Thread: Spicefiend's Dream journal

It is a bright, cheerful day and there is not a cloud in the sky. I leave the Country Market, playfully dangling a plastic grocery bag from my hand. I pass under the blooming cherry and by the old church with red doors which now serves as a house to the local recluse. I should have passed another house but came upon an empty concrete lot instead. I look behind me and can see the Country Market and the old church. Ahead of me is a 3-story crumbling apartment building and to my left is a burnt out warehouse.

A man with stringy, black, shoulder-length hair exits the warehouse, while a shorter man crosses to my side of the street. I recognize the meaning of the symbols sewn on their clothing and realize that they are from rival gangs and I am about to witness a fight. I continue on, nonetheless, swinging my grocery bag back and forth. They are focused intently on each other and don't even notice I'm behind them.

They are parallel now, staring each other down and walking forward at a very slow pace. They pause and I see quick bursts of silver flashes and realize the gangsters have drawn knives.This still doesn't phase me and I keep on walking.

I am just about to walk past them when both men stop their violent engagement and turn on me, whirling their blades. I managed to dodge their advancements and run across the streets to see that Squall from FF8 had acquired an unusually large armored truck and is rushing it towards the two gangsters.

He's also wearing an Indiana Jones hat.

Squall scattered the gangsters, but something had gone wrong and he rolled the truck. From inside the cab he kicks down the damaged windshield and crawls through it to get onto the hood. He curses and punches the hood. I can't say I blame him. After all, it was a pretty bad a** truck.

I find myself in a poorly lighted wasteland. There is dark clouds overhead and dark mist everywhere else. From time to time, a thunderbolt would strike the surface of this dead land and briefly illuminate the crags and tooth shaped rocks raised soberly from the ground.

I did not want to be here and had only come to find my boyfriend. He was lost, but I could feel his presence within the dark mists that crept mournfully about this godforsaken place. So I plunged into the mist and called out for him. It seemed I roamed for a while, sometimes walking clear out of the fog. I hadn't given up though because it felt that I was hot on his trail.

It wasn't much longer when I find him. I stand before a swirling form of black shadow and I know he is just beyond on it. I step forward and reach with my hand into the shadow to grasp him. A dark tentacle whips around my arm, but after a short struggle I pull free and step quickly back.

A black mean-eyed octopus emerges from the shadow roaring gruesomely. He is enormous, the bulk of him a mass of large, writhing, reaching tentacles that extend towards me.

At first I am only puzzled, thinking, "I thought octopuses were friendly." And I recall the local stories of large, colorful octopuses living under Deception Pass bridge who don't seem to mind the curiosity of humans.

Surprise turns quickly to terror as the beast pushes his obese body towards me. I futilely struggle to get away but his arms have wrapped around me now and I hear myself scream.

And I woke up screaming, finding myself at the foot of my bed.

April 30th

I'm cooking with a Japanese friend. He is a kind, elderly gentlemen that smiles a lot. I don't know his name. We made appetizers for a dinner we are to attend and had just finished putting the foods decoratively on square, black plates.

There is something else that needs to be made, but we're not sure of what else to bring. I think about foods that are in my refrigerater.

"Pickled gingerroot?" I suggest, but my friend shakes his head.

"Well, what would you like?" I ask.

"Rice." He replies.

I almost say that I have rice in my cubboard, but then I remember that my supply was pretty low. Not enough for a dinner party. I offer to drive us to the nearest Asian foodstore.

When we arrive, the store is surrounded by young kids pelting the building with rocks and any other objects within their reach. I park the truck and weave my way through the chaos, managing not to get bombarded into.

I make it inside the store, but things are just as bad as it was in the parking lot. There are teenagers vandalzing the place. They are writing on the walls, destroying furniture, and ripping tiles off the floor. I pass them by and head up to the second floor and walk into the office. The owner is there along with his assistant. They are hurriedly looking through paperwork, but otherwise unconcerned of the disorder below.

"Hello Bill." I say to the owner, who nods and smiles in return. I ask him for a bag a rice, which he seems more the happy to sell me. I am about to ask him about the rioting kids outside, but my telephone wakes me up instead.

5/1/2004

I had gone to the salon to get my hair trimmed. The stylist cuts a few inches off and spends some time dressing it. When I look in the mirror, I see she has done a marvelous job and I go about my day strutting proudly.

It wasn't until I came home and ran my fingers through my hair did I realize what the wicked stylist had done. She had shaven the lower part of my head!

"To reduce the thickness." I recall her saying.

Horrified, I could only stare agape at the atrocity. It was a moment or two before I acknowledged my hair would eventually grow back. I would have to cut it, of course, so all the strands were even. It would look tacky, otherwise.

Still, I couldn't help but mourn at that thought. All those years it took to get my hair at the length it was, only to be undone by an evil stylist!

** Naturally, I woke up and patted the lower part of my head just to make sure all my hair was still there.

5/3/2004

I'm at the supermarket and stop at the bakery to grab a couple maplebars to munch on while I shop. I turn around to see my former friend, HD, strolling through the many tables offering cookies, cupcakes, rolls and other assorted breads.

She sees me and asks if she can help me find anything. I decline her offer and stroll over to the dairy section. Coffee creamer, coffee creamer. I recall myself thinking and I find some and add a bottle to my grocery cart.

I walk down another isle and find a shelf of Elfquest products. There are t-shirts of the comic book characters stuffed in individual sodapop cans. There is also 12 t-shirts crammed in a coffee-can type tin. But I am not interested in the shirts and eagerly leaf through the richly colored comic books instead. I see the first episode and promptly add it to my grocery cart.

Another book captures my attention. It seems to be illustrated and written by the same good folk who created Elfquest, but it was not Elfquest. The cover had a large, golden lion springing from Earth into space. There was a rainbow, pastel-colored planets, and gallexies in the background.

I think that the authors of Elfquest are clearly making a tribute to C.S. Lewis. Which prompts me to add it to my cart without thinking twice. I know that my boyfriend would be irritated I spent 10 bucks on the book when we are low on funds for the rest of the week, but I don't care.

I wait in line to buy my items and look forward to flopping on the couch with my new books, when my alarm clock went off.

Sleep Paralysis

One fall evening when I was home alone, I fell asleep on the couch in a very awkward position. I was, or thought I was, just at that threshold between sleep and consciousness when I heard the kitchen door swing open and shut. Someone was in my house!

I try to roll off the couch and onto my feet to confront the intruder but my limbs are frozen! I open my eyes and I can see my legs and I struggle to move them, but they do not respond. Meanwhile, I hear the creak of my cupboards opening and closing. I recall my boyfriend suspecting our landlords and neighbors of entering our house to steal our food while we are away and I wonder if is they who are responsible for my immobility while they rummage through my kitchen.

I continue to strain against my paralysis, willing my legs, my arms to move. Though I cannot see, I sense the entity leave the kitchen and approach the TV room where I lay restrained. He/she/it is stepping up the two steps to the TV room now. I close my eyes, knowing if I kept them open I may seem something dreadful.

Finally, I quit resisting the hold on my body and I have one last fleeting sensation of my deviant visitor lingering over me before I plunge gladly into oblivion.

I am high in the mountains. So high that there is no vegetation growing any where. Everything is bare, there isn't even any snow. It also seems to be sunset because the rocks, the boulders, the whole atmosphere has an orange/rosy cast to it.

There are other people mountaineering with me, but I seem to be the only one wearing a dress. For some reason my landlady is there. Upon seeing her I realize something isn't right and seconds later it hits me that I'm dreaming.

"I am dreaming." I announce aloud, clenching my fists.

"I am dreaming!" I confirm with joyous conviction.

Without a second thought, I take a running leap off the nearest cliff. I bound upwards, arms outstretched. It is a wondrous feeling and I indulge a sense of triumph. I had been waiting for this for a long time.

Its a very short-lived glee. I glance down and see the jagged mountain range below me. Even though, I know this is only a dream my confidence falters and I begin to loose altitude. Then I fall completely and lose lucidity.

The remainder of the dream I do not remember.

<img src="http://www.dreamviews.com/forum/style_emoticons/default/banana.gif" style="vertical-align:middle"/>
You had a lucid dream. You will gain confidence. You where the pants in your dreams

5/15/2004

Someone asked me if I was to fly any spaceship which one would it be?

"The Ragnarok!" I instantly replied, humming the theme song to myself. That theme song was primarily the reason I liked that ship so much.

"I agree!" said a cheerful, dark-haired girl and she began to hummed the theme song with me.

I woke up after thinking that I had made a new friend.

-------------------

I'm guessing this dream has something to do with my excitement about SpaceshipOne coming so close to space last friday!

Sounds like your wheels were spinning before you went to sleep.
Try ,for curiosity to write the day down along with the date. I am curious to know but 90% of my vivid dreams happen on sunday &amp; tuesday?????

It just accured to me that posting on your journal might be somthing you would rather not have in there. Sorry I can PM you from now on if you like about comments on your journal. Also A moderator could probably delete my posts if you wish

Comments are always welcome!!

An oldie...

I am looking at America during the Great Depression. There are many hobos about, all them very haggerd and dirty, hovering over tiny fires as they wistfully reminisce about the good days.

Alison Kraus is singing "Down to the River to Pray."

Just as though I was watching a country music video, I watched her sing as she traveled on foot, worn out and ragged. It seems everyone is no longer warmed by the fire, but by her the peaceful and hopeful message to her song. She is cheerful and optimistic as she looks about the poverty around her.

The scene of the 'video' changes from time to time and I see her face on the dusty window of a tiny fishing shack, singing the chorus of her song.

Her song ends as she bounds happily away from the hobo camp, accompanied with a couple fellow bumpkins.

I'm at an Amish Community. A pretty, middle aged woman with long hair escorts her young boy, about 13, into an old barn. She urges her son to kneel in the straw and then departs quietly.

Also in the barn is a teenage girl, quietly reading to herself. I can tell by her probing stare that she is contemplative and wise. Her brown hair is tied back with a dark blue ribbon that matches her plain, long, formless dress.

She regards the boy silently as he raises his hands at though reaching for her and begins to recite Shakespeare.

"Oh, the fair Beth..." He begins, his voice ringing loudly, echoing throughout the barn.

Kris Kringle is sleeping in an empty stall nearby and is awakened by the boy's carefree voice. He rises, his face red with irritation.

"You noisy, damn kids!" He bellows and shoulders a belled harness most likely intended for one of his reindeer.

Beth stands and begins to move toward the ladder. "We're sorry, Mr. Kringle!" She apologizes as she climbs toward the hayloft.

The boy watches her leave, bewildered. She pauses and turns to him saying urgently, "Fly, you fool!"

I am moving furniture and personal belongings into a dorm room. I whistle as I unpack and settle in, for I look forward to have space of my own. Glancing around the room, I notice everything is in blue and grey. Even my pillows and bedsheets have these colors. I also notice that the room has very nice light.

I have finished settling in and walk into the hallway. I am alarmed to see my boyfriend, whom I live with in my waking life, moving into a dorm room nearby. I approach him and protest.

"What about the cats and dogs? Who will take care of them?" I ask, as my heart sinks thinking they were by themselves now.

He sneers and tells me that he could careless about our animals.

I return to my room, worried and upset and I begin to wash my dishes. My sister comes over, accompanied by a boy who's face I never got to see. As much as I enjoy visits with my sister, I was very distressed and ignored them.

While I was scrubbing furiously on a casserole dish, someone embraced me from behind. The dish falls to the bottom of the sink as I tense up for a moment. I then lean back into the comforting arms of whomever was behind me and time seemed to stand eireely still.

Then, I am between the sheets of my bed. I am in tears, clutching tissues. I notice, once again, the blue-gray shades of my room and cry some more.

I am in an RV, driving around the countryside with my youngest sister and my Mother, who has just been elected Govenor. My mother is at the wheel, clearly thrilled with her new position. My sister, so very apathetic, could care less and lounges on the couch watching VH1.

We stop for the evening by the sea. My boyfriend has arrived to share the celebration. He nudges me and points to the stormy waters that have recently surrounded the RV. A shark is circling nearby. I then realize that Max, the family dog, was also outside, swimming in the waters. I watch in horror as the shark attacks him and drags him under the water.

But its not too late to save my cats! I rally the aid of the others and we usher all the cats inside the RV.

We are driving in the lovely bay country side now. The storm had been replaced by clear skies and sunshine. Everyone is in good spirits, especially my Mother who is being silly at the wheel. Not paying much attention to what she is doing, we round a corner and she runs over three of her own campaign signs. She doesn't even notice!

I tell her what she has done and she and denies it. I challange her to turn around and see for herself. So she does and as we are driving back, I think to myself, "The signs won't be there, because I am in a dream..."

Then I wake up.

There is a tiny shack in a very barren and desolate land that has recently become the center of a vey important archaeological site. It is a very depressing scene. The land is so empty and wretched that it looks as though it was struck by an atom bomb.

As I approach the shack, I see shrouded women all around it, wailing in despair and gesturing wildly to the sky in anquish and grief. I recognize the style of their garb and realize they are Hindu.

I enter the shack and stare at the ground in horror. The archaeologist have dug a hole about the size of a small pick up truck. What is at the bottom of that hole is ghastly and chilling.

Someone, long ago, had killed Hindu children and arranged their skulls and bones to represent a grim 'tapestry' of Mohammed as a child. They have even painted these remains in colors of gold and blue. Muhommed reminds me of a Hindu god who's name I don't know, except that he is frequently colored blue.

I can't remember the remainder of the dream.

Glad you woke up from that one!
It is good to see that your dream recall is improving
That in addition to doing reality checks will all but help your odds of becoming lucid.
(more vivid details in your dream with colors)

I'm sitting at my desk contemplating where I would go to lunch. Perhaps taco bell for its cheap, but tasty burritos with extra red sauce, cheese, and onions. Yum! That settles it for me. I turn to my monitor to browse a few of my favorite websites (perhaps I am at dreamviews) but I soon overhear the raised voice of an angry customer whom I recognize as Mr. Y, a man I ordered DSL for.

He is threatening to cancel service with us over a dispute with his bill. He didn't get to use his DSL right away because we were unable to install drivers for a network card on his computer. It was extremely difficult because, we were helping him over the phone and his computer was in Japanese. He was also running Windows 98 and it wasn't even the Second Edition!

Mr. Y is one of my favorite customers and I did not want to see him get stuck with a hefty penalty fee for breaking his contract with us. I run up to the front counter where he sees me and smiles warmly. "Hello Jessica." He says and bows his head. I am relieved he is not so angry with me and I gently reminded him that his contract would start the day the DSL was activated and I told him that myself, before I ordered the service for him. Verizon doesn't care whether his computer was properly equipped or not. He nods, not exactly pleased, but business was business and he understood that.

After Mr. Y paid his bill, I decide it is time to take lunch. I tell my boss, D, that I am going to Taco Bell and he gives me a few dollars to pick up some tacos for him. I'm just about to leave when I look out in the parking lot and see that my car is gone. J, the Systems Administrator, smirks and tells me that there are two policemen in the back speaking with my boyfriend, S about my car. Apparently, my neighbor had 'borrowed' it.

S emerges from the back accompanied by the two policemen. I'm quite angry that S would allow our neighbor to borrow the car. Our neighbor seemed to me a rather sneaky fellow who had come over to borrow a few things in the past and had never returned them. I throw D's money back on his desk and return to my own. "There goes lunch!" I think to myself and glare at my computer monitor.

10/20/2004

First Dream

My friend Joy and I have gone to the coast of Oregon to surf with our snowboards. I observe the more graveled than sandy beaches and the dense evergreens lining the banks and am reminded of our homestate, Washington. I comment to Joy that it feels like we're at Deception Pass and she agrees, not looking up from the straps of her snowboard.

We're wadding around in the water now, our snowboards floating idle nearby. It seems we have an admirer, for a young man zooms past us on his jetski, back and forth, quite frequently. Joy wonders aloud when he's going to call up the nerve to actually come and speak with us. Perhaps he heard because soon afterwards he is treading water with us or joining us for a beer on the beach. He talks about about the surf and the boards and other things. He reminds me of Jonathon Schaech from 'How to make an American Quilt.'

He's back on his jetski now while Joy and I swim about. He's showing off, doing handstands and other stunts. He somehow manages to jump his machine and the weight of it, as it comes down, creates a large wake. Joy is alright, but I'm shoved under the surface by the impact. At first, I am not alarmed. After all, I had been swimming in deep waters where there was no danger of crashing into rocks. I cannot recover. I struggle to swim up to the air but my body moves sluggishly and I sink to the bottom.

My new friend, the Jonathon Schaech look-alike, is by my side instantly. He grabs my arm and launches up. We do not gain more then a few feet before we sink. He sinks with me because he hasn't let go of my arm. He hasn't given up. I could sense his urgency and I am touched by his struggle to save me. "It won't be long before I'm gone." I think calmly to myself and look about my watery grave. I am surprised by how well I can see. Everything is crystal. I see the oceanbed and the smooth rocks lining it in vivid detail. I see my hair floating upwards past my face, waving like seaweed. I see the concerned expression of my rescuer and past him, the afternoon soon glittering across the rippling surface. He is haloed by the light. It is beautiful.

End Dream.

Second Dream (after waking up at 4am)

Joy is with me again. I had recently moved and she has come to visit me at my new home. We're sitting cross-leg on my bed and I say to her, "I had a dream with you in it." And I proceed to tell her about the occurrence on the Oregon coast. She laughs at the idea of surfing on snowboards and grins playfully as I talk about the Jonathon Schaech look-alike. I sense a teasing coming and picture her poking me in the ribs, saying "Wooo! Jonathon Schaech! Are you sure you don't remember anything... anything else? Are you holding something steamy back?" And we will laugh and I will say "No. Unfortunately." And feign great disappointment and we will laugh some more.

I think, 'Its going to be great to be able to laugh with my friends again.'

End dream.