• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    rshort1202

    1. Tuesday, December 29

      by , 01-12-2021 at 06:50 AM
      I am with Dad and Makayla, trying to find a hotel room. I think the number includes 2,6, and 4? It seems we are walking through a hotel building, but it also looks like a large house, with the entrance to each room looking like a doorway. At times it seems weíre in a different hotel, or maybe itís just that the theme has changed. Watching the room numbers as we go, we come up to where ours should be but is not. We comment how this makes no sense. Now weíre in a portion that looks more like a typical hotel, and I think Makayla spots our room. The door is open and reveals a room I didnít really expect. It is very small for a hotel room, and three beds of varying sizes are taking up just about all of the floor space. There is a ledge on the wall with a row of thin-curtained windows. They seem to be lightly illuminated from behind the curtains. The beds are topped with very thick and bohemian-patterned comforters that help give the space a comfy feel (it also reminds me of the Enchanted Forest in Placerville). I see a door that must be to the bathroom and wonder if it is nice. Iím also initially worried about getting good sleep with the beds being so close together. We all settle onto a bed, and I say something like ĎI would love to do mushrooms here.í Dad looks disappointed/irritated, but Makayla seems to agree.
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    2. Tuesday, March 31

      by , 04-13-2020 at 12:32 AM
      I am walking through what looks like Dadís neighborhood (maybe on one of the higher streets, like Virginia Foothills). I run into Kat and she ends up walking with me. It is near sunset and some of the lower and plumper clouds are getting some color. The rest are smaller and almost evenly spaced, bright white against the blue. I look directly up and notice a glowing sliver of the moon. Itís all very pretty. Kat mentions the sky too, saying sheís grateful for Emma for getting her to pay more attention to it, and that she wants to see it more often. I take some pictures of it as we walk. We end up at her house. I think the garage door is open, and I can tell by the way sheís talking that she has intentions to leave now. Before she does, I somewhat bluntly mention how I want to stop drinking. This seems to pique her interest, and she talks to me about it. I tell her I feel like quitting altogether but am not sure if I should stick with moderation. She pulls a little red champagne flute from somewhere and hands it to me, saying I could use it for moderation. I look at it and its almost grimy looking opaque sides, imagining how it might hold a small serving. I kind of like the idea and think I might take it, but then change my mind. I say that I want it to be a mindset thing and not something like this. Now, Chelsea has shown up, I think in a car. She stands behind us and when she sees me she recognizes me but thinks Iím someone else. I tell her no and think it slightly odd that she wouldnít remember me. I am now walking back, now either on a dirt road or a road surrounded by dirt and small hills. Thereís a small stream of water running down this slope, through the soil and grasses. I follow it and see where it meets another stream on an opposing slope, turning to one and running downwards. I look out to my left and notice a hill where water appears to be coming from. Thereís a tiny canyon carved into the soft looking dark brown soil, and I imagine walking through it. I am walking right by where the streams meet, doing okay with stepping on the sturdier patches of soil and grasses. Most of it is still soft and itís hard to tell what will give, so I end up getting both of my shoes wet and muddy. I end up back home, rinsing and scrubbing them. I put them out to dry even though itís pretty overcast.




      Iíve gotten an email from the new girl at work (itís not actually the girl who is supposed to start. I think I see a profile picture on the email or something and itís an unfamiliar heavyset white girl). Sheís asking about me not being there for a shift, but Iím pretty sure I havenít been scheduled. I think Iíve been using time off. She sounds more like a manager than a coworker and kind of annoying. After the text there are a few pictures of a hotel room - I think it must be a work thing. The hotel seems nice and also very familiar. I think I must have stayed there before. I think it looks more impressive than it actually is. A picture of the shower shows the floor of small, dark pebbles and the opposing stainless steel shower heads. Now, I am in the hotel. It looks like someone had just been here but tidied a bit before leaving, so I guess I just missed her. Thereís a full looking black garbage bag in the abnormally large space adjacent to the toilet. The toilet itself actually has a garbage bag around it, somehow from the ground up. I adjust the opening of the bag so as to be able to use the toilet.




      I am somewhere with the family. Weíre in a plain, rectangular building that is for something like customs or passports or photos (something that we have to do together as a family). I notice quite a few other families here too, I think seated at tables. Whatever weíre doing here, the personale is being very aggressive with us. They are making us do tasks or challenges that seemed to be designed to result only in failure. A younger guy, I think in a uniform, tries to handcuff me but only gets one finger. He notices, his facial expression betraying his embarrassment, and tries again. The same happens, though he doesnít notice this time. He tells me to now ďclap above your head and find some shade.Ē I think he also holds me down to ensure failure. Still, I succeed in clapping above my head, slightly satisfied with defying his expectation of failure. Iím not sure about the shade part though. These things go on for a while longer. When we are done, Iím thinking about how Iím going to write to someone about how atrociously we were treated.




      From a third person perspective I am seeing a high rise building (a hotel) that stands alone on a sprawling fine sand beach. The building seems somewhat modern and is mostly a tower but with some structural embellishments at the base. It is also way too near the water and, in fact, there is currently water submerging the first few floors. I think thereís something about the occupants just staying inside when it floods, though that seems counter intuitive. Someone is interviewing a lone, blond man maybe in his late 20s. He seems foreign, probably European, though he is speaking more articulately than most native speakers. I think heís talking about the structural design and why it is flooding.
    3. Sunday, June 9

      by , 06-27-2019 at 08:54 PM
      I am at 10 Torr for a celebration for one of the cousinís graduation. This place looks similar, but not exactly the same. It seems to be a little smaller and a bit more homey. Itís still a square room but has more of a kitchen vibe due to the counter and the dťcor. It also seems to be wrapping up; Aly is behind the counter, putting things away. It seems like nobody is left at this point. I was going to try one more drink, but Iíll be fine without it. Mom is sitting with me at the counter. It looks like itís going to be closed now, but then a 20-something year old guy shows up behind the bar. It seems theyíre now open or regular business. Two girls, maybe in their late 20s or early 30s, are already taking a seat at the bar. The guy looks to them, looking a little disheveled. The girl closer to me starts ordering something with orange/grapefruit juice, but the girl by her completely cuts her off, ordering something with the same juice but a little more specific. The guy doesnít seem to care; he lets her finish and then turns to the first girl to let her finish. The first girl waits a moment and then makes a snide comment to the other. The guy is now looking to us. I notice two small, empty glasses on the counter in front of us, and it worries me for a moment, making me think for some reason that Mom might have a drink. I ask for Ďjust a coffee liqueur and vodkaí, oddly self conscious of my voice. Mom orders something kind of specific that Iíve never heard of; it sounds like some kind of mock tail. The drinks come out quickly, and it looks like theyíre in small white bowls and not glasses. Momís looks like a strawberry ice cream or really frothy strawberry milk topped with whipped cream and a slice of banana. Mine looks like it has cream in it and then it tastes like it does too. When the guy comes back over I assertively but kindly tell him what it was supposed to be, and he fixes it. I now try Momí, and it does seem nonalcoholic. Her face looks a little sad to me. Melissa has been waiting in a car outside, and Iíve been texting her. Sheís being kind of sassy. Iím not sure why sheís just been waiting out there. I look outside and briefly see her and it looks like sheís changed into a pajama shirt.



      (fragment) I am outside and climbing/ scrambling around on some granite boulders all together and overlapping one another. I hear Kat? narrating like Jon (or Luke Larson?) is climbing, though itís definitely just me here. She is sort of talking it up and pointing out the danger of the boulders being right behind you. I am in street shoes and sort of pulling on some holds and playing with different moves. The grainy holds are pretty decent and slightly chalked. I donít think itís even completely vertical, and I donít think itís all that hard. I think the boulder behind you is close enough that you could put out a leg or arm and stop yourself before you would fall into it. This small boulder field slowly turns into the top of a backyard. Iím standing on top of the smaller boulders with Kat, looking toward the house. There is a small, neat lawn and a few neat trees nearer the house. The house also gives the impression of being neat.



      (fragment) I am at work with Laynie and a small group has done a grab and run out of the door 18 emergency exit. We catch up with them in the stairwell. Itís about 3-4 teens or preteens. One of the girls is reminiscent of the blond 13 year old girl that was taking pictures of herself doing gang signs. She sort of talks back, but ultimately we are in control. We are being hard on them but they seem to not get it. I think we have them out in the parking lot.



      (fragment) Iím with Scott and Tyson? downtown when they see something going on through a hotel room. We are going to go in to see whatís going on. These hotel rooms seem to be in an overpass that we are walking under. I donít like not being able to see and not really know whatís going on. I think it has to do with a shooting or someone with a gun.
    4. Thursday, March 28

      by , 03-30-2019 at 06:27 PM
      I am outside somewhere with whom I am pretty sure is Scott from work. The area looks like stereotypical Nevada scenery - gentle hills, dirt, and sagebrush. I am chewing on what seems to be a few tiny pieces of bone, separating any meat left on them. As I listen to Scott talk, I spit the pieces completely devoid of meat. He is telling me about Nathanielís girlfriend and how she goes somewhere or has access to somewhere (due to wealth, family, etc.). Weíre apparently going to use her connections to go there as well. I picture her, think about telling him I know her, then tell him ďKevin, I mean Nathaniel, is one of my old best friends.Ē




      I am with one or two employees at work (it is not really work, but seems more like a multiple level shopping center or hotel). I think Hunter is one of them. Weíre each carrying a stack of jeans and when we walk past a man one of us gets the idea to say something that makes it sound like weíre trying to steal these. The man falls for it and starts following us. We end up down on the ground floor and outside or in an outdoor entryway area, right outside the elevator. I think weíve left the jeans elsewhere, and the man is gone too. Iím looking at the gap between the elevator and the floor that is exposed by the open doors. I shine my phoneís flashlight into it, tentatively, afraid of dropping my phone down it. I contemplate what happens to things that are dropped down there. I canít see the bottom.
    5. Saturday, January 26

      by , 02-12-2019 at 04:46 AM
      I am at work, in the clearance section. Two or three guys are browsing together over here; one of them approaches me, holding a pure white men's jumpsuit, saying heís looking for a different size. I quickly scan all of the hanging white items as well as the single rack thatís on the wall by the jeans. I come back over to tell him that I didnít find any, when we see a folded, white dress shirt on the cream white and fairly empty shelf in front of us at shoulder height. I casually offer it as a possible substitute. He unfolds it to find out that itís actually a tuxedo vest. He says something like Ďoh nice, a vest,í like it would actually work for him. As he is unfamiliar and possessing of a sort of expressionless face, I canít tell if heís being serious or if heís fucking with me. I now unfold another, and this one is actually a dress shirt. Itís close to a jumpsuit in only the material - itís heavier, like a broadcloth, also a cream white. This guy is actually happy with it and is going to get it. After they have left, I end up putting some items in the clearance next to the kids shoes. The shoes are on a torso-high display and looking pretty disheveled. There are way more things in this section than in real life. I start walking somewhere else, and the whole place is different and much larger than in real life. It seems more open; thereís a sort of skywalk to another part of the mall (or casino? - it feels a little like a casino). Over by it, I briefly help a Hispanic man look for something before I go to do something else. I end up over by the suits fitting room. Thereís a computer desk at the wall opposing the opening at which sits Evelyn. I have the impression that someoneís been trying to call me on this radio, but Iím not entirely sure. I ask Evelyn if they have, and she says yes. Someone (the lady at work with sort of darker skin and frizzy hair who I think is a supervisor and whose name Iím not sure of) starts walking over to me, saying that I didnít really help my customer if I didnít completely follow through (referencing the Hispanic man). She directs our attention to the man who is standing on the skywalk, arms crossed, but not in an unpleasant way. Heís wearing a plum colored long sleeve with a vest over it, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He seems dependent on the help, not in a co-dependent way, but more like he is turning the trust over to the employee. I tell this supervisor sorry, I was helping someone else and so my radio was down, slowly adjusting the volume up as I speak. I do feel poorly for leaving him and for not hearing the radio. I tell her I know I was helping him, but I forget what for, and ask if she knows. I genuinely am trying to remember. Thereís another employee too, and they look slightly incredulous. I canít tell if they find it funny or think Iím stupid or both. At one point, someone was ridiculing me for something, and it irritated me enough that I considered bringing it up to someone higher up. Anyway, I attempt to make it right and start walking over to the man. There is a rush of people moving in both directions, causing me to lose sight of him. I reach the top of the incline on this skywalk so I can survey it all the way to the bottom, but he is nowhere to be found. I double back and still, nothing. Iím by an elevator now; it is closing, so I get the notion to jump into it while I can. Literally jumping forward into it, the doors brush me on each side before closing on my JCP key lanyard trailing behind me. I pull it out and turn around to be greeted by two Hispanic men. They both seem genial and good-natured, and they both seem to think my jumping into this elevator was somewhat funny if not unexpected. One of them is shorter and more portly; I think he has a mustache. I dryly say either ďthat was closeĒ or ďjust barely made it.Ē They begin talking to me, slipping into Spanish. It is too fluent for me to understand most of it. I think on a different floor now, I see the door closing. It is closing on a chubby white family with a daughter. I donít know why we havenít let them on, so I am awkwardly diverting my glance. Doors closed now, we need to choose a floor. They tell me Ďtresí and I go to press 3 but mistakenly press something else. I canít entirely read the numbers on the round, silver buttons. For whatever reason, I end up just pressing all of them, the off white light illuminating behind each in succession downwards. I think the elevator is going to the highest floor first. It ascends, and part of the wall must be glass, because I can see what looks like the Atlantis casino outside the elevator. [As in looking into the Atlantis (from within) from the elevator, not as in looking out at the Atlantis]. I think the men now exit and I continue up one more floor. The doors open, revealing a floor that appears to be one huge hot tub. Thereís a low ceiling and dim but colored (blue?) lighting that plays on what is either bubbles or an excess of foam. Thereís an unassuming swim up bar, and I think a pool up above it. A young boy climbs up and over the bar counter to get to it. I donít think Iím in the water, but I am conscious of its proximity to my clothes and my radio. I start to think about staying here and using the hot tub, imagining sneaking onto the hotel room floor to find a towel from a room being serviced or the service cart itself. I wonder if anyone at work would notice my prolonged absence, but figure itís a large place so maybe not.