• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    maboroshi

    1. 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.
    2. judy garland's friend; drag queen rock stars; tattoo parlor and japanese restaurant

      by , 05-30-2011 at 12:50 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      An old version of Judy Garland and an older man were in a hotel room. The hotel room was lit a little dimly, and the light had a slightly orange tinge to it. Garland sat in a nice, big chair, and the old man sat in a similar chair about a meter and a half away.

      The old man was apparently interviewing Garland. I kept seeing Garland's face in close up, as if my view were the camera's view. Garland had her hair done in pigtails, kind of like she had it as Dorothy in Wizard of Oz, but a little scraggly and awry. Garland's face was skinny and kind of wrinkled. But overall she carried herself with a lot of dignity.

      Garland started saying that she needed or that she wanted to do a couple of things. The old man interrupted the interview either to get something for Garland or to let her do whatever she needed to do.

      It struck me that the old man acted kind of effeminate, but also kind of classy. He was obviously Garland's friend, but her kind of acted like her servant as well. He might have taken the task of being Garland's friend a little too seriously.

      Dream #2

      Some kind of documentary. There were a lot of shots at night of groups of decent-looking, transvestites. They were all kind of skinny and dressed in evening wear. Some even wore tiaras. They were all kind of acting rowdy, like rebels or like punks.

      The documentary explained that these transvestites had joined together into a rock band as part of some plan to invade the rock world. They got into some big rock event, possibly a punk rock event, that had been full of kind of conventional acts, and they caused some sort of a scene.

      But apparently, over time, the transvestite rock band got really famous. There were scenes, all night scenes, again, of girls chasing the rock band's cars around.

      There was one particular guy in the group that was very popular. But he was also really depressive. There was one scene of him, probably in a dressing room, when he was all done up like a woman. He looked nice enough, but he was just so terribly depressed that it was messing up his act.

      In another scene, the guy was out in a car at night, in the backseat with another person, being driven along some huge driveway in front of a large building like a mansion or a museum or a state building. The guy was only halfway done up like a girl. His hair was only halfway set in some kind of 80s style, so it looked like he'd just woken up. His face had make-up on, but his face still looked, not just masculine, but completely exhausted.

      As he was being driven away, there was a pack of girls chasing the car, trying to get into the car. The guy just kept screaming, "Leave me alone! Can't you leave me alone?"

      At some point there was a really aggressive girl who kept pounding on the window. It seemed less like she was infatuated with the guy and more like she actually wanted to hurt him, or at least intimidate him, let him know she hated him.

      Dream #3

      I was in some busy part of town, with a lot of people on the sidewalk. A lot of the stores seemed to be open to the street, like booths, but they were the size of regular small shops.

      I walked past one shop which was a tattoo parlor. There were two guys or two girls who looked kind of like guys working there. They wore black jeans and black t-shirts, and their arms were covered in tattoos.

      I thought out what I would tell my friend H, who loves tattoos. I would tell her, "See? There's a tattoo shop with pretty interesting people right here. And you never even looked for it. You were too afraid. But look! It's even right next to the Japanese restaurant you like to go to!"

      I passed the Japanese restaurant that H and I have gone to a couple times.