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    1. Not Exactly a Bank Robbery

      by , 09-29-2017 at 03:29 PM
      Morning of September 29, 2017. Friday.



      My dream self decides to rob a bank. My conscious self is partially extant in having memory of my marriage and family, though I also seem much younger physically and mentally, by several years before I was married.

      I go into a bank. I have a revolver, but I never use it. I calmly sit down at a desk where an unfamiliar female is working. I give her a note that tells her to give me all the money. She calmly seems to begin to get some together and does not seem frightened.

      At one point, the bank manager, an unfamiliar male, walks into the room from my left. He stands for a short time watching us but does not seem to suspect anything.

      Eventually, the female hands me a large envelope. I take it and leave. I decide to become invisible, though I also phase through the wall of the bank in case there is security at the entrance. I fly around for several minutes, still maintaining invisibility. (This of course is non-lucid dream control. My subconscious self does not know I am dreaming, but a subliminal thread of my conscious self does.)

      I end up at Marilyn’s house (Marilyn is an older half-sister on my mother’s side), except that I do not recall that she had died and she appears as she did in the 1980s. It is also not her house (as in America) as in real life but a variation of the Barolin Street house in Australia where Zsuzsanna and I and our family last lived. There also seem to be some elements of Evelyn’s house of which I last visited in real life at age five.

      I think I see a police car stop in front of the house, though the top of the car soon seems to have some sort of metal part like a luggage rack rather than a police car’s strobe light device. At least five men, all of whom look exactly alike and are wearing some sort of yellowish-brown uniform, come into the house. I decide to hide in the basement via the trapdoor in the bathroom (though the Barolin Street house did not have a basement, this feature based on the Loomis Street house) but I soon change my mind when I see they are just visiting my relatives.

      I open the large packet that I was given at the bank. I first seem to see colorful foreign money, but then I realize there is no money in the packet. There are a few documents. There are a few pieces of paper with poetry about family. There are also a number of small transparent packets of herbs which she apparently thought would benefit me. One of the packets apparently contains alfalfa, yet it actually says “alpaca” on the label. I puzzle over this until my dream fades.


      Categories
      non-lucid
    2. Hero Me

      by , 09-29-2014 at 06:51 AM
      Morning of September 29, 2014. Monday.



      Much of the first part of my dream was bizarrely distorted with only the ending sections being more coherent and memorably detailed. I am sitting on a bench along the wall of a bank, in the corner of the very large room. Perpendicular to my seat is a counter where two young unknown female tellers are working to my right. Apparently, I am there to help in the progress of an upcoming bank robbery. I am contemplating this and have decided that instead, I will help stop the planned robbery.

      Eventually, two bizarre older twin male characters come in and I know that they are the ones to begin the robbery. They are only about four feet tall and move in a very odd manner, their bodies being almost like penguins. One of them jumps several feet into the air for some unknown reason. I alert the tellers to the planned robbery and feel that I have changed from being a villain into being a hero, as if it were some sort of important back story to my dream. It feels very precise and realistic even though it does not at all relate to my real life in any way.

      After this, I walk out into an area adjacent to the bank’s parking lot, which seems like some sort of composite of an outdoor library and magazine vendor (recurring - possibly an in-dream continuous “rebellion” or in-dream “law” of being told “this ain’t no library, kid” when looking at a magazine from the shelf of a vendor in real life in childhood). The vividness of my dream peaks the most at this point, as well as with more realistic detail and bright colors. There are a lot of interesting magazines and books on display. There is a harmonious awareness and I feel a sense of peace. I notice one magazine spread that is about eye-level on the shelf. It is a two-page photograph (seemingly taken outside or on a veranda) of a male (from about the shoulders up) with long dark hair and a partly indiscernible, yet somewhat stoic expression. He looks much like me (but I do not recognize the image as such in-dream) but perhaps ten or more years older. I perceive it as possibly a composite of Carl Sagan and Isaac Asimov (except the male is not wearing glasses) or one of the two (though the male in the photograph looks Native American for the most part), yet there is also a vague idea that he is a rock star. I look to my right on a shelf perpendicular to the one I am studying and see another copy of the magazine that is displaying the spread (with other copies in the same general area). It is a National Geographic magazine that is closer to A4-sized rather than its smaller digest size. I recognize the design and yellowish colors and vignettes and soon see the wording.

      Instead of looking into the magazines more, I find my dream losing a bit of vividness. I notice other people behind me and to my right who are sitting at picnic tables reading other books from the outdoor “library”. I turn right and “walk out of my dream” with seemingly semiconscious intent.