• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    maboroshi

    1. construction project; poor neighborhoods; shaving instructions

      by , 04-06-2011 at 11:40 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was walking through some park with my mother. It was daytime, and the sunlight was kind of pale. My mom and I were walking along some kind of concrete walkway and up a slight slope. At the top of the slope and off a little to the left, my old friend D sat on a concrete staircase.

      My friend D wore a brown, button-up shirt, not tucked in, and light brown, casual pants. His hair was a little long and paler than usual. D looked depressed. When I first saw him, I wondered how I might be able to avoid him. But when I saw how depressed he looked, I figured I should talk to him.

      D told us that he knew I hadn't wanted to talk to him. He was only here at the same time as I out of coincidence. He was actually with some group of people working on some kind of volunteer project. D was actually on a break at the moment.

      D took me to where the volunteers were. The project was all about pouring concrete for something I may have thought of as an ice skating rink. D showed me that first, people lay down wooden shipping pallettes, so that the slats of each pallette made some kind of checkerboard pattern. Then concrete was poured over the pallettes. The pallettes were supposed to hold the concrete in place.

      But I realized that the concrete was supposed to go much higher than that. I asked D how the rest of the concrete was supposed to stay in place. D said that other pallettes were added to the first layer of pallettes, stacked one on the other. But the checkerboard pattern was alternated.

      At some point, D may have tried to illustrated what he'd meant. But he may have been required to "go outside" with us, as if the construction project had been inside the whole time. He may have taken me and my mom outside. Then he may have asked more personal questions about our friendship, which I felt bad about.

      Dream #2

      Some kind of documentary about poor neighborhoods. The neighborhoods looked really torn down and destroyed. For some reason I felt bad about not living in these ruined neighborhoods myself.

      I was now flying through some neighborhood that looked like the neighborhood where my family had lived while I was in high school. It felt empty and desolate. It was daytime, and it may have been winter. I feel like there was snow everywhere.

      I flew over a lot of backyards. All the backyards were strewn with junk. I finally came to my family's old backyard. I landed on the top of a wooden fence and looked into the yard. This backyard was filled with somethink that looked like old cloths or tarps. The tarps appeared to have been frozen by the cold.

      Dream #3

      I had bought a new razor. There had been a lot of talk about my razor with a few friends of mine who work in the deli in my office building. I kept shaving and looking at my razor and the other razors I could have bought, as if the bathroom I was shaving in was somehow mixed with the store I'd bought the razors from.

      At some point, one of the deli workers slapped me on the back in a friendly way and told me to shave in an upward direction. He then said something about how I was going to have a good shave. That was apparently the same thing as saying I was a good guy.

      I was apparently shaving off my mustache. I wondered if that was a good idea.
    2. lucky boss and tractor robot; weeds and slavery

      by , 02-20-2011 at 03:13 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in some kind of building construction setting. As I was in this setting, I had some kind of conversation going on in my head, probably just a conversation with myself, but possibly a "remembered" conversation between myself and some person I looked up to.

      The conversation had something to do with the way capitalists exploit people, and how anybody with a conscience shouldn't be part of the corporate system. Of course I felt bad, thinking about my own life in this context.

      The building construction site was enormous. It was almost like some kind of futuristic landscape, where everything in site was part of one kind of building complex. But the whole area seemed to be under construction. But it was in complete disarray, as if things had been destroyed, or as if the place, instead of being a construction site, were just a gigantic dump.

      I was now either swinging on a huge crane or watching some kind of robot swinging from the crane. The crane had a red metal frame. It swung back and forth in front of a half-built building.

      As the crane swung back and forth, I heard the voice in my head talk about my boss, referring to him as a "lucky boss." Something about the way this had been said made me feel bad about myself all over again, as if I were part of some awful system where the bosses were all "lucky" and everybody else was being exploited.

      I was now definitely watching a robot swinging from the crane. The robot was yellow, like a tractor. It may even have been made out of old tractor parts. But it had cute, big eyes that looked half like oogly eyes and half like empty headlights for a car.

      The robot dropped itself off the crane. It fell down toward a huge pile of other tractor-like robots. I knew that the impact of the landing would kill the robot. But I knew that the robot had meant to do this, and that it had wanted to die.

      Dream #2

      I was in some kind of forest or rural area. I was in front of a cabin. It was a warm, partly sunny day.

      I jumped up into the air and flew over toward a dirt road or dirt path. As I did this, I thought to myself something about the history of the United States and slavery.

      I landed on the path. The path was blocked by a patch of weeds, some of which were quite tall, even flowering. I jumped up into the air again and flew over the weeds. There may have been another patch of weeds not too far after the first one. So I may have decided to keep on flying.

      As I flew over the weeds, I continued my thoughts on slavery. I thought to myself that African Americans had been kept down first by slavery. But then, even after slavery, they had to deal with so much oppression. I thought to myself, Well, I shouldn't be surprised if there's resentment because of all this. But now the situation is definitely changing.
    3. gas station diapers, plug-line, birth cave; boss explains job

      by , 02-12-2011 at 03:55 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a small hallway that was dimly lit. I stood by a little group of shelves for newspapers. I saw and grabbed a copy of The Onion. But somebody acted in a mean way that made me nervous as I was grabbing the paper.

      I got nervous, pulled the paper out quickly, and hurried away. But a few steps away, I realized I had gotten only a few of the first sheets of the paper, not the whole thing. So I went back to grab the rest of the paper.

      I was now in a gas station. One of my friends was with me, I'm not sure who. Behind the counter of the gas station was a youngish woman, a little overweight, with copper-tan skin and long, black hair that was pulled back and a little frizzy. She was really cheerful and nice.

      I was sitting in a big, pink recliner before the counter. I seemed to be sitting inside of it as though I were really small, maybe a child. But I also seem to have been myself, at my normal height, as well.

      Apparently I was wearing diapers and I had wet my diapers. I hadn't told the woman, but she knew that I needed to change my diapers. She told me that there was a restroom in some place across the street (a cafe or a fast food restaurant?). She told me I could change my diapers there.

      I didn't have diapers, and somehow the woman knew that, too. She pulled down, from a top shelf over the cash register area, a partly empty pack of diapers. There were two adult-sized, pink diapers inside. The woman told me I could change into one of these diapers and hold onto the other one.

      Somehow I came to understand that the woman thought of me as either her kid or as a person who needed someone to take care of him like a mother would. She had known this for a little while, so she had prepared for it. I thought it was wonderfully nice of her to think of me.

      I was now outside, on a wide street on a sunny day. The space on either side of the road seemed wide and empty, maybe with dirt lots or grassy lots, although there also were buildings somewhere in the distance. All around on the road there was a feeling of heavy machinery and dusty construction material.

      A group of young people, some or all of whom may have been my friends, were laying out a line of what looked like gigantic surge-protector power strips. The power strips were maybe 1.5m long and .6m wide. At either end, they seemed to have poles sticking out of them, like the poles for rope-belt line makers.

      The young people would lay the surge protectors down and then plug huge, black cords into them. A few people had to carry and set down each surge-protector. Both that work and the plugging work seemed difficult.

      I was trying to find a place in the work where I could be helpful. But the people were all working so quickly and efficiently together already. I couldn't get in. Eventually I was worried that I would look lazy.

      I may have made some kind of weak assertion to everybody else that I should have a place in the work. But one of the people (the only person I can remember now was a man with olive-colored skin, shaggy, black hair, and a shaggy goatee) said something about how I was too much of a sissy to help. One person may have told another person, "Tell that guy to go back to the diapers that girl gave him and have fun with those."

      So I walked over to what seems, now, like a flatbed trailer for a semi truck. The bed seemed to have been made out of heavy planks of wood. Oddly enough, the pack of diapers the woman had given me was sitting on the bed. There was also some kind of pile of pages or some kind of book. The story in the pages/book may have been something similar to Alice in Wonderland.

      I was now "almost-present" in some kind of place with an old friend of mine, M. M was trying to show me, in his usual intelligent-jester way, some article that he found really funny in The Onion.

      I had a series of views based on that article. Sometimes it was like I was looking at the paper. Other times it was like the images on the paper, while still paper-images, were also my whole view, as big as the world. At other times, it was like I was in the images, like they were the three-dimensional, real world, while still looking like newspaper images.

      The article was taking some fictional discovery made by fictional scientists, which was obviously a cave which had been used by prehistoric peoples for women to give birth in. But the article was trying to make it sound like a mystical place. The humor of the article, apparently, was how the scientists were trying to give this place a really mystical meaning, when it was "just" a birth cave.

      At one point I saw a cross-section image of the birth cave. The cave had three rooms, one set behind the other.

      The very back room was labelled with some "really mystical" title by the scientists. In actual fact, it was "just" some kind of room where a spirit was being prepared to enter into the body in the mother's womb. The middle room was the room where the actual birth took place. This room was again, given some "comically mystical" name. The front room had some weird label like "meat and other stuff." I took this to mean that all the supplies that one gets by living in the outside world started to be given to the newborn child here.

      The article seems to have been full of references to an astral state. Apparently the scientists had discovered human ribs in the middle or front room. So the scientists made some weird comment about how the "astral ribs" of a cave dweller had been damaged and left behind.

      The front room had been fashioned, apparently, into a spacious, domed room, with a wide doorway to the outside. The domed ceiling was the natural stone of the cave, though it also seemed to be fashioned into shapes that looked like tiles.

      Near the front of the room, some of the "tiles" were missing from the ceiling. The scientists made some "comically mystical" statement about the shaped that the dark space now left by the missing tiles made in the ceiling. But the "comically mystical" statement "only" amounted to what the image actually looked like -- a woman lying on her back, giving birth, while another woman knelt before the first woman, receiving the child.

      At this point I may have been trying to figure out what exactly was funny about this article. As far as I could tell, I thought, from my reading about prehistoric life, birth caves were very mystical places, and the birth process was very mystical. The fact that the image of birth in a birth cave had naturally occurred also seemed mystical to me. I couldn't see why a mystical treatment of the whole thing would be so funny.

      Dream #2

      I had apparently done some kind of complex work project for my boss. It was something I had done on my own initiative.

      My boss now began criticizing my work. He told me that the work I had done was too complex. He said that this wasn't the kind of things clients liked to see from us. He said that our job was to do something more simplistic, very basic, and using very basic data.

      My boss told me that we couldn't do anything that expressly directed our clients' ideas, because our clients' job was to have ideas. My boss said, "We need let the clients have a chance to do some value creation on their own. So if we just put a bunch of basic data together and something in it inspires our clients to have an idea, we've done a good job."

      I took this to be my boss' nice way of breaking it to me that I was spending too much time doing the stuff I actually liked and not enough time doing the pain in the neck work of finding basic data, doing basic number work.

      I knew my boss was too nice to tell me that I had been kind of on the wrong track for a while, and that I needed to get back on the right track of looking for hard number-data. So he'd made some cover-up story that really didn't even match what his real thoughts about our work was.

      I now felt kind of stupid and lazy for not having done enough number work.