IndigoRose

comment dream lucid

Failed WILD (light vibrations, I thought that nothing happened but I was probably dreaming about being in bed at that point or very shortly after).

I'm in bed. I get up and walk out of the room through a hallway. Something feels off. The movement - it's slightly slower and smoother. Am I dreaming? I raise my hand to do a nose plug RC but don't even finish it, the movement has a definite weird feel. I step into the room across from the bedroom where I slept and immediately know it isn't supposed to be there.
The room looks like a combination of my childhood bedroom and the bedroom in my in-laws' apartment.
What was I going to do? Trumps! And something else, but I can remember that later.

Trumps come from the Amber book series by Roger Zelazny. In the books, they are tarot cards used for communicating with the person in the picture and also for teleporting.
I've always loved Amber and came across the idea of using Trumps in one of FryingMan's posts. If I can get them into my dreams, it would be a neat tool for summoning DCs and for teleporting.

I try to get the cards out of my pocket. But I don't seem to have any easily accessible pockets. I remember the sweatpants that I wear IRL now - they have zippered pockets. I feel the zipper and unzip it. From inside, I pull out an old tissue.
I face a desk. There's a black phone on it, and music is playing. It's something modern, pop/techno/dance, mostly beats, I don't like it, but it's an original song and that's what gets my attention. I pick up the phone and say, "Play some rock." The music stops, but nothing new starts. "Classic rock," I specify. Nothing.
I leave the phone alone and return to the contents of my pockets. More pieces of tissue. A small piece of lined paper, as if cut from my DJ, but blank. Nothing more.
A DC enters the room. He wants to know what I'm doing with the phone. I pick it up again and say, "Play something." Now it works - the phone starts playing something techno-like again.
The DC walks to the other end of the room, where he joins another DC who was already there. I wonder what to do next. TOTM! I look around the room - the other DC is now just a little closer. I walk up to him and ask "What part of my subconscious do you represent?"
He looks at me in great surprise. "I don't know," he says, throwing up his hands. He turns to the other DC, but then turns back to me and says "Mrzoprs" with effort. I'm not sure I've understood correctly. "What?" "Mrzoprs," he repeats.

"Mrzoprs" is a nonsense word, but if I assume Czech etymology, it could be loosely translated as "regretboob" or "grumpyboob".

OK, enough. I have more goals to do.
I go out into a big atrium. My next goal needs me to fly. But my lucidity and concentration have dropped significantly and I'm having trouble getting airborne, as well as problems with my clothes getting in the way.
Then I get distracted by a friend who finds my attempts amusing.
Nothing else interesting happens.