Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid Lucid #266: Whoopy Cough I’m gazing out the window of my kitchen at my back yard. The fence is oddly low, and I see a young girl walking by with her dog. I’m astonished to see that the girl has the head of a blue hippo stuffed animal. When I mentally reality check in response to this, I realize that I must be dreaming. I turn away from the window and the scene gets a little unstable, breaking into three rectangular pieces that seem to move independently and slide past one another. I relax and take it slow, rubbing my hands together, walking calmly around, talking out loud, and finally licking each hand. The scene feels reasonably stable, but my vision is almost entirely faded out now. I imagine that I have a big pair of glasses covering my vision and take them off. (The glasses look just like a set of Oculus Rift virtual reality goggles.) Immediately, my vision is crystal clear and I have a completely realistic view of my kitchen! Wife is standing in the den near my desk. “Hey!” I say to her. “I was having trouble for a second, but we’re in my lucid dream right now!” She looks around a bit, saying something like, “Is that what this is?” “I was thinking I’d either take you for a fly or…” I say. “Yoooouuuuuuuuu…” Wife interrupts, pointing her finger at me dramatically, “want sex!” “Or, right, that was my other idea.” Spoiler for Somewhat strange, rather racy part: We walk over to the couch, and now she’s wearing a negligee, which she quickly shrugs off as she lays down on the couch. She looks amazing! I'm incredibly excited but as I approach, her lady parts produce a loud, unmistakable coughing sound. “Did you... just cough from there?” I ask, shocked but still no less interested than before. Wife looks behind her and to the right, as if she heard someone or something approaching. “Hurry, we haven’t got much time!” she says. Just before we get started, though... ...the dream ends.
Updated 03-29-2015 at 03:24 AM by 57387
Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid Lucid #256: The Swim to Sin City I’m standing at my kitchen again, looking out into the darkened back yard. This is so familiar… I remember that my last lucid dream began the same way. I perform a nose pinch reality check and now I’m lucid. I phase through the exterior door to a nighttime scene in my back yard. The pool is here, but it’s been drained dry. I phase through the pool fence and stand at the edge. I recall (incorrectly) that OpheliaBlue is attempting to complete a dare to go swimming. I think, hey, maybe I’ll swim in a lucid tonight, she will too, and it’ll be badass synchronicity tomorrow. I raise my hands from waist to shoulder height, knowing that the pool will fill back up with water. It does, and I’m super pleased. I try to play it cool and not be so shocked when dream control comes through. I dive into the water, happily swimming about and noting that the water feels quite real. After a bit, my vision fades, and I’m in the void. A few more seconds of swimming, then that sensation fades, and I start rubbing my hands together, determined to come into a new dream scene… … I emerge back in the kitchen, then phase back through to the outside. Through the pool fence, back into the pool, and more swimming. After diving down a bit, my vision goes dark. I try not to worry about this, though, and just swim forward as hard as I can. I go for a while before the swimming sensation dims a bit. Soon I feel some kind of hard surface and find myself… … standing on a table in a Las Vegas casino, next to some kind of big, blocky control box. To my left, there’s a man sitting at a slot machine. He pulls the handle and I decide to make his day and get him a jackpot. Quarters start pouring out of the machine and the man dances with excitement. A man in a suit (a casino employee, I guess) points at me, looking annoyed, then points at the big control box that I’m standing next to. I have strange thoughts where I contemplate whether my dream powers actually affected this control box and not the slot machine directly. My lucidity’s starting to fade a bit, and then I see a young boy in the lobby ahead, throwing up into a trash can. There’s a frazzled-looking man attending to him, and the man shouts that he’s not the boy’s father and who left this kid here? This additional distraction costs me my lucidity. I jump down off of the table to go help out. I spend a while wrapped up in the dream plot of trying to find this kid’s parents until the dream ends.