Coinception

There was a previous dream before 8 am that I couldn't remember. Anyway, this one occurred between 9 and 11 am this morning.

I was sitting there, reading a book. Yet the history of this very book is something unusual, for someone I had met on Facebook had written its contents. I knew that for a fact, yet when I picked up this book, the hardcover with a beige background, large-letter font and a plastic jacket, nothing else about it seemed unusual.

Still can't remember whether I was just reading the book, or whether the events inside were actually happening to me, or whether in fact I was experiencing the book's contents while reading it. The only chapter title I remember is 13. Darriel. Why that name, I will never know. Yet in it, a mother had scribed in pen, telling her son, who was likely failing subjects in school, to "read this chapter". The chapter went on to discuss what written submissions had earned a failing mark, and whatnot. I, too, had written on the book's pages in pen, even though others would soon be reading the same book.

On chapter 19, there was a bit about camping, and sure enough, I was sitting under the stars, with the author of the book, at a campfire in the woodlands. Somehow, the author "knew" that because there were thunderstorms in the east, those would drift off and there would be no rain for 24 hours. Not sure if any of that were true. Just as I prepared to comment, I was whisked to a road in a nearby town...or maybe I just woke up, and was wondering about emailing a different author I knew. A flashback to a different forest, east of town, that I had visited before. Later, my father quipped that the author would have to be even stronger than him to accomplish some of the book's tasks, which was impossible.

From there, I was running south on a main street, very wide, and the sun was out, but no idea what season it was. I ran across intersections, bus stops and trees, seemingly never getting tired after about 10 kilometres. Running up to another bus stop advertisement, there was writing in a non-English language of a person who had an unusual expression on his face, reminding me of yet another person I'd met on Facebook. It roughly said, "every person, we serve equally, everyday". Maybe this was a utopian world that catered to disabilities. Just maybe. I kept running.

Waking up, the clouds were very bright, just after 11 am, and the Sun was about to shine through the blinds, signalling that I was to wake up, to do what I needed to do. In case you're wondering why none of my dreams are lucid, well, I hadn't had such a dream for years, except for that one in November. The lucid part of that dream lasted maybe three minutes, yet I had no control over any part of it, in stark contrast to the dreams I'd experienced before.