There's a pier, a boat, a man on the boat. He's seated. I'm kinda just passing through the area, following something, not sure. I step onto the boat and feel his eyes on me. I stop, having felt the peak of awareness. I delve into that awareness to see what piqued the interest. I'm listening to his thoughts. He's commenting to himself that I'm the woman in his vision. I'm curious now, what vision? I see the vision play for me, I see myself falling off the boat, the wetness. I yank myself out of his awareness, thinking to myself that I hadn't fallen in the water. So it's not as though his vision played out. As I'm considering this, I'm growing concerned of falling into the water. If I'm not careful my own awareness will drag me into the water. Instead of that, I quickly step off the boat. He kinda watches with a fair level of curiosity. Nothing exciting really, just something he's noting in his mind. I find that odd. I find him odd.
I'm in some sort of military training classroom. There is a man in clean civilian clothes (white shirt), with dark black hair and eyeglasses teaching the classroom, and we're not sure what to call him. So we try "Drill Sergeant", but that doesn't seem to make any sense, since he's performing that function in civilian clothes.
I'm in a cave and see a beautiful woman leap into the water. Her beauty in the way she moves, her silence and gracefulness. Once she enters the water others join her. They're guiding, then attempt to trap her. I jump into the water, make an attempt to follow her, the scene changes into a maze. The natural rock that was once before is no longer. She's trapped within this maze, hunted. The others are shooting an underwater arrow at her and after some observation I notice they can't see her unless the arrow touches her. Knowing what she's attempting to do I leap into her body and attempt to help her.
Now we're both swimming. I'm urging her in various directions but after awhile there are four people in the water and the maze has become a simple square. There is no escape. I leave her for a moment to observe from the top of the square. I'm noting how calm she is given the situation, especially having shared a mind her with. She hasn't panicked or given up; she's fighting. A man arrives and leaps into the water. He grabs her and they vanish, but my perspective travels with them (?)
He releases her in a different environment, then him and another man go to a motel for the night. The one that saved the woman is being questioned by the friend about having some sort of stature. The friend had asked something like, "Hey, aren't you one of the (Avengers)?" I remember laughing, thinking that was cheesy and while he's not an 'Avenger' he is of that stature. The man replies that yeah, he is that. The friend asks why they're staying at a motel then...implying there should be a house at the very least.
The history plays out for me visually, as I'm wondering the same thing. Turns out the man had been attacked, house destroyed by a fire, he currently has no place to go. Both the man and the friend see the irony in the situation, yet the man makes no mention of the fire to his friend.
I watch the pair arrive in their room. One of them mentioned the couch. Neither of them bother turning on the lights so the scene is very dark and fading. I remember thinking over the entire situation from when I first saw that woman on the side of the cliff, prior to her leap into the water--noting how she could have never known the man was coming, yet she displayed all the confidence of knowing things would turn out alright; even when threatened with her death. My thoughts drift to the man. Although he has more ability than most, he questions the meaning of his actions, seeing them as insignificant.
I find him and the woman an odd pair.
Quick notes from June 30:
-movies, restrooms, outside, my feet are bare, search for slippers, find spider or plant slippers, decide to go barefoot.
-Looking for someone. Watching from a car in the parking lot. Basketball courts.
-Town. Playing a simple role until I find an Asian man. We transition into a bedroom. This part is especially vivid. I'm reclined on a king size bed, seated in the middle of it, he's absentmindedly pacing at the foot of the bed. My left arm is spread out touching the sheets; I bend each knee and the sensation of the sheets feel silky. He's providing me a vision of our future--a lecture. I see it as he tells me how we'll move from town to town, searching for others like us. He tells me I must end friendships with anyone military related as they couldn't be trusted (this was because we had a secret to keep, though I couldn't tell what exactly--the concern was the conflict of interest and he was wanting to be exceptionally safe as it concerns to our survival). He tells me we will do this so I can continue being a 'girl'. I understand him to mean he'd like to protect my innocence and privacy...so that I/we can live a normal life. I appreciate his effort but silently note the flaws in this arrangement. One of which is his lack of freedom. Though I know he's not concerned with himself, but I am.
He walks to the side of the bed to continue talking. This is when I notice his dark hair is wrapped in a similarily dark cloth. He's a thoughtful friend, protective. I'm just not convinced I need protecting but upon more thought I realize protection can come in many forms. Being shielded from speculation is a form of protection.
-Conversation with a very old friend. He's asking me if I'm jealous that a close friend of mine and him 'hooked up' (they had hooked up in the tonal recently). I give his question thoughtful consideration before answering honestly. I tell him that I had liked him a decade ago, in that way. However, I'm not one to push relationships and am generally guarded. I had no expectation that him and I would end up in a relationship--our trajectories were different and I saw that future. Now that my friend is in a relationship with him and I have heard her stories of the unfolding, I've seen the trajectories manifest. So while I am somewhat disapointed, I can't say I'm jealous. They are appropriate for one another and I don't desire the relationship they have with one another (they're ex-fuck buddies). He doesn't believe me (lol). I look around the room at the people in the surrounding environment (classroom from our middle school). He walks away with a slight look of both belief and disbelief. I make no effort to convince him; he'll either believe me or he won't. I'm no better or worse either way.
I'm lingering in the void, not a novel location by any means, but I'm viewing it in a new way. Apparently the void is a special place used by Tibetan Buddhists to reach enlightenment. I just don't quite get it. There is nothing to do here, nothing to see, if I run a simulation (dream) then the void is voided. I pace in the area, make circles, walk around in drunken lines. I jump. Nothin'. I've the feeling I'm missing something obvious. Perhaps the void is used to simply be--with lack of desire and action. Like another way to experience meditation. I just don't know how I'd determine if that's the correct use of the void. Maybe I can ask someone, although there is nobody here. Heh, I could ask myself, though that doesn't seem ideal.
Mid-pondering I'm joined by another. We enter a discussion where I'm attempting to conceal my state of contentment, happiness. He accuses me of being in possession of happiness. I make no confirmation of that as I think it irrelevant. He notes a physical symptom--I happen to be radiating a deep yellow colored energy. I tell him he must be mistaken. I comment that he seems especially pleased. He's not even trying to hide it; with a lil pep in his step, bouncy energy. He nods, has his arms behind his back, relaxed but also deep in thought. To see him happy actually brings me a deep sense of contentment. I know I could be super excited and show it, but I'm working. I'm expected to remain impartial and void of emotion, so I do that.
My prior DG asks me if I've noticed. I ask noticed what. The changes in his waking self; his efforts at being heard have improved. I nod--but I don't get the significance of the event. I tell him I really like one of his theories--or ranther an opinion; and I appreciate he may be a resource for my studies regarding that topic (dreaming). Unfortunately, I'm considering not using him to help myself. Just as I'd considered not using him as a DG. We are associates but the complexity of our dynamic is bothersome. I find avoidance to be the best option, so I've been doing that mostly. He asks if I'm willing to risk the loss of knowledge for the sake of my ego. I explain it's not just an issue of ego. He's unreliable with interests wandering from one topic to the next, unfinished projects, there's not a lot of consistency in his communication and depth of interest. I understand, have moments like that too, but when people are involved I'm able to lengthen my interest because I care that they've invested a significant amount--I'd like to see them succeed.
Being dark and mysterious is for romance novels, not for making real changes in the world. Transparency is where it's at, yo. He doesn't seem to appreciate my lack of seriousness. He says he can only do so much, it's steps for him, we all grow and develop and then he uses me as an example. I understand what he's saying but remain reluctant.
I begin explaining 'the puzzle' to him: what I have in my life, my objective for this life (academia related), and he knows where I've come from. I ask him where he sees himself. He places a single dot in the middle of my design.
Later in dreaming an attractive woman finds me. Wants to sex me. I consider the opportunity--favorably. She informs me she even does 3-somes. This opens up many more opportunties; I'm excited now. I take her home, gift her to my husband, and then leave. She's sexy and has the most attractive personality--polite, curious, light-spirited.
At some point I'm at a house with a pool. I'm observing a man find his house with a pool filled with strange kids. I follow the man into the main house and notice the high-end technology in his kitchen, but fail to comment on it. The man tells me it's the latest technology. I tell him I know. By this point I'm thinking of how it's bad form to mention the great quality of what one owns as that sort of thing generally speaks for itself. Except in the case of people.
"The things you look for in really bad terrorists -- like a beard." And the guy is some actor whose name I can't think of.Some online comic/game in a forum with a female elf/dwarf.
From the night before last:
I'm upset with a man. I'm under the impression we're either married or intimate, possibly both. The terms of our arrangement are exclusive so when I find him with another woman I'm surprised. Granted I hadn't been in love with him so his violation of terms wasn't especially hurtful, but I'm disappointed that now I must end the arrangement. I'm staring at the pair of them while also observing the timeline change. I can't work with someone I can't trust; breaking an agreement sets a tone of mistrust. Given our agenda, he was to be very useful. The timeline fades and the result is less impressive with his absence. Given this result I'm rearranging the sequence, trying to see if there's another way to get the task completed. I find just one alternative.
Dream changes. I'm walking with another man into an area that resembles a shopping center. Others are inviting us further inside while the masses are rushing toward the exit. Their eagerness to have us enter further is deceitful and when I search for the 'why' I see that we're to die here. It's not personal, there's just something about the man and me that fit their target audience. Nonetheless, seems like something I'd prefer to avoid. We turn around and leave. On our way out I see that man I'd had prior business with. I look at him from behind a tinted truck window. His truck window, oddly enough. Thing was, he had to be replaced. Replacing him changed a number of factors, regretfully. He doesn't seem to have any recollection that this was even his truck. It's as though his memories had been wiped clean of anything regarding our arrangement--including myself.
He's preparing to go inside the building. I'm aware he'll die here. When changes are made, an individual is saved, there's often a sacrifice. I wasn't expecting it to be him. I roll down my window and quietly say in regards to him, though not intending him to hear it, "I love you, Aiden." I've never liked goodbyes. I'm genuinely sad about this. I roll my window up.
Woke. Back asleep.
There's a house I've bought with a man and we scored in regard to the price. Our first night is spent downstairs in the living room and it isn't until I get up and accidentally find the restroom that I hear a loud clang. I'm startled and search for the source. After a few more ghostly experiences I realize this house is filled with demon inhabitants. Problem is I can't see them.
I go and inform the man. He's not bothered by the demons. I'm marginally bothered. Mainly because I hate being interrupted and 'home' should be a place with the least amount of interruptions. Selling would be a pain so I'm considering just coming to an agreement with them.
There's another house. The scene is shaky and I'm experiencing difficulty keeping myself here. I'm with a man again and we're hunting down a single, elusive entity. There's an overtone of darkness which makes the search interesting for me.
As I'm following the path toward that entity, I arrive at a field, follow the field to a large castle. There's at least hundreds of people here trying to attack the castle and the chaotic mess is something I want to weed through quickly, if I can. I manage to climb the castle and while at the top of it I notice a black sand beach. Lucidity begins kicking in as I look from the castle to the beach. I recognize the beach is higher than the land, so I must be dreaming. Now lucid I decide to explore the beach instead. I jump in. Others join me. It's gorgeous. So gorgeous that I'm losing the dream entirely as I begin to pass out in the water. A man's voice chimes in, narrator style: These waters are filled with crocodiles.
I open just one eye and look at the water. It's now murky with a green tinge to it. My other eye opens and I look around for the voice. That was entirely not necessary.
I can't find the source of the voice but I know I recognize it. It's the same narrator voice I've been hearing in dreams. Looking around everyone is still swimming. I'm trying to persuade my mind to forget the crocodile idea, but it's one of those things that's been set into motion and I feel it building. I continue my determination in forgetting the idea and return to floating on my back. The idea isn't fading. Seconds later a gator nose appears over my stomach. I've failed. I grab the nose and close it, then guide the gator in another direction.
The other swimmers scream and rush out of the water. I'm taking my time, being sure to complain to the voice that he got what he wants. I'll resume searching for that entity...because breaks are so overrated. We should work constantly, overextend ourselves, keep things chaotic and messy. Yes! Because that's what we do. Why should that change? I'll continue working for a mysterious voice, because transparency is so overrated too!
Pretty sure my enthused complaining is what caused me to wake.
We're reclined on a bed or couch. A man hands me a small glass. I take a shot. The room blurs after a second one. I'm laughing and stand for a second. The room spins faster. I giggle then collapse onto the plushy bed couch thing. He's staring at me. Offers another drink. I decline. It's obvious what he's doing; what's not obvious is why.
He tells me to try some pills. Tells me it'll make me feel better. I take the orange bottle and shake the pills around. Trying to figure out what type of pills they are. I can't tell. I hand them back. He refuses the bottle and pushes it back to me. I have a second look at the pills. Then at him. I sober myself up so I can get a better glimpse of his motives. I'm suddenly less bubbly about this experience. His goal isn't just sex. It's flirting along that agenda but it extends past it. May not even involve sex, but sex is definitely being used as a lure. I expected pointless down time by coming here--fun. I like letting my guard down, getting to be me. I hadn't expected games. Games like these are best played sober. I leave.
1. This dream played out like a movie, except instead of watching from the outside, I was a presence inside the girl’s head and I knew more about what was going on than her.
The girl is standing with a man. He asks her if she needs something to read, and when she says yes, asks which kinds of books she had. She answers, ‘nature and werewolves’. Apparently something had happened to her copies. I was waiting for him to react to the latter term because I ‘knew’ he was one.
He leaves, and she’s holding some kind of tablet of his. I think to snoop around in it but dismiss it. She puts it on the round table nearby.
She’s in a room. It’s really blurry here, but she gets really sick and pukes. She tries to reassure the man that it must be because she only ate twice that day. But I wonder if the man will suspect that it’s because she’s turning into a vampire herself and can’t process food normally anymore.
Meanwhile, I suddenly have this knowledge that the man is a vampire, and is looking for this sort of leader of the vampires, or at least his group, named Karen, and the girl could be her.
I remember that the girl had dark, longer hair with some kind of braided hairstyle. She was around 17-20 in age.
Inspiration: I’m wondering if the vampire thing naturally led to the girl being Elena from Vampire Diaries. IDK why I’m having so many werewolf dreams, they don’t even turn –into- werewolves in them!
2. Blurry fragment. I’m at this machine sitting on a counter looking at the option for these black plastic cups. You could get a smaller sized amount or 14. We needed 15 but I have no choice but to get the 14. Something about food. Gap. Mom is there and says something about being thankful for an extra cup being left there by someone. She pressed a button and a bucket thing with the cups in it starts descending down into the counter.
Inspiration: We have these sturdy plastic cups but there aren’t many left, and mom used some of them for something a couple of days ago and I was worried she was just going to throw them away after.
3. I was looking at some website that made me nostalgic. A lot of people made pages dedicated to certain things like a series or character, and they’d post a bunch of stuff on them like fanart and they were really popular, but they started getting deleted (maybe even by the people themselves) and then it sort of fell into disuse.
Inspiration: Gave me strong déjà vu, but I don’t recall a site like that. Maybe inspired by Tumblr+LJ, because I was thinking about it earlier.
4. Something about mom telling me Jack was working.
5. Grandma asks me about this cereal we have IWL, I answer back and she says that it’s going stale.
Inspiration: Me wondering if people would finish the cereal in time.
The setting of the dream was the farm where I lived as a teenager, but nothing about the plot resembled waking life, and my own character was an adolescent boy. I was the son of our tribe's chieftain, and another adult male in the tribe approached me with an offer. He wanted to buy my father's flower that was growing near the chicken house, offering me a groat in exchange. I refused, of course: the flower was not mine to sell.
On my way to the barn I passed the flower and glanced at it. It was beautiful and otherworldly, with large hanging bell-shaped blossoms of red and purple. I thought I had made the right decision by turning the man away. I went into the barn, the bottom floor of which was completely empty of everything but a pile of horse manure that had been gathered into the center of the space. This was a bit odd, but my thoughts were elsewhere.
I was remembering what the same man had done for the nuns: by giving them an iPad, he had eliminated their tendency to engage in other, more heretical, forms of augury. Had he been testing me? Obviously it would have been wrong to sell the flower for my own gain, but perhaps it was also wrong to refuse outright. I should tell my father about the offer and see if he might want to sell the flower after all. Perhaps he needs a groat.
I go talk to my father. He is not a human but a ring of flexible tissue suspended within a rigid round frame that forms an outer ring. My character, the young boy, is not surprised by this, but OOCly I find it odd. It is hypnotic to watch the creature talk: the inner ring changes shape, forming geometric and other patterns, while vibrating. Together the shape-changing and vibration sound quite similar to a human voice, though higher-pitched and with more vibrato.
I mention that I want to talk about so-and-so, the member of the tribe who offered me the deal (at the time I knew his name, but lost it on waking), and at once my father starts describing a recent encounter with the guy:
"We chat a while, then he tells me what a fine young man you are. I'm thinking, wowwww!" He emphasizes the word "wow," drawing it out with varying intonations a bit like a hippy or stoner might... and then the sound blends into the chime of my alarm going off and waking me. I was annoyed to be interrupted mid-dream!
1. Something disturbs me, and I get up and go look out my bedroom door just as someone comes in and passes me by. I see nothing out in the hall and turn back to look at the person – but there’s no one there.
Then I realized that I was awake. I don’t know if the whole thing was sleepwalking or if some part of it was a dream.
Inspiration: Probably from my door creaking because of the wind and me being paranoid.
2. Editing Kyou Kara Maou! on Goodreads.
Inspiration: Was thinking about how the KKM! light novels weren’t in the MyAnimeList database and wondered about Goodreads.
3. Me and Rane follow someone into a waiting room of sorts. I’m wearing a long skirt and a sleeveless, light blue denim shirt I think. I lean against the wall as Rane sits down. She pats the seat to her right, the only one of the four along that wall that’s available, and I go sit down.
I overhear someone talking across from us, something about a young girl (around 16) being engaged, and I see she’s obviously not ready for it and shake my head mentally. She had dirty blond hair in a ponytail.
Then a dog comes up to me and I greet it like I’m familiar with it. Only it turns away when I try to pet it. But then I see another dog and think that must be the one I know. There’s another, bigger dog as well, and I decide to just pretend to ignore them and let them get to know me at their own pace. They’re all brown-haired, two are coarse-haired and one is long-haired (the bigger one). The last one comes over and smells my hands in my lap and I let it without moving. When I think it’s okay, I move them to pet the dog but it moves away.
Now we’re standing at the door out talking to the man we came with. He’s asking us what food we want and gives us two options. The conversation is a bit vague, but Rane decides she doesn’t want the one, but instead ‘Cesserian food’. Mentally I’m a bit ‘hmmm’ because I don’t know if I’ll like it.
I’m in a room where someone is cleaning up stuff, there are papers with things written on them lying around and I realize some of it might be important. I go over and grab my dream journal and a clipboard with papers on it.
I’m in a bathroom that looks like the downstairs one IWL. I need to go but it’s totally clogged/gross and the seat is broke. I try to flush it but it doesn’t take care of it fully. I decide to try another one.
As I’m heading upstairs, I decide to go the bathroom up here; I know it’s always clean.
The man had given me some kind of item that was supposed to be a convenient way to transport yourself around.
I was scrubbing at this pillow with a rag or something until I thought the area was big enough to use. Then I pressed myself down onto it and waited to be transported. …But nothing happened. (I was expecting to sink down into it and reappear somewhere else.)
I remember getting frustrated before because I dribbled water down a little black and white notebook with words on the pages.
I was annoyed and went to tell mom about it. She told me a bit about how it was supposed to work, and that you can get a marker that works for 2000 strokes.
Inspirations: Thinking about going through mirrors and transporting through water. Thinking about my aunt and her husband. A mix of a story mom told me about my uncle. My aunt going into labor last night and mom leaving to go be with her made me think about waiting rooms.
Updated 03-15-2015 at 03:43 AM by 20026
I’m sitting on the end of a bed playing Pokemon on the TV across from me that’s on a black dresser - except I’m not using a remote, but my mind. I keep thinking that I need one to do certain things, but push on with my mind.
I end up being able to do things I wouldn’t otherwise, like flipping over a wall and getting ahead to a town I wouldn’t have so soon otherwise.
(I get déjà vu while thinking about that town, feeling like I had a similar dream before.)
A guy comes in to talk to a woman who’s behind me somewhere, and I get self-conscious about my state of undress and discretely either put on a shirt or pull it down over my chest. May have been wearing what I went to bed in.
Some bulky guy is trying to help me with a problem with Jazzy, I don’t want to have to do what he’s suggesting but it may be the only way, and I just want to help her.
I’m flying along a quaint path with forest on either side and sometimes fences. I want to fly faster and suddenly realize that I can make that happen. ‘Faster, faster!’ And I do, almost going too fast as I get close and personal with some of the fences, but I somehow manage to avoid crashing by rolling away midair and such.
-Saw someone else mention Pokemon in their dreams , but I also swear I remember seeing a post about it on Tumblr that made me think of the latest games.
-Last night I had a funny conversation with mom about how dad was covering up his chest after taking his shirt off. I wasn’t wearing a bra under my shirt and it got me thinking about male vs female top nudity.
-I wish the flying part was more clear in my memory ugh it looks like so much fun. I usually get lucid and then take off flying.
2. BL manga style dream.
Spoiler for Sexuality:
Two guys who are a couple are making out, and the slightly taller one didn’t mean to take it so far (the other guy had somewhere to be soon) but next thing, he’s preparing him for sex. But he doesn’t get far-
I feel like the shorter guy was some kind of religious figure. One of his fellow people come in to let him know it’s almost time, and he sees the taller guy who has dark, short hair leaning over the other one with light, tan short hair and just ~stares~ deadpan as the couple freezes.
Now the fellow person is leaning over the shorter guy, checking his ass to make sure he’s not damaged.
”Why do you have to do that? The whole reason I came here was to get away from stuff like that.” He says.
Inspirations: Definitely inspired by an ABO (Alpha-Beta-Omega dynamics) fic I was reading last night where a omega male becomes a priest because male omegas are rare and treated badly, so he starts up a shelter for people like him, but alpha males come and take that away, and he later meets someone and falls in lust/love with him, plus the style comes from BL manga which I read fairly often. It was probably in the POV of the top because that fic was in the POV of the alpha.
Updated 03-14-2015 at 04:06 AM by 20026
Ritual: WTB 1am, WBTB 6-7am recording NLDs, woke 7:45am with DILD + FA.
NLD, "Sparked": Walking home at night. Someone drives past in a dark vehicle and I say, "Turn on your lights!" Then I feel embarrassed when I notice she is actually walking. She enters the apartment two doors ahead of mine. The door next to her place is open, and there are people just inside it who give the impression that they are workers, not residents. My bed is the first thing I see when I open the door of my apartment, and I'm pleased to see a large box on it. Oh good, that thing I ordered has arrived.
After looking through the first box and strewing its contents, plastic wrap and styrofoam all over my bed, I open a smaller box that has also arrived. It contains a speaker that I ordered. When I first pull it out of the packaging I am disappointed: the surface is surprisingly dirty. Is it just shelfworn, or did I get a refurbished one by mistake? I'll be annoyed in the latter case, since I thought I was ordering a new one. There is some molded styrofoam that seems like the original packaging, if that's any clue.
The speaker weighs almost nothing, and I remember that this is a special lightweight system. It's portability is limited by its size, however, at about 8x10 inches. The back of it consists of flaps are supposed to fold together in a clever way. As I go to remove the last of the styrofoam supports, something unusual happens inside my head, like an electrical disruption.
I remain calm and think I'd better tell my roommates about this in case it incapacitates me and I end up needing medical attention, so I say aloud: "Hey guys, something weird just happened to me. I felt a "pop," saw a flash of white light, and now in the back of my head I hear a tone that is steadily increasing in frequency."
"You need more sleep," someone suggested. He could be right, but I didn't see the relevance. I do want to go back to bed but I'll have to clear all the box mess off it first.
What was happening to me? I had a contextual clue, at least: "It happened when I touched the speaker for the first time." Perhaps the device had built up some kind of strange electrical charge that I had triggered?
All this time the tone was whining to higher and higher pitches, and I waited with curiosity and slight anxiety to see what would happen next. When it seemed like it had become so shrill that it would soon pass beyond my auditory range, all that happened was that I woke up.
Note: The other day I read about "exploding head syndrome." This might have been a minor instance of it! The "popping" sound and flash of light are apparently classic symptoms. This is only the second time I've experienced something like this.
DILD, "Victorian Gentleman": I'm at a computer trying to order something online. I don't recall what it was, but the cost was over $200. There were some complicated webforms to navigate, and then after some difficulty finding my wallet, my credit card was missing. Meanwhile my stepmother-in-law comes over and offers to let me run her card instead. "No, no, no, no," I say quickly, trying to deter her, having just spotted mine on the table. Too late, she has already run her card and made the purchase. Well, that was nice of her, even if it wasn't what I would have asked for. I should show appreciation. I hug her and say, "Thank you."
Walking outside afterward, I have second thoughts. Was I rude to simply thank her? Maybe she hadn't intended the action as a gift. But even if she had, perhaps it would have been more polite of me to ask when she wanted me to pay her back, and that would give her the option to be magnanimous and say it wasn't necessary. But if she had assumed I would pay her back, wouldn't it be rude of her to create an extra hassle for me that I hadn't asked for? I had told her "no" and she did it anyway. I conclude that under the circumstances, my response was adequate and I should let it go.
As I walk back in the house, behind me I hear a man's voice, distinctively low and gravelly. It is really familiar. Who is that guy? I think he must live next door; I'm always hearing that voice. I sneak a look back before going in and spot him: he is older, gaunt, with straggly grey hair. I think he looks like an aging biker or a math professor (they can look more similar than you might think!)
I continue in the house and decide to repack my suitcase, which is in disarray, when it occurs to me... wait. I have the impression that I hear that man's voice all the time, but I suddenly suspect that I only hear it in dreams. Could this be a dream, then? I realize that it is. This gives me the confidence to go back outside and approach the guy, intending to find out who he is. I would not want to so brazenly walk up to a stranger in WL, but this is my dream so there is no reason to hesitate. As I step back through the door I find myself with handful of silver rings in my right hand that I am putting on the fingers of the left. Why did I grab so many? I'm going to have to put multiple rings on each finger to make them all fit.
Only one person is in sight now, a dapper gentleman in Victorian dress walking by from left to right. He has a neatly trimmed beard, a black frock coat, and a top hat. I've always been fascinated by that era, but in dreams I've never been successful in my attempts to meet historical figures. I wonder if he'll really acknowledge being from that time period. Maybe he's just dressing up?
I get his attention and ask, "Are you from the Victorian era?" He confirms it. I'm interested now so I start walking alongside him, suggesting, "Tell me about yourself." As he begins to reply, I look more closely at his face and realize that he is strikingly good-looking. On a whim I seize his arm and pull him off the road, then push him against the door of a nearby house and start kissing him, thinking meanwhile that in waking life I would never do this with a stranger. Though taken by surprise he responds willingly. The only thing marring the pleasure of the kiss is a little piece of fingernail in my mouth—I must have been biting them—and I try to move it with my tongue so it won't come into contact with his mouth, which would be awkward. During a break in the kissing I manage to swallow the bit of nail, and the gentleman never seems to notice.
After that interlude we continue together down the street. It's odd that I so quickly lost interest in my more intellectual inquiries and succumbed to mere erotic instinct... and annoying, in that I never did get to hear the DC's account of himself. My lucidity apparently faded quite a bit in the process (it was never very keen in this dream), because it doesn't occur to me to ask again, and instead I just walk along with little further thought.
We stop at a shop whose front opens right onto the street, and the gentleman wants to buy an unusual kind of candy that I've never seen before. It is some highly-processed, artificially flavored substance that comes in brightly colored plastic packages. The package can be activated in such a way that its contents will burst out like a foam snake. This is marketed to kids as a toy as well as a snack: they can have mock battles trying to hit one another with the candy snakes, then eat them afterwad. The girl minding the shop explains this to me while showing her a green stain spot on her T-shirt from where one of the candies had landed on her. So they stain clothes, too? I look down and am glad to see that I'm wearing something casual.
FA, "Let the Right One In": I wake up and get out of bed to record the dream. I don't notice anything unusual as I'm walking across the house, but pause in confusion as I go to sit down at my computer. Where's my chair? Why would my chair be gone? Surely I'm not dreaming? At first it feels improbable but gradually I realize that I am. Interesting... well, I want to explore this, but I don't want to lose my memory of the previous dream. It is still clear in mind, so I review the events and even recite a list of key words aloud to help fix my impressions. Then I look around to see what this new dream has to offer.
In contrast to the relative normality of the house, correct in layout but more sparsely furnished than normal, the view outside is catastrophic and extraordinary. A wide frozen river of swelling ice is flowing motionlessly where my patio should be, and cascading down toward the city in the distance. Just beyond it looms a mountain of pure white ice, with a matte, knobbly texture like that reminds me of spray-on styrofoam. Craning my head up, I can just see the narrow peak glittering in the sun. Everything looks incredibly clear and vivid, beautiful and frozen but apocalyptic.
The landscape is packed with people, whose clothes provide little patches of bright color. Bodies are frozen into the river and wander in groups along its banks. The only place free of people is the slopes of the ice mountain, steep and white and pristine. As I turn my gaze from the east, where I saw the river and mountain, to the south, the view becomes more grim. A whole crowd of people outside presses right up against the glass wall of my house, looking longingly inside, their bodies almost grey with cold and frost. I feel compassion for their plight, but I'm not sure what to do about it. My house is not big enough to accommodate even a fraction of the throngs who want to get in.
The people on the left, closer to the river, were all standing very still, but as I continue along the wall to the right, the people on this side are becoming more restless, with a few actively trying to break in. Some are attempting to cut holes in the glass. I wonder how long before they'll get through, and realize that I might need to start warding the walls against them. Then I see a segment of glass fall in, and realize that one woman has just succeeded in making a hole. It is about three feet high and a foot or so wide, in the shape of a narrow heart or mitten. Before she can slip through, I aim my flat palms toward the gap and begin to refreeze the glass (I don't seem to be distinguishing between ice and glass here). After a thin layer of glass or ice manifests over the hole, I pick up the piece that was removed and put it back in place, willing the gaps to fill in.
As I continue along the wall, the situation is getting even worse. There are already more holes. In fact, one woman has just crawled inside. I pick her up like a manniquin to remove her. The crowd is too think to restore her to ground level, so I toss her on top of the others... she can crowd-surf.
I come face to face with another woman who has made a hole in the glass. "You're not real, you're not real," I protest against her attempted incursion. It occurs to me that I should respond to her vaguely threatening presence with kindness. I embrace her and kiss her on the mouth, but she is oddly inert. It's like kissing a doll. I have nothing but a faint impression of staring blue eyes... blank eyes. "You're not real. Do you understand that? The reality of you is that you're not real."
She remains stiff and unresponsive, but doesn't back down, so I try an alternate tack. If she wants to get in the house so badly, then I will welcome her. I grab her arm and start tugging her inside. At this she actually resists, telling a woman standing near her outside, "Don't let go of my arm."
This is an interesting development. "Don't you want to come in?" I taunt. "A minute ago you were clamoring to come in." The dream ends.
Updated 03-13-2015 at 08:55 AM by 34973
After much nonsensical happenings I find myself in a small store purchasing seafood. One of the items are a gift I'm receiving; I'm handed a live octopus. While grateful for the potential calamari, I notice I'll need a container. There's a slight dream skip and I'm with a man and an older woman. There's gun fire, a chase happens, I'm more concerned over my purchase and would rather ignore the distractions. A car arrives and I'm torn between this desire to protect the woman (in the dream I seemed to know her and we had an arrangement) and the desire to complete my business. Seeing that the car is here, that she's inside now, it's clearly time to leave--sadly without dinner.
I get into the vehicle and the man has joined us. The three of us depart, still being shot at, I turn around to look out the window at those shooting. While doing so I notice a book on the counter.
I'm suddenly lucid. My main concern is why my old little smelly blue and red book is here. I need to go back to get it. I begin climbing over the woman in order to get out but she stops me. I explain that I need to get that book. It shouldn't be here. She tells me it's too late. I notice we're traveling faster now, the images are becoming distorted and not so much from passing them at higher speeds but it's as though they're being bent. Sort of like what I'd expect of the behavior from black holes where objects begin to bend. I really can't go back. I'm aware that if I do get out then I remain on this side of things; and while I don't fully comprehend what 'this side of things' means, I know it's something I'd rather not do.
Resigned by my loss I find myself contemplating what happens in the last half of the book. Having only gotten half way into it I've decided the writing and story-line are rubbish, the message obvious, yet there are elements within the work that surprise me. Queen Of The Sun: A Modern Revelation, while not my typical selection is a journey I hadn't wanted to leave unfinished.
(So naturally when I woke I pulled the book off the bookshelf and onto my nightstand, ha. Not the most exciting dream by any stretch but meh. A reminder to finish that book. Perhaps the ending will be useful in some manner.)