• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    maboroshi

    1. south america map; eating medals; girls' race; food before hike; no sex in loft; girl's movements

      by , 12-09-2011 at 03:27 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was walking with a couple "friends" through a large area like a mix between a museum and an airport. The floors were grey. There was at least one balcony overhead. The light was a watery-white fluorescent.

      One of my friends was a woman. She going to take a trip somewhere in South America. It was somehow like I had gotten her interested in this trip, or like I had gotten her involved with some organization that had put her on this trip.

      The woman was kind of worried about how the trip was going to turn out. She didn't even know exactly where she was going in South America. But she didn't want to be so far away from the equator that she was always cold, and she didn't want to be in such a small town that there was never anything to do.

      I told the woman that we would look at a map of South America. If she told me enough about the place she was going, I could probably figure out where it was on the map.

      I now saw that the big area we were in had a gigantic map of South America. The map stood upright. It was maybe twenty meters tall. It was shaded to match the land forms and vegetation areas of South America. It may have been three-dimensional as well. On the floor, perpendicular to the map, was a long platform-like base with words on it.

      I pointed through the moderate crowd up toward the map of South America. I could almost imagine myself driving along some of the roads in South America.

      The woman must have been telling me about the place, because I was gettng a distinct impression that she was going to ----- (? - Chile, or Argentina?). I told the woman she didn't have to worry, that she would be going to a very warm place.

      But now we were walking up toward a whole new map. I don't know what happened to the previous map. But we'd never gotten very close to it. But now we were getting up much closer to the second tall map.

      The second map may have been larger than the first map as well. For some reason, I was afraid to be so close. The map was all blue. The ocean surrounding South America was a dark blue. South America was a pale blue or turquoise.

      One city near the northeast end of South America began blinking. But the woman then told me the name of the city where she would be: "Las Ne-----." That city started blinking, just a little to the southwest of the very center of South America.

      I knew that this city was in Brazil. The city was small, and the winters got very cold there. The woman would be miserable. But this is where she'd been assigned to go. And I'd gotten her into this whole thing in the first place! I felt terrible. But I still tried to convince myself that maybe she'd end up liking it.

      I looked over to my friend. She was now TB, a male co-worker from a couple jobs back, who IWL comes from Brazil.

      Dream #2

      I was riding a bike through a suburban park, along a concrete path. It was a sunny day. I was all alone, but I may possibly have felt like I was a part of some race.

      I rode across a lawn, which was flat at first, then rolled down a small slope. As I went down the slope there was a small building about fifty meters ahead of me and off to my left. I headed for another concrete path at the bottom of the slope.

      Closer to the path was a small tree, kind of like a pine tree. But its limbs and branches were rather barren of needles. The branches were also dotted with a strange kind of fruit.

      The meat of the fruit was yellow, but very small. It was dotted with seeds, like a strawberry is. But the seeds had either grown so big or ingested so much of the fruit's meat, that they were huge, taking up more space now than the meat of the fruit did. The seeds were shaped like coffee beans. There were also brownish pine-needles sticking out of the fruit.

      As I got down toward the concrete path, a young woman came biking up the slope toward me. I figured she was gay (a shallow assumption) because she was overweight, wore a boyish t-shirt and khaki shorts, and had a boyish haircut of curly, brown hair.

      I knew that this woman was in a race. I figured it was probably the race I was also in. I didn't seem too concerned about the race, though.

      I was now eating as I was riding. Maybe I was eating something like beef jerky or fruit roll-ups. I remember I was chewing like crazy, almost like a wild, angry animal.

      I pulled a small, narrow paper back out into my field of view. I pulled two small pins out of the bag. They were backed with brass and fronted with some kind of multi-colored, glass or porcelain design. They were medals for races I'd won.

      I may have been stopped and standing or sitting on the lawn by this point. I may possibly have popped one or both of the medals in my mouth, as if I were going to eat them. But I suddenly realized that you don't eat medals. You save them. I was really hungry. But I put the medals back in the bag.

      Dream #3

      I was inside some kind of structure with a lot of people. The structure -- I'm guessing -- was a tent made out of tarp-like material, like you see for big picnics or for large booths during summertime festivals. The walls were all pulled down, though, so that the sunlight coming through them was a dim, dusty amber.

      I was in the midst of the crowd, talking with two little Asian girls. They were maybe five years old. They were good friends. They both had short hair, cut about jaw-length.

      The two girls were now being called away, maybe by one girl's dad, who may have been a tall, kind of skinny, white man. The girls had to go get ready for a running race.

      I now stood in another area. I looked up to my right. There was a doorway in the wall of the tarp. From that doorway, a plastic-boarded running-track was laid out through the center of the structure. It was bordered on either side by some kind of barrier -- maybe a jumble of stretch-tape barriers, steel-gate barriers, and plastic net barriers.

      Everybody milled around on either side of this race track, kind of half-anticipating the start of the race. I may have looked up through the doorway to see the girls. They were in their starting positions, which were actually a few meters outside the doorway.

      I was now back a ways from the track. The race started. Two girls may have run into the structure. But I didn't know one of the girls. The other girl was one of the friends. But she now seemed much younger than the other friend I'd been talking to. And she didn't know how to stay in her own lane. She was veering far to the left.

      The race may have been stopped, due to the lack of focus by its two participants. Or it may have continued, though nobody really cared about it anymore.

      But I wondered what happened to the other girl I'd been talking to. I may have looked (maybe only in my mind's eye) up through the doorway again. I may have come to the conclusion that thing had been so confusing at the start of the race that the girl had tripped and fallen.

      I was sad that the girl had fallen. Everybody knew she was the favorite to win the race. I thought they might even start the race all over again for her sake. But maybe they wouldn't. That might not be fair.

      I then thought that maybe I had caused the girl to fall. Maybe, while I'd been talking to the two little girls, I'd caused the older little girl to become so sexually attracted to me that she was distracted, and so she'd messed up her footing at the beginning of the race.

      Dream #4

      I was sitting in a seating area of a small deli with my friend MG, a Swedish guy I'd worked with on an Americorps program in New York.

      We were going on some hike somewhere. We'd stopped at this deli to pick up some stuff before we left. But then we'd decided to sit here for a while before we really headed off and drove to wherever we were going to start this hike.

      The table we sat at was a small, two-person table. From about waist-height up, there was a mirror running along the wall to my left. Across the narrow dining area from me, some refrigerated food and beverage display cases lined the walls. The floors of the area were brown tile. Farther ahead, behind MG, I could see where this area opened up into the larger store area of the deli.

      Two girls walked down toward, then past, our table. The girls were maybe eighteen or nineteen years old. They were incredibly hot, with blonde hair, tight shorts and soft t-shirts clinging closely to their breasts. It seemed like the girls may have been planning to go hiking, too.

      The girls sat directly behind us. It seemed like they wanted us to talk to them. But I felt like I was too old to hit on eighteen-year-old girls. I'd look like a dirty, old man.

      My backpack (? - don't wear one) was on the table in front of me. It was stuffed so full it almost looked like a green ball. I unzipped it and pulled out a clear, disposable container, like you might see in a deli, holding a single slice of cake.

      The container held a meal or side dish made out of rice and a ton of black beans and black bean sauce. I ate the entire meal, scraping as much of the black bean sauce as I possibly could.

      MG said, "Are you sure you have enough ----- for our hike?" I didn't know whether he meant food or water. So I told him I was fine. I said that after I'd eaten this thing, I wouldn't need anything else for the rest of the day.

      MG said, "Well, I guess some people just have different bodily needs. It's kind of amazing to me. I would never go that long without -----."

      I now wondered whether I hadn't misunderstood MG. I'd just eaten a ton of food, it seemed to me. Why would I need to eat anymore for the rest of the day? MG must have meant that I'd need water. And now that I thought of it, I didn't have any water in my backpack. I would need water.

      I looked over to one of the refrigerated display cases. It was a narrow cabinet with a glass door, holding a bunch of sodas and waters. I saw a few waters, like Poland Spring waters, on the bottom shelf. I figured I'd buy one of those.

      Dream #5

      I was in an apartment with a pretty girl. It was night, and all the lights in the apartment were off. The only light in the apartment was from dim city lights and the light of the moon, which was apparently full and huge, so bright that the rest of the sky was inky black.

      I was apparently house-sitting here. I'd invited the girl over for the night. The apartment was big and nice. But the living room held both the couch and the bed. My viewpoint kept changing between the couch and the bed.

      The girl was over in the shadows of the room, maybe in a corner near the door. She had specifically come here to have sex with me. But now I seemed to be afraid to have sex with her. I may have expressed a fear that I didn't want to be having sex right at the moment when the people I was house-sitting for returned.

      I was now sitting with my back to a window or to a sliding-glass door. But some part of the window must have been open, because a gauzy, billowy curtain kept wafting up around me. I may have been looking off to my right, to a TV set, which was turned off.

      The girl was on the phone, either the apartment's phone or her own cell phone (which may have been an old, silvery, flip-open style phone). The girl was talking to her friend, complaining about all my excuses for not having sex with her. These excuses were mostly about the apartment itself.

      "But," the girl said, "if this place were a loft apartment, where we were the only ones who could get into the entire floor, there'd be no worry about anybody seeing us coming into the apartment."

      (This had, I guess, been one of my worries.)

      The girl now said, "But, wait! Isn't this a loft? This is! This is a loft apartment! We have the whole floor to ourselves!"

      I realized the girl was right. Maybe we could have sex, after all. But suddenly my mind began filling up with a million other reasons why the girl and I couldn't have sex.

      I was now kneeling on the floor, near the corner of a coffee table that stood before the couch. The girl was back to complaining to her friend on the floor about all the excuses I kept giving for not having sex.

      All the time I listened to the girl, and thought of ways to get past all my silly excuses, so that I could have sex, I was staring at a sculpture of a woman's torso.

      The sculpture was nicely shaped. But it seemed to be brittle and plastery. And the skin was a little too orange to look human. The torso was made to look like it wore a black bra and a skinny pair of black panties. I may have been turned on by the panties.

      Dream #6

      I was out in some area, kind of like a parking lot that was being used for a summer festival or fair. There were a decent amount of people milling about.

      A little girl was milling around with her mom and dad, maybe five meters away from me. The mom and dad were standing at a distance, maybe eating some food. The dad was tall and thin, bald, wearing a white polo shirt. The mom was shorter, maybe a little overweight, blonde, with a kind of saggy face.

      The girl was maybe nine years old, blonde, with tan skiny. She wore a summer dress with thick straps and a plaid pattern with a dark pink background and lighter pink criss-crosses. The girl stood in front of some sort of belt-rope barrier.

      The girl began doing dance moves or gymnastics moves, possibly while she was eating an ice cream cone. She lifted her right leg out to her side, then bent over to touch her right arm to her right leg. She then "bounced" off her leg and twirled her torso and arms over to the left. She moved into something like a somersault, then stood and began the move again.

      As the girl did all of this, her limbs formed trails, like in a multiple exposure photograph or film, so that it looked like the girl, as she moved, was forming phantom arms and legs. It was really beautiful.
    2. housing mall hallucination

      by , 11-21-2011 at 02:39 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      It was night. I was riding in a car with a group of people. I sat in the backseat, on the passenger side. We were driving through a neighborhood full of buildings that looked kind of like houses, but were more like apartments. They were thin and tall, with three or four floors. Each floor was like its own apartment.

      We drove past blocks and blocks of these houses. We were also driving really fast, passing all the houses at an incredible rate. We went up and down hills. Some of the hills we passed over seemed to have these house-like apartments set into them.

      As we passed the side of one of these buildings, a woman, either in my head or in the car, told some weird story about how she'd accidentally dialed 911 on her phone and then left the phone alone. The girl was some kind of hot girl, and she lived with a couple other hot girls.

      Apparently all the girls thought they were going to get in trouble. But they also thought the whole thing had been some kind of prank that another girl had played on them.

      We now blasted through a neighborhood full of these houses. But as we did, we seemed to lift up onto a ramp. It lifted us over what looked like two or three different levels of these blocks of tall, thin house-apartments.

      As we drove along, the levels of housing blocks began to appear more like floors in a gigantic shopping mall. It was like we were driving along a balcony walkway in the mall, one that took us across the center of the open space made by the balconies projecting out from the walls.

      I saw all of this as if I were positioned backward in the car. But soon it was like I was in the front of the front seat, looking back beyond the people in the front and back seats. Then it was like the car we'd been in was gone. The people who'd been in the car were probably also gone now.

      I could see all the way down to the first floor of the mall. I saw that the mall's floorplan was built with a circle at its center. From this circle, the mall branched off into four separate shopping areas. They must have been corridors full of stores. But all I could see was that the areas each began with one huge store.

      The back section, which was, apparently, where we'd come from, was green. The sections to the left and right were blue and yellow -- maybe yellow on my right and blue on my left. I'm not sure. And I don't know what the color of the front section was.

      I was now up on some high floor in the mall, probably standing out at the top of the escalators and in front of a map and information sign.

      A man or woman stood with me. He or she was tall with grey hair. He or she seemed kind of intelligent, probably liberal.

      The person asked me something like would I like him or her to take me around the mall. I said no. I didn't have much time to spend in the mall, anyway, and I already had a plan for how I was going to do it.

      I said that I had come from the green area. I knew that each section of the mall was humongous, enough for one day's worth of exploration. I said I was going to head back to the green area and spend a little time there. Then I'd look for the exit and, apparently, find the car I'd driven here in the parking lot.

      The person may possibly have said that was fine. The person was now gone.

      I turned around and walked toward the front area. I walked into some big, dim room. The room was empty, and it was barely lit with an almost amber-colored light. It was shaped kind of like a wide, shallow seashell. The walls were a dark, polished, black material.

      There were quite a few people in the room. But we were all quiet and calm. An Asian woman's voice came on over some speakers. The woman began informing us that everything was about to begin.

      Apparently we all, even I, knew what to do. We walked to the edge of the room, where the carpet stepped up toward the wall, forming something like a kneeling area, like for communion at church. We all knelt down.

      The woman told us something about breathing in a substance which would cause hallucinations. The hallucinations weren't caused, the woman said, by the chemical. Rather, the chemicals we'd breathe in would trigger the chemical "mercaptan" (???) in our brains. This would create hallucinations.

      As we breathed in the substance we would have to think of some famous person we wanted to see. We would hallucinate that person, but the person would also do something like materialize, be real.

      We all now put plastic bags over our mouths and, probably, noses. The bags were weaker than grocery bags. But they were all about half-inflated with something. Even when the air inside the bag was breathed in, the bag remained half-inflated. I tried to figure out how it worked. But I couldn't.

      I breathed the air in. I could smell a trace of something, which I assumed was the drug. The famous person I wanted to see was the 17th century English poet Abraham Cowley. So I focused on him.

      At some point the back wall had disappeared, revealing another room like the room I was in. The room was completely empty.

      But I wasn't having any hallucinations about Abraham Cowley. I figured this whole thing probably didn't work after all, anyway. I pulled the bag down from my face.

      I know got a bit of a heavy bump from someone on my right side. I looked over -- it was now like I was sitting on a stool at a bar. All the people were sitting at the bar. And the wall seemed to be back.

      The person to my right was standing. It was the person who had been standing with me near the information map. I now knew that this person was a man. But he was now done up completely like a woman. The reason he'd left before was so he could get all done up.

      He didn't look bad. He was probably in his fifties, and he dressed like a liberal woman in her fifties. He wore jeans and a black, ribbed, turtleneck sweater. He had his short, grey hair done in a feminine fashion. He wore a lot of foundation makeup, which I thought was weird. But he didn't look bad.

      Still, I was kind of embarrassed that the guy had come to hang out with me. I wondered if, wherever we went in the mall, the people around us would think I was going out on a date with this guy. I didn't want anybody to think that.

      (Shallow...)

      The person spoke about something in a relaxed but kind of loud voice. As the person spoke I felt a bit more relaxed. It seemed like if we just spoke about things that didn't have to do with sexuality, I wouldn't have to worry about what people would think of me for walking around with the person.
    3. weird sculpture my fault; man walking in front of me

      by , 05-11-2011 at 11:43 AM
      Good morning, everybody. My sensation of the first dream wasn't quite like any other dream sensation I've had, although the dream itself seems kind of usual.

      I had the dream in something close to a waking state. Upon "coming to" and realizing the dreamlike quality of the perception, I could feel the "dream," as if it were sticking to the back of my head.

      I took NyQuil last night, as I've had the flu. I think I've had a similar "back of the head" sensation after taking NyQuil in the past. But not the weird "awake dreaming" sensation.

      This may partly be because of the book I'm reading, The Measure of Madness, which includes stories of people who committed crimes due to hallucinations or delusions.

      I've wondered how a delusion or hallucination would feel different from a dream. I think my brain was trying to accommodate me to some degree by showing me an "awake dream."

      Dream #1

      I was in some kind of restaurant that looked like it was part of Lever House. There were glass walls on my left side, showing mild daylight. The floors were stoner or concrete. Something about it now feels to me like the lobby of the UN as well.

      I sat at a table with someone like my boss. I was told that the reports I had put together provided weird instructions. The result was that people ended up making a weird structure. The structure was now behind me.

      I now stood at the back end of the structure, looking along it. It was a weird sculpture made of black iron or some kind of black-painted metal. The metal was made to have the rounded shapes of things like cartoon trees and shrubs. But it was all featureless and black, and it was all tilted 45 degrees on its side. There was also some kind of garbage all over the place, like white packing-styrofome sheets.

      Dream #2

      I was out in the city very late at night with a group of rich people. The people were all a little bit older than I. There was one pretty girl. The people all felt a lot classier than I.

      We were walking near my office. We might all actually have been heading to my office. At least I was. It was like I had to go to work.

      As we walked down a side street, some apparently random guy got in my way. He was tall, pale, and white, with a short, red beard. He was slightly overweight. He wore dark jeans, a long-sleeved, striped t-shirt, and a baseball cap. The shirt and cap were some kind of dull green-brown.

      The man would walk really close in front of me, slowing me down. I would try to get out of his way, but he would move back into my way. I would try to slow down, hoping he'd just forget about me. But he would walk a certain distance ahead, then constantly look back at me over his shoulder.

      The group of people were about 10 meters behind me. They were talking and laughing. I realized they knew this guy, and that they found the game he was playing on me kind of amusing.

      I knew the guy was "reverse following" me. I didn't want him to know where my office was. I arrived on the corner with my office. I needed to turn left to get there. The man had already turned left. So I turned right and walked a ways. Then I turned back around and headed to my office. But when I got to my office, I saw the man standing right in the revolving door, waiting for me, staring at me.