• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. suicide over artwork; two big cookies; la strada spies

      by , 10-13-2011 at 01:25 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was standing in some place like an art museum. I stood at the edge of two rooms, like I was in a third room or a hallway. The two rooms were separated from each other by a small divider. Both of the rooms were pretty wide and airy. But the walls seem to have been spattered with paint, mostly red, with highlights of yellow.

      In the room on my right, hanging right next to the dividing wall, was a long, hanging-scroll type of artwork. I may have thought of it as a Japanese painting. But may have been more like an embroidery, with a lot of gold thread. It showed Buddha on the top of a mountain, meditating.

      A little, Asian boy ran up to the artwork and began pushing at it. He was pushing at it so hard that the fabric was stretching, becoming gauze-like, semi-transparent. I was panicked that the boy was going to tear the artwork. But I didn't want to say anything to him.

      I now noticed that the artwork hung by something like a paper towel roll, through which ran a little rod like a metal clothes hanger. As the boy was pushing, the paper towel roll kept coming more and more off the rod. I knew the artwork would crumple to the ground.

      I still felt shy about talking to the boy. But I went and found an older Asian man, who I figured must have been the boy's father. The man was skinny, with coppery skin, a receding hairline, and a slim, square cut of dark, black hair.

      The man seemed to have a little trouble understanding English. But once he understood what I was saying, he went after the boy. By this time the artwork had probably been pushed to the ground. There seemed to be smoke, more like the sweetish-smelling stage smoke, all over the place. I seemed to be standing behind waist-high stacks of boxes.

      The man and I now stood in another room, which was like the frame of a burnt-out house. There was smoke or steam everywhere around us. But we may basically have been outside, on a kind of yellowy-pale day.

      The woman was upset, possibly because the artwork had been ruined. She was telling me and the man that she would be fine.

      I now saw from the woman's viewpoint. I told the man (and somebody else?) that I was going to go home and shoot myself in the heart.

      Dream #2

      I was in a living room with my old friend R. I sat on the floor. R sat either on the floor or on the couch. The room was kind of dim, and there was stuff, including blankets, cluttered all around us.

      I had a huge cookie before me. It was maybe 75cm in diameter. It was white, and it may have had something in it, like walnuts or pecans.

      R encouraged me to eat the cookie. He seemed to think I was being a bit too shy about it. So I took a piece off the edge of the cookie and ate it.

      R now revealed that he had a huge, brown cookie with stuff in it like chocolate chips, but not quite. R had to unwrap his cookie from a clear cellophane wrapper. He began eating his cookie and bragging about how good it was. Something about this was supposed to make me feel bad, like he'd "tricked" me into eating my own cookie while he got to eat his cookie, which was better than mine.

      I decided I'd test out R's cookie, so I grabbed a chunk of it and ate it. R looked at me like he wanted to kill me.

      Dream #3

      It was night. I was in the back of the car with a guy. I sat on the left side. The guy sat on the right.

      The guy was kind of tall, heavy, with a rounding jaw and squarish head. He had a short, square haircut with red-brown hair. He wore a black leather jacket. When he spoke, the guy had an accent that sounded Russian to me.

      The guy talked about the Federico Fellini movie La Strada. He mentioned a group of people who were in the movie, but more in a sense like the movie was a real-life environment, of which they were a part. They had come into this place as spies. They may have been from the FBI.

      The guy said these FBI spies had had such a great time in La Strada. "If they were having such a good time there, why did they go back to America? Why didn't they stay?"

      Something about what the guy said didn't make sense to me. It may have been that I'd thought that of course the guys would want to go home: they'd only been here to spy.

      We drove past some building like an auto repair garage. The garage door was all clear plexiglass, and the lights were on in the garage. But a couple of guys were pasting a humongous map of the United States up against the garage door, to block the view inside.
    2. recurring shop app; swimming out of flood

      by , 03-25-2011 at 11:43 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was outside on a sunny day with an acquaintance of mine, G. We stood out on some big lawn before something like a cabin for a summer camp. G is a scientist, and he knows all this technical stuff. So he was going to put some wacky, new app on my phone.

      I handed G my phone, hoping he wouldn't look at my internet and all the perverted sites I had on there. He didn't. He handed the phone back to me.

      The app ended up being some kind of shop. I didn't really find the shop very interesting. I kept trying to get out of the app, but I kept going backward through a bunch of screens just like the shop app's screen. It was really annoying.

      Dream #2

      I was in some body of water. A huge wave swept over me. I thought it would crush me or carry me away. But I somehow swam right through it. After this wave I sawm through some smooth water and then some much smaller waves. All this time a narrator was talking about something, possibly how dangerous the waves were.

      I was now swimming among a group of people. A huge tide had carried us out to sea. The common knowledge was that if this happened, you could never get back to land. But I could see the shore. It wasn't far away. I began to swim hard for the shore, encouraging the people around me to do the same. The current was pulling steadily toward the side, but I could force my way through the pull. The shore had something very colorful built on it, possibly an amusement park.

      I and my friend H were now in some weird space that was like a mix between a mountain path and a concrete path and some kind of indoor hallway. We were talking with two girls, both of whom seemed to me to be Asian.

      The earthquake in Japan had just occurred. Somehow, H and I had lived through the time period already, and we knew what had happened. Now we were back to the beginning of the earthquake, still in America.

      One of the girls spoke about the earthquake like it was something minor, just a usual earthquake. I tried to let her know, in a nice way, how bad it was. I asked her, "Do you have any family in Japan?"

      She said, "Japan? I'm from Africa!"

      I now realized that the girl wasn't Japanese. She was short, with coppery brown skin and reddish blonde hair.

      I now looked to the next girl, who looked more Japanese. I was going to tell her about everything that had happened during the earthquake. But she already looked panicked. We were in some place like her bedroom. She was laying down on a beanbag chair that was slumped against a wall. She was crying, worrying what had happened to her family. She had her right arm cradled over her head. I may have noticed that the bedroom was slightly cluttered and that there was some kind of heavy metal poster over the beanbag chair.