• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    maboroshi

    1. department store dresses; naked on the stairs, lucid and sightless; replacement interview

      by , 12-14-2010 at 01:26 PM
      Good morning, everybody. I think these dreams are both influenced by other dreams I've read on this site.

      Dream #1

      I was in a department store. The light was somewhat grey and dim. I walked to my right, into an area with a lot of dresses for little girls.

      I walked past one long rack of dresses. The dresses were all shimmery. Most of them had one single color, like purple or pink. Some may even have had pointy, brimless "princess" hats (which now remind me more of the I Dream of Genie headdress).

      All these dresses were supposed to be long on little girls. I assumed they'd hardly even fit onto my body. But for some reason I was still thinking of trying these things on.

      I walked between two long racks of dresses. Some of these dresses seemed to have black velvet tops and gold skirts.

      As I walked along, two or three tall, young, black men came walking from the other direction. The men were all dressed in shiny, satiny outfits that looked like jester outfits. The front guy may have been wearing sunglasses.

      I scooted out of the way a little bit. When I did so, so did the guys. I excused myself and said sorry. The front guy said, "No problem, no problem."

      I now found myself out in a wider area of the store. I was trying to figure out whether I wanted to go back to the dresses or go somewhere else.

      Dream #2

      I was possibly somewhere like a room in a library. I was probably with a group of peers, which was probably led by an older, tall, balding "teacher" figure with grey hair, glasses, jeans, and a denim shirt.

      At some point I realized I wasn't wearing any pants or underwear. I was just wearing a big button-up shirt. I knew I needed to get fully dressed.

      I walked out into a large stairwell like a big, open stairwell at a museum. I knew I was on the third floor and I needed to get down to the first floor. There were people on the stairs and on the floors between the stairs, walking in and out from exhibits. I had told myself I would run down the back stairwell. But I now realized I was going down the main stairway.

      I thought for a moment I could keep going. I thought the shirt was long enough that nobody would see I was wearing no underwear. But then I saw that people had noticed I was wearing no pants and underwear. I was embarrassed. I hurried at the next landing to a doorway to the back stairwell.

      I ran past a couple people and into the smaller stairwell, which was more like a fire escape stairwell. I was all alone. I started speeding down the stairs, almost flying down them, taking a lot of steps at once.

      I went too fast and found that I had gone too far down. I was in an area full of white-painted pipes. The area was huge and well lit, and the pipes were all so neatly arranged, like bookshelves in a library.

      I felt way out of place down here (although my state of undress didn't seem to bother me anymore). I knew I needed to get up to the correct floor. I imagined workers finding me and trying to do something bad to me.

      I now imagined (???) a tall, black man in a beige denim jacket and black sunglasses standing before me at the bottom of the staircase. My view panned through the aisles of white pipes which also seemed to be decorated with white Christmas lights.

      I imagined myself asking the imaginary man a weird question, like which way was the way out. I imagined the man first telling me something weird, like telling me how to get to the position in the basement where the exit would actually be on the first floor. I even imagined a huge painting, like a huge equestrian painting that might be seen in the lobby of an art museum.

      I then imagined, as my view panned through an area of white pipes lit almost entirely by tons and tons of white Christmas lights, that the man asked me something, like he was asking me on a date (???). I imagined that just around the corner from this area there was something like a themed food court, all done up in a confectionery style, like old merry-go-rounds.

      I thought that if this guy wanted to go have all this fun at "the festival," I'd have to get money from an ATM. I could hear Mexican music, like Mariachi music, playing somewhere.

      I found myself in a place like the parking lot of a shopping plaza from when I was a kid. The shopping plaza had a number of large stores, like a big clothing store, a big grocery store, and a big bookstore. It was night, and the light was deep blue, with all the lights in the shopping plaza turned off. But I still saw the lights, felt the warmth, and heard the music of the festival somewhere.

      I walked around trying to figure out where the festival was. I felt like I had woken from a dream. I may have been trying to convince myself that the music and light had only been in my dream, and that I was now just having trace memories of that stuff.

      But, I told myself, I'm still dreaming! There's no way I could be just walking around here right now. This is a dream, too.

      Realizing this was a dream, I felt a lot more clarity. The sky may have even gotten a bit lighter.

      I decided to turn around and look for the festival. But as soon as I turned around, everything went black, like I had closed my eyes. I tried to "open my eyes" and see again. But I couldn't. I walked around. I felt and heard myself walking. I even continued hearing the music. I even had some idea of where I was in the parking lot. But I couldn't see anything.

      Dream #3

      I was in "my office," which was larger than my office, much more like an office floor for a larger company.

      I got up from a cubicle when I heard that a couple of women were getting ready to interview a man for a position. I felt like they were interviewing a replacement for my position.

      I walked a little ways, then looked through what seems to have been the underside of a large semi-truck's trailer, to the elevator bank at the front of the office floor.

      I could see the interviewee in my mind's eye. He was a little kid, maybe 10 or 11 years old, dressed in a nice suit. One of the women interviewing him was a stout, Hispanic woman with short, black hair.

      I heard from somebody nearby that my boss was getting fired, and that the person was interviewing to become my boss' replacement. That was a relief for me, considering I had been thinking all this time that I was going to get fired. I only hoped that management would decide to keep me after firing my boss.

      I may have thought about the complications for this actually being possible. Maybe the man already had somebody like me on his team. So maybe he'd just bring that other person over from whatever company he was coming from. I also thought that it might not be worth it to work for this guy, anyway. Maybe he would just turn out to be a jerk.
    2. Manga hog

      by , 11-21-2010 at 02:44 PM
      (Good morning, everybody. I remember one dream from last night.

      The character in my dream definitely looks like a person I know from waking life. I don't know him personally, but he goes to certain art events I also attend, including one last night.

      He's not at all like the person in the dream. He's really cool and insightful. So I don't know why I dreamt of him being this way.)


      Dream #1

      I sat at an anime fest, in a place like a basketball arena. It was like everybody who had come to attend the festival were sitting in bleachers, looking down to a stage-like area that would be where the basketball court was. The seating section, as big as in any pro basketball arena, was completely packed.

      I sat near the front row. The row I sat in had a big, wooden bannister before it, which kind of reminds me of the front railing in the public area in a court room, or of the balcony area where the public sits during government sessions in capitols.

      The area where the basketball court would be was full, probably with artists' booths. But the festival patrons weren't going down there.

      We were all watching some presentation given to us by some white man who was apparently a manga artist. The man may have been tall, a little overweight, balding, with red-brown hair, and red-tan skin. He may have been wearing a kind of old, green sweatshirt and blue jeans.

      When the man's presentation was finished, the man announced that we could all come down to his booth. He had a black binder full of his manga art, and he informed us that we could each choose our favorite female manga character out of the binder and take the page for free. He might also have said he would sign the page.

      An overweight, black man about my age, with thick glasses and wearing a dark blue sweatshirt, sat to my left. He said, probably to me, in a joking-confiding way, "Well, everybody who's in line behind me better get ready to wait a long time. Cause I'm gonna take my time going through that book until I find my favorite anime girl."

      Some announcer called each person down by name. They called the man. Right after that, they called me. I stood behind the man as he slowly flipped through the pages of the binder.

      The binder was huge, full of pages. The pages were probably all in individual plastic sleeves. The art looked very pencil-y but very professional. Some of the art was in grey pencil. Some was in blue pencil.

      The man pulled something out of his pocket that looked like a cell-phone-sized laptop. He checked the time, put the device back in his pocket, and went back to leafing slowly through the pages.

      I was trying really hard to think to myself who my favorite manga character was. All I could come up with was Jasmine from Disney's Aladdin. I thought I should be able to come up with a character better than that. But I figured that maybe Jasmine from Aladdin really was my favorite manga character.

      The man had flipped all the way to the end of the binder. Then, saying out loud that he didn't see a manga girl he liked yet, he began flipping backward through the binder.

      As I watched the man flip through the pages of the binder, I saw a number of drawings of Jasmine. I figured I'd be happy with just about any of those drawings. Seeing all these Jasmine drawings, I was starting to get impatient with the man. I could have had a perfectly fine picture and been gone by now. But this man wouldn't stop taking his turn!

      The man pulled his "phone" back out of his pocket and looked at the time again. The phone indicated that he'd been flipping through the book for 20 or 22 minutes by now. (The phone may not have been showing the time. It may actually been timing the man as he flipped through the pages.)

      The man nodded approval at the time, put his phone back in his pocket, and began flipping slowly through the binder again. He may have gone all the way backward through the binder and started flipping forward again.