Morning of July 9, 2015. Thursday.

I sometimes find it somewhat peculiar how a shorter look at a dream from as far back as 1965 (without even putting that much attention on the new online summary) can somehow trigger a similar focus in a new dream. Certainly there is probably no meaning or symbolic association as such, but perhaps partially relevant to the work I am doing now regarding all April 9th dreams that seem to show extensive foreshadowing or precognitive elements in ways that seem by lifelong design. I suppose in that case, even considering that television broadcasts had certain strong influences, what determines which facets of such influences are the ones to seemingly create strong personal meaning even in a long-term precognitive sense? This may also be relevant to some extent with reviewing very old dreams, although the mood is sometimes different.

The concept that reminds me of my 1965 dream ("Frankenstein Closes the World") is the opening of various small doors partly into what seems like a vertically "flat" (and inaccessible) version of part of the world at times. The idea of needing to go beyond a certain point seems like some sort of in-dream waking metaphor as with many in-dream events that some people try to claim as life-relevant events. For example, there has been a recurring situation in some dream types of going through a building and coming to a "dead-end" such as a window overlooking a city at night. A "dead-end" as such is almost always within a commercial building, though on a couple occasions related to trying to get out the hallway door on the south end of my Cubitis home during the time when it was not used in reality and was padded around the frame with pieces of blanket. A "dead-end" in a dream is likely some sort of impediment to the waking process and little else. You are in a dream and ready to wake, but perhaps not quite in the correct physical orientation to comfortably do so (for example, your arm being in an uncomfortable position).

In this dream, I mostly fly around and evade unknown people in mostly a cheerful manner. The scenario is not that clear, though the situation is quite common in dreams. It seems to relate in part to people not liking my flying ability, or me in general - though in this case it is likely that they view me as tresspassing. I fly about and land on roofs and walk on them a short time before flying elsewhere. There are a few scenes where I have to maneuver through very small openings in the middle of cluttered halls (which would otherwise be impossible to even squeeze through in reality) which seem somewhat related to industrial buildings. Some of these maneuvers seem to automatically trigger "resets" to where the setting changes dramatically. There are still seemingly annoyed people following me inside buildings as I fly around, though. One blocked area is made up of randomly stacked and partly fallen over boxes with at least one loose pipe diagonally across the top part of the small opening. I somehow still get through easily.

There is a scene where I am sitting at a table with another (unknown) male in the hall in the King Street boarding house (where there was not really enough room to do so in reality). The room I thought I had been stealthily residing in rent-free (where I never lived in in reality) turns out to be in use by a second unknown male, probably a college student, and I apologize for any intrusion I and the other male may have created when he opens his door. There is no conflict, however. From here, I go to the front of the house (though still upstairs) and into the kitchen. At this point, a third unknown person (female) is following me as if to ask me a question or at least say something. I am not interested and walk out onto the roof. Even though I am not lucid in any way, I know I can fly (typical in many dream types). I leap from the edge of the roof and the enjoyable and expected slight feeling of falling followed by rising up in flight occurs as usual. The other person seems somewhat surprised I did this. I fly fairly close to the ground near a group of unknown people before rising higher into the air again, effortlessly.

There is a shorter scenario after I land where I somehow cause money to come out of a machine of some sort (directly influenced by having seen the first episode of "Continuum" from 2012 on DVD). There is at least one American fifty-dollar bill for myself (along with what looks like a few different types of bills from Canada and Australia), yet I give my (deceased in real life) sister Marilyn a hundred-dollar bill for her husband for some reason. After a short time in a shift to a distorted version of her house, she is very angry about this act. She seems to believe that the gift of a hundred dollar bill somehow makes the time they spent saving money seem meaningless and she seems not to want it as such (which of course makes no sense at all other than perhaps for someone of an untimely poverty mentality which my sister certainly never had in life).

From here, I am watching a scene where my family is watching a very large flat-screen television, though I view the setting from the side of the television. The setting seems to take on an unusual vertically "flat" perspective that is hard to describe. I see my youngest son but not that clearly. It seems to be part of some sort of new television show about families watching television shows but mostly only filming their feet (yet I do not even reflect upon "Gogglebox Australia", though which Zsuzsanna and I could only watch a few minutes of one episode of weeks ago). From here, I seem to be looking down at my own body in bed but from an unlikely angle though still from somewhere near my shoulders. There is some sort of abstract thought reflecting a potential of watching myself while watching myself; that is, a third but unseen “me”.