• 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. confining russians; girl in vietnam; purple robot-mold

      by , 07-31-2011 at 01:31 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in some run-down part of some big town. I was on a block with thin apartment buildings. The outsides of the buildings were grey, like they were either of unpainted cinder block or had their paint chipped off or worn off. It was daytime, and the light seemed kind of yellowy-pale and humid.

      I was with a group of people. We all seemed to be in a line, and we were all being directed into one of the apartment complexes. I understood that we had all been sought out by some group and brought here.

      I was now with the group that was seeking us out. They were seeking out Russians. But I wasn't a Russian. I had a bad feeling that I was simply part of their operation, kind of disguised as one of the people being sought, but that I was actually helping catch the people and get them confined in this one apartment building.

      I was now with a line of Russian men, heading into this apartment building. One of the men in front of me was blonde, with a short haircut and pale skin. We got inside. The door opened directly to a dark, narrow, winding stairwell.

      There was some kind of military guy just inside. He looked to be maybe in his 40s, a bit overweight, with a pudgy face, sweaty, and stubble-covered. He wore some kind of camouflage trenchcoat and one of those thick, round hats with the fur lining and earflaps.

      I asked the man what I was doing here, what the Russians were here for, and if I really needed to be a part of this. The man raised a finger to his lips and said, "Sh... Just wait here until they're all upstairs. Act like you're going upstairs, too. Then, once they're all upstairs, just leave through the front door. We want to make sure we have them all here for the trial. As long as they think you're going, they'll go, too."

      I now felt really terrible -- even though I definitely planned to leave this place as soon as I could. But it was like all the Russians had to think I was going with them, or else they wouldn't go. So I had to trick them into thinking I was going, too. But I wasn't. Why was I helping these military people capture these people?

      I didn't quite feel like I could leave. Now that I knew there was going to be a trial, I wanted to see what it was going to be about. So I'd stay for that.

      The trial took place in a room on the first floor, just off from the stairwell. The room was short, but kind of wide. It was barren, with dirty, concrete floors and plain, white walls. The light was incandescent, but it also felt cold and barren. There was a group of officials seated at a long folding table to my left. On the other side of the room was a vague group of people. Some were people being judged. Some were attorneys.

      Someone had told me, again, that I could come in and see what the trial was all about. They told me that I could actually even help them out with the trial. I didn't want to help out with the trial, but I suddenly found myself doing so.

      I stood out on the floor, giving some kind of random speech. I was trying to make myself look like I was defending the Russians. But what I was really doing was making them feel more comfortable, so they'd give up as much information as possible.

      Dream #2

      There was a man in some part of the world like Vietnam. I'm not sure what the time period was. It seemed like nowadays, or maybe even a little bit into the future. The man had done some spy-like thing, probably against America. He had been discovered. But he was already beginning to make a quick getaway.

      The man looked like a stereotypical "Sgt. Rock" type of soldier. He wore a camouflage uniform, a rounded helmet with something like netting over it, and he had a muscular face and stubble. He may even have been smoking a cigarette.

      The man was now getting into something like a spaceship. It was right next to some kind of hut on stilts. The spaceship looked like an old, 1950s style rocket, with the elliptical body and tailfins and everything. But it was made of some really silvery material.

      The man had climbed into some kind of side door or hatch high up on the ship, possibly via some high window, or even the roof, of the hut. There were now a lot of rushing and booming sounds.

      The space shuttle seemed to be lifting off. But now an Asian-looking woman, who was actually a spy for the American side, was calling out the window of the hut for the man. She had been assigned to get him back so that the Americans could put him on trial for whatever his spy activity had been. So she was pretending that she loved him and she didn't want him to go.

      At this point I may have seen from the man's point of view. The woman seemed huge, like she was stretching all the way up into the air to pull me down. Her cries also seemed really terrifying somehow, like supernatural moans. For some reason, either I or the soldier decided to stay, since the woman loved either me or the soldier.

      Dream #3

      There were a group of people trying to fight some kind of alien menace. I'm not really sure what it was. The group was maybe a couple of guys and a girl.

      One of the guys was separated from the rest of the group. He ended up finding the body of a woman who was thought to be in on the aliens' plans. But he didn't know that his discovery of the woman's body was planned.

      The woman was actually an alien. The aliens were actually like robots. But the robots were made out of this purple mold, which was something like a living machine that could shape itself in various ways.

      The man had done something to the woman, possibly cutting her open with a scalpel for some reason. A piece of the purple mold squirted out of the woman's body and onto the man's left eye.

      The man didn't pay it any attention: it wasn't much. But the mold worked its way behind the man's eye and into his brain. I knew this meant that the mold would proliferate in the man's brain and body, eventually turning him into a robot.

      Later the rest of the man's group would (or did?) find the man. They would (or did) think, wrongly, that the man was fine, when he actually was an alien robot, ready to spread the mold into other human bodies.
    3. dream within dream on brooklyn bridge; spy killed

      by , 05-21-2011 at 12:46 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was on the Brooklyn Bridge with my mother. The walkway of the bridge felt a lot different. It was like all the suspension cables were packed tightly together, and as if there were layers and layers of them. The cables seemed to run incredibly high up into the air. And the bridge itself seemed much bigger and taller than it is IWL.

      I was standing out on some metal beam over the walkway with my mom. I may have been holding on to some of the suspension cables for balance.

      I was telling my mom some dream I had. In the dream I stood out on some beach, possibly bordering a jungle. One of my co-workers, DD, was there. He had been followinf me around, snooping into my business.

      Then, in this dream, a flood had come. It managed to wash me up onto a railroad freight car that was itself filled with debris. I stood on the debris, but it also sometimes felt like the freight car had a solid, red roof on it, and that I stood on that.

      I was carrying something like notebooks and textbooks. I was actually in this place to begin with, I now understood, so I could study this stuff. There may actually have been a school desk in the distance, now littered with debris, which I had possibly been using for studying.

      DD was now running all over the place, trying to find out where I'd gone. He was really intent on snooping on me for some reason. But I kept quiet and just got to my studying again.

      I might not have spoken this dream to my mom. I may have thought it while she read my thoughts. As the dream ended, I may have gotten distracted and tried to tell her the dream again. I may not have known whether I had actually finished telling the dream. But at some point I felt like I was done telling my mom the dream.

      For some reason I now climbed through the multi-layered lattice of the steel suspension cables. As I did, my mom asked me, through voice or thought, whether the people publishing me dreams were paying me a lot of money. I said no, that the newspaper (or periodical) I wrote my dreams in took my dreams for free.

      I climbed down along a section of suspension cables that was like a ladder. It wasn't until I had started climbing down this ladder that I had felt any fear of heights. The bridge was so tall!

      I was now back down on the wooden walkway of the bridge. My mom was already down there, but she was now an old man. She walked behind me as we walked on the outside of the fence guarding the walkway. We were on the edges of the wooden slats now, possibly heading back out to climb on the suspension cables.

      The old man started talking about his life as a reporter, back in the old days. He said that in those days reporters really dug into a story. Nowadays, the old man said, reporting was shallow and lazy. I felt bad about what the old man was saying, as if I could have done something to prevent this.

      Dream #2

      I was in a living room which was positioned in the house like a bedroom. A few people had been in the room. They were all nice-looking and young.

      Among these people was a Latina woman who had been recognized as a spy. The woman had been fatally injured or had been made to take poison.

      Everybody else was now gone except for the woman and I. I may not have been "there," but just seeing the room. The woman lay on the couch on her back, her head and shoulders kind of slumping off the front of the couch. She was still alive and she may have said something.

      I now had a view of another or the same woman. She was standing over me, as if I were a child. My view came up to just under her breasts. She wore a tight t-shirt and a dark blue hoodie. She was in trouble. She had possibly just been shot, or else she was possibly about to be shot.

      Updated 05-21-2011 at 01:11 PM by 37466

    4. dance shows and concession stand

      by , 04-27-2011 at 11:42 AM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in some kind of a small performance space. There were folding chairs all arranged before a small stage. There may have been 50 or 75 chairs. The floors were wood. The area with the chairs was dim. I stood at the back of this area.

      The space behind the chairs was empty and lit, possibly with a combination of incandescent and fluorescent lights, as if the overhead light were incandescent, but a light from some other room were shining into the space as well. An adult woman was teaching a little girl how to do some kind of traditional dance. The girl may have been dressed in a dark pink leotard and some kind of sash that gave her a traditional look.

      I stood there for a moment watching the little girl dance. The woman then told me that the girl wasn't ready to perform yet. The woman would give her a bit more rehearsal and then let me watch her. So it would be best if I didn't watch her right now. I assented and walked away. The woman may then have started training another girl or a couple of boys and girls.

      I sat in the seats at the very front. I was the only person in the audience. I sat there in the dark, looking at the stage. There was some kind of set on the stage, maybe colored blue and gold-orange. At some point a black woman and her son sat down in the row behind me and to my left.

      Somehow the idea of food came up. The boy wanted some kind of sweet food, maybet sorbet, from a makeshift concession stand which had been right where I was standing while I had been watching the girl dance. The boy told his mom, "It sure is good we waited, isn't it? Now the sorbet is ready, and we get it for free!"

      I realized that we had been given tickets for free food from the snack bar. The tickets were like red, carbdoard circus tickets. But we'd had to wait until a certain time before the food was given out for free.

      I stood up to get some food. For some reason I felt like I needed to beat the son to the makeshift concession stand, which may just have been a big, red cooler and some cheapish folding screen, with the dance instructor lady pulling food out of the cooler.

      But I now heard an announcement on an overhead speaker. A woman's voice said, "The food being handed out right now is only rotten food." I understood that the timing of the good food being handed out was messed up. So I headed back to my seat to wait for the good food to start being offered.

      But before I got to my seat, I started seeing things as if I were a camera. My view floated to a few different adults. At each person, the view would freeze and some little screen-title would pop up, saying who the person was. The people were all kind of young, edgy, and cool. They posed as a rock band. But they were really a group of spies. There were one woman and two or three men.

      One man I remember sat in some booth like a shop. He sat behind a turntable, as if he were a DJ. He was white, with red-blonde hair and chunky, black-rimmed eyeglasses. He wore a striped shirt.

      Behind the man were all kinds of circular objects, like plates or records. They were all colored differently, and each had some variation of a wave-like pattern running through it. One circle was yellow. Another was grey, with a dark grey squiggle-wave humping up in the center. Another was blue, with some kind of white, shell-like cloud pattern in the center.

      Another member of the band was either a black man or an Asian woman who sat in the front row and far left side of the folding chairs. I think at first he was a really nice looking black man. Then my view went through the other members again. Then when I got back to him, he was a really cute Asian girl.