Blue Opossum's Dream Journal @blue-opossum - Tumblr Blog

The Shape-Shifting Frog

Tuesday morning, June 16, 2026.

There is minimal physical realism, no discernible or traceable cortical influences, and only an intuitive awareness that I am sleeping, which increases as I achieve liminality.

At first, I find a large frog, similar to the one from the YouTube video "A tiny angry squeaking Frog 🐸 | Super Cute Animals - BBC"

In this segment, my dream self is modelling my ongoing sleeping position, as is often the case.

Later, when the frog is in the bed of our current home, though perpendicular to its real-world orientation (headboard to the north), it becomes a large gray tabby cat, unrealistically large from the "zooming in" effect of the dream state. Zsuzsanna is nearby. In the outcome, it is fully a cat. I inform Zsuzsanna that it is a shape-shifter.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

The AI Magazine (incredible vividness)

Thursday morning, June 11, 2026.

This dream occurs in a mode of hand motions and unusual abstract visuals regarding the supposed AI output. As I have gotten older, many dreams have reached a new level of realism and vividness, despite surreal content in some segments.

I feel comfort and peace throughout my dream. It includes sustained activity of looking through a magazine (with an unknown title, despite the covers of two other issues on a computer screen) with blank sections.

Curiously, the blank rectangular panels, sometimes near the top of a page, sometimes near the bottom that otherwise feature articles, puzzles, and comic strips, have "PLANE" written in the upper-left corner. Throughout my dream, as I turn the pages, I continue to discern "PLANE" clearly. I perceive the word as an opportunity to create a new image each time, simply with a scribble in part of the panel. I do not associate the word with airplanes (though airplanes have been in dreams all my life because of vestibular associations with sleep). I am likely thinking of the word "PANEL" in the back of my mind, as well as the geometrical reference to a surface.

Whenever I make a small scribble inside a panel, an image automatically forms in the area. One scene resembles Mount Rushmore, but with surreal letter patterns. I do the activity about 20 times.

Although animations on paper have occurred in dreams all my life, this one uses the idea of AI generating images on what is conceptually "Smart Paper."

Only the panels that say “PLANE” are able to produce surreal drawings and paintings.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

The Gears of Time Ding Too Much

Monday morning, June 15, 2026.

My sleeping mind places me in a real-world foundation relative to 1979, though the associations are completely wrong as usual, and I lack any real-world recall since 1979.

I am in a fictitious room in the King Street mansion on the east side, in the back, on the second floor, where the staircase starts in real life. The dynamics of my dream are atypical. I have no associations with my landlady or other real-world tenants except for Leonard (of whom my dream self does not remember having died in 2016). I become aware of an unknown tenant at the front, on the east side, but never see him directly.

I go into the kitchen (at the west front of the second floor) - an empty, dark room. I have a square clock. I hear a dinging sound as it ticks but I want it to stop dinging. I see that a smaller gear, lower than the other two, which are larger, is the cause. I think of putting a little rod between the top of the small gear, which seems to work - though in reality, would also pause the larger gear it is moving with (but when do dreams ever reflect logic or even common sense?).

I feel a strong tap on my left shoulder. I turn to see Leonard smiling at me. (In real life, he was microcephalic.) I am aware that the other tenants (college students) have similar devices that do not ding.

My dream was very peaceful and satisfying, as most have been lately.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Incredible Realism, Movement in Darkness, and PRESENCE

Friday morning, June 14, 2026.

This account describes two vivid dream segments, content so vivid that it is beyond words.

The first is a typical vestibular dream with no imagery, but incredibly realistic movement and touch, though curiously as if sped up, creating the impression of quickened time. It was not disorienting but quite bizarre.

Size orientation is precise. I pick up Hailey (who only appears in dance-related dreams) and lift her by the waist and swing her up over my head into the airplane position. The speed is ridiculously rapid despite the enhanced sense of motion and touch. There was a more extreme myoclonic discharge - which caused my whole body to briefly spasm, noticed immediately by Zsuzsanna.

In my other dream, Zsuzsanna is facing me, but there is an indescribable presence I have never experienced before. I feel an energy from her that is somehow instantly within my body. I cannot think of a single real-world comparison.

Another unusual attribute is that her presence ambiguously combines the present with when we first met - including her physical form. (I cannot put this into words.)

Vestibular dreaming, but instead of the usual floating, falling, or spinning, you get hyper‑precise biomechanics and accelerated time perception.

The Zsuzsanna dream: The kind of dream that only happens when the emotional memory of a person is so deeply encoded that the brain treats them as a continuum, not a snapshot.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Dance Session (Recurring): Wrist Pivots

Friday morning, June 12, 2026.

Real-world facts: I can pivot my left wrist backward and upward to an atypical 86 degrees (probably due to surgery and separated tendons as a toddler), and my right wrist at a typical 110 degrees. In contrast, Zsuzsanna can pivot her left wrist back to 110 degrees but her right wrist only to 135 degrees (possibly due to bursitis). Note that this is when the upper arm is straight out from the shoulder and the forearm is at 90 degrees inward and forward. The more the hand bends back, the smaller the angle, and the more mobility and vice versa.

Fictitious females: So far, beyond the previous imagined females (including Liberty Anne Coggeshall from Providence, Rhode Island), the current two are Hailey and Victoria (though called Vic) with no discernible middle or last names (so far). Hailey is the youngest. Hailey is Czechoslovakian, while Vic is Russian. Hailey is in leopard print (blouse and skirt) while Vic wears mostly black. The black choker with a small heart-shaped red gem is shared.

The book that Hailey brings is like a magazine made of over 50 pages of onionskin paper. The pages feature a large central image of an "outcome" representing a pose, though in thin outlines of two human bodies (red, female, and blue, male) without much detail, such as faces. At the top is a "step sequence" of 2 to 4 positions to achieve the outcome, with an "exit strategy" of 2 to 4 images at the bottom. Specific angles are indicated, relative to wrist pivots, elbow angles, and other details.

Force is measured using sensors called load cells or force transducers, which convert physical pressure or tension into an electrical signal. When hands push, the force is measured in Newtons or pounds-force using specialized compression sensors or grip dynamometers. Snippets of areas are in small print on the pages by limbs and such. Angles are to be measured with our shadows against a screen.

Hailey is supposedly 1 in 22 million people, while I am supposedly 1 in 8 million regarding attributes such as synesthesia and mobility. (The extreme agility of my left wrist is mentioned in my dream.)

There is a comedic mention of how I used a whip as a boy and developed my right arm to be far stronger - and with more mass - than my left (a real-world event).

There is a joke about doing five outcome sets in ten days, compared to doing ten in five days, which seems extreme and unlikely. The implication is still four hours of practice a day, which does not make sense mathematically.

Ribs are discussed, partly based on the myth about the difference in the number between males and females. It is mentioned that female entities existed long before males, which is supposedly supported by science in contrast to asinine Bible myths. From a literal, creationist perspective where man was designed fully formed from scratch, the presence of non-functional, female-identical anatomy is highly contradictory.

Dance studio (destination - not always completed depending on dream length) is on the fifth floor of "my" residential corner house in La Crosse, Wisconsin. The house location and design were brought into existence (1978) by altering history after a worldwide "rewind." The mansion replaces a larger area of the northwest corner of Wood and Logan streets. This event was caused by AI yet resulted in AI not existing (because Google AI mode, Bing Copilot, Grok, and ChatGPT always get everything wrong and, naturally ceased to exist other than as a futuristic genuine mode with automatic safety functions but without human agenda filters).

It took nearly 3 hours (while working on other things), 60 blocked images, and about 20 failed images to eventually get the correct image in this report.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Dog-Headed Clouds

Thursday morning, June 11, 2026.

It is typical for a dream in this mode to feature two attributes. The first is the recognition of someone in a canoe on a river or similar water-based scene. The second is the appearance of faces in trees, the sky, or elsewhere, typically unrealistic and ill-defined, though sometimes becoming more realistic, as in this case. These types began before I could read or write, a part of my earliest dream accounts in this life.

This type of content follows the pattern of sleep recognition in the sense of water flowing, followed by "visions" and dream state imagination attempting to stabilize, a liminal form of pareidolia, similar to seeing patterns in clouds in real-world scenarios or seeing faces in random objects.

The narrative is atypical. I perceive a Japanese man, though he is:

1) UNSEEN, even though I know he is in a canoe and fishing. 2) In an ambiguous setting, that is, a river inside my house, though in a different room. Much of this segment is an undefined liminal space. 3) The man had become East Indian (still unfamiliar) near the end of my dream.

Other aspects:

4) There is an ambiguous religious association because he is praying in English, possibly a Catholic prayer. (I am not religious in any way in reality.) 5) The white clouds first look like groups of human faces and yet also like many clustered emoticons simultaneously. 6) Eventually, the clouds are paintings of dog heads above a building in La Crosse, Wisconsin, including a German Shepard. 7) There are white clouds forming spirals at one point.

The setting, I perceived as the Loomis Street house. However, when I leave the house and walk south, it becomes more like an industrial area in La Crosse.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

The Walking Christmas Card

Monday morning, June 8, 2026.

Every sleep cycle for 60 years has included at least one clear dream featuring a bed. The natural, consistent pattern underlying this obvious intuitive awareness of being asleep, detached from viable real-world memory and the nature of reality, and without needing the asinine concept of dream interpretation and symbolism in the conventional sense, reveals that a bed in my dream is:

1) Rarely ever in a place where it has been in real life. 2) Often in a place where it would not be possible or at least logical to be. 3) Subject to a dream state placement that rarely occurs more than once.

This example places our bed with its headboard against the north wall and aligned lengthwise against the west wall in our lounge room (living room) in our present home.

Zsuzsanna is sitting up in bed, but I am closer to the foot of our bed. There are several indiscernible objects on the bed, but I focus on a Christmas card.

My dream resets a few times and changes through different modes. The main mode of all sleep cycles is LEG MOBILITY, and an association with attaining the ability to walk based on decreasing R.E.M. atonia. Sometimes this imperative results in a surreal narrative.

The Christmas card is upright and "walks" on its own by rocking from the bottom-left corner to the bottom-right corner. It features several yellow candles atop a Christmas wreath. Even though Zsuzsanna is present and aware of the event, I describe it to her.

Eventually, the card instantly changes in design as I gaze at it. It now features red candles against a blue background. I continue to describe my dream as it occurs, which is typical in this particular state.

In the outcome, I am standing near our front door, intuitively focused on exiting the dream state, an occurrence in multiple dreams each sleep cycle for 60 years. I am still watching Zsuzsanna, but through an array of low-set shelves.

Christmas associations sometimes occur in dreams because of current blissful states from real life and associations with feelings of deep love. Candles are an automatic association with liminal states, such as my "mentally lighting a candle" in undefined liminal space. However, that dynamic occurs without imagery and usually only with digestion issues or incidental sleep apnea in hypnopompic states, which I cannot verify here.

I have to include a "coincidental" link because Zsuzsanna had been looking at a "Christmas Crafts" magazine with a Christmas candle on the cover. This attribute occurs continually. On one level, it is how we made contact and married in the real world.

#.dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Beautiful Birds, Foxes, and Kangaroos

Monday morning, June 8, 2026.

The setting of my dream mainly presents the dining room and backyard of the Loomis Street house in Wisconsin (unseen since February 1994). However, the couch is from my current address in Australia, and its alignment in my current real-world home occurs in my dream but reversed. To clarify, in real life, the back of our couch is along the division between our dining room (used as a bedroom) and the living room. In contrast, in my dream, the back of it runs along the division between the Loomis Street house's dining room and living room, facing the dining room. Dreams get everything wrong to avoid associations with waking life, but the wrongness is always unique.

Zsuzsanna is on the couch, and our youngest son and daughter are present, but they are much younger. (It is typical for a dream to place my family in an older location - or an ambiguous integration of two or more locations - that they have never been, but an Australian location without me recalling them is extremely rare.)

I focus on beautiful birds that have somehow gotten into the house. Over time, I notice more. I count them, eventually informing Zsuzsanna that there are eight, even though she is close by. The birds are mostly different species, but all of them are multicolored. I pick a couple of them up and plan to put them all outside. They act quite tame. At one point, I attempt to hold five at a time but usually can only hold three together.

I go into the backyard, and it is nighttime. There are more birds. I try to get them to fly away because a couple of foxes put their mouths over them to pick them up and perhaps eat them.

Eventually, the mood shifts, and I see a few kangaroos in the backyard. I notice the neighbor's house (to the south) no longer has a fence except for one short section directly in the back. There is long grass near the fenceline but leaning. I have no recall of the real-world residents. I make comedic gestures and comments in trying to get the kangaroos out of "my" yard - hoping they notice, though I do not see anyone.

In the last scene. I am in the house again, near the couch, and my daughter is crying. My son starts crying. It is because their black guinea pig had died. (We did not have a fully black one, only a black-and-white one named Orbit.)

This dream has an extraordinarily vivid sense of touch and movement. It is the usual hand mobility factor and enhanced touch, followed by the usual leg mobility factor, triggered by decreases in R.E.M. atonia, occurring in dreams each sleep cycle for over 60 years, the truth making a mockery of the absurdity of "dream interpretation" (in contrast to known physiological causality and influences).

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Around the Bend, page 1 (dream journal supplement)

Sunday morning, June 7, 2026.

"Kinda thirsty, aren't ya?" said the arrogant police officer as only the second can of soda fell into the delivery chute. We were in front of Skogen's IGA store at night in La Crosse, Wisconsin.

"We had a report you were following someone," said the second officer, approaching from the opposite side, as they were cornering me. No one but me had been around, or I would have seen them from the intersection. It was the same lie they used to harass me on the other side of town the previous week, where again, I was the only one around.

"I didn't see anyone. I'm just getting drinks for my sister and my brother-in-law's niece."

"Your sister and your niece?"

"No, my brother-in-law's niece."

"If she's your brother's niece, she's your niece."

"Brother-in-law. We're not related except by marriage."

"You married your niece?"

"I'm not married."

"Do you have some identification?"

"All I have is a photocopy of my Florida birth certificate. Is that okay?"

"It proves you were born," smirked the second officer.

"Do you live around here?" asked the first officer.

"On Loomis Street," I said, nodding slightly in the direction of the house. I tried to remain as still as possible and not give them an excuse to invent more drama.

"I thought you lived on the Southside."

"I do, but I'm visiting my sister."

"And your niece. Is Julie La F~~~~ your niece too?" smirked the first officer.

"Huh? I don't think so."

"You don't know who you're related to? Maybe you should ask around. I'm pretty sure she mentioned your name in the report."

"That was probably the other Butch. Virgil R~~~~~ He has a car, but I don't drive."

"Well, now how many Butches are there then? Is Virgil related to you?"

"No. Maybe my brother-in-law. He's hunted with Julie's dad."

"There've been a lot of break-ins around here," said the second officer, inventing a new reason to keep me standing there.

"Tell me about it. My sister's friend had a lot of stuff stolen from her porch," I explained.

Both officers gawked at me as if seeing me for the first time. The second officer handed me the photocopy of my birth certificate. I assumed they had decided to leave because I was talking about a real crime, and so they did not want to hear about it.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Eating "River Potato" Fossils (Vivid Taste)

Wednesday morning, June 3, 2026.

This dream is of a specific but rare type that creates a vivid narrative of my dream self (at first) spontaneously eating something that should otherwise be inedible. The spontaneity is somewhat ambiguous when I realize the unusual nature of what I am eating, but I sometimes continue my actions. Taste is always vividly increased and is the most present of the other senses.

In my dream, I eat several fossils of the type called "river potatoes" (though known as "Aoxite" in my dream). They are like small black oval stones with a grainy interior, though they are soft enough to eat. Over time, I realize that I may be eating too much.

Their size, shape, and texture remind me somewhat of Pfeffernüsse. The taste reminds me vaguely of the essence of tarmac.

These stones are supposed to be healthy to eat, but I begin to question whether eating many of them would be healthy.

The name "Aoxite," which sounds like a type of fossil, is actually a fashion brand, such as for women's leather jackets.

The gustatory cortex is usually not the most active hallucinatory attribute of the dream state, as it is in this case, but texture awareness is also predominant with my imaginary (dream state) mouth and tongue.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

The Craziest Brownville Girl Dream Ever

Monday morning, June 1, 2026.

My dream self lacks real-world recall (including any associations with real-world identity), past July 1978.

My imagined need to tell Brenda that I will be moving to Wisconsin soon is the main underlying influence, which has no relevance to my current life. I have the impression that I told my mother I would be walking north to Brownville. I do not see my mother in my dream.

I walk north on the opposite side of Highway 17 (now called Cubitis Avenue) from my home. As with many similar dreams, the highway takes on attributes that make it look more like an isolated road.

I reach an area that I first discern as a barrier caused by the front of a house in my path. I do not want to go off to the side because the route is not straight, and I may get lost with the new roads. It is somewhat dark out, but the house changes into two pickup trucks parked back-to-back. An unfamiliar woman tells an unknown man to move his truck so I can walk through the area. Other trucks go forward from each side as I walk through.

I reach Brenda's house and notice there is no tall grass, as there always was in reality. I see toys everywhere, including a tricycle by the steps on the left side of her house. I consider the toys belong to her younger brothers. (She had four younger brothers, including a baby.)

Her mother comes out, and I ask if Brenda is here. Over time, her house's kitchen, soon missing three walls, becomes integrated into her large front yard. (This detail is a common surreal dream mistake.)

Brenda comes out in white pajamas and is grateful to see me. We hug for a few minutes, the most vivid and realistic part. However, she is bald except for a tiny patch of hair on each side of her head. I consider that she had been ill and was having chemotherapy, and I am one of the only people she had seen in weeks.

After this, my dream goes off the rails. She wraps her legs around a table leg and rocks back and forth wildly as if having an uncontrollable fit. The realism drops significantly. Her mother is stirring soup on the same table and cursing about everyone and everything, using "f___" over and over as I also seem to be hearing a television or radio in the distance.

Her mother pours water into a dirty glass ashtray and wants Brenda to drink it. Brenda, sounding somewhat mentally handicapped at this point, complains that there are ashes in it. At this point, my dream is in a completely different mode from the hugging scene. (Dreams sometimes shift through completely different modes, which no one else ever seems to admit to or write about.)

My dreams typically link to inexplicable synchronicity in waking life, sometimes to the point of being absurd. In this case, my dream's outcome is an influence from my favorite poem: "To His Coy Mistress" by Andrew Marvell - "ashes all my lust" - also an Alec Effinger story in the "Fellowship of the Stars" anthology) - and I found a YouTube video as a first match in a search, narrated by Sir Patrick Stewart in the account Zsuzsanna Uhlik. (My wife's name is Zsuzsanna, but that is only part of it.) This set of coincidences is the typical "this can't be real - the universe must be playing a joke" level of events, such as Zsuzsanna finding an accordion for sale as soon as she wanted to get me one, and the seller being a variation of my first name plus her maiden name.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

The Shield and the Boar

Monday afternoon, May 25, 2026.

I was ill, but it was my fault. Sometimes, even at my age, I do not know any better than to have beef, pasta, ice cream, and Cheezels in the same evening.

One dream scenario involved me being the guardian of a shield. It is supposedly indestructible. A wild boar follows me, but its goal is to destroy the shield. There does not seem to be a direct threat to my life.

At one point, I walk on the water to be on a Viking longship.

Somehow, the boar gets onto the ship and hits the shield. The shield is distorted and looks like the shape of something that had been melting. It is no longer circular but irregular - with extended "melting shape" areas.

Even so, I feel the shield will return to its original form.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Destroying AI with Joy and Ending Intrusive Deception

Sunday afternoon, May 24, 2026.

My dream places me in Cubitis (unseen since July 1978), but with modern recall.

Over time, although not logical, I see screens of various sizes covering all the environment's background. These screens are displaying various types of contrived, obnoxious advertisements and false information. It is a single wall - yet somehow implies the way the whole world is "blocked" by government propaganda and fake commercial product advertising.

Over time, I complain about the state of the world. I remove parts of the wall and cut into the monitors that are like popper juice boxes at times. I complain that some of the monitors block the sky.

I see how everything projected from another source could not be real at any level. I recall watching YouTube videos and police and other people acting like random cartoon characters, inventing drama, and strange comments by people who did not seem to have ever been alive or understand anything unless received through electrical wiring.

Part of this relates to Zsuzsanna gaining recognition about how dangerous AI falsehoods are; all the fake stories on Facebook, Quora, and other sites - specifically designed to deceive people for profit which is sometimes all that seems to exist anymore.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Vignettes Out of Time: 2 (dream journal supplement)

Saturday afternoon, May 23, 2026.

"Could you please tie my shoes?" asked Bet~, walking up and standing too close to me as I sat at the front of the school with two male friends, Tob~ and Al~.

"Don't you know that's code for something?" said Al~

"Code for what?" she asked.

"Code for 'go away and come back in a coupla years,'" replied Tob~ sarcastically.

I leaned over and tied her shoelaces.

"Look at him," said Al~, "He's actually doing it."

Tob~ started slapping his eyes with the palms of his hands, a habit expressing disbelief.

"Will you tie MY shoes, dada?" mocked Al~. He leaned back, "So anyway, once in high school, you won't see her for two years."

"You idiot," said Tob~, "They live within walking distance of each other."

"So? Won't see her in school."

Tob~ slapped his eyes again, chanting, "Huh? Huh? Huh? Sorry, my brain's on vacation! Huh?"

"Stop it," commanded Al~.

-----

Someone tapped on my private door from the carport.

"Well, hey, Little Mouse, what are you doing?"

I opened my door and pulled her inside.

"Ow! Hey! That hurts!" said Bet~ with a harsh whisper.

"Sorry, my mom's been acting a bit crazy today."

"YOU'RE acting a bit crazy today," she replied.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"Something that would get me killed."

"Huh?"

"Read some of my comics or something, over there."

"Why does your desk stink so much - like perfume?"

"Oh, it's Lis~'s desk. They gave it to me because they'll be moving sometime soon."

She picked up volume 14 of my "Man, Myth and Magic" set.

"What's this?" she asked curiously.

"Oh no! Put that down!"

"You don't have to yell. And anyway, I can draw a LOT better than this!" She was looking at the cover featuring a poorly designed cartoon-like sketch of a cat's head.

"If you say so. Hey, listen. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be back in a minute."

My mother looked at me strangely as I went into the hallway to the back of the house. She pretended to be reading a letter.

I entered my room again, closed my door to the living room, which always made a loud scraping sound when rubbing against the frame, and locked it.

Bet~ had carved a cartoon duck into my bed's wooden headboard with a ballpoint pen. It looked squashed and scribbly, with a head that was too big. She had carved "B.B." underneath it.

"What...have you done...to my bed..." I said slowly.

"Told you I could draw better. It's Daffy!"

"YOU'RE Daffy!"

"Do you like it?"

"Oh sure, sure. Now I can look at a weird little scribble for the next ten years every time I wake up."

"Stop being mean."

"Well, read my Daffy comic books then, over there!"

"I've already read them all."

"Archie then."

"What's this writing?"

"Huh? Oh, my sister gave them to me as a gift when she came down from Wisconsin."

She flipped the pages. 'Do you have asthma?"

"Huh? No. I don't."

"You should get an inhaler."

"I don't need an inhaler. Geez."

"Go home!" my mother yelled through the broken pane of the door.

"Well, here we go again," Bet~ said, rolling over and throwing the comic book onto the floor.

"Here we DON'T go," I replied sarcastically to no one in particular.

"Are you trying to make my heart stop?" I heard my mother say through the broken pane.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Not Real Money from Near My Brother's House

Saturday afternoon, May 19, 2026.

I spontaneously walk south from my Cubitis house (unseen since July 1978).

Without any dream state recall past 1976, or the intuitive pretense as such, I walk through LM's carport. I am aware of people being in the house and consider looking through a window as I walk to the other side, but I keep going.

I want to go to Earl's house (half-brother on my mother's side), a few more houses south, so I continue walking. My dream self has no recall that he died in 2007.

Before I get to his house, I notice hundreds of one-dollar bills pilled in stacks in a window box at the front of an unknown house.

I stuff some of the notes into my left shirt pocket, but they do not fit. They are in an uneven arrangement.

I shove more one-dollar bills into my pants pocket.

When I get back to my house, they have all turned into pizza coupons. It is a common dream distortion to transform money. Sometimes, when I summon money, when there is more intuitive or lucid awareness, the bills turn into receipts, coupons, small shopping lists, Monopoly game money, or foreign currency.

Ultimately, this is just a typical hand mobility outcome, as in every sleep cycle. It has extraordinary tactility and tangibility. Such a dream is the usual physiological response to REM atonia variations toward waking, even when the rest is nonsensical.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

Vignettes Out of Time: 1 (dream journal supplement)

Saturday afternoon, May 19, 2026.

~cyn~

Half-asleep, I felt fingers brushing against my hand. Upon opening my eyes, I saw Cyn for the first time, gazing at me curiously. Patches, my sister's cat, was sleeping on my lap. She was petting her. "Cyn, don't annoy Butch," I heard her mother say.

~~~~

~lis~

After a few rings, after dialing the area code and 494-XXXX, I heard a tired, puzzled female voice answering the call. "Hello...hello?" Even with just the one word, there was no mistaking that voice with the southern drawl. Instead of saying anything, I hung up. I never called her again.

~~~~

~kar~

Kar and I, for the first time, stood on her gravel driveway waiting for the school bus. Her younger brother ran in circles around us, laughing. He had not started school yet.

"Pencil box," she said as I eyed her curiously.

I walked closer to her. "You wanna borrow my pencil box?" I asked cheerfully.

She stood with a pressed-lips expression, shrugged, and pointed.

I realized that my pencil box was on the ground.

~~~~

~cyn~

We were in my sister's kitchen. The only view into the kitchen from the dining room was a pyramid of Tupperware containers atop a table.

"Dip me!" she demanded several times during our Tango session, which I did several times, with focused attentiveness - to avoid a catastrophe.

"Now. You can do it for once."

I tried not to release my weight onto her arm, but it did not work. I crashed to the floor, rattling dishes.

"Butch! That's enough!" my sister screamed from the dining room.

"What are you two doing in there?" yelled her mother.

"Knocking the house down," my brother-in-law responded with too much cheerfulness.

"Sorry. That was me. Not her."

I looked around through the doorway into a room filled with cigarette smoke as her mother was rubbing her forehead.

"Come on Cyn, we're going over to Grammy's."

~~~~

~Lynn (name changed)~

Lynn walked into my hospital room as a candy striper.

(It was one of my core memories from the first half of my life - her sudden, unexpected appearance, her movements and motions, the way she brushed the flowers in the vase near my bed.)

She put her hand on my forehead and took my pulse, announcing that it was "just for practice."

"Practice for what?" I chided.

My mother eyed us curiously as I reached toward her when she bent over me.

"Oh my word, your mom is watching."

She walked out in a state of amusement. My mother had enough fuel for her letter-writing for at least a year.

The back of my hand was ballooning. The drip had slipped. My mother had to go and get an intern to fix it.

"Well, how did you manage to do this?" he asked.

"You wouldn't believe it," my mother commented.

~~~~

~Zsuzsanna~

Ultimately, the only thing that ever mattered was the outcome of my life, with my beautiful Zsuzsanna.

A core memory still presents me putting my red suitcase in the trunk of her sister-in-law's car and us hugging.

When I walked with her in Indooroopilly, I kept cheerfully saying, "I am really here," with unrestrained cheerfulness.

We smiled and laughed together about everything we saw.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

How the Universe Changed, page 1

Friday afternoon, May 16, 2026.

When my one-day-bride-to-be came down as a Romani-Australian flower girl from HEAVEN, a real-world location in Tuntable Falls near Nimbin, and the Aquarius festival, she eventually became a resident of REAL avenue in Norman Park, Brisbane.

In dreams, before I learned of her real-world existence, I took her in a 1922 red Phaeton through a long, continuously transforming imaginary street. I had to take her to REAL AVENUE, the text on the sign in my dream. I thought of this as taking her from the dream state into reality, but ironically, on one level, this was a reversal.

In real life, she had lived on Real Avenue in Norman Park, Queensland, Australia, on the opposite side of the world from me.

We wrote to each other by postal mail, a few times with me identifying my name as Corona Borealis and her as Corona Australis, always with links to numbers 22, 9, and 6. I begin noticing endless intriguing patterns all around me, even how the letter S with the Roman numerals for 9 made the word SIX, and the two kinds of quotation marks looking like a pairing of the number eleven, and the other as 66 and 99.

When I did meet her in real life, her brother drove us through a street sharing my uncommon first name, a road sharing my uncommon middle name, to an apartment complex that shared my uncommon middle name. It was all as I had imagined it, in a literal vindication, after all. Of course, we laughed about it since I had dreamt it as such previously.

Early one morning, shortly after lovemaking in May 2026, a situation that could either have been a lover's quarrel (the occasional "Romeo falls off the balcony" moment), or a territorial dispute, sent a brushtail possum, one of two, flying from a clerestory window into our kitchen (from where the glass had never been replaced since the November 2017 storm that tore our roof off). With some effort, we finally got it to go out through the back door.

I had a dream of playing an accordion. It was a song my father had written nearly a hundred years ago called the Flying Eagle (Polka) and had often performed in the Concordia Ballroom in La Crosse, Wisconsin.

Zsuzsanna and I had been feeling differently in May 2026; curiously ecstatic for days on end despite the decayed and absent state of the world. She had told me about how she wished I had an accordion and talked about a rekindling of everything we shared.

Then, a convenient coincidence of her finding one for sale in this small town, and not that far from us. A person sharing her maiden name and an unlikely and uncommon variation of my first name. The surreal nature of this reminded us of how we were in the first place years ago.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

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