• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    maboroshi

    1. ceremonial dinner and complaining mother; boss, sister, and sack lunches

      by , 04-23-2011 at 02:45 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a kitchen in a small suburban house at night. The kitchen was dim, as if lit only by a small fluorescent light from some place like over the counter or the sink. A small oval table filled up most of the kitchen. The kitchen opened directly to the living room and gave a straight view to the house's front door, which was open.

      I seem to have seen everything from a point of view as if I were sitting on the floor or as if I were a small child standing near the table.

      There were a lot of people in the kitchen. Some of them were probably my family members. Others were possibly friends of my family members, but I'm pretty sure I didn't know them. We were celebrating some kind of Asian ceremonial dinner.

      My old friend L stood up and said that her husband was in the bedroom. Apparently he was too sick to come out into the kitchen with the rest of us. But he was still going to celebrate the Asian ceremony. I could see him in bed, wearing pale blue, 1950s style pajamas, sitting in a big, fluffy bed, possibly even with an old style ice pack on his head and a thermometer in his mouth.

      L had prepared a whole tray of dinner items for her husband. The tray was silver, and there was a tall, thin, silver coffee pot on it. L herself was dressed in an "Asian-style" (???) black, silk mini-dress. The dress was sparsely adorned along the chest with gleaming squares of red and green glass or jewels. At the waist there were squares of diamonds (?) which were arranged to look like a thick belt.

      L looked so beautiful, and her dress' adornments gleamed so brightly that everybody was stunned into silence as she walked out of the kitchen. In the living room she turned left and walked out of sight. One guy in particular, possibly a fattish, oldish man, had his mouth wide open in arousal.

      There seemed to be much fewer people in the kitchen now. In fact, it may have been just my mom, one other person, and I. I now saw a line of older, Asian men walking into the house and filing into the kitchen. There were three or four men.

      The men wore long, slender robes of a thin material like bed sheets. The robes were kind of neutral colors, like pale, light brown. They had kind of standard, paisley-like designs, like you might see on a bandana. The men also wore headdresses that seemed to be made out of something like wicker or twisted twigs. The headdresses were like three or four tall loops that tiered upward to look something like crowns. At least one of the men also wore eyeglasses.

      Despite this kind of drab appearance, something about the Asian men seemed to be iridescent and gleaming, as if just a thin patina of some kind of purple, pink, and blue material were coating the crowns and possibly also the robes. I didn't know whether to be impressed by or disappointed by the men.

      I ended up walking away from the table and into the living room as my mom began speaking with the men, possibly doing something like making arrangements for whatever kind of ceremony they might be performing for everybody at the house. As I walked away from the table I was probably seeing from the viewpoint of a small child.

      I could hear my mom talking as I walked into the living room. When I got into the living room, it was daytime. The living room was kind of full of bright daylight. I turned left. I now saw from my adult height. One of my uncles possibly sat in a recliner chair at the left side of the room.

      My mom was still in the kitchen, talking with someone like my uncle. I could hear her as if she were speaking from within the back of my head. She was complaining about my uncle (as if she weren't speaking to him!). She said, "I have a lot of energy to do things. Not like him. Because I don't do all those things he does, like listen to rock music and write weird stories on the internet."

      I felt guilty because I listen to rock music and write stories on the internet. So I felt like maybe I was wasting my energy instead of doing useful things. I may have started looking at a tall, thin bookcase which was near the front door.

      I now had a view of a scene like from a movie. There were two male police officers. They were plainclothes detectives, and they were dressed in suits, possibly 1970s style suits. One cop was black. The other cop was Mexican, and may have looked like a fat, worn-out version of Jimmy Smits.

      One of the cops got shot in the stomach. The other cop seemed to be really surprised by this, and he opened and puckered his mouth as if he himself had gotten shot in the stomach.

      Dream #2

      I was in a room that was like a copy room in an office. But it also seemed to be part of some building in the woods, like a ranger center in a national park. There was a window letting in a moderate amount of natural light. But there were no lights on in the room, I think. The room itself may have been pretty cluttered. There was even a cot-like bed near the door into the hallway of the office.

      I stood by the copier, waiting for some printing job of mine to come out. Apparently I was waiting for some kind of series of pages of charts or tables for a report that my boss was putting out.

      The job itself was four pages long, each page with two tables. The tables themselves may have consisted of a title section and a body. But both the title and body were just empty rectangles. There were paragraphs of description between each table. A number of copies were being printed out, but they were interspersed with two other jobs that some other people at the office were printing out.

      Both of the other jobs were being printed in color. They had green lettering. One just appeared to be the print out of a Power Point presentation -- although it seemed like it was only the back pages of the presentation: all the legal disclosures "fine print." The other report seemed to be written all in Arabic. It may have been a full report, including maps (of Africa?), but it also included a lot of "fine print" pages, also in Arabic.

      The jobs were all being printed out so randomly that I had to sift through all the pages just to find my pages. I was getting so tired that I actually sat down in a small, cot-like chair right next to the copier's feed area and slouched far back while shuffling through the loads of paper that kept coming out.

      I was apparently wearing khaki shorts and no shirt. My pale blue shirt, which I wear to bed at night, was laying somewhere, as if I had been wearing it, but I had taken it off. Also, at some point, bright, fluorescent lights were on in the copy room.

      As I shuffled through the loads of paper, I became really interested in the report written in Arabic. I couldn't understand any of it, obviously, but it seemed to be about something really interesting.

      Suddenly my boss opened the door. The chair was so close to the door that my boss couldn't open the door all the way. He looked in and saw what I was doing -- looking through all these other reports. He started to ask me about something work-related. But, disgusted with me, he stopped talking and just shut the door.

      I felt bad for having been looking at the other reports. But I then wondered why I should feel bad. My boss had set me to the task of retrieving all these pages. And that's what I was doing. They were just all coming out so randomly that I had begun to occupy myself with other stuff in the meantime.

      But, still, feeling guilty, I stood up and walked around in the copy room, as if walking around would somehow prove that I was actually working. The lights were off again in the copy room, and only natural light from the window came in.

      I could now hear my boss complaining to someone, possibly one of his bosses, about how he had discovered me in the copy room, wearing shorts and no shirt. I suddenly became conscious of the weirdness of my attire, even though I had been aware of my attire before. I wondered how I could have worn my night time shorts and shirt to work, and what would have made me take off my shirt altogether.

      There was apparently a back door to the copy room now. It was open. I looked out. There was something like a forest scene: pine trees, and grey, kind of chilly light.

      I looked back into the copy room to find my shirt. I may have found it on the bed. I walked over to the bed. The bed was now full of food. A lot of the food was stuff like snack bars and yogurt-covered fruit and nuts and stuff. Some of the snack bars were like oatmeal with red jelly. There were also Ziploc bags and brown paper lunch bags on the table. There may also have been some kind of padded carrying bags.

      I realized that I had to put together a few lunches, at least for myself. It wasn't quite like I was going on a hiking trip, but it was like I was going away for a while, and possibly into the woods. I may have been going with a group of friends. I started to focus on the task of putting the lunches together. I wondered if I would do a good job.

      I was now standing next to my sister. My sister's best friend A was also in the room. My sister may have said something. I may have made a really careless comment that made my sister feel really bad about herself. I realized as soon as I'd said it that I shouldn't have said it.

      My sister made a weird comment, in a cheerful tone, regarding the way people feel when people make bad comments about them. It was like my sister wasn't acknowledging -- maybe didn't even realize -- the bad thing I'd said. But she was expressing almost exactly my guilty feelings after what I'd said.

      I looked at my sister. She was really short and really fat. She had a scrunched in, extremely solid-looking face, which looked like the face of A's mother, except that it was deep red and rock hard. I felt really bad, because I felt like my statement may have made my sister look like this.

      It was now like the room was just a bedroom-sized room with just the bed in it. The back door still opened out to the forest. The floor was white tile. My mom now came into the room at some point and began complaining about my sister. I walked out of the room at some point. I walked into a hallway which may have led to a living room. I then came back into the room.

      For some reason my sister and A had taken over the task of putting the lunches together. But they may actually have stopped making the lunches. We were still going away into the mountains. But it was also like we weren't going into the mountains. We were no longer going outside.

      My sister explained. She said she'd heard some kind of siren-like or buzzing noise outside. This noise was something like either a man-made alarm or some other kind of indicator of a dangerous situation. My sister said, "It sound like there's going to be a lot of radiation outside. I thought we shouldn't go out there. I even think this might be the end of everything for us. There might be too much radiation in the air."