• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    rshort1202

    1. Monday, July 22

      by , 07-24-2019 at 07:30 PM
      I think I am outside? when I realize that I had a haircut appointment on the second of July that I completely forgot to go to. I briefly see my calendar (at Dadís?) and see it written on the second, along with the other stuff Iím doing this month. I think I missed it because thatís when we were in Portland, but itís still hard for me to believe that Iíd just miss an appointment. I realize that itís been a week or so since the second. I consider texting her but am not sure if sheíd even still want my business. Now I am considering growing my hair out. Dad is brushing his fingers through it, telling me that it naturally parts in the middle. I think Mom and Makayla also express that they like it longer, a bit excited at the prospect. I think about what it was like long, weighing the pros and cons. Itís already getting a bit long, so I think I decide Iím going to grow it out.
      Tags: hair, haircut
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    2. Monday, February 25

      by , 03-02-2019 at 08:40 PM
      I am at work and entering the fitting room. I am not alone either; at least four other people are also entering at the same time. I notice a fairly dirty looking guy in his 20s and his female companion. He has long and shaggy brown hair (or dreads) and baggy clothes, and she has dark hair and pants and a somewhat skimpy purple tank top. The guy, with a sort of detached fervor, starts grabbing anything in reach on the folding tables (I notice a folded dress shirt) like heís going to take them into the stall and steal them. I think he has not noticed that I work here. I say ďhey manĒ kind of casually, which startles him and causes him to look guilty and remorseful. I think he leaves now, and I start checking the stalls. Most have a floor completely obscured by tried on and tossed clothes. One contains a man passed out or sleeping on the floor and amongst the clothes. I donít even know what to do. Now I am helping ring up customers, and I notice the guy what was going to steal. He is actually buying a pair of black slacks.




      I am with Melissa in a bed. I think we are just cuddling and talking. Now out of nowhere it begins to snow. Almost immediately the roads are covered. (It looks like downtown, like the street parallel to the river and behind the movie theater). I offer to give her a ride wherever so she doesnít have to drive in it. I think itís out of the way or will create a problem with where the cars are, but I donít mind going out of my way. Now, I am driving us somewhere. I think Melissa says something about the speed, as if Iím going too slow. Right after, the car violently slides out and then corrects itself after a tense moment.




      (I think this one was part of another dream that I canít recall. It has a weird feeling to it). Iíve been watching a movie that is or is very similar to Hereditary. I have an image of Charlieís decapitated head in my mind. It looks more animated and like it has more skin on the face, around the eyelids and lip areas. I think there is some distinct, enigmatic, seminal plot to this movie that I canít stop thinking about.




      I am sitting at Melissaís kitchen table in the seat facing the sliding door. At least Carlos and one other family member is here. Theyíre talking about late puberty? (like in their early 20s). I lift my bare leg up so they can see the hair on it and say ďI havenít seen my legs since like fourth grade.Ē It elicits some chuckles. I then feel slightly self conscious about putting my bare foot on their table.
    3. Tuesday, February 19

      by , 02-22-2019 at 02:29 AM
      I am at some small event in some smaller event room. There are people from work here as well as Sage and maybe her boyfriend. I have come here with Makayla; I think it is somewhere in California. Makayla calls Mom to ask if we can stay here for dinner. I say, mostly to myself since sheís on the phone, that Mom could throw us a 20 and it would help. Mom says yes, inciting a subdued bout of excitement. I envision taking an Uber back just as a humorous scenario, mentally gawking at what it would cost if they even go that far. I am seated now, at the end of one of two tables that abuts the other. Against the wall and on smaller display tables are the beers on tap. Each actually looks like its own little machine - they range in appearance from slushee machines to small drink vending machines, etc, each with their own design for the beer within. Evelyn from work is looking at them all, very closely. I wasnít going to go up and look at them alone, so I take this opportunity. There are some fairly good options, but nothing amazing. I think I see the Sierra Nevada Torpedo. I think there is a porter and a hefeweizen, the hefe in what looks like a pineapple yellow pina colada machine. I think its name is slightly off - actually Heineken or something? I think I decide to pass on it because it seems like a bad imitation of the style. I think I end up with a glass of the Torpedo. Iím now seated again, across from Sage and maybe her boyfriend. The apparent host, a petite, bald, bespectacled man wearing a white apron around his waist, is coming around and jovially making sure everything and everyone is okay. Everyone seems to be uplifted by this quaint manís demeanor. He takes Sageís order, which is Ďspare porkí. I now see a plate of it in front of her, three or four generously sized slices of pork. He looks at me now, and I want the same thing, but Ďspare porkí sounds wrong, so I say instead Ďthe same thingí. I notice my drink is a few sips away from being empty. I want to order another while I have the service available, but I also donít want to ask for more while I still have some.




      I am working a wedding. I am standing outside and near the entrance gate to what seems to be a large, upscale country club. Everything seems spread out, showcasing the grassy, and in places marshy, land. It seems like a pleasant day. I am holding a fairly big gift bag - it is for the couple whom I just saw but now cannot find. I feel sort of out of place. I want to get this gift to them, but guests keep showing up, expecting me to direct them. A lifted, impossibly white truck approaches; the driver is impeccably clean cut and dressed in an effortlessly classy and flattering suit. Through his open window, he tells me that he likes my shoes. They are my new ones (that I bought at work). Iím also wearing dress pants and a tucked dress shirt. He now asks me where the Ďhalfway pointí is, and I hesitate. He asks again, kind of snootily, as if I should know right away. It makes me feel kind of stupid. I then recall an image of a white line on some asphalt, so I tell the man to continue on and he will see the halfway point marked with a white line, gesturing with my hands. To my left, I see the asphalt walkway meandering through and then becoming obscured by some tall grasses. I see men in suits walking with girls in dresses, all pastel colors, and it is idyllic. I now start walking, but I am not on any walkway. The ground is marshy; my feet start to sink enough to get the tops of my shoes wet. Beth has apparently been watching me and asks what Iím doing. I inwardly agree with her sentiment and start to come back. I still want to give them this gift though, so I start again, though this time I seem to be holding onto some kind of ledge and traversing with my feet also on some small lip of something more solid than the marsh. It all seems cramped and small and obscured by the foliage. *It is as Iím doing this that I hear my alarm go off.




      Mom is in my room and has apparently been going through my stuff, as she is holding up whatís left of a joint in a plastic bag that was hidden in my laundry basket. She seems really upset, mad, or disappointed. Iím not sure why; itís really not that big of a deal to me. Sheís also holding some new clothes she got for me. There are some tank tops on hangers and some red and blue underwear that look more like Speedos. I take them and hang them in the closet; they are a tight fit. I think Iím getting ready to go to class or work.




      I am in the bathroom with Melissa. I am naked at least from the waist down, and using some hair removal cream? on my pubic region. For whatever reason, I start rubbing it on my lower legs, until it starts to feel like thereís less hair (I didnít intend to remove the hair on my legs). I tell Melissa I just accidentally removed all my leg hair and she doesnít believe me. I rub my legs, feeling only skin and stubble.
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