• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    Things to Run Away From Really Fast

    Warnings: violence, problems with authority, and links to TV Tropes.

    But in all seriousness, this journal legitimately contains the kind of graphic and disturbing content that gives people nightmares, so either that's a selling point or a reason not to read on. Just a heads up.

    As of 2015, dreams are ranked according to three categories:

    Adventure: How much fun and excitement can I fit into one dream?
    Control: How much control do I have over the narrative, environment, and dream powers?
    Fear: How scared and out of control do I feel? (Has very little to do with how Silent Hill the monsters get.)

    Regular dreams are in black (along with notes).
    Semi-lucid dreams are green.
    Lucid dreams are blue.

    1. #153. Thai Food

      by , 09-23-2010 at 05:31 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      09/22/10

      One gigantic funeral/conspiracy dream I don't remember. Moving on.



      I think I'd been dreaming about dolls. There was, of course, something entirely creepy about them. Also, dog trainers, road trips, and friends of Zoe.

      I'm walking down a short flight of carpeted steps, into the entrance hallway of a house somewhere. My foot hits the bottom step, and Oh, I think. I'm dreaming.

      Reality check. I need to get back into the habit. Finger count: six.

      I'mlucidI'mlucidI'mlucid, I repeat to myself, concentrating. What did I want to do, again?

      Oh yeah. "Do nothing."

      I sit down on the light grey carpet and place my hands palms up over my knees. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes briefly.

      Everything turns a swirly grey. Alarmed, thinking I'm going to lose the dream, I open my eyes and begin touching all the surfaces in the room. Carpet, wooden bench, painted walls.

      I feel that the dream is secured, and walk out through a screen door. The screen door pulls around me, warping, and I push through it.

      I find myself at the entrance to a meeting place. A gym, or something. Apparently, it's for members of Nomad's shared dreaming class.

      I introduce myself as "Sam", and chat with some of the other students. One girl's avatar or userpic was very pink. We ended up making out on a couch.


      I'm losing lucidity, and I don't notice. One of the students is an old friend of mine, who died a couple years ago. Elaine sits beside me and whispers something in my ear.

      I'm hungry. We're sitting in a cafeteria, and I have to get back to class soon. I want some vegetarian food, but the Thai place is closed, and the sushi place doesn't have anything without fish in it. Someone brings a Saskatoon Berry Pie from the restaurant next door.

      Scare Factor: 2/10
      Rating: 3/10
    2. #36. Failed Interrogations

      by , 06-14-2010 at 05:45 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      Non-lucidSemi-LucidLucid

      I concocted a plan to confront LG, utilizing the golden bullets he left me. This is the plan:

      Quote Originally Posted by Sam's Paper Journal
      Note: this is not a dream.

      I'm standing by the Bar in McAnally's, the pub in Dresdenverse Chicago. The building is established neutral ground, and the place is specifically designed to break up magical energies. Its design is broken up into odd nooks and crannies perfect for a dream walk.

      I order two beer from Mac and take them, handing Mac a twenty with my right hand as I hold the other two in my left. I thank him and make my way to a nearby table. I set down the beers.

      I reach into the right pocket of my jeans, where I put the golden bullets LG had threatened me with. I place them on the table in front of me and look up at the ceiling while sipping on my beer. It tastes like I imagine butterbeer would: rich and sweet. Inexplicable.

      "You really expect me to drink this?"

      I open my eyes to find the Lunar God eying me skeptically. I relax and take another sip.

      "I would have ordered a bottle of Pinot Gris again, but I'm really not in the mood for champagne."

      The Lunar God leans forward over the table. "Sam." He says, "No games. What do you want?"

      I'm wary of him. "I want to know who you are."

      He leans back in his chair, satisfied. I watch the smirk form on his face and settle in for a round of bargaining. I don't forget that those little golden bullets on the table have been used to try to claim my life.
      This is the result:

      I'm with the Joker in an armoured truck in a scene eerily reminiscent of Fight Club. Now, what could that mean?


      You're just a freak, like me!

      I'm following two characters and a potential horror movie from a third person point of view. At one point, I accidentally possess one of the characters and take some time off from the plot to... dye my hair. So yeah.

      Same location. I'm waiting for my karate class to start. I check my watch, and it's 6:90PM. I guess I'm late. No, wait, this is a dream sign. I look around, confused, because this doesn't really feel like a dream. I pay more attention to my surroundings, and realize that it actually is a dream. I stop to savour the amazing feeling of being lucid.

      "I'm dreaming," I say, and I start to repeat it to myself as I move around the dream-world.
      I'm not feeling very well, so I go to grab something from the fridge (in a place I've never been). I'm craving rasberries. When I open the fridge door, I find clear Yop yogurt containers filled with frozen rasberries. I eat a few.

      I'm moving toward the exit when Ben stops me and wants me to listen to a song. It's rap music. I'm not interested, and there was something I wanted to do tonight, so I'm busy. A brief wrestling match with my brother ensues, but I shake him off and run to the exit. A steel staircase leads to a latched window.


      I will the window to be open. I crawl out and latch it behind me.

      I remember that I wanted to go to McAnally's to meet with the Lunar God character. I stretch a hand out in front of me and will the dream to dissolve. I close my eyes briefly, but when I open them, the green grass and concrete and sun are still there. Energy continues to swirl around me. I close my eyes again, and push through the dream-fabric.

      When I open my eyes again, I can't see anything. Everything is dark, though coloured energy swirls through the space to break up the monotony. There seems to be a slight tear in the dream, so I move toward it (zooming closer, not walking). I drop to my knees and feel for the wooden door that I'm sure should be there. I imagine the texture, feel for iron handles of the closed door. I visualize the grain of the wood that should be there, the glass that is set into it.

      "Open the door," says Mac, rolling his eyes. "We keep them open while we're open."

      I stand up and dust myself off, looking at the four pointed star mounted on the door, just above my eye level. Did I create that?


      The dream star was more ornate.

      I shake off the strange feeling and move to the bar beside the door. This isn't anything like I'd imagined the place to be. The wood is darker, glossier, and everything is more streamlined than I'd expected.

      "Two beer." I say to Mac. I dig through my pockets for the twenty that should be there, but I only find a bunch of change in my right pocket, where the bullets should be. Loonies, toonies, quarters. I apologize for paying in change, and I give him the $20 pile of change, minus the six loonies I need for LG. I consider that since we're in Chicago, I should have given him American money. I let my hand hover over the pile of change, and will it into American bills. The money flickers and I see paper. I'm not sure if it worked.

      Mac waves me off, and I grab the beer and my loonies, setting them both down on a round wooden table near the bar.


      "Aw, you don't need to do that," says a voice, "You already paid for drinks."

      "These aren't coins," I say, turning to look at what I think is the Lunar God. He's younger than any incarnation I've seen before. He grins in understanding and takes a seat.

      I take a sip of the beer. It tastes like Pilsner.

      There's a third person at the table, whom I never acknowledge. Her (?) presence seems shadowy, dark, barely there. I think it's Elaine.

      A girl comes up to LG and asks if it's okay if she leaves with someone.

      "Yes." says one of us, before LG can comment. We kind of need to talk to him.

      Unfortunately, LG's very presence seems to destabilize all dreams, and I can't remember a damn thing after that. Including whether I still have the bullets.

      Failed Interrogations. Scare Factor: 3. Reaction: I need a new plan.[/QUOTE]

      Updated 06-14-2010 at 05:53 AM by 31096

      Categories
      lucid , memorable , side notes
    3. #15. Dream-Style Karate Tournaments

      by , 06-14-2010 at 03:59 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      This dream took place over the course of several days, with time-skips between unimportant parts.

      A woman shows me a new kata.

      I'm on a farm, apparently visiting my Oma. She gives us (myself and a girl) a ride into town. I make fun of her car.

      We arrive at the tournament, which takes place in my hometown. The girl (I have the feeling I knew her) and I are going to perform some kind of strange team kata that's some kind of dance, and the one we're doing has a male and a female character. I'm playing the male character even though I'm female in the dream.

      It's about 10AM, and our part doesn't come around until around 1PM. I'm not dressed yet and I can't find my sword. I might have to ask my Oma (whose car I made fun of) for a ride home to look for it.

      My mom brings my sword, but I'm still not dressed. It's into the afternoon now. I peek out of the dressing rooms to check that they're not calling for us.

      For some reason, I'm not wearing my karate uniform, but something more like a dress robes. There's a red dress long... robe-like thing made of a kind of satin-like material, and an outer set of long black robes that look more like my gi than anything I've seen yet in this dream.


      Oh, yeah, definitely. That is totally what I meant.

      I'm standing beside my partner for the team kata (who looks a bit like a geisha), wondering about the feminist implications of this performance. I mean, one of us doesn't actually do anything.

      Oh, yeah, you do that fan kata.



      Wait, we actually both have a kata to do.

      This is followed by several minutes of panic, within which I realize I've forgotten my kata.

      Then we're standing in front of the judges, and I'm going through the motions of my sword kata, which I've known for a very long time.

      You know, my partner hasn't said anything this entire time.

      Shift.

      I'm at a boarding school with my high school classmates, or I'm finishing off a karate class. We're all actually at a dream-changed version of a parish hall in my hometown.

      "Line up!" Calls Sensei B, one of my old instructors.

      My high school classmates mill about (quickly) in confusion, most of them not having been in karate. In the chaos, I'm trying to figure out which line I should be in, with my... red belt.

      I'm a green belt, right?

      I'm standing in line when I realize that my already ridiculous costume has been substituted for a sheer lingerie-style robe.

      I think Sensei B is making fun of me.

      Dream-Style Karate Tournaments. Scare Factor: 3.5. Would prefer to avoid.

      Updated 06-14-2010 at 06:19 AM by 31096

      Categories
      non-lucid
    4. #6. The Narrator

      by , 06-14-2010 at 03:24 AM (Things to Run Away From Really Fast)
      March 12, 2010

      Damian is a semi-immortal thief from the "real world". While evading his current batch of pursuers, he is granted a wish from the devil, who introduces herself as Sam. After sending Damian home, for a price, She proceeds to wreak havoc at the christening of the princess, by giving her the gift of infinite will. This backfires spectacularly, when Sam (the devil) is drawn into the plight of a teenaged runaway several years later.

      I think it could make a very interesting series of short stories.

      Also, I was three separate characters during the course of this dream. I've been Damian, Sam, and The Reader of the story at various points, while reading emotions off of everyone else present. It was all very third person omniscient. Also, not the first time I've been the devil.

      Can you tell that I'm not religious at all? Protip: Satan is the good guy.

      The Narrator. Scare Factor: 2. Omniscience is so much fun.