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BlueOpossum's Dream Journal

Cohesion
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Not Really Like a School

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Lucidity
Lucid Intent
 
Friday, September 4 1998

        Morning of September 4, 1998. Friday.        I go to an unknown unfamiliar area where some sort of educational course, possibly job-related training, is being conducted. Eventually, instead, it turns out to be like a prison camp. We are told to put our hands up as we march along the side of a road.        I am eventually able to grab a gun from one of the supposed teachers. Instead of using it, I throw it into the water from a b

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Cohesion
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Marching Heads?

Rating
Friday, April 7 1995

        Morning of April 7, 1995. Friday.         I seem to have a form of control over small marching beings that are more like only heads. They come from a box that seems to have no limit of volume, thus being able to contain infinite objects and beings. (It reminds me a little of a cartoon I saw years ago of ants marching.) There is also a scientist (unknown) and an unknown female.

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Cohesion
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The Rocking Chair

Rating
Lucidity
Lucid Intent
 
Tuesday, March 4 1986

        Morning of March 4, 1986. Tuesday.        There is a strange, long, disjointed series of scenes and associations relating to a wooden rocking chair I had supposedly been working on in a carpentry class at WWTI (now WWTC). Even though this was not related to an actual project at the school, it seemed very real. I believe I was making it for sister Marilyn, even though it was child-sized. There are scenes of where it is unfinished and on a large tabl

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Cohesion
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The Grasshopper Song

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Wednesday, July 4 1973

        Night of July 4, 1973. Wednesday.        I am "seeing" the song my father used to sing in real life shown as an amusing short film in-dream with a few implied mishaps for the grasshoppers. The song he sang (and of which I have only found one variation of in a book years later) in reality went like this (being sung to the tune of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"):         One grasshopper hopped upon anothe

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Cohesion
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Picture It, Strangely

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Friday, September 26 1969

        Night of September 26, 1969.  Friday.        I am in some sort of museum or art gallery, seemingly late at night, and no one else is around, not even my parents.  I go up to a painting of a colorful landscape and the closer I look, the more “energy” I feel.  After a short time, it seems I am moving into the painting and then hovering above a very large crowd of men who all look very similar

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