly due to a tear in the mattress material) but the toys do not move on their own at any point. I do not move much and I am aware that Zsuzsanna is standing near our bed.

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Astoundingly, this very basic dream sign inclusive of a dreaming metaphor (directly and redundantly symbolic of exploring the unconscious or sorting through memories while asleep) has never happened in this particular way to my knowledge. The journal and writing is probably more so related to my dream journal.

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Morning of January 14, 2017. Saturday.



I am in La Crosse and in the house next door to the King Street boarding house. There is some sort of party going on, possibly a high school graduation party, and it is at night. Zsuzsanna is there but as a teenager though is the only person I recognize. See seems a bit tired and I ask her if she wants to sleep in my bed (which turns out to be at an unknown residence but implied to be where I live). It feels as if we have not been together as a married couple yet, though she is passive towards me.

We walk northwest from the house until we come to my fictional red 1922 Phaeton (a “dream car” that has not featured in my dreams for quite some time) in a commercial district. Its appearance is different as if perhaps an older model and its top is down. Curiously, there does not seem to be a steering wheel, though this does not serve to be a deterrent. I tell her to get in the car and I sit in the area behind where the steering wheel should be. As is often the case, I have difficulty in trying to fit in the vehicle. Still, after some adjustments (where the car even seems to expand slightly), it works out okay.

We end up in an unfamiliar bedroom. A playful lion cub is present and so is a puppy (though the puppy of which I do not see much and which does not go onto the bed as the lion cub does). The lion cub makes small messes over the entire bed (to a very unrealistic extent) and I tell Zsuzsanna that I have to take the top blanket off and I am somewhat annoyed. It does not seem unusual to have either a puppy or a lion cub in my (fictional) house.

• The appearance of the red 1922 Phaeton goes all the way back to early childhood, when I dreamt my father was a car.
• I have not been on King Street since January 1994. I did not know any people who lived in the house next to the boarding house though I did paint some of the inside for the owner.
• The lion is a recurring waking prompt and coalescence symbol (as it can swallow the dreamer back into whole consciousness) and is also a type of dream sign (as from the 1897 “Sleeping Gypsy” painting by Henri Rousseau). Here however, it is only a cub, but the obvious dream sign of the bed already serves as a waking transition factor. This specific rendering is a connection with having to wake up to use the bathroom.
• The missing steering wheel is an invitation to lucidity (and implies liminal dream state awareness), whereby the car is my dream “vehicle” as an extension of my physical body (which is also called a “vehicle”) in sleep but without an active conscious self awareness as in normal lucid dreams to “steer” my dream with a more viable conscious choice (though liminal dream control occurs with me very often - I am just not aware I am dreaming). I am still able to resolve the beginning intent to a point. A car with no steering wheel also correlates with vestibular system dynamics and the liminal awareness of the inability to control the physical body while sleeping.
• Even though bed dream signs are quite common in my dreams (and always have been since early childhood), I rarely pick up on them directly for active lucidity, though a bed implies the waking space of a dream (liminal awareness of being asleep).

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Morning of January 11, 2017. Wednesday.



I find myself with my wife Zsuzsanna. We are sitting on a small beach-like area and are outside enjoying the nighttime scenery. However, to our left is an unknown male and female in their bed in some sort of distorted and bilocated corner of a bedroom (though every other dream aspect implies we are outside). Even though they are in bed, they are also working as tourist guides (and seemingly are a married couple in their late twenties).

Looking out over the ocean, I see a small island. This small island is supposedly a part of Germany. I see the Reichstag building, which directly faces us. Oddly, right behind this, is Big Ben, though only about a third as tall as it should be. I am clearly aware that this is an amazing sight that can only be appreciated from our present location. We somehow see a feature of Germany, and right behind it, a feature of the UK (which is of course ridiculous, but I am only vaguely puzzled by the sight). We continue to appreciate this beautiful scene. I sit on Zsuzsanna’s left, holding her hand. The imagery is very vivid and I watch the motions of the ocean’s surface. Other than the tourist guides in their bed, who gave us a brochure in the first segment, we are the only people present. The moonlight on the water is beautiful.

I consider that I am not fully certain of where we are. Again, I know that the little island is a part of Germany though we ourselves are apparently nowhere near Germany (even though we could probably swim to the islands from where we are sitting). Just beyond that is the UK which is also a tiny island with Big Ben being the only discernible UK feature at this distance. I reason that we are probably either in Hawaii or California though this is not certain.

I start to realize that we have traveled from the future into this past, which is 1969. In fact, it must be July 24, 1969 due to what happens next (at least in part). The tourist guides do not seem to be all that alarmed by this fact and simply hand us another brochure. There is a short conversation about the differences between certain landmarks in 1969 and 2016 (and thus my dream self is not aware it is 2017).

A helicopter flies overhead in the night sky in the opposite direction from where the bilocated bed is. From this helicopter falls the Apollo 11 spacecraft, its parachutes immediately opening, the craft seeming a bit larger than it should be. I expect that it will probably explode and it does. It explodes into a massive fireworks display, debris flying everywhere over a dense forest. (This makes no sense of course, as the spacecraft actually came through Earth’s atmosphere, not dropped from a helicopter.)

From the debris of Apollo 11 in the dense isolated forest beyond (to our right) comes two white robotic Etch-a-Sktech-like devices. They somehow end up being near Zsuzsanna and I even though they have no visible legs of any kind yet came a fair distance. The ocean water level goes down by a fair amount. I am wary of one of the devices even though they are nearly identical. Even though I know that one is ours, I reason that the other belongs to the tourist guides and may have some sort of security function that does not want people from the future in the vicinity. However, I then begin to realize that 1969 probably does not have the technology to detect people from the future even though our device is detecting these people from the past and recognizing the setting as 1969. The original scene over the ocean becomes some sort of large computer screen featuring some sort of spreadsheet imagery. The setting seems to have more of an indoor feel at this point.

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• The common dream state indicator of the bilocated bed, especially the tourist guide couple, are an obvious play on “traveling while asleep”, a direct reference to dreaming. The other married couple are a projection of Zsuzsanna and I being asleep and dreaming at the time.
• The clock tower (Big Ben, which refers to the bell, which symbolizes the wake-up call) is a more dominant circadian rhythms feature, “overseeing the water” (sleep cycle: During sleep, the flow of cerebrospinal fluid in the brain increases dramatically, washing away harmful waste proteins that build up between brain cells during waking hours). A tower also symbolizes emergent consciousness (the conscious self identity being above the fictional dream setting).
• The ocean waters lower (sleeping and the dream state ebbs since water represents the dynamics of sleep in real time), the setting slowly transforming from outdoors to indoors; a typical waking transition.
• The return flight feature explodes in this case by my (non-lucid) expectation, though this implies a thread of instinctual dream control.
• The preconscious is here a threatening white robotic Etch-a-Sketch that apparently can teleport, which is about as weird as it gets. Even so, it (and the spreadsheet) is a reminder of conscious self identity, as only the conscious self with its critical thinking skills can create and utilize viable technology and perceive written communication for a sustained time period.
• The Apollo 11 parachutes are a type of dream sign and are analogous to pillowcases, as I sometimes am irritated with trying to fit a pillowcase back on a pillow prior to sleeping or sometimes wake up with the pillowcase off.

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Morning of January 5, 2017. Thursday.



My wife and family and I are living back on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. When the mail goes, there are several items. I firstly focus on a large package.

The package turns out to contain a book we did not order or expect to get, possibly because of being members of a book-of-the-month club. It is a very large and thick book with shiny gilded pages with the title of “Return of the Fairy Tale”. It seemingly includes fairy tales as well as poems and folk tales. I read one poem as our youngest daughter listens (though I cannot recall its content). I am not sure if we should keep the book as I seem to remember that Zsuzsanna has an older edition of the same book. We look for it and it is found near the bottom of her wardrobe. I ask her if we should keep the new edition we just received and it seems that we will. The older edition has a slightly different cover but is about the same size.

After this, I go onto our porch to look at our other mail. There are two postcards from Margaret. In one, she starts off by talking about seeing her “pale face” looking back at her (from a mirror I assume). She writes that she is sorry to hear about my sister (Marilyn).

Apparently, I had also written to a man in India of whom I had not written to in over twenty years. I had asked him about his address (which makes no sense because if I did not know his address he likely would not have gotten my letter). On his postcard, in somewhat sloppy handwriting, he only writes:

“I do not remember my other address. I would like a comfy.”

I am not sure what he means by “comfy”; if he means a footrest or some sort of apparel. (In real life years ago he had asked me to send him auto repair books and I did not have any.)

I also notice a couple loose letters which are older love letters from Zsuzsanna though I am puzzled as to why they are with the recent mail. One letter includes a couple drawings. I had been sitting on the left end of the couch on the porch (liminal space) during this last segment.

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• The fifteen rupee tiger stamp is a sublimated coalescence prompt (as a tiger can swallow the dream self back into full consciousness) and additionally, mail usually symbolizes communication between the dream self and either the conscious self identity or the collective unconscious. Even so, and even containing the same dreaming and waking metaphors (and overall meaning) since earliest childhood, this dream’s rendering is unique.
• Regardless of the nature of the book, a book usually links to conscious self identity (and critical thinking skills that are not wholly feasible in non-lucid dreams). Gilded pages relate to dawning awareness and sentience (as sunbeams coming in through a bedroom window).
• The other book being in the wardrobe is a dream sign, as Zsuzsanna gets clothes from her wardrobe shortly after waking.
• Most dreams, when waking prompts are not more direct or jolting, are to subliminally inform the dreamer to wake as in this case. This same “call to waking” (waking transition with waking metaphors) can be seen in tens of thousands of my dreams documented and studied over fifty years, and in very specific layered (redundant) ways (and often “no-brainers” that I easily grasped as a child).
• Even “comfy” can be considered a dream sign, as it can refer to pillows and being in bed.
• Even the line about not remembering the other address is a direct reference to the amnesic nature of the personified subconscious (dream self).

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Morning of December 20, 2016. Tuesday.



Zsuzsanna and I are “sleeping” in a tent (in the same orientation as in reality; her on my left) in what is apparently an unfamiliar urban park (though with a vague association with the field that used to be across the street from our present home) early in the morning around sunrise. I become wary of the gaps at the bottoms of the sides of the tent (mostly to my right, near my head) in their offering of less privacy. It is also windy at times. In the final scene, the tent is actually hovering above the ground and directly above us, the bottoms of the sides probably about four feet above the ground. I think a few ropes are still holding it in place. My clueless non-lucid dream self is not standing at any point.

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This is typical RAS (reticular activating system) intrusive waking symbolism, though sustained and with no hypnopompic physical event.

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Key concepts: Zsuzsanna and I sleeping in correct orientation as first level dream state indicator, dream state indicator of indirect association with floating or flying as dictated by natural inner ear dynamics, outdoor area previously a field and now a parking lot in real life as liminal space transition, sustained RAS factor, no personified preconscious, no direct preconscious factor, non-lucid and sustained non-cooperative emergent consciousness, interpretable as waking symbolism only.

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Morning of December 3, 2016. Saturday.



In the hour before dawn, I find myself in an unfamiliar setting. It is a parking lot of which may be that of a restaurant. A 1969 bronze green Land Rover Series IIA Station Wagon is the only vehicle present in the semi-darkness. Areas beyond the parking lot and building remain indiscernible.

Two unknown Caucasian males of about forty, wearing sage safari jackets, are attempting to coax two male lions into the back of their Land Rover. My dream self does not consider how foolhardy or unlikely this is, including the probable lack of space for the lions inside their vehicle. I do not feel threatened by the presence of the lions.

Over time, one of the men somehow manages to get one of the lions into the Land Rover and onto the back seat. A short time passes and I no longer see the man. The other lion is eventually behind the Land Rover. I begin to get the impression that a lion will swallow the remaining man, which may have been the fate of the other man. I begin to feel somewhat wary but not in immediate danger. The other man is standing near the back of the Land Rover and I am viewing the scene from the front of the Land Rover, to its right side.

Just as the lion that is still outside the Land Rover seems to consider perhaps killing or swallowing the man, non-lucid dream control begins…

The male lion transforms into my wife Zsuzsanna. She is wearing a long white flowing gown. The man seems to disappear as Zsuzsanna approaches me to give me a hug. Joyful coalescence is the waking factor.

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My dream is clearly explained here in a more detailed resupplementation (rewritten on Friday, 22 June 2018):

The outcome of this dream is that the reticular activating system modulation factor (the lion) transforms into the emergent consciousness factor (my wife Zsuzsanna) because of non-lucid dream control (because of my advanced understanding of the dream state since early childhood). A lion’s essence in the dream state is an autosymbolic composite of two factors. The main factor is coalescence. (This means that I see a lion as having the potential to swallow my illusory dream self back into whole consciousness). The lesser factor, as with a domestic cat, is being “witness” to the dream state and the nature of liminal space. You will see the same autosymbolic processing factors in hundreds of my online entries, but always unique.

The parking lot setting is a common form of autosymbolism for a specific level of consciousness during the waking transition as a result of subliminal association with the physical body being inactive while asleep. (In contrast, moving vehicles represent a liminal awareness of vestibular system correlation concerning the physical body while asleep.) The Land Rover is an autosymbolic association with my physical body, as most singular vehicles are in dreams. Ultimately, the parking lot’s autosymbolic nature lacks the more defined anticipatory factor of the waking process and suggests a subliminal desire for returning to deeper sleep (and as such, serves as ultradian rhythm autosymbolism).

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These are the layered causes of this dream:

The television series “Daktari”, which originally aired from 1966 to 1969.

Clarence, the Cross-Eyed Lion, from the aforementioned “Daktari” series. (I was sometimes called “Clarence, the Cross-Eyed Lion” in elementary school. This was solely because my middle name is Clarence.)

Early childhood dreams of my dream girl in a flowing white gown, originally influenced by “Isle of the Dead”, a 1945 Boris Karloff horror film, certain scenes of which fascinated me in a romantic sense, rather than frightening me, at age four.

Erin Moran, as in the aforementioned “Daktari” series, resembled my real-life schoolmate, friend, and neighbor, Brenda. My first known euphoric waking transition, also the result of a hug, featured Brenda in the final scene. This astounded me and, because I was only eight at the time, I did not know what it was biologically until a few years later. Brenda was also validated as the prescient stand-in for my wife Zsuzsanna when my dream girl was not more efficiently rendered (that is, looking and sounding exactly like Zsuzsanna before we knew of each other in waking life).

“The Sleeping Gypsy”, an 1897 oil painting by French Naïve artist Henri Rousseau. Rousseau described his painting as follows: “A wandering Negress, a mandolin player, lies with her jar beside her (a vase with drinking water), overcome by fatigue in a deep sleep. A lion chances to pass by, picks up her scent yet does not devour her. There is a moonlight effect, very poetic.”

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In decoding my dream, the autosymbolic dreaming and waking processes reveal the following sequence: Brief contemplation of “Daktari”, my childhood dream of hugging Brenda, subliminal awareness of being asleep, emerging awareness of my conscious self identity and that I am sleeping with Zsuzsanna, liminal recall of “The Sleeping Gypsy” mixed with romantic non-lucid dream modulation related to “Isle of the Dead” (and its analogy to being in the dream state), liminal perception of my wife as a “sleeping gypsy” (as she is Hungarian Romani), and finally, transmutation of the lion of coalescence (being “swallowed” into waking consciousness) to euphoric coalescence (being hugged, which is a more positive analogy of being “swallowed”), which is otherwise of the same autosymbolic foundation.

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Morning of November 19, 2016. Saturday.



The roads are lightly flooded, though not to an extent that makes Toby’s driving problematic. Toby cheerfully talks of continuing to drive straight on the present road to where we may be arriving at a shopping mall, though he turns left instead after giving information to a traffic cam that he will not be turning. This puzzles me and I am not sure of his motive. I consider that he may not like the idea of being tracked by GPS and may believe that what he said will somehow fool the cam despite the GPS.

We go up a gradient after turning left and of which is somehow more flooded than the main road and turn off, which of course is not possible as the water would flow downward. The sense of motion in going through the shallow water is very relaxing and peaceful.

Soon, Toby is suddenly near a building in the distance, as if he had teleported from his car. There are a few times after this scene when the car seems to be driving itself. It is my task each time to bring the car to Toby. The very lightly flooded streets bring a sense of calmness to the location, though there is a slight annoyance at times over Toby teleporting from the car while driving and then us having to find him to take his car to him. At one point, he even seems slightly annoyed when he teleports to the end of a street and has to wait for us to bring his car to him.

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Understanding the real reasons for dream features and events:

My dream state initiation autosymbolism for this dream is water induction, my most common form, at least one dream per sleep cycle for over fifty years, as water is autosymbolism (as well as an auto-scripting factor from an understanding of the dream state) for the essence of sleep, muscular release, and the absence of emotion in unconsciousness.

Toby is the driver and in this case is my personified unconscious (which is not as common as the personified preconscious for biological reasons, as most people naturally fall asleep but in contrast require RAS mediation or RAS modulation to wake), and as we are moving through water, it is autosymbolism for my physical body requiring more sleep, as it is not fully a boat. Toby being the driver has no waking life significance in this case and is rendered as a deeper induction thread, as I have not seen him in real life since we were teenagers. (In fact, Toby is rendered as such because he does not represent a factor of waking life, to prevent flawed neural gating and false memory association.)

Is turning left and going up a gradient significant? Yes, as typically autosymbolism being oriented to the left is reinduction (when I sleep on my left side). However, going up implies an emergent consciousness factor. As a result, the traffic cam can only represent RAS mediation itself, and the water being illogically deeper higher up is based on a subliminal attempt to suppress the emergent consciousness factor. My dream plays out a skewed reinduction loop, somewhat like the opposite of a false awakening. My body wants to sleep more deeply, but there are subliminal environmental or biological distractions. That is basically all this dream signifies. Thank you for reading. Anything that you feel needs additional explaining, feel free to ask.

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Morning of November 18, 2016. Friday.



I non-lucidly become aware of being in the northeast bedroom of the Loomis Street house in La Crosse. (This means that my synaptic gating has held my memory of having fallen asleep, but not held my memory of my current location, thus my dream self accepts this erroneous location as current. In my dream, I have no focus on any relatives who lived here. I had not lived here since February 1994.)

No east window is present, an error my dream self does not regard as incorrect. (This is due to synaptic liminal space gating being closed at this point and also why Zsuzsanna appears in my dream with me but as a younger incorrect rendering. Thus far, there are two literal threads, memory of having fallen asleep and partial recall of Zsuzsanna.)

Over time, I slowly become aware of the evidence of an unthreatening haunting, which firstly only relates to marks appearing on the east wall, though it eventually seems like writing. This supposed ghost seems more like the real Zsuzsanna, though I am not directly aware of this fact in my dream. (This means that factors of my emergent consciousness are becoming active by way of RAS mediation. Threads of recall of who Zsuzsanna really is are becoming more dominant as I grow closer to waking. Well-known lifelong autosymbolism is rendered; “a wall as a liminal space divider”; that is, the precursory synaptic gating between dream self identity and conscious self identity. “Ghost writing” is utilized by way of RAS to augment language and reading skills, which typically do not viably exist in the non-lucid dream state.)

Eventually, I go outside via the Loomis Street house’s back door, though I am then in the backyard of the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane. My dream self does not consider this impossible location change as erroneous or worthy of attention. (Synaptic gating has brought about a focus on a more recent location I had lived, but not my current address or viable conscious self identity.)

There is a shed in the backyard which is similar to the Loomis Street house’s shed although it is also associated with the shed at our present address but mirrored. (A shed is typically autosymbolism for a specific type of memory recall and storage.)

It seems to be early morning at this time. The haunting continues, in two-dimensional dynamics, on the outer wall of the shed that faces the back of the house (west, relative to the Stadcor Street house). The ghost seems to remain contained within the wall, but she communicates with writing and eventually speech. (This means that my emergent consciousness is becoming more active than before to where more viable threads of my physical status of being in bed with Zsuzsanna are extant.)

A few random unknown people are eventually present near the shed. I notice that the ghost now has the power to direct lightning into the television antenna. I say “look at that” and point. Long thin bolts of lightning intriguingly jump about on the antenna. This causes me to feel somewhat wary. I think that the ghost may now become three-dimensional and perhaps even emerge from the television by going through the antenna and into the house. (This is autosymbolism for the waking transition in my dream’s final stage. It indicates subliminal awareness of Zsuzsanna’s neural energy as metaphorically coalescing with mine - I use “metaphorically” for people who cannot accept the existence of telepathy. The antenna is autosymbolism for serotonin receptors as well as synaptic efficacy. This is very similar autosymbolism as in dreams such as “Not my Fault”, a childhood dream from May 1971.)

This type of haunting dream stems from the biological factor of being unconscious, though perception of vestibular system ambiguity is minimal here (as there is no association with flying, falling, or other implied movement). The reason for this dream, along with its meaning, has been validated in its correlation with thousands of occurrences of identical autosymbolism in RAS mediation in dreams since early childhood.

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Morning of November 10, 2016. Thursday.



I am in a van being driven by my brother-in-law Bob. Most of my family members are with me in the back except for Lorenzo (middle son). Looking to my left, I see that an unfamiliar female passenger in another vehicle (probably a van as a car would be lower) somehow holds onto the top of the driver’s side window of Bob’s van, which I think is a very foolish thing to do. (This seems to be a preconscious factor, at least potentially, but the situation eventually fades.) The vehicle has four chubby and aggressive females, probably in their late thirties. My brother-in-law does not respond. I eventually yell at them. They soon drive on ahead.

We eventually arrive at an unfamiliar shopping mall near a mountainous area. It now suddenly shifts to nighttime, around eight o'clock. I suddenly feel concerned that Lorenzo is not with us, as I feel he should not be left alone (at our house) for the two or so hours we will probably be here (seemingly for shopping and a movie). I decide to quickly fly back to make sure he is okay, though on one level, I feel silly about flying all the way back after just arriving here, as it apparently took a long time for Bob to drive out here. However, because a parking lot symbolizes liminal space (a higher state between dreaming and waking), I somehow get “stuck” right on the perimeter. I am flying but not making much forward progress (a very rare event for me, but I have rarely attempted flight over a parking lot in dreams). I almost manage to fly above the roof of a nearby house. Instead, I decide to teleport to my bed (false awakening) and I am glad I am now able to check on Lorenzo.

Almost immediately, I am with Lorenzo and the rest of our family in the front yard in Cubitis. It now seems early afternoon. It seems there are several people trespassing, close to the bedroom windows. I get angry but my family and I end up leaving, walking southward (with no destination in mind). I shout several rude remarks back at them as well as making rude gestures. They do not seem intimidated. Curiously, they are mostly all seated on the ground in formal meditation positions, including an unknown toddler (male). I get the impression that the oldest male (about sixty), who is thin and wearing coveralls, had been working on a car, but I do not see a car anywhere.

Soon, I am walking with Zsuzsanna and an unknown female with dark short hair. As we walk along, there is mention of the van event that occurred in the first part of my dream (as this female apparently had trouble with the four from the vehicle as well). I eventually enter a very subtle lucidity, but not active lucidity. This is where I am not lucid but manifest, mostly through pretense at first, the idea of a secret area to explore (commonly recurring since early childhood).

Even though it is mostly an outside area, we come to floor-length curtains (subtle lucidity sign, akin to going onto a stage). Going through the beige curtains, we enter some sort of secret abandoned park with a zoo theme. I am at first somewhat startled by a male and female lion (just to my left and past a doorway we come out from), and I am concerned for a short time that they may jump over the fence. However I soon realize that they are animatronic animals that have not been maintained for a long time as some of the sections of fur are missing and metal and plastic can be seen through certain areas. We continue along a beautiful garden path. The sidewalk, always with a continuous hedge on each side, turns at ninety degree offsets fairly often, but is not really maze-like. Although I am aware of several other animatronic animals, I do not see them due to dense shrubbery. I feel very happy and relaxed.

We somehow end up in a kitchen, which is a little like the one on Stadcor Street. I am, for a short time, aware of a group of people walking by outside the large windows, but I do not actually see them through the curtains. I only hear them and they seem cheerful. There are soon unusual implications in the immediate setting. I see the year 2002 on a small calendar magnet on the refrigerator as well as seeing it on a couple documents. Zsuzsanna and the other female do not seem to “realize” the implications. To me, based on seeing “2002”, it seems like we are in the present. I feel that there is a pretense that the park had been closed for many years even though the date (false assumption) reflects the present (and even though by dream implications we are fourteen years in the past). Still, I feel a sense of harmony and peace.

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Being in the kitchen in the last scene represents light hunger during sleep. A lion is often the coalescence factor (return to consciousness) as it can swallow the imaginary dream self (and is an association with “The Sleeping Gypsy” 1897 oil painting). The curtains were the same color as the lions, so this was a type of subliminal expectation, though the lions turned out to be mechanical (and not any sort of threat) in this case. My puzzling over the date and not knowing the present year is quite common in my dreams. The personified subconscious (dream self) has no concept or understanding of time in the majority of my non-lucid dreams. For example, I am often much younger or in a different or mixed up time period that combines different time periods. I do not like conflicts or conflict-related challenges in dreams, though the preconscious biologically needs to be aggressive to push the dreamer to activate waking (via RAS) even though coalescence consent (such as hugging a dream character as also has recurred since childhood) would be much better, though the personified subconscious (dream self) typically sees the preconscious state as a threat (especially when there is a subliminal desire to sleep longer), both with negative daybreak types (or end of the world events) and various forms that chase the dreamer, rather than allowing time to indulge in sustained dream exploration as here.

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Morning of September 17, 2016. Saturday.



I am with my wife Zsuzsanna looking at a smoother version of Google Maps that is almost like watching clear film footage. The view is being shown as if driving down Highway Seventeen (now called Cubitis Avenue). I show her where Harold M lives, going south at first, although the orange grove is gone. I see the new fence near where I used to live.

After a time, I am on the scene without giving my transition much notice. I appear to be just south of my old home, but it seems to be gone. In fact, the entire area seems empty except for one shed closer to the highway. The area seems shaped somewhat like an elongated right triangle. I tell someone else how “my house is gone”. However, a short time later, I notice it is actually there, though appears to be some sort of greeting card store with the entrance to the south (rather than west). Although this puzzles me, I have a interest in continuing north to see how things have changed.

I somehow end up at an unfamiliar travel agency in a tall building, near a long counter on the north end of a small room that also features a tall postcard rack, though I am not really interested in a brochure someone gives me. I am now trying to find my way out of the building. I try to go through a doorway, but it seems it is not actually a doorway because it is too narrow for anyone to go through and is more like an open corner of two truncated walls with a narrow glass and metal window. I ask an older businessman how to get out of the building and he points to a flight of steps just to my left. I soon see that one can go either up or down from here. The steps going down appear to lead to an enclosed parking area. I try going up but decide it is probably going to be too steep. I decide to use the front entrance, where I should have left through in the first place.

I soon end up in a similar situation in what seems like a restaurant. This time I decide to go down a flight of stairs but I do it by sitting down and then sliding down on my backside. There is an unfamiliar woman with her young daughter and they also use the stairs but the woman seems confused about where she is going. “Get back here,” she says to her daughter, because the bottom of the stairs opens out into an enclosed street, which I then follow into an outside area. Even though using a flight of stairs in a dream shifts my consciousness in a more perceptible way, I do not become lucid.

I go past an automobile repair shop and filling station. There are four young men, perhaps only about nineteen or twenty years of age, who are working on a car. I think one of them is Brenda W’s younger brother Albert. I then realize that would be ridiculous since he would be around fifty years old by now. Still, he and the others seem cheerful and happy to see me even though I am probably a total stranger to these four. I then decide that I will actually look for Brenda.

“Do you know where Brenda lives?” I ask, giving her full name. They nod happily and say they will show me. Along the way, I notice it now seems late at night. Apparently she still lives in the same house she has all her life. I follow them northward. After a time, instead of four mechanics, they transform into mimes, even being dressed differently with no discernible changing-of-clothes event. I do not really regard this absurd change. They circle around me while making exaggerated up-and-down wing motions with their arms as if they were birds (which in fact is a tertiary dream sign due to the movie and cartoon gag of the circling of birds around the head of someone who has been knocked unconscious, though I do not catch this very obvious clue). They also pretend to be scuba divers and competitive swimmers as we continue along. Eventually, they all hold out their hands close to me as if expecting me to give them coins for their performances.

When we reach Brenda’s driveway when it now seems to be late morning after being late at night moments before, I give one of them fifty cents; two shiny American quarters. He tells me to follow the path to house number eight. They go on their way as I very soon see a metal screen door with the number eight written on it in black with a felt pen. I also see the numbers nine and ten written on the door with a felt pen, but those numbers have a diagonal line (which slopes down to the left) through them (to invalidate their previous implied usage as the house number it seems.

I see Brenda through the window of the screen door. She is sitting in an armchair. To my right, I curiously see, through a row of windows, a row of open bags of cement, gravel, and sand sitting inside the house but I do not think it to be that unusual. They are vertically propped up against the windows on my side so that I mostly only see the tops.

“You can just keep going on to the next house,” she says in her Southern accent and with undisguised sarcasm. She seems younger than she would actually be; about forty. Still, she slowly recognizes me and as she opens the door as I am still standing on the outside steps, I tell her how I am married to a wonderful woman and have five children. This is strange because I still do not have an iota of lucidity. I tell her that I am sorry for not telling her more about things when we were younger. We embrace, but it is not sexual in any way, more as a simple acknowledgement and preconsciousness to waking consciousness transition in liminal space.

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Brenda was usually a verified “stand-in” for my soulmate (Zsuzsanna) regardless of our real-life relationship. She sometimes formed half of a composite when my “mystery girl” was not more clearly defined as Zsuzsanna (before I met her). This dream seems unusual (especially after all this time) as she mostly seems to represent herself as well as my preconscious personification where she only appeared as such in my childhood dreams, and one dream of 1991 just prior to finding out my “mystery girl” (Zsuzsanna) was actually a real person with appearance, unlikely accent, birth date, birth location, and every single nuance (including unlikely mixed ethnicity) being the same since seen in dreams from earliest memory.

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I am slightly puzzled over the bags of cement. They appear near windows and may be a dream sign due to their resemblance to the shape of a pillow (thus could be a play on my pillow being subliminally perceived as being too hard or not of “perfect” comfort). However, gravel, cement, and dry sand sometimes represent low-level dehydration. It could be a mix of both, though I was atypically thirsty when I woke.

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Morning of September 14, 2016. Wednesday.



I am using a notebook computer as well as accessing the Internet in an unfamiliar residence which is apparently where my family and I live. Our oldest daughter is present at one point and she is also using her computer. The large room does not have much furniture and I am seated on the floor, my daughter also seated on the floor on the other side of the room. The common distortion of somehow “using the Internet” in an actual notepaper notebook occurs (where images sometimes move on the paper, though not in every such dream, and in this case, actual type appears rather than handwriting).

I try to search for the term “Ghost Riders in the Sky”. I seem to have forgotten how to perform a search, at least in a more feasible manner. I type “Ghost Riders in the Sky” with a small keyboard so that it appears on the notebook paper. I then move the computer mouse across the notebook paper to near the top of the page and watch the image of the print move in line with the mouse. I seem to remember that by doing this, it activates the search. However, nothing happens. I then reason that one has to move the computer mouse more quickly so that it creates a sort of “momentum” as the print on the paper is then somehow “flung” into a virtual but unseen search engine box on the surface of the paper. I cannot seem to do it correctly. I reason that there must be a virtual impetus setting (for the computer mouse) of plus or minus and in a context menu but I cannot remember where it is.

I ask my daughter if she can get the search function to work on her computer. She seems to discover that the search function is offline and informs me of this. Still, I decide to try a different computer, which I recall is in a different room off to my right. There is a very large rectangular wooden table that holds six computer workstations (the narrower end of the table parallel to the doorway), both towers and desktops, each with a large CRT monitor, which are arranged as three facing outward on each side.

I decide to use the middle workstation on one side of the table; the side where the doorway is then to my left. The search still does not seem to be working after I type in the phrase “Ghost Riders in the Sky”. I notice that the USB cable that is required for the search function to work is at an angle, halfway out of the electrical outlet (which is a white upright surge protector power board with three outlets), but tipped to the left (which is based on two absurd notions; one, that a USB cable needs to be plugged in somewhere for an Internet search to work and two, that a USB cable would fit in an electrical outlet).

I adjust the USB cable to push it down fully into the outlet which is on my right. It is in the outlet between where the desktop computer is plugged in (left side) and where the CRT monitor is plugged in (right side). Soon, there is a sizzling sound. I am not sure what is going on. I see an orange glow coming from the monitor without paying much attention to the side of the monitor looking more like a vent with equidistant horizontal louvers. Soon, there are sparks flying out of the outlet along with a bit of fire and more sizzling from the other workstations. I soon realize that I had better turn off and unplug everything. First, I turn off the switch on the power board, but the noise and fiery glow seems to grow and spread and I wonder if I had turned it on instead of turning it off (which is illogical as I had just been using the computer). I go around the table attempting to turn everything off. There is even a power board with three outlets hanging to the left of the doorway at about chest-level, which I also turn off and pull plugs out of. My wife Zsuzsanna comes in. Our youngest son and daughter come in and playfully walk clockwise around the table cheerfully and I tell them that they should leave.

Although the fire becomes brighter and the sizzling louder, it does not really spread that far. Each fire mostly remains inside the perimeter of each computer workstation, which is looking more and more like an arrangement of tall vents with equidistant louvers that I mostly watch the fire through. There is hardly any smoke.

Soon, the crackling and sizzling becomes a very strange metallic music. It is firstly an instrumental version of “Ghost Riders in the Sky”. The metal of the burning workstations “plucks” the song, though is not that loud. The gremlins (from the 1984 movie “Gremlins”), though remaining unseen, are “singing” - though not the actual lyrics, just “ya ya ya ya, ya ya ya ya” to the melody, though for the chorus, they sing “yippee-yi-ay, yippee-yi-o, ghost riders in the sky…” the title being mostly muttered and somewhat indistinct as they go back into the “ya ya ya ya” verse. As I stand in the doorway, I marvel at what seems a “frozen moment” of perfection (even though I know it will cost a lot of money to replace the computers). The thin metallic plucking of the melody sounds very distinct as each louver of the vents snaps, though the workstations (and vents) still appear as complete and undamaged through the fire. (The equidistant horizontal lines of light have appeared in previous dreams, akin to venetian blinds and relating to the nature of liminal space, including with the potential of greater clarity or lucidity, between dreaming and waking.)

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Although I consider this a beautiful and unique dream (analogous to the dream-self identity as the phoenix), it carries the same core meaning (and sleeping, dreaming, and waking components and inherent symbols) as the majority of my dreams since early childhood. Firstly, my unconscious dream self seeks to return to whole consciousness (which is often the primary goal of most dream-self incarnations though in many cases the dream self attempts to “escape” from the “interference” of whole consciousness, or does not want to wake yet) through use of computer technology (as only the conscious mind has viable thinking skills or a stable system of logic). The common “return flight” aspect is here, but in this case as the “ghost riders in the sky” (the sky often being symbolic of the conscious mind as being “above” the dream self), where fire is mentioned in the actual song, fire of which represents emergent (waking) awareness (or if one prefers, the emerging sun or light of day). Orange is also a factor of sentience (and the need to wake up) between yellow and red (which also represent states of consciousness when dominant, yellow or gold being the “softer” phase and red often indicating more of a need to wake, in my case, often after sleeping a little too long, relative to circadian rhythms). The color red increases the pulse and heart rate, and raises your blood pressure in preparation for waking. Red, orange, or yellow are typically the final dominant colors in my dreams (depending on the type), where blue typically serves as the opposite, that is, dream induction itself (or the calming of consciousness which transmutes as the “sky” but focuses via the “sun”).

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Morning of September 14, 2016. Wednesday.



I am at our present address where we live now, though eventually the layout becomes larger and quite different. I am looking for a letter that I had somehow misplaced within moments of reading it. Not only that, I recall at least four other versions of the letter that we had received over the last week or two. It relates to our oldest daughter having some sort of unusual medical concern regarding her back (which is relevant to Zsuzsanna’s younger half-sister, not any of our children) and perhaps needing to stay at a children’s hospice (even though she is an older teenager). I am annoyed, because the issue does not seem real and that it seems more like an incompetent intrusion by the government.

I look through a few piles of magazines and random papers, including piles of scholastic worksheets and unused coloring-in-pages (one featuring four rockhopper penguins on ice ledges of different heights), but cannot seem to find any of the copies of the letter. I tell Zsuzsanna that I do not know how all copies have seemed to vanish including the one I had just been reading at a desk.

Over time, as our residence slowly expands, I notice that our oldest daughter has gone into the left side of my wardrobe to sleep (while in a standing position). This does not strike me as unusual. I begin to hear her deep breathing through the closed wooden door.

I notice Dick Van Dyke (the actor, now 90 years old in reality), who is wearing a black business suit, walking around as if he is looking for something. He appears as he did in the late 1960s. I am not all that surprised and find it a welcoming visit. He stops near my wardrobe and puts his ear to the door. “Your daughter is very special,” he says sincerely, “she creates marvelous poetry”. He continues to press his left ear against the left door of my wardrobe and comments on the rhythm and beauty of her poetry, even commenting on particular stanzas that I myself do not hear, and even though she is asleep. (Our daughter is a very talented artist and she has done professional work for others at an early age, but she does not write much poetry.)

I finally start to talk to him by firstly addressing him as Richard.

“Richard?” he considers in a puzzled manner, not directly addressing me, but absentmindedly looking at the shelves of what is now a grocery store. My wardrobe is now perpendicular to the beginning of the aisle. “Richard,” he softly mutters, barely audible, and seemingly responding to an incorporeal voice rather than my actual presence. I conclude that I had unduly puzzled him and instead decide to formally address him by his surname. I cheerfully start to say “mister…” but then I somehow forget his surname. He does not acknowledge me at all but seems to be interested in studying the contents of the shelves, picking out a jar of orange marmalade (emerging consciousness metaphor), while I continue to wonder where the letters from the government are (subliminally waiting for my dream self’s ascent into whole consciousness as a letter symbolizes potential threads between dream self and conscious self in non-lucidity).

I go through a couple “rooms of our house” and end up near the entrance to “our house”, which is now the checkout area of the Woolworths grocery store. This does not seem strange to me at all. I look through a pile of papers near two different cashiers, but still cannot find a copy of the letter. I am not bothered by the unknown patrons being in our “home” which is now apparently solely a grocery store.

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This dream was typically precognitive (as there is a precognitive element in nearly all my dreams of one kind or another, often left unappended - in fact, over the last few years, at least one a day based on something my wife or daughter had thought of or mentioned to each other without me having any way of knowing), though in a rather skewed sense as is often the case. Zsuzsanna had returned from shopping with a sheet of paper (given out at the grocery store checkout) that was a coloring-in drawing for the promotion of a children’s hospice (featuring four hummingbirds, not four rockhopper penguins, though still in the same position regarding the birds). I find it amusing how dreams do this all the time, that is, foreshadow forthcoming events, but often in a “cleverly” altered way (though literally or visually exact in many cases).

Still, in contrast, there are the typical dream signs and standard components and waking transition. Our oldest daughter has gone to sleep (dream sign) in my wardrobe (secondary dream sign) and my dream ends with a typical waking transition symbol (a grocery store checkout symbolizing the leaving of the dream state). My preconscious personification (here, Dick Van Dyke) ended up “avoiding” me, or “failing to understand” as is often the case, but still lovingly commented on the nature of my family (just prior to the waking stage), the most important aspect of my life.