• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




    View RSS Feed

    rshort1202

    1. Friday, July 26

      by , 08-03-2019 at 06:08 PM
      I am walking around downtown, and there seems to be an event going on. I walk into a smaller coffee shop, right behind a group of three girls about my age. They sort of spilt up in the line, so that I am in front of one of them. She is talking sort of excitedly about how she is going to get something with eight shots, as if her caffeine tolerance is just really high. I think one of the others orders and then they try to get me to go. I politely decline, asking if theyíre sure, since I thought they got here first. They coax me into going, so I step up to the wooden counter. The barista is kind and friendly, with dirty blond/brown hair and tan skin; she seems familiar from somewhere. I ask for an iced Americano with five shots instead of the four I think it usually comes with. She says sheís already got one started, holding out a larger sized cup thatís full, too full for my preference, of ice. When the finished drink comes out, I take it over to a wooden bench along the wall opposite the buildingís front wall and window. The evening light shines golden, drenching the place in a peaceful, languid haze. There are a few others sitting around, quietly keeping to themselves. There is a very laid back vibe, either caused by or enhanced by the lighting. I notice the girl who wanted eight shots is seated to my left, sitting lengthwise with the bench, her knees bent and feet up. She is wearing shorter black athletic shorts and is on her phone. She has two smaller bags on the bench, one placed on top of the other. They start to tilt and then the top one completely falls off, taking the other partially with it. I try but fail to get her attention. Now, I consider trying to talk to her or the other two also, but I donít really want to bother them, as they donít need anyone to talk to. Iím not sure what Iím going to do now, except maybe sit here for a while.
    2. Sunday, July 14

      by , 07-24-2019 at 07:18 PM
      I am walking along the sidewalk through what seems like midtown closer to downtown, I think on my way to work. There is a brick building that appears to be a neat looking bookstore through the window. I decide to go in. Inside, it seems like mostly a large, square area with tall, wooden bookshelves. Many books seem to be facing out, their covers on display. Iím surprised and delighted by the selection of books about dreams, spirituality, etc. I am also holding a book that I think Iím returning. I make my way to the counter to wait. The apparent manager is an older middle aged lady that is currently talking with another woman or two. She gives the impression of being very kind and homey. She also has not noticed me or has disregarded me, but I find it hard to fault her as she seems to be in an engaged conversation with the other two. I check my phone for the time (:55?) and know I have to get going. I think Iíll have to come back sometime later.
      Categories
      Uncategorized
    3. Sunday, July 7

      by , 07-07-2019 at 05:11 PM
      I am walking through what seems like a shopping mall. The place is seemingly endless, ornate, intricate, and labyrinthine. Each shop is open to the main walkway and exquisitely decorated; I see very little wall space anywhere. They all seem amazing and alluring and like I could get lost in each. Just as well, the building itself has alcoves, inclines, probably stairs, and myriad options of pathways. I will take a route that piques my interest, getting drawn in and lost along the way, though I try to remember the way I came so I can go back and see what else I wanted to. I feel I will never see it all.
    4. Friday, March 22

      by , 03-27-2019 at 06:16 PM
      I am with Melissa, Dad, and Scottie. Iím pretty sure weíre going somewhere, but right now, we are sitting at a picnic style table right adjacent to a street intersection. Dad has a store bought card for Scottie, and I have made a card for Melissa. It is smaller and looks like a regular card except for its left side being the shape of half of a heart. Itís come out wrong though - it opens upside down or something like that. Scottie comments nicely on our bringing cards. I notice she is wearing a light lime green hoodie. The front is full of a list of Ďantií somethings in a white and all caps font; I notice ĎANTITRUMPí towards the bottom and the hoodieís pocket. I think about how supporters would take offense to this, yet nonchalantly be Ďantií many things. Iím now walking along a sidewalk, I think with just Dad and Melissa or Dad and Makayla. This neighborhood is not too far off the main road, yet it still feels removed. It feels like midtown/oldtown. The houses are smaller (some are two stories though, I think) and close to this street and to each other. The look somewhat whimsical. I notice an address in number plaques on the houseís wall - 5150 or something like that. I either think or say that I like this neighborhood. We now end up at the bottom of a long hill with a place sprawled across it. The long house/building atop is an off white. There are tall and droopy trees and an older cement pathway winding up the hill. There is a black man sitting outside somewhere here, rambling about something. I notice a few chains with hooks on their ends hanging down from something (the trees probably?). I know that theyíre for musicians to attach to when they play. I think I get an image of that scene in my head. I think they swing on them. In fact, the man starts rambling about this. I grab onto one as I ascend this hill and let it go when I reach the top. It mustíve shortened or something, as it doesnít swing back and hit me. I imagine what itíd be like or feel like if it did. There are circular patio tables and their steels chairs placed all around. The rest of it seems to be a pretty empty cement plaza. I think this place is called The Project, and I remember coming here a while ago and liking it. I am now by another house. This house also has a large grassy area and patio tables. There is an absolute plethora of tables though - I canít even imagine that many people being here at once. I enter the house, following Lindsey. There is a long closet on the entrywayís left. It is open or partially open, allowing me to see a row of hanging coats. There is a grey and a green one; the rest look like duplicates of either, possibly just in another size. I wonder why. Lindsey sees me looking, and it is slightly awkward for a moment. Weíre back outside now, in the back or side yard. I think I comment on all the tables. It sort of reminds me of an Alice in Wonderland type garden party. She and I each drag a chair a ways out onto the vast and lush lawn. She sits and is going to trim her pubic hair, I think with scissors. I think sheís wearing a skirt that she can lift high enough. I can see the very tops of her thighs, but not much else. She asks me to go get/do something, trying to get me to leave so she can be alone. I know what sheís doing, but oblige anyway by joining a blond kid that is running around. He starts to race, and I find myself unable to run as fast as him. I think it must be because Iím not even trying my hardest. I see the Dots game (that Iíve been playing on my phone) is being played in the distance, like itís projected onto the sky or something. It seems like dusk or twilight.




      I am in what looks like a cross between a warehouse and Winco aisle. I am with some others that I think are movie characters but that I know? We are slowly making our way down the aisle, punching packages of soda cans as we go. I punch one repeatedly and it will not break open, so I take out my pocket knife and dramatically slit the wrapping open. One of the guys is by me when I do so and for some reason derives great joy from it. It is somehow like an idyllic scene from a movie. I remark that 80s movies are really good, that 90s movies are okay too, but not as good. It feels like I/we have just been in a few 80s movies. These others agree with my sentiment. We are now further into this building and sitting around a square and fairly tall table. Two of the others are Ashley M from work and McKenzie Retzer. McKenzie is in very small shorts and a tank top. She is sweaty and lifting her arms to check for a pattern/ring of deodorant stain. She has some specific term for it. I can feel sweat all over my body as well, and I check for the same. I think I do have it but canít see it. Ashley, what is to my right, gives me two barbell weights. I sort of fuck around with them and then start lifting one straight away from my body on my right. She tells me my arms are strong. I am conscious/self conscious of being observed (by her and myself). I say that they used to be, which she repeats sarcastically/rhetorically. McKenzie tells me Iím scheduled for another workout next Saturday. I tell her Iím glad she signs me up for things or else Iíd never do anything.
    5. Wednesday, February 27

      by , 03-04-2019 at 09:26 PM
      I am walking through a city. This city looks like downtown but is supposed to be NYC I think. Iím thinking that it looks familiar and then sure enough, I see a ĎLibbyí street. Now, Mom and Makayla are with me and weíre in an area that seems a little less congested. I donít see any people, and I hadnít earlier either. The only person we pass is a thin guy who is walking slowly and looks a little tweaked out. Heís muttering to himself and I think also hissing. I pick up a stray, sharp rock just in case. He ends up walking right behind us and then talking to me. Heís pretty incoherent, but also threatening enough to where I slam the rock against his forehead twice. It doesnít look like it made a mark or an effect. The guy just seems totally out of it.
      Categories
      Uncategorized
    6. Sunday, January 20

      by , 02-02-2019 at 11:59 PM
      I am walking along a fairly busy sidewalk when a larger black man wearing grey sweatpants and a darker sweatshirt starts to come up to me, asking for spare change. I sort of feel like I have to oblige, but instead of giving him some, I ask if heís hungry and tell him to come with me. I kind of get the impression that he just wanted the money instead. He seems quiet and despondent. I ask what heís hungry for, and he mutters Ďchickení. I start to go to a McDonaldís because I know thereís one close. When we get there, he gravitates towards a black lady about his age (late 30s?) who also appears homeless. They start talking, and Iím pretty sure I leave because heís no longer paying attention to me.




      I am parking in what looks like the Beer Nv parking lot. I back into one of the staggered spaces, noticing a truck in one of the spaces behind me taking up almost most of its space. When I get out, I see a thin layer of snow or frost and also that Iíve backed in perfectly. I can see that the car is equidistant from each side, as well as the front and back. I see a woman walking around, tapping kind of forcefully on cars. She is checking them for something as if sheís some kind of authority. There are others here; they comment on her lack of uniform or identification. The communal fervor bolsters assurance, but a sense of just what to do about it is still lacking. I am now sitting in my car, and sheís trying to talk to me through the closed window. I ask her for identification and she ignores it. I think sheís slightly irked that I leave my window up but knows she canít do anything about it. I think sheís wearing black cargo pants and a dark/black sweatshirt. I simply press my license up to the window. There are some papers on the passenger seat, receipts and other car care records. One of them is a receipt for gas I just got; I press it up to the window facetiously.
      Categories
      Uncategorized
    7. Monday, June 18

      by , 08-09-2018 at 03:20 AM
      I am in some room that is fairly large and open feeling. Iím not sure if itís a house or hotel, but it feels like a living room. It seems like one wall is a climbing wall or climbing wall with no holds on it yet [*As I write this, I remember the John Mellencamp concert movie that was on TV last night and the large concrete wall behind the stage. I was trying to figure out if it was indoors or outdoors]. From the top of a darker, wooden dresser, I retrieve a Scrabble box that is propped up almost conspicuously. I am pretty certain this was not here before when I was looking for it. A ghost and Melissa both cross my mind as culprits. I bring it down and start setting it up, its edge nicely parallel with the wall. The pieces are few (I think many are missing) and are red and green, mostly translucent beads. I am going to play by myself. I am texting Melissa, and she tells me I made her day a few times, but also that sheís drunk. I think it actually reads Ďdunkí and contains more typos. I ask what she had, and she tells me her neighbor got someone trashed, then brought over white wine. Again the message is replete with typos. I ask how much she had, and she tells me a few glasses. I am not super thrilled with her being drunk, but I realize that is irrational and find it understandable. I think I was considering asking her to hang out tonight, but itís getting pretty late - 9:38?


      I am walking outside, in an area that looks like the Bartley Ranch/Anderson Park area. The grasses are lush and green, accentuated by the pristine evening Summer air. A train track leads through here, straight on, seemingly not that far and apparently dead-ending. I think I am following it. I call Mom to tell her about this spot. As Iím looking at the track now, it seems further away and also like a road, only because I see cars driving on each side of it. Thereís a white truck moving slowly, and I? pass it. I am now walking again and passing some houses that seem smaller, wooden, and close together (like in V.C. though slightly reminiscent of San Fran, probably because I was just there. Passing the slow truck is surely from driving there and back, too). Outside of a house on its small porch is Maxís mom as well as what must be his older sister. I think we see each other, and I think they may say something, but brush the thought aside. As Iím just about to pass them though, the girl asks if Iíd like to buy a lemonade for $1o. The mom tells me it [the profits] is for them to buy movies and two other things. I hesitate, and tell them maybe on my way back. Iím thinking Iíll be walking the dogs back? so I wonít have to buy any. They seem to be okay with this reply. I think $10 is too much and am not sure I support them selling that in order to buy those things.
    8. Monday, June 11

      by , 07-21-2018 at 08:56 PM
      I am outside somewhere that looks very familiar - very similar to Frenchmans. There are three lines of people, with about 20 or less in the largest line. I get into the ĎLovebugí line and none of the people my age in it look familiar. Someone clarifies that we have Ďmoved upí to Fireflies, so I move over. The lines now proceed up a moderate hill on an old, overgrown dirt road. I am wearing pants and long socks. The socks are kind of annoying on my ankles and the pants are hot and not giving me as much flexibility as Iíd like. Someone walking with me makes a comment about them taking us on a strenuous walk. I donít think itís bad, but as I look at the incline and overgrowth, I could see how it would be for someone not used to it. Weíre now reaching a crest in the hill and a building up here. I end up in this building - a bar and grill or something - with Dad. Weíre seated at a table close to the corner and the bar, and weíre going to try a beer here. A lady comes over, I think we need a little longer, then it takes a while for her to come back. Looking out the window, I think about how thereís still a little ways to go. I am now back outside and walking. Iím with Jon, and weíre on more flat but forested terrain. It is greener and almost more inviting. The air is cooler and it is more dim and not as exposed. There is also a small river up here. I think there may also be a house, as Jon is saying and keeps saying something about ĎJimí. He also keeps saying something about a spider (the image in my head is a large, black one, maybe a black widow). There are multiple wooden bridges across this river as we move onward. They are dark wood pieces placed parallel with the river, creating a flat bridge with supports every few pieces. When I watch Jon walk over some of them, the pieces move, swiveling, like a bead on a necklace. Heís been fine so far, but when he jumps onto one of the bridges, quite a ways from the bank, the pieces give way, causing his legs to slip through and him to be caught on one of the supports. He does have a grasp, but appears mostly stuck. I end up by him (in the water?) and am going to help him up. He places a small, circular, water-logged piece of meat onto the wood and then proceeds to clamber out of the water that seems turgid and turbulent yet somehow still.


      I am outside somewhere that seems like a college campus or some other communal area. It seems slightly dim out. I have a pack of cigarettes and am smoking one. Others here are doing the same. I hold it between my middle and index fingers, noticing that everyone else does too. I think Niki is here. This carton is overly large and light blue. The inside slides open, revealing the cigarettes that also seem too large and like theyíre made of plastic. I smoke one down, self conscious of my aggressive in and exhales, and want another, ashamedly. I think I smoked it too far? and it felt like the soft plastic piece sort of broke off when I got to the end. I think I now go somewhere with Niki - though it feels not as if weíre going together - but simply to the same place at the same time. Chelsea is here. It is brought up how sheís all but kicked a heroin habit, but is about to take it up again. We try to dissuade her, but she is blank, resolute, inconsolable. It is brought up where she would find the substance, and they say you need only follow this street. My gaze follows it down. Itís well known that itís not the best place, and must be known for a prevalence of the drug. I think itís residential, though it seems dirty and desolate out here.


      I am outside and moving through some dirt trail between houses in a fairly rural neighborhood (almost like Dadís). It seems I cover a lot of ground too quickly, almost like Iím watching it happen, instead of actually walking or running. I come to a straight-away that ends in a left turn that dead ends at the side of a house. On top of the path is a dilapidated train track. It follows the straight-away but is a few feet/a bodyís height off the ground when it rounds the corner. I wonder how I am going to move along this, as it twists right before the house and may be incomplete in a section. The wall that the track runs into is a neutral color (light blue/grey?) and is slightly aged and worn and bare except for one large window. Through the window I see a partially drawn curtain and two chairs. I can hear people moving about talking inside, and these people are moving out of this house. Ití already pretty bare, but I start moving cups and other everyday items off a shelf. I think the people here donít know that I am here? I now start moving stacks of DVDs (the ones we have at Momís, Iím pretty sure).



      Analysis:

      Later today, I go on a walk with Mom, on which we seem to come to some realizations about the first and third dreams from last night. What prompts these realizations is the sighting of a small bridge being constructed in a front yard. I find this significant, as the bridge as of yet only consists of the support pieces. I liken this to the recounting of my dream bridge and its support pieces and other swiveling pieces. I tell Mom that this dream involved multiple bridges over water and Jon jumping onto one, only to become stuck and in need of my assistance. I find it necessary to detail the background to this dream having any significance, that being me viewing the movie Hereditary on Saturday night and consequently contemplating a sťance of my own with a plausible intention being contact with Opa. mom and I agree on the bridges, water, Jon, and my helping Jon all being symbolic in strict relation to Opa and his passing. Mom is the one what mentions that Jon was the one not present and therefore behind in coping with the situation. I seem to be helping Jon in this process and to me it seems to be because of my recent inclinations towards the idea of performing a sťance to contact Opa. i believe the bridges are direct symbols of the Ďbridgeí to the Ďother sideí. As I write this I begin to experience chills when contemplating the Ďturgid and turbulent yet somehow stillĒ water, probably because it represents what the symbolic bridge physically bridges. Is probably significant that Jon surmounts the bridge. I am unsure of the piece of meat, as well as any meanings ĎJimís houseí. During a pause in writing this, currently being unsure of the presence of ĎJimí and the spider, I go to the garage. Kneeling down by the fridge (which is right where the Black Widow used to be) I get a pre-recorded phone call in which the voice tells me his name is Jim. i immediately think itís odd that itís a Jim, but it isnít until Iím recounting to Mom that I got a phone call from a Jim that it hits me that it was right by where we had the black widow, the one from the dream. Later on, still unfinished with this analysis, I text Kat telling her briefly what happened and asking if sheís had anything happen that has to do with Opa. She tells me a little while ago she had a dream of him in a silver Subaru, then she mentions how he is probably wishing he couldíve been at the graduation. It then hits me that the very beginning of the dream is probably a representation of the graduation. In it, I say Ďmoved upí, which directly relates to Opa, while the whole scene can stand for Makaylaís graduation. As of now, it seems that the annoyance of my long socks and pants is the only part without apparent symbolism. As Mom and I started discussing the bridges, I realized that the train track in the third dream bears much resemblance to this image of a track or some sort of conveyance with missing or otherwise inoperable pieces. I believe this represents the contact or attempt at contact with Opa. The train tracks are an overt reference to Opaís involvement with the V&T as well as a visual metaphor. The neighborhood is significant as well. I also feel that the tracks dead-ending in the house seems to be significant, as the house is another symbol for Opa or for the Ďother sideí. The window conveys pretty much the same meaning, and the two empty chairs do not feel arbitrary. Mom mentions the two chairs that were always in Opa and Omaís living room, and though that is true, the chairs in this dream were wooden and straight-backed, facing each other slightly, seemingly symbolizing conversation. I think it is symbolic that I never really see the people but only hear them (an image of the Ďspirit worldí or the impression of people contacting it) and also that they are moving out of this house. After all of this, I am left with the feeling that these dreams did not by chance occur so noteworthy and significant-seeming directly after my inclination towards conducting a seance. I with impressed with their impression, considering my lack of detailed dreams for quite a while, and believe that alone makes them significant. And then the sighting of the partially constructed bridge was the conduit for the deeper, real meaning. Every association produced varying levels of chills, which is enough for me to know that I have found the dreamís real Ďmeaningí. I believe the dreams were some spiritual connection to Opa or an affirmation towards the idea of contact, with the same feeling of knowing I had about the dream in which he came into Starbucks when I was working, though not quite as understated.
    9. Friday, June 1

      by , 06-04-2018 at 04:37 AM
      I am on a trip or something with Dad, but we donít feel to be too far from home. Weíre outside, in an area that really reminds me of the Anderson Park area by Momís. Itís a neighborhood area, but with dirt trails and natural/small farm areas. I am seeing the area from on a map and zoom onto a street up ahead. I want to go to the end of this straight dirt trail, turn left, and onto the short dead-end street. Either we are there or I am seeing it from a satellite view on the map, but I see the few houses. They are fairly close together, though separated by leafy trees. Their brighter colors coupled with the area, the trees, and the sunlight filtering in creates a very pretty scene. Dad and I are walking and come to a pool of water about 15 feet or less across our path. I think itís shallow enough to walk through. I stop to take pictures of the clouds, trees, and sky that are being reflected in the calm layer of water.