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    Oneironaut Zero: Dreamwalker Chronicles




    So, this is my new journal. (Ask me about a link to my old journal, from 2005 - 2010) Not much to say, that my original intro didn't say. I began lucid dreaming as a response to vivid nightmares, as a kid. Over the years, I learned how to wake myself up, when I knew I was having a nightmare, which later developed into a curious resolve to stay within the dreams, instead of trying to escape. Now I practice lucid dreaming and dream control regularly (or as regularly as my undisciplined ass can stick with it). Most of my lucid dreams are still spontaneous, but I have my fair share of successes with induction methods, when I apply myself. Lucid dreaming has become a beloved hobby of mine, both for adventure and because of my deep-seated interest in consciousness, psychology, and the human mind, in general. It also just happens to be a hell of a lot of fun.

    So...that's about it. I guess all that's left on the agenda is the ol' disclaimer:

    In short; by reading my dream journal, you are hereby in agreement to forfeit the right to use any
    information or situations, herein, against me...for any reason...under any circumstances...
    ...Ever.


    (After all, they are just dreams.)

    Enjoy.



    My Deviant Art page

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    Todd's (aka My Main Dude) Epic Waking Life Adventure / Blog

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    1. 03/05/2011 and 03/10/2011 - "Out to Clean Up the Streets", Fragment

      by , 04-21-2011 at 04:44 PM (Oneironaut Zero: Dreamwalker Chronicles)
      03/05/2011
      "Out to Clean Up the Streets"


      I was on the streets of a suburban area. I have a vague recollection of a few different confrontations, within this setting. First, there was a gang of thugs who kept harassing my crowd. Then, at some point later, there were bomber planes swooping in and dropping ordinance all over the neighborhood area. I became lucid, among all these occurrences, and started messing around with telekinesis, just to be sure that this was all a dream; raising my hand to the sky and controlling the paths of some of these bomber jets with my mind.

      Sometime while I was lucid, there was another scenario involving a run-in with thugs. I was with a few friends, and a car pulled into the area, machine gun fire spraying from within. The bullets screamed through the area where we had been standing, and I could feel them tearing into my lower body. It hurt a little, but not enough to take me down. They just left me kind of numb, fighting off the convincing atmosphere, and trying to hold onto my realization that none of this was really happening. I remember running out from behind a hiding spot - which I'd taken up instinctively - and trying to chase them down, being peppered with more bullets as the car sped away. Ultimately, the whole experience was too intense and unclear for me to completely take control and catch up to them. I trailed off to one side, falling behind, still feeling the lingering sensation of the imaginary bullets that had shredded through my imaginary body. I held my hands up in front of me, trying to hold onto the dream, and bringing everything back into an extreme level of clarity while looking at my features.

      Time went by, and I was still lucid, having a conversation with some of the DC's I was hanging out with, earlier. I started levitating small objects with my mind, to try to prove to them that I was dreaming. We were in someone's house, and sitting around in the living room and I was getting a little bored, trying to think of something to do. Finally, I said that I was going to go after those guys that did the drive-by, again. One of these DC's was the most vocal about his skepticism of the whole lucidity thing. He said that I was stupid to even try going after the thugs, because he apparently thought I was going to die. I argued with him for a moment, telling him that he was acting just like all of the other oblivious DC's. I tried to explain to him all of the weird occurrences; the gang activity; the bombings; etc. It was all classic dream content. He wasn't buying it. Oh well. The last thing I remember about this moment was picking up one of the DC's little kids, to play with him for a minute, before I left.

      Soon, I was back out on the street. I was looking around for the car that did the drive-by, and plotting out my course of action. I wanted to try something new, so instead of using telekinesis as a weapon, or looking for another weapon to take on, I decided to morph my arm into one...a rocket launcher. I had morphed my arm into a blade before, but never any complex machinery. It was almost effortless. I held my arm in front of me, passively visualizing a textbook transformation. My arm began to change and shift; smoothly and organically, in some places, but in sections and compartments, in others. Within a matter of seconds, I was wielding a red and yellow rocket launcher that looked like it was straight out of Unreal Tournament. The visual detail was just incredible. It looked completely unique, yet almost too incredibly intricate to have been made up, on the spot. Since my arm was the weapon, there was no trigger, so I pretty much 'willed' myself to shoot the weapon - and firing it was awesome. With one shot, a swarm of missiles scurried out of the barrel(s), screaming wildly out to a car that was parked on the street. All 3 or 4 missiles converged on the spot and blew the car to shit, lighting up the darkened streets and alleyways around me. I never ended up going after the thugs. I just walked up and down the street for a while, popping off rounds from this bad ass weapon.

      Eventually, I had found another group of DCs, and I was showing off more lucid tricks to them. At one point, I drew a door on the wall with a marker or pencil, then I opened the door, revealing another door, inside. I then opened this new door, and found a slender, wooden beam which I slid out of the wall. It turned out to be a few feet long. After that, I stuck my arm in the hole it left behind, and continued pulling stuff out. Can't remember everything that I pulled out of the wall, though.




      03/10/2011
      Fragment

      I was having a 'superspeed' foot-race, with family and friends. We were all crouched at the starting line, and everyone kept trying to cheat; jumping into false-starts and whatnot. I was able to get everyone to calm down just a little bit, but the start of the race was still ugly as hell; everyone stutter-stepping into their run, and no one really starting at the same time.

      The actual race was amazing, though. We were tearing across the terrain like Sonic the Hedgehog; running so fast that, even when we got out to the ocean, we just kept on running over the top of the water. The whole thing actually had kind of a Mario-Kart feel to it. In fact, I think one of the characters was actually Mario, at one point. I believe it might have been Todd, but I'm not sure. All I know is that he was on my heels, the entire race.
    2. 03/04/2011 - "Beachfront-line"

      by , 03-21-2011 at 04:07 AM (Oneironaut Zero: Dreamwalker Chronicles)
      03/03/2011
      "Beachfront-line"


      I was with LS. She had come over to chill, and we got to talking. Conversation was heading down the road to sex, and we were soon making out in bed. It was late, though, and she was getting tired. She said she would have stayed, but she had more errands to run, before the night was over. While she got ready to leave, I walked out into the rest of the house. I was now in my old house in Lake Mary. My parents were here, and they were up, late at night, apparently snooping around, trying to see what I was up to. One of them told me that I had to clean of the back porch - really fighting for it, because I think I was supposed to do it earlier, but didn't. So...I did, and trudged my way back into the room door I'd just come out of. By that time, LS had passed out. I don't remember whether or not I woke her up to go to wherever it was she had to go.

      The next morning, LS, some other friends and I were preparing for a huge house party, on the beach. I can't remember whose house it was, but I think we were helping to host. Early on in the afternoon, some static broke out, between BM and a group of Latin roughnecks. BM was completely amped up, and was ready to about kill all of them. Those of us who were responsible for the party moved in and restrained all of the would-be fighters. I had pulled the guy who BM was facing off the most with, off to one side. He tried so hard to get at BM that I thought he was going to turn around and come at me, to get loose (which is funny because, in waking life, I once restrained BM back from a fight and I thought he was going to attack me, to get loose). We ended up driving all of them out off of the premises, and they vowed that they would get some payback on BM later.

      Just before sundown, we'd had a little something to make the night more enjoyable, and were waiting for it to take hold. LS told me that she was worried about those guys from earlier coming back. Even though we didn't really believe they would be coming back, we thought it be best if we got an understand of what kind of weaponry we had at our disposal. I never actually saw myself with a gun, but I just 'knew' that I had a 9mm, so I went searching around for extra 9mm bullets, but I didn't find much. Not soon after we began our hunt for inventory, the other crew descended upon the party, guns blazing. They just started slaughtering everyone with automatic gunfire. There was 0 chance of fighting these guys off, with the weapons that we had. Trying not to get pinned down, I ran across a wooden walkway, exposing myself just long enough to feel two sharp thumps against my side, stumbling off of the rear walk and onto the moist, beachside sand.

      I had been shot. Twice. Behind me, everyone scattered in all directions, trying to get away from the unchallenged gunfire. I clutched my side, running parallel to the beach, down the line of beachfront properties, about four houses away from the one where the good times had just gone bad. Stealing a moment to try to gather my wits, I ducked away on someone's back porch, a few yards of sand separating myself from the sea. The skies were a dull, late-evening purple - the blueish-black of night just beginning to bleed onto the canvas. I looked over into the glass door to my side, a middle-aged man happening to glance over at me, simultaneously. For a moment, I thought he was going to be a problem, but he wasn't. We simply exchanged a rather awkward glance. After a few moments, I knew that I was going to have to get back to the house. I had figured the gunmen would have left the scene by now, and I had to check to see if there were any survivors that needed help. Still afraid that the gunmen might have lingered around for a little too long, I made my way back down the beach.

      When I got back to the house, my 'close friend' (can't recall if it was someone I actually know in waking life. I just had that feeling of "close friend" in the dream) drew an AK-47 on me, just as I walked through the door. He was so furiously pissed at my having run from the massacre that I was pretty much convinced he was about to finish me off, himself. Whatever was to be the case, I was not about to stick around and find out. In that short moment of confrontation, I had assessed all I needed to know: any survivors were now up and walking around; LS was still alive, and was standing near the back of the room; and I was now in another life-or-death situation.

      The last thing I remember is this 'friend' firing wild pot-shots at me, as I hauled ass away from the house.

      Updated 08-11-2011 at 03:30 PM by 2450

      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. 12/08/2010 - "Blackmail: Return to Sender"

      by , 12-10-2010 at 06:33 AM (Oneironaut Zero: Dreamwalker Chronicles)
      12/08/2010
      "Blackmail: Return to Sender"


      Some goons had kidnapped my daughter. They were using her as leverage, to blackmail me into coming along with them, and helping them commit an armed robbery. With no other choice, I went along with it. I don't remember very much of the whole situation, at first, but it involved being something of a point-man in the heist, within a massive house. The squad of thugs were charged with keeping the people in the house at bay, while I was supposed to be the one who actually went in to steal whatever was in the safe. It wasn't long before the occupants of the house began fighting back, though, and soon there was an insane firefight going on. I wasn't fortunate enough to be given a gun so, once I had what I came for, I had to haul ass through the house, ducking and dodging as guns were blazing around me. For the most part, the folks in the house were completely outgunned, and there were innocent people dying all around me. The inhabitants figured me to be one of the bad guys, so I ended up having to grab a pistol off of a dead man and shoot my way out, rounding the stairwell and rushing down, level after level - covering my own ass with frantic shots until I made it to the ground floor.

      I rushed outside of the house, gunfire still crackling in all directions. As I was running, a van hurriedly pulled up beside me, and the door opened. Still at a sprint, I jumped inside the van and we sped off. I had completed my mission and got the goons whatever it was they were searching for (though I don't remember what it was. The whole thing felt much like Cobb's attempted escape at the beginning of Inception). All I could feel, was that the victory was a bit dubious. I wanted my daughter back, but I felt horrible about all of the people that had to die for me to complete my objective. To make things worse, I was greeted with the old bait-and-switch, for my services. The goons refused to give my daughter back. They said that they would need me for another job or so, before they would consider returning her to me. Needless to say, I was furious. I was not about to be made into a lap dog for these bastards. I knew I had to do something about this.

      Half-heartedly, I agreed to the mission. It was supposed to be another armed robbery, much like the last one. I was told that the head guy was going to be there, himself, so I had a 'plan' on how I was going to end all of this. It was half-baked, but it was the best I had. Somehow, I had the luxury of having Todd be my transportation to this heist. We were in a car that I don't believe was his Jeep, and he was driving. We had to circle the neighborhood a few times, and wait until the goons had already secured the house, which seemed like a cross between an old house of mine, in Houston, and my Grandmother's house, in Daytona Beach. Also inexplicably, I knew that there was a rack of weaponry waiting for me, down the street from the target home. My "employers" didn't know about this, and it was my intention to get close enough to the leader of the group to take him at gunpoint, and bargain his life for that of Cierra.

      Making one of our rounds, we stopped over at this rack of weapons (which was, amusingly, set up right beside a house - all out in the open) and stocked up. Todd already had a handgun and ammunition in his car, just in case, but I needed to get my own. Going up to the rack, though, I saw that the only gun it had was a model of a real piece. I didn't even think it was functional, but for some reason, I packed it anyway. There were no bullets on this rack of weapons, but Todd's bullets were able to fit in my 'model' gun, and that made me a little more confident that it would fire. After loading it, I didn't dare test it, though, because we were in a neighborhood, and couldn't draw too much attention to ourselves before getting the job done. I also grabbed a samurai sword from off the rack, and slung the sheath over my shoulder. We went back to circling the block. On what I thought was our last pass, we saw the goons storm into the house. I knew that I was going to be on, in just a few moments. Todd was beginning to lose his nerve about having any part in this, though. I told him that he was going to have to stop and wait for me, but he didn't want to stop. We just kept driving around the block while I argued with him about how I had to go through with this. Another pass. Now, there were people streaming out of the house, some of them dragging their bullet ridden bodies under their own power, clinging desperately to their lives. I knew that there was going to be no other chance. Again, I told Todd that he had to stop, so I could get this done before the cops came. And, again, he doubted the situation just long enough to role passed the house again. Sure enough, on our next trip around, there were cop cars in the driveway. I knew that, If I were to go in now, I would have bought myself a 1-way ticket to prison. It was too late to complete the job as ordered, anymore...I had failed.

      Then I got a phone call. The leader of the goon squad said that he wasn't even present, during the heist. He had been testing me, and I let him down by not completing my task. He told me to report back to him, because we had some things to 'discuss,' and it was the most ominous thing I had heard in ages. He still didn't know that I was armed, though (if you could call it that). We drove down the block, still in my grandma's hood, and I got out. I didn't plan on making much small talk...at all. I was going in there determined to get my daughter back, by any means necessary. Clutching the gun and sword, and making my way up to the door - practically on fire with anticipation - I suddenly realized that I was dreaming. I was absolutely ecstatic. Lol. All fear instantly disappeared. This entire scenario had just done a complete 180, and now, even though I was fully aware that this was not reality, I damn sure wasn't leaving the scene without settling the score.

      I burst into the run-down old house, immediately stepping in and waving the gun around. There was one guy on a couch to my right, another standing in a hallway to my left, and the leader was directly across the room from me. He sat in a chair, smuggly, with a gun in one hand, and my daughter in his lap. She sat rather stoically, looking at me with a calmness in her face as if she was just waiting patiently for this to be over with. I glared at the leader, beginning to walk toward him (before this time, I had never actually seen him, and he reminded me a lot of Victor Sweet, the dementedly egotistical bad guy from Four Brothers). The guy on the couch suddenly threw out his arm and aimed his gun at me. I aimed back at him and tried to pull the trigger. Nothing. I squeezed it harder. Still nothing. Even though I was lucid, the gun was still acting like a damn model. I just couldn't squeeze the trigger. Even when I clutched it with two hands and both index fingers, it wouldn't budge. I thought that it should be easy, since I was lucid, but no matter what I did, this gun just would not shoot. Frustrated, I began taunting the guy on the couch. I dared him to shoot me, telling him that he could take all the shots he wanted, but it wasn't going to stop me from killing every single one of them, beginning with him. I began to slowly walk in his direction.

      He fired. Anticipating the attempt, I swung my hand up in front of me, imagining the bullet hitting my palm and snatching it out of the air. He fired again. My other hand raised, slapping the bullet off to one side while I continued on toward him. His shots came in quicker as I advanced, and I simply stopped paying attention to the bullets, stalking toward the increasingly terrified man. His bullets pelted lightly off of my chest like grains of rice against cowhide. And out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the leader was getting uneasy, too. He tried getting my attention stalling me with some talk about how he "knows me" from somewhere, but I completely ignored him. I would get to him...in time. But for now, I was relishing in the moment.

      By this point, I was standing right over the man on the couch. He had stopped shooting, and his eyes were wide with fear. He was shaking. Again, I tried to squeeze off a few rounds into his stomach, from point blank range, but the gun I held was completely useless, and I just didn't have enough control of the dream to overpower it. I finally threw it to the ground, having had enough, and reached around behind me to pull the samurai sword out of the sheath over my shoulder. The last thing I remember, before waking up, was the look on the goon's face when he realized that he was about to be carved into tiny little pieces.

      Updated 12-10-2010 at 09:14 AM by 2450

      Categories
      lucid , memorable
    4. 11/20/2010 - "I Am Batman"

      by , 11-21-2010 at 04:08 PM (Oneironaut Zero: Dreamwalker Chronicles)
      11/20/2010
      "I Am Batman"


      As you might have guessed, I was Batman, in this dream.
      The first thing I remember was sneaking across a dark road, at night, out in the middle of nowhere. There was a large compound, surrounded by a fence, on the other side of this road, and I knew that it was the hideout of a gang of thugs. (I have to start noticing these criminal HQs as dream signs. They have been showing up a lot, lately.) Hoping over the fence, I came upon a parking area, moving swiftly between the cars and keeping my head down, trying to stay to the shadows. There were apparently hundreds of people here, though, and some of them were still coming and going. I could not help being caught in a few headlights, while moving from place to place, but no one who saw me really seemed alarmed - at least, at first. One of the cars sped passed me, missing me by inches. Tracking it with my eyes, I saw the car turn around and come back to make a second attempt to hit me. Again, I dodged at the last second, slinging my fist out and smashing it through the driver's side window, punching the guy in the face. Having shattered his face with the heavy blow, I reached in and grabbed the man, interrogating him and getting information about the people inside.

      I was now in the base. It was basically a slum within a large, industrial building; drugs; goons; women; small, ratty apartments; etc. I knew that I was vastly out-numbered, though, so I relied mainly on stealth. Even though the compound was pretty well-lit, and I didn't have many shadows to work with, I used any nooks and crannies I could find, to stay hidden as I moved from room to room. I had the infamous utility belt, with a seemingly endless array of non-lethal weapons, which I used to subdue key criminals and gather information. One of these detainees was a monk of some sort. He was the one that gave me the most information about the organization, and revealed it to be - at its core - some type of cult. He took me to a room where, on a stone wall, I saw something written in what looked like blood. It said something about the coming return of Quetzalcoatl, and that being the whole reason for the cult's existence. It was around here, that I realized I was dreaming. I was still in the Batsuit, and it felt amazing. Enjoying the scenario way too much, I hid the monk in a bathroom, but I couldn't find a pair of cuffs or anything, on my belt (surprisingly), to lock him down. Since I knew I was dreaming, I tried to create a pair, between the man's arm and a steel bar. I could almost see it flicker into solidity, but it just would not make that transition into a tangible object.

      Not really wanting to waste too much time on it, I just left the man unchained, and went on about my search for more information. I continued slinking through the hallways, like only Batman could, and it was so much more than just doing an 'impression' of him. I felt like I was him, yet still very conscious of the fact that I wasn't. Interesting feeling, and I was enjoying every minute of it. I came upon a room with two thugs inside, and felt like I could use a quick scrap. They were both sitting in chairs, near each other. I could tell that one of them was much bigger than the other. Knowing that there were two of them, I decided to rush them and take them by surprise. I burst into the room (which wasn't much bigger than the three of us), and sucker punched the smaller guy, laying him out, slumped down into the chair. Immediately, I turned to the left, about to attack the other guy, before he got out of his chair. But that's when I noticed how big this guy was. He hadn't even flinched. He just sat there, within my arm's reach, glaring at me. Slowly, calmly, he stood up. This dude was some 7 feet tall, and like 300lbs of muscle. I felt like a kid, compared to him. And I could tell, by his demeanor, that he and I were on the same page.

      Unfortunately, I don't remember too much of our fight. Just a myriad of punches and dodges. I do remember, at one point, he hit me with a punch to the gut that would have crippled a rhinoceros. I actually felt the armored padding in the suit soften the blow - even though, before that point, I hadn't really thought about how thick it was. (I love that the subconscious just fills in these little details, on its own. Always amazes me.) By this time, I was just having the time of my life, being Batman. I was taunting one of the goons and even threw on an imitation of his voice, from Batman: the Animated Series (which is about my favorite incarnation of Batman), and I actually surprised myself at how much I sounded like him. Can't remember what I said, though. Also, while navigating the maze of hallways, I was just kind of "creating" which weapons I would need, from my utility belt. Anything that fit my situation, at the time, I would find. This part of the dream seemed like it lasted a good little while, but I can only recall certain, blurry, flashes of images.

      Finally, I made it to the quarters of the compound's leader. He was a young, Spanish dude that kind of reminded me of that crazy muhfucka Peoples Hernandez, from the Shaft movie. It was just he and I, standing in a service area, surrounded by steel pipes and concrete - metal grates and steps. I actually saw something of a HUD come up, in my field of view, as if this were a boss fight in some video game. There was a reticle "on-screen", that showed stats and everything, as we fought. It was an awesome hand-to-hand fight, but I don't really remember too many of the details of it.


      (Also, THIS has been my desktop, for the past few weeks, so I'm not surprised about having another Batman dream. Haha.)

      Updated 11-24-2010 at 07:15 AM by 2450

      Categories
      lucid