The Labrynth of the Mind

Took 0.5 mg of melatonin before bed. Did a visualization MILD, visualizing my University.

Lucid Fragment

I am walking down the street near my university when I discover that I'm dreaming. I am able to change aspects of the landscape as I have visualized myself doing while awake.

Beautiful Women (fragment)

I am once again walking to class at the university. As I cut across a parking lot, a bunch of beautiful women show up. They are either African or African American, and look like models. I walk along with them, or they walk along with me, or something. Maybe this is even part of the above dream, but I can't remember.

Kids in Danger

I am in my own home (which also seems to be another place, maybe my old church). There are a bunch of kids with me. There is some kind of adventure going on, like a Boxcar Children story, or Tom Sawyer. I am a kid in this dream, named Taylor, or Huck, or Oliver or something like that. The other kids are out in our main living room, and there are bad guys outside. There is an adult with us, who leaves to do something that is supposedly important. I don't trust this guy.

Upon leaving us kids alone, the man says "keep watching out this window. Don't go anywhere or do anything, just keep watching. If they come, this is the window they will come through."

I know that there is a window upstairs that the villains may come through. I also have a feeling that the man is in with the bad guys. I decide to go watch out the back window. On the way, I stop in the closet to get a gun to take with me. I look in the closet, and see my 20 gauge and my father's 12 gauge shotgun. We have a couple of .22 handguns in there, but the shotguns are more powerful. I pick up my father's shotgun, and look for some ammunition. There is a box of shells on a kind of wooden ledge above the guns, but they seem to be fishing lures. I root through and find some shells I think will work, and drop them into the shotgun.

I run back to the back door (also the front door of my RL home) with my gun. I look out the window, and apparently see something. I dash out the front door, snapping the shotgun shut. Then I run a little ways, in pursuit of the bad guys.

While I'm running, I notice the shotgun seems awkward to carry. I look down, and see that it has more than the one barrell it usually has. As I look, I first count 2, then 4, and finally 6 or 8 barrells. Not only that, there are two triggers.

"How strange," I say to myself. "I know that this gun only has one barrell. What could be going on?" Immediately the thought comes to my mind "I must be dreaming. There's no other logical explanation."

I look around. Everything seems so real, it doesn't seem possible that I am dreaming. But there is no other explanation for the gun, and I know that I often think my dreams seem real. I turn around and head back for the house. "I'm dreaming," I say again, trying to grasp the idea. It just seems so real.

On my way back to the house, the plot and the realism overcome my realization that this is a dream, and I loose lucidity again.

Private Eye

I am a private detective. I have an office in a large city, which is also my current university, which is also my former university. Inside this office, you can walk into a sort of screen which hides your image from the outside. While I am hidden like this, my partner goes out onto the front porch of our office with a beautiful woman. I know the woman is trouble, but it's his decision. I watch from the inside, hidden behind this screen, while the woman shoots my partner. Then she shoots a few witnesses.

"We'd better shoot all the witnesses," her accomplice says.
"I don't see anyboy else around," she says, "nobody is in the building. Come on, let's get out of here."

I pick up my gun, and dash out the front door after them. They travel down the road, and turn left. I follow. They go down an alley, and I pull out my gun to be ready in case I come across them suddenly. Looking down the alley, I can see a house at the end that they are headed towars. It is one of the houses that I lived in when I was little. Apparently, this is their hideout.

I inspect my weapon, and notice that it is not a gun at all, but my set of throwing knives. I guess that's better than nothing, so I pull one out in case I need it. I look again, and I see it is once again a handgun. Then I remember that I never put bullets in the gun. At first I think that I keep the gun loaded, but upon closer inspection I see that the chambers are empty. I grimace with disgust at my oversight. What kind of detective am I?

I turn back towards the office. As I walk, crowds of people fill the street. The street is also a hallway now, I am at one of my colleges and classes are just letting out. I turn towards my office, which is now the maintenance section where I used to work. I need to get back, but some girl I know comes up to me. She wants me to look at her pictures, by which she means she wants me to go to her adult website. I don't really want to do this, but she keeps insisting. She shows me some rather obscene pictures of herself, but I manage to push past her to my office. Around here the dream ends.

Small Town Secrets

I am in a small town somwhere. It is not my home town, but a friend lives here and he tells me a lot about his friends. My friend and I are somwhere in the town, and there is some adventure going on (darn it, I can't seem to remember many details except that it was interesting). There is a murderer somewhere and I think we are trying to catch him. There is some shooting and climbing around hills. My friend and I climb up a bank, and come across a secret passage in the top of a huge church. My friend tells me to run back into town and get a few friends.

I run back to town. The dream is set in the 1950's, and I walk into a diner. It's a bit like a scene from Happy Days in there, and I try to find the people my friend was talking about. I ask around, and come up with a couple. (There's more to this part, too. I just can't remember what. Somebody doesn't like me asking around or something. And I think I eat something).

In the company of these freinds, I go back to the top of the hill and find the opening to the passage. My friend is waiting there. He seems to know the way, and leads us down in. At the opening, the passage is very narrow, just like a crack in the rock. Farther in it opens up and looks like a hallway in a building. A few rooms appear, and a bathroom. Everything is a clean white color, like a hospital. I wake up before we go much farther.

Back to my Grandparents' House

I am at home. I am getting ready to make the drive to my grandparents' house, and am going to eat before I leave. My mother is going to make macaroni and cheese, but not until supper. I will have left by then, so I try to find something else to eat.

I know that the next day I have to give an oral presentation. I have given many, but this doesn't stop me from worrying that the anxiety will ruin my evening.

Hunting for Arrowheads

My family and I are staying at a lodge (one that exists in real life. We were there about two months ago.) I get up one morning and decide to go arrowhead hunting around some overhanging rocks I saw earlier. I make my way down the path, and come to an area that I don't remember from real life, but have dreamed about before. I go down a littl deer trail rather than the main path. and come into a wooded area with the rock overhangs. As i walk it begins to storm. At first I think nothing of it, but then a bolt of lightening hits so close I can feel it.

I dash under an outcropping. It is dark under there, but I have a flashlight. Shining it around, I can see bits of flint on the ground. Searching some more, I find arrowheads and other arifacts. They are quite well made, and in waking life I would categorize them as Mississippian, though there seem to be some Late Archaic types too (these are much more delicate than normal late Archaic points, but are shaped like them).

Former House, again

I am invited to my aunt and uncle's house for a family get together. Their house happens to be one of our neighbors' house where I used to live. It is a dreamsign, but I miss it. Instead I think "this is really weird! My relatives just happen to have bought this very house."

I drive up on a scooter. No, not a motor scooter. A toy scooter. I lived here as a little kid, so it must be associative memory. Then we go in and look around the house. I think how ironic it is.

Tornado

I'm driving down the highway. I'm also walking down the highway. I'm also scooting down the highway on a piece of cloth. I run into a drawer by the side of the road, knocking it open (it's like the highway is lined with wooden filing cabinets). I think about leaving it open, but i'm afraid some distracted person might accidentally run into it and wreck. I make an illegal U-turn and go back. I can't find the drawer, but I do see some guy in a pickup truck pulling a huge trailer behind him. He is going about 4 mph, and what is more has to sit next to a huge piece of meat hanging from the ceiling of his truck. I laugh about this with some other guys standing by the highway. "If I were him," says one guy, "I'd get out and call a taxi!". The general idea is that his wife is making him do this.

Now I'm at work. My work looks a lot like my former school. It is blowing up a storm outside. The wind is getting worse and worse. I look out, and see the wind knock over a dumpster. then the dumpster is pounded to pieces by the wind. I see a few people laying around, and run down to help. Some people have already gone out and helped one guy, and I call for assistance as I rush out to what I thought was an old lady. When I get there, I find it was just a bunch of packages. Still, it is storming so i move them inside. One guy who came to help is annoyed, but I don't care because the packages are saved.

Opening the packages, I find an oil lamp that is also a heater. This will come in handy if we lose power. I set it on a table covered in straw, wondering if that is a safe thing to do.

Being an accountant (fragment)

Part of another much larger dream. We are sitting at a table in a class. The instructor asks what we think is the best thing about being an accountant. "The power!" I say.