...from the dark corners of my mind...

DJ Log: September 13, 2010 – Morning, 5:00AM (USA Eastern)
Text color legend: · NON-DREAM · NOTES · DREAM · LUCID ·

(Note: I forgot to take my B6, Ginkgo, and fish oil with my dinner, so I took them at about 9:30PM, which caused me to have many issues falling asleep. I stayed up for a few more hours that I would usually stay up, reading a few articles on DV before my eyelids became heavy. I crawled into bed around 4:00AM)

I am standing in a a house trailer that belongs to my grandmother. I am quite familiar with the layout of the rooms and everything inside. I immediately became lucid, as I know my grandmother had passed away many years ago and her trailer is no longer a place I would visit. My mom was in the living room, and I was standing in front of the breakfast bar in the kitchen. I talk with my mom for a bit about why we are here. She explains that my grandmother was in the hospital and we were here for a visit. After talking a bit more, she walks back into the bedroom. I walk out into the living room and lay down on the couch to watch some TV, but the remote control will not work. I put the remote down and got up to push the buttons on the TV. The buttons do not work. I check the power cord to make sure it's plugged in, and everything looks like it's connected. After staring at the blank screen for a bit, trying to make it do something, I gave up. No TV! I lay back down on the couch and drift off to sleep. (Note: dream within dream.) I was having a short lucid dream, of which I cannot recall any details, when my mom came in the room yelling about something. I don't recall what she was yelling about. I woke up from the embedded dream, sort of irritated, and yelled back at my mom. I said, “You ruined a perfectly good lucid dream, please stop yelling and leave me alone for a little while.” While I was yelling, I raised my hands to make gestures and saw that my fingers didn't look quite right. After yelling, my mom went back into the bedroom, grumbling under her breath. I look at my hands again and count 7 fingers on the left hand and 8 on my right. My fingers were quite deformed. They were skinny and bent around, some of them crossing over each other. I began rubbing my hands together briskly while I stand up and walk toward the bathroom. The first thought on my mind was, “Find a mirror! I have a definite mission to complete."

I enter the bathroom and look into the vanity mirror, while rubbing my hands together to help keep things stable. I am trying to remain calm and collected while my face quickly melts down and my eyes fall down below my nose. I observe for a few seconds before looking away from the mirror to look at my hands. I stop rubbing my hands and look back into the mirror. My face is moving in and out as I breathe, gaining more depth in the third dimension with each breath. I slowly raise my right hand in front of my face and my fingers flew off and go into my right eye socket. There are a couple of very long skinny fingers still attached that are trying to go up my nose. I lower my hand slightly and all of my fingers come out of my eye socket and reattach to my hand. When I raise my hand slightly, my fingers go into my eye socket again. The repeatable transition point seems to be once the fingers raise past the nose in the mirror. I raise my hand higher and my whole hand goes into my right eye socket, all the way to the elbow. All of my fingers begin falling out of my nose, bounce off the sink and go into my left eye socket. I lower my hand slowly and all of my fingers reattach themselves.

I continue to stare in the mirror, watching my eyes stretch so wide my eyeballs almost fall out. Suddenly, I hear someone call my name from outside the bathroom. I look at the door, and notice that I had forgot to close it completely. I run to the door and push it shut the rest of the way. I walk back to the vanity mirror and decide to stretch it all the way down to the floor so I can walk through it. Feeling a bit rushed because I know someone is walking toward the bathroom, I grab the bottom of the mirror frame and pull it firmly towards the floor. The mirror offers some resistance, but complies with the stretch. While pulling the mirror down, the sink and cabinet disappear into the floor. As soon as I finish stretching the mirror, an older guy walks into and through the bathroom, into a connecting room. He is giving me the “death look” as he walks by. I stare back at him with a very defensive, angry glare while he passes. I look back at the mirror and touch the glass. My fingers pass through the glass without any resistance. It is very cold on the other side of the glass. I take a step back and walk into the mirror, only to bounce off of the glass. The surface would no longer give way and let me through.

I am getting frustrated with the mirror, and decide to abandon it and walk out of the bathroom. I walk outside, through the kitchen window and climb along a chain-link fence on top of a narrow concrete retaining wall. I came upon some bushes along the fence which are scratching my legs on the way by. The feeling of the scratches sent waves of chills through my body and caused me to nearly lose my grip on the fence. I looked at my hands for a brief moment and my fingers were thoroughly wrapped around the top of the fence. The wall leads me into a very small, one room house. The walls are blue-gray and so was the floor. There is a small window on each side of the room, but no doors. I can see a close neighbor cooking food on the stove from one side, and someone talking on the phone to the other side. The third window is as black as outer space. The room was entirely empty, except for a small wooden chair in the corner. There seems to be nothing of interest in here, so I exit through the same window which I came. I climb up and walk along the fence and return to the trailer I came from before. There is very little detail on the return journey along the fence.

I climb in the kitchen window and find a huge pile of rare-cooked steak laying all over the stove top. It smells freshly cooked, and has a pile of fresh blood puddling under the steaks. I pick up a piece of steak and try to eat it. It was as heavy as a rock, tough as leather, and tasted like rotting flesh. I throw the steak on the floor and try to eat another piece. It is also tough as leather, but has no taste. I throw the second piece of steak on the floor also. A puddle of blood begins to form around the steaks on the floor. I look at my hands, counting 8-9 fingers on each hand that are very long and skinny. There is a lot of blood dripping from my fingers. I rub my hands together and I can feel the slimy blood smearing around all over them. The smell of rotting flesh begins to fill the air. I rub my hands on my pants to clean them off.

The layout of the trailer has completely changed during my outside excursion. There is no longer a bathroom in the hallway next to the kitchen. The living room is now a large dining room with a formal setting. There are candles in the center of the table and all of the places are set. I cannot find an exterior door, anywhere. A mirror is visible through a doorway in a different bathroom. I walk into the bathroom and find a mirrored shower door. I back up and run as fast as I can into the mirror, passing through it with no resistance. This was the dream's exit.