Night Vision

A classroom - another person and I are teachers there, but I’m aware the situation isn’t real without having identified it as a dream. Rather, I think of it as a story we’re making together. After some time eliciting answers from students on a certain topic, I think that we’ll need to pause and discuss making notes for each of them and their backstories as they become established.

There are some third-person scenes featuring the main character of possibly the same story. It’s like the beginning of a new plot arc. The dream shows an older mentor character with the two protagonists on a hill, a place they often go. Some kind of shadowy, inky blackness comes out of him and into them, and it’s shown heading from them onto a world map on a bulletin board. The blackness covers the entire map before gathering in a single spot that seems to be located approximately in the center of Texas. A pin moves to mark it, going all the way through the board. The protagonist girls are puzzled when they return and see it there. The board seems to be in one of their rooms.

1.3.25


I am in a large building with an industrial vibe, alone. I’m exploring this place in a deliberate way, almost as if it were a video game. There’s no sense of any immediate threat, or anybody or anything else around, but I’m still keeping a close eye on my surroundings.

At the end of a hallway, I find a sort of utility room behind a door, and a staircase to the right takes me upstairs, where there’s an electrical panel in a location directly above it. I examine the panel. I know I have to disarm the security system to get any further in, but it’s going to be tricky. Once I get started, I’ll only have a limited time to finish, and I’ll have to be going back and forth between here and the room downstairs. It’s already getting late, so I figure it'll be better to come back here tomorrow instead of trying to do it now.

5.3.25


A place similar to the one in yesterday’s dream - speaking with a man, something about him going to retrieve my body if I die there.

6.3.25


It is a foggy day, and I’m going to use it as an opportunity to sneak into the yard of the neighbor across the street and see what’s there. I’ve heard all kinds of weird rumors about it, and the area back there looks very interesting on my maps. (Why do I have maps, you might ask? That’s a very good question….)

It is a unique-to-dream setting, and I start by flying to the top of an extremely tall tree in the front yard. The branches are bare, as if it’s still early spring. I figure they’re less likely to see me if I enter like this, from above. I fly across and land in back of the house. From there, things get a little unclear - lots of conversations with strange beings that are back there. But there’s definitely something off about the whole place.

—

I’m on board a ship. I start out on the deck - I think there may also have been some parts before this - and go inside, where I almost immediately find the person I’m looking for, who seems to be loosely based on a musician I know but haven’t seen for more than a year now, J. We go back out, and I ask him about routes that we can take to our destination. We actually seem to be in a city waterway, so there are buildings and other ships visible around us.

J tells me about the first route, which seems to be through some kind of a narrow pass. He indicates the direction it’s in. Even before he starts describing the other, I know that’s the one we’ll be taking, even if it is almost certainly the more dangerous of the two. We’d have a tailwind all the way there - it’s too good to pass up.

14.3.25


I am in a grocery store - yet another one, with another unfamiliar layout. It isn’t all that familiar to me in the dream, either. I’m looking for some crumbled pecans for a recipe but am having trouble finding any. I check back again in the aisle that the entrance of the store led directly into, since that seems like the most likely place, but still no luck.

While this is going on, some employees of the store are trying to get everyone there to join them in singing sea shanties, apparently as some kind of obligatory fun somebody somewhere thought up. And they really seem to be enforcing participation, so I join in, but it’s distracting me from the pecan search, so I stop again to focus on that.

Eventually, I figure that they must just not have any pecans, so I get a bag of almonds instead, figuring those will also work.

21.3.25

In the earliest part of the dream I can remember, I'm reading a news article online. It’s about an odd discovery that was recently made—what seemed to be a fossilized person on a bicycle.

I pull up a map website so that I can have a better idea of where the places I’m reading about are. It starts off as a map of Europe—more or less. The only major difference I can remember was seeing a series of small countries along the (more or less) Baltic Coast.

The place I’m interested in is further west of that, around Luxembourg, I'd say. I zoom in until it’s more like looking at a satellite map, and I can see the spot the story is talking about: a place in the woods where the grass gives way to gray rock, and in the rock, the figure of the cyclist can be clearly seen in profile, looking rather cartoonish.

I look up and find I’m not looking at a screen on a computer anymore: I’m actually there in the forest. And there’s only one way that’s possible: I’m dreaming.

The gray rock isn’t there anymore. There’s just forest in every direction—deciduous forest, with foliage that isn’t so thick it blocks out the sunlight. I pick a direction and start walking, not having any particular goal in mind.

The forest is quiet and still: there don’t seem to be any animals around. The only notable feature of this place is the mushrooms I see growing in small groups among the undergrowth every few meters. They’re red with white spots—obviously fly-agaric. I recall a recent discussion on DreamViews about hallucinogens in lucid dreams: what would happen if I ate one? I’ve never been curious enough to try it before—I wasn’t even curious enough to read the thread, for that matter—but here they are, and here I am. Guess I’m going to find out.

I get down close to a group of them, pull a piece off a small one and put it in my mouth. But then I see that the mushrooms aren’t mushrooms anymore: they’re red flowers now, poppies by the looks of it. Still in an experimental frame of mind, I pull off some petals and chew on them. They’re completely flavorless and slightly cool. It is an extraordinarily realistic experience of eating flower petals.

Shortly afterwards, I wake up.

(7.8.18)