Recent DJ Posts

1. i was in a weird city, somewhere abroad, dont know where. but it was always dark. no sun. And there was war, between some yellow robots and people. when the war outraged i had an eagle vision from the top.. i saw the battlefield. The robots were yellow and dirty, big as scycrapers. but the city had a lot of guardtowers. There was shooting from everywhere. Somehow my eaglevision stopped on the top of one skyscraper, and i was there watching the battle. Humans were shoothing good, but those robots were regenerating because of a small bettlebug next to them. I said shoot the beetle. And they listened. The small beetle transformed in to even bigger robot.. It was as tall as the building i was on. It looked at me and said. "do you want to fly??" I was staring at the robot, and than a woman next to me.. said .. "get ready" and the whole city started to shift. Like it was alive.. Buildings were getting smaller and bigger.. everything changed. the people were transformed into pictures.. and when the city stopped to shift.. all the pictures became people again. Robots were gone.. and mostly people did not recall what has just happened. I went back to my hostel.. and administrator asked me for a name. And i didnt know it. I only knew that my lastname is smith. I couldnt recall my name. And i asked the admin.. if everyday is the same.. and he said yes.

2. I was on the move.. i had to go somewhere with 2 of my friends with my car.. I passed 3 people. .when i was getting to my car. 2 guys and 1 woman. Someone said to me.. be aware of that woman, she is dangerous and evil. Those 2 guys drove away.. and only she was left. I dont know how i got into conversation with her.. but she looked so weird, dead! she was pale as a wall and dressed in black.. and her energy around was like she is dead. She introduce herself.. and i said. No that is not your name.. it cannot be. She said that she is telling the truth. I walk to her table pick some documents up. She tried to stop me.. but she couldnt. THere was some document with her picture. ANd it was true. She was who she said she was. I said. .are you dead? And she said no. But i look like that and i cannot help myself. She showed me the way to my car.. and in between i was telling her about a girl that actually look like her and she is alive. But she is wearing so much makeup that you could tear it off like a wallpaper from her face.. And than we came to the car. It was blocked by other cars.. I coudnt get out. We thought we have find a way but we didnt know how to get to there. it was some black doors leading to freedom. We walked to find a way.. we came into one hotel.. and a guy is running towards me.. and he stoped me. Where are you going he said. I answered i need to find that black door. He laughed and said the first turn left.. between the pillars.. We walked there and that was a hotel room for not rich people. It looked like a hospital.. a really loooong bunk bed.. people were lying next to each other for like 50m.. one next to another.. The floor was wooden, squeakey and it moved up and down. We came to next room which was almost empty.. and it was on the roof of the hotel. we saw the black door leading out.. And a friend said. ok no problem we can get out.. you know how to right? and i was not really sure if i know the way out. I mean.. the path was unlogical. but anyway it was the exit!

Dream 1:

I can't remember much of it, but we were going on a ski trip from our house with Bill Eddy, my friend's father, and we were having a lot of trouble getting our shit together. I argued with my brother quite violently at one point, and I may have attempted to choke him. This is very disconcerting to me.

Dream 2:

Churchball, for those of you who don't know, is basically basketball with some very slight rule alterations and played casually by members of the LDS Church. It can get pretty serious depending on where you go, even so far as stake-wide tournaments on Saturdays. In my dreams, I wasn't playing churchball, but I was playing basketball and it was in the gym of the church. I'm pretty sure our coach was Will Smith. On the field there were these spots with numbers on them. The first number was the row it was in, and the second number the column. So, the number 74 spot would be row 7, column 4. One of the members on our team ordered each of us onto a spot, and should the ball come to or near our spot, it was our responsibility to deal with it, like volleyball. I was placed in a few critical places and I failed my job every time. I've never been good at basketball.

After a while, I went into a small room on the back of the gym. In there was Conan O'Brien. He asked me a few questions about ex-Mormons and skiing and whatnot.

Dream of: 11 January 2014 "Making Up Stories"



surrounded by lies, preach the truth

My father is giving a party at the Gay Street House (a stately Victorian house in Portsmouth, Ohio in which my father lived from 1964 to 1997). About twenty people are present in the large living room (the floor plan is somewhat different from normal). One bottle of liquor is sitting on a table, but no one seems to be drinking. That seems strange because I think most people would have come to the party because liquor would be abundant. Its almost six o'clock and I have the feeling that at six o'clock the liquor bottles will be brought out. I'm thinking that many more people will show up because they know that they'll be able to drink as much as they want. This seems like the kind of party that my old friend Mark Tindal (1952-2013) would attend.

I recall that I used to go to parties like this when I was younger. I would go to several parties in the same night, one after the other. Now, however, most people who come to this party will simply stay here all evening and eat and drink as much as they want. This should be a good party.

My father (around 50 years old) is standing over in one corner. He has short black hair and I can hear him talking about his life when he was in the Marines. I recall that someone had told me that my father had been telling people that he had served in the Marines. His story-telling chatter seems quite odd because I know that he was never in the Marines. I wonder if he has wanted to be in the military all his life and if he is now simply making up stories as a way of fulfilling that desire.

The room finally starts filling up with people until probably a hundred people are present. It looks as if its time for the party to start. I notice that my sister (around 30 years old) has arrived. I walk over to her to speak with her. I know that she also is aware that my father was never in the Marines. She says that she has heard the story and that she was the one who in fact told me that my father had been propagating this story.

I'm just simply astounded that he is claiming to have been in the Marines. I catch his eye a couple times as he's telling the story, but he quickly glances away.

A few minutes before six o'clock, my father puts on a long black robe which falls to his ankles. The robe resembles ones he used to wear as a preacher when he was a young man. Apparently he's going to give a little sermon at six o'clock. This reminds me of how he was when he used to be a preacher.

Everyone is sitting around the perimeter of the room on what look like bleachers. One man who is apparently a singer stands up and someone asks him to start out a song. Walking around the middle of the room, he begins pointing at different people and sings out, "Praise father! Praise mother!"

I think of other phrases which might be sung, such as, "Praise the womb!"

As the man walks around the room, other people begin singing along with him. The party is starting to kick off.

Dream Commentary

Publishing dreams on the internet is an event which may radically affect one's own dreams.

Paradoxically, the dream-writers whose dreams I read on the Dream Journal web site seem disinclined to acknowledge this truth. I see little inclination of other dream-writers (slogging through their personal histories) to look for the effects of dream-publishing in the dreams, although when I read these published dreams - especially of regular dream-writers - I see what appears to me to be clear evidence of the internet-dream-publishing seeping into their dreams.

For myself, I look at all groups of people in my current dreams as potential metaphors for the group of dream-writers whom I've encountered on the internet. The idea that we're all at a party has occurred several times. I can imagine many other metaphors: a choir of singers, a team on a space ship, passengers on a cruise ship, students in a class, lodgers at a hotel, a masquerade ball, a banquet, a séance, etc. One of the best dreams I saw on the Dream Journal featured a group of kids who had telekinetic powers which enabled them to hack certain types of computer technology and who entered a group dream together in order to perform their hacking. Yet I'm not sure that that particular dream-writer had any concept that her dream might have been influenced by her dream-publishing.

I look at the people at the party in this dream as other dream-writers and dream-readers. I guess I just want to party.

On the flip side of seeing dream-writers in my dreams, another sort of party game which I play is putting myself in other people's dreams when I read them. If I think this person has been reading my dreams, and if someone in the dream reminds me of myself, I imagine that I am that person in the dream. If people are reading my dreams, I suspect that they are dreaming about me, whether they can see it or not.

And guess what - its usually fascinating and fun to imagine yourself in other people's dreams.

Dream Journal Home Page

In my dream, I stumbled upon a Manga (Japanese comic) store. It gave off a cool feeling, it looked kind of gray with a hint of blue, and had J-pop playing int he background. I saw the clerk staring at me, and he had with an expression like "What are you doing here American?" I didn't pay it much mind and approached him. I told him that I've been reading Manga online and I really wanted to get a collection going. So he goes to the wall and picks a box of a Manga series. It had Anima/Animus character archetypes and I wasn't quite into it and told that I would like something else. Then my dad appeared asking what I was doing and I explained. I then told the clerk that I would like something that is Action/Adventure I talked to my dad some more (I forgot the specifics of our conversation.) And I was presented with a bundle of Manga to start my collection. They were all boxed in/ stacked on each, and wrapped in clear plastic. I saw some Manga I didn't recognize, and saw some I didn't. I thought this was a good way to start me of and payed for it. I was a little shocked because the whole thing cost my $35 and I expected them to be more.

it was thanks giving im pretty sre of it and my grandpa was watching tv inside of a giant microwave. my grandma told me to turn it on reheat but i was hesitatant cuz i didnt want him getting to much radiation.

later there was a great battle involving every pokemon that ever was. the coolest one was Richu caause i rode on his back and he could fuck with gravity. also i was on a golf course with an m16 rifle giving some guy protection

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #180: The Dome of Stars

I have a false awakening in my house where I’m trying to do something as quickly as possible. What is it? Oh right -- I’m trying to get out because I’m having a lucid dream.

I move through the rooms as quickly as I can. The layout is similar, but just different enough to throw me off. I wind up in the garage and there’s a new hallway off of the south wall that wasn’t there before. I follow the hallway into what appears to be a bordello. Five or six women who look like Victorian-era prostitutes are standing or sitting near a set of mirrors. One of the seated women is reading a magazine, a couple of them are applying make-up, and some are just standing around not doing much of anything.

I feel like this is one of those LD scenarios where you’re supposed to be thinking sexy thoughts but the women mostly just seem like they’re relaxing on break. I really don’t feel like bothering them. I start asking them something about why they’re running the bordello in my house, but they start moving around and the scene feels a little confusing. I go ahead and phase out through the wall to clear my head.

Now I’m out on the street. Across the street I see a man standing under the branches of an oak. He looks Hawaiian, heavy-set with a salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. I remember the Task of the Month, and approach him asking, “What’s your New Year’s Resolution?”

He’s incredibly eager to answer, and a smile spreads across his face. “To make the most of things, <something something>, and…” He grabs one of my hands in both of his and finished triumphantly: “To cook with more cinnamon!”

His enthusiasm is contagious and I joyously shout, “Thank you for that great answer!” I pause for a moment. “But could you repeat that part in the middle?” He doesn’t seem interested in doing this, though, and wanders away.

Task done, now I just feel like exploring. I fly up past the top of the tree, reminding myself that “The world is yours…” I move up past the treetops and look out at the stars. It’s a beautiful night and I take a moment to enjoy the unfamiliar constellations. I notice one set of stars is exactly the same as a set in a different part of the sky. I laugh at my brain taking this “shortcut”. But then I wonder… did it only do this because I expect it to?

I fly up higher and higher until I can see that the sky is curving above me. In fact, there is no limitless sky but rather just a huge dome that I can reach the top of if I just fly high enough.

And I do! When I reach the very top of the dome, I see a small, glowing control panel! There’s a single flashing green button sitting there at the top of this dome of stars. But as I reach for it, I start losing altitude. I tell myself that “this is all mine” but I can’t shake the notion that I’m just not going to be able to reach that button to find out what it does. I reach up and up, trying to reach it, but the dream fades.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #179: The One Where I Fight Samuel L. Jackson

I have a false awakening but I notice that I’m alone (Wife is missing) and the bed has been turned 90 degrees. Right away I realize that this is a dream.

Something grabs me by the leg, pulls me out of the bed, and drags me to the floor. I look up and Samuel L. Jackson is standing over me! He says something along the lines of “You’re not going anywhere,” and starts to stomp down at me. I think that I should do some tricky/clever dream control thing but I feel too much like I’m in a fight to get it together.

We struggle for a moment until I manage to get my arm wrapped around his ankle, push my foot into his crotch, and then push up, lifting him off of his feet. He falls onto his back and we wrestle around kind of grabbing at each other’s feet to gain control. His head looks close enough to reach so I lash out, kicking him straight in the face. He flops back and stops moving.

I sit up and as I approach Samuel L. Jackson, he changes into a smallish, delicate-looking woman in her mid-20s. She looks Mediterranean and overall completely different from Samuel L. Jackson. “Help me, I’m pretty hurt...” she says, sitting up just a little bit. I feel bad for her, so I pick her up and carry her with me. I notice that she’s very cute but the fact that 15 seconds ago she was Samuel L. Jackson makes me quite uninterested.

We phase through the wall of the house out into the night. I want it to be morning, so I do a hulk-jump or two, expecting the time of day to shift. It does, and before long it’s early morning. We’re on a sidewalk outside of a cafe with a canvas awning.

I walk inside the cafe to find Wife sitting at a table with two strangers, one a heavy, hipster-looking guy and the other a pretty woman in her early 30s with short, brown hair. “I’m having a lucid dream,” I tell them, mostly to explain the fact that I’ve just carried a woman into the cafe with me.

“Ah,” says Wife, giving me a “Oh, another one of those” kind of look. I join them at the table along with the woman formerly known as Samuel L. Jackson, who now seems relatively unhurt and integrates herself naturally into the conversation. The hipster and the brown-haired woman are authors and they’re talking with Wife about their new book. The conversation is strange and it’s hard to understand details.

I’m also distracted by the food. There are little plates of small chocolate bars that I keep sampling. They taste delicious but they fade too quickly, almost as if they were so light and insubstantial that you only get a moment to taste them. At one point, Wife remarks, “He even thinks this is dream food.”

“I admit it, I do!” I say. Everyone chuckles like I’m an amusing eccentric.

Somehow the scene changes to a featureless room with three books lying on the floor. The two writers and the woman who once was Samuel L. Jackson walk out through the door, chatting about something.

I examine the second book. It’s by the writers we ate with and it’s about how early civilizations made fantastic technological leaps forward by using ideas that came to them in lucid dreams. I’m excited by the whole premise of the book. I really believe that it must be true. (I'm also partly offended that they acted so skeptical that I was having a lucid dream.)

“I really want to read this book,” I tell Wife, and she agrees that it sounds right up my alley. Now that we’re alone, I enjoy a little time making out with Wife until the dream ends.

My uber-strange dream from last night:

I was walking down to my gramma cellar un-lucid and everything was foggy like a windshield in the rain. I became lucid then and yelled "Clarity!" To my dream itself to clear up and most of the fog dissipated except for some in the corner of my vision so I spoke "clarity" a bit softer this time and walked upstairs to my gramma's porch. When I got there, there was (of all people who I'd do this with) Roger friggin Taylor. I was annoyed by his presence and asked him why he was here. He didn't answer and pulled me into a kiss.
I remember feeling I felt it was wrong like if you kissed a cousin or something. But, I didn't object. When he finished I asked him why he did that and he said because I wanted to and then the dream dissipated into a fumbling around fully awake me asking myself "what the hell just happened?!"

My Dream diagnosis: stop listening to queen 24/7 and stop obsessing over people I like

Went to bed without a question again last night, a little frustrated as the wife had her tv on in the bedroom.

Dreamscape opens into a industrial area, a factory . There is a keen awareness that the machinery is to the west, the south is open as if a large storage area. My back is largely to the east, and the north is seemingly out of bounds and walled off somehow. Seemed like it was on a floor with another below it. Machinery was running and people were there, one who I knew that I used to work with. One who was always down and depressed it seemed. Things were not working right, the machinery seems out of adjustment and there was an feeling of frustration and anger hanging in the air that all were becoming tuned into.
View shifts to the front porch of a large two story house with basement. Again facing west here with the south open to a field. Back is to the east and north is again seemingly walled off out of bounds. Off the porch is a large area that is a mix of kitchen area and laundry area. Again anger and frustration seems to fill the air for all to tune into. Lots of dirty dishes and laundry coming in to wash up. I seem to be trying to leave for work but cant seem to get my dishes for breakfast or clothes to put on. They seem to be tied up in the dirty dishes and clothes. I end up going around to the south and then east to the corner of the yard out back and face north near a pole in a tight area. trying to re-hinge a flap of some sorts over something . Two old guys are trying to tell me about this old way of hinging stuff and how it works so I can fix it. Dream ends here without me quite getting it fixed. Seems like they are sticking their hands in to help me.


The meaning of this one seems clear to me. The frustration and anger needs cleaned up inside me. Adjustments need made to my "spiritual machinery" before I can progress and face North again

I'm sitting in a hotel restaurant having lunch with my mom. We hear a rumble sound and the walls shake. I look out the window to see big chunks of concrete sidewalk pushed up in the air like a newly forming mountain range. I conclude that water in the ground under the sidewalk has frozen and expanded, pushing the concrete up. Somehow this has knocked the hotel's elevator air filtering system offline. They hire me to design and build a new one that is made from easy to find parts and can be maintained by someone with no experience. Right now they only need one so that people can get down from the many stories above. My friends and I build it inside of an elevator and we ride up and down with it to make sure it continues to work as people move around the floors. One part had to be cast out of metal by my dad, scaled up from a prototype I sent him. I'm worried that this violates the off-the-shelf parts requirement, but I figure the part is painted bright red so no one will notice.

1. [Non-Lucid] [Vivid]
I'm at my old secondary school in the corridor looking in at the lift room through the safety glass, I see an old friend, Laura from College (she notices me and seems pleased to see me, I tried not to acknowledge her for some reason) the lift opens and she doesn't want to enter as she doesn't like being alone.

Now I'm in the lift with 3 others 1 of which is an old teacher of mine, The lift start to ascend and it won't stop it just keeps going, it stops at floor 7 (theirs only 3 floors...) then all of a sudden the lift plummets to the ground {I felt like, just for a second, that I was floating, it was so tranquil, so pleasant}, it hits the ground floor, I was the only survivor out of the 4 of us, the lift then ascends for a 2nd time.


2. [Non-Lucid] [Less-Vivid]
Walking down a corridor, there are doors at the end with a small group of people behind them, I open the door and enter, I then go through a door to my right, it leads to a 2 story tall room with a metal walkway leading around the room to the floor, I skip it by jumping over the railing, I go through a door into the next room, theirs like a dance floor in the middle, i meet a guy and he asks what I got so I showed him this card, It was to buy the game Twisted Metal I think, anyway this made me and him quite happy.

Now I'm freaking out as I noticed I have somehow forgotten my laptop, now I can't Skype my friend and will end up incredibly lonely lol, I then remember I bought my Phone so grabbed it.

I notice a guy sitting at a PC desk with a big black screen.

Side Notes:
Really vivid dreams

Morning of January 13, 2014. Monday.



I am watching, I think, a DVD from the local library. Often in real life they do not consistently work, but this one does in-dream. It is, however, fairly boring and I remember that it has a misleading title. It involves a teenage boy who I believe is in ninth grade and involved in boring escapades relating to collecting wins from sports-related gambling endeavors, as well as avoiding those he owes money to. This went on in my own school (even in middle school) but I was rarely ever involved in it myself.

At times, it seems I am actually in the movie, but more as a camera-man-type character. The boy, at one point, walks up a flight of steps that is supposedly only for those in grades eleven and twelve to use and he is yelled at by an eleventh grader - it is on an open high balcony where other students are gathered and either gossiping or relaxing on their own.

From here, he seems to be in an argument over who owes what, monetarily. There is talk and debate on the (American) football games and potential for the scores of future games. Somehow, pizza is involved in the forecasting. There is a recently-ordered pizza (Domino’s - I recognize the logo) sitting on the table in the cardboard container by the seated older boy (in a metal folding-chair). Supposedly, it is a new trend of “fortune telling” - by reading the random toppings on a pizza (received from any takeout place) and also relating to gambling. The pizza supposedly represents “everything” even though the other boy (the ninth-grader) denies it. It first looks like the older boy is going to toss a coin, but instead picks up a smaller slice of pizza and tosses that. The older boy drops the slice of pizza on the floor and it lands topside down, which also supposedly represents something symbolically in the upcoming football game. However, the pizza also supposedly represents the younger boy’s grades and schoolwork and life itself (as well as the dropped slice which seems to have been done on purpose) according to the older boy - as if he controls the other boy’s destiny with the simple act of dropping a slice of his own pizza. It seems a bit “off” and enigmatic and ambiguous all at once. “The pizza represents a pizza,” says the other boy, and walks away even though the other boy is still talking in a superior manner.

I could not stay in one dream for more than a minute or so last night . I knew i was dreaming and saw quite a few fun looking dreams but I couldnt stay in any of them. I couldnt understand why I could not enjoy them. I was in the dream and astrally above myself in the dream 2 places at once, It was a strange feeling . I looked for things to help make my dream stable but I watched my dream places and versions of myself float off. as if the dreams were still going on with out me , then my self would be in another dream playing out the dream and at the same time above myself leaving the dream. kinds like I was 2 people at once . I have astrally traveled before and this was not that this was all dream

I know i usually have a bunch of dreams in one night and I am usually lucid enough to know i am dreaming but dream control is something I lack . I jolted out of bed once and went back to sleep . and this kept going on I must have jumped to over 20 dreams in one night .

woke up feeling less rested than when I went to bed booo but weird and had to share not a nightmare either i was not scared at any time in fact all of the dreams seemed like they would have been quite fun. all of the mes looked like they where having a great time

Fragment

The king of England sent me $200, A $25 gift card to amazon com, and a collection of postage stamps. I was opening the envelope while standing in the meadow outside of whiterun (skyrim)

Fragment

I found a pen with a laser pointer on the end of it. I wanted to use it to play with my cat.

The Cat Shelter

I was walking near the seamless tubing factory a couple blocks from my subdivision. This young girl approached me and asked me about helping her to start a cat shelter for a group of stray cats that were living next to the factory.
After she tells me that a number of cats emerge out of a segment on concrete pipe sitting on the ground. One of them cats has bright blue fir.
"HOLY CRAP A CAT WITH BRIGHT BLUE FIR! I thought that was only a myth!"
...
"Nope, no reason to reality check. Nothing strange here."
...
"Nah, I don't feel like starting a cat shelter with you."
I wake up.

I lack the recall of the events leading to this moment, but me and a group of people whom I don't recall but one are under attack. A group of hostile "survivors" I guess you could call them are searching for us. Me and a few from our group go and hide in the ruins of a destroyed building. An M1 Abrams tank drives by and soldiers walk by as well. I notice the insignia this group uses and it interests me a little. It's a crescent moon. However, my interests are soon interrupted when I think we are discovered(my recall is a little shaky on this part). Our group has been discovered by the enemy and they are feeding our group to these extremely devilish-like creatures. One is like a large black serpent sort of thing with gnashing teeth. The other is almost like a clam, but the size of a truck with huge eyes and sharp teeth. The creatures are devouring my group, whom for some reason Merle Dixon is a part of. Merle? I thought he died!!!

Well that's beside the point, but anyway this is part of the dream is actually very frightening to me. I don't recall very well, but it was some point in time around this part of the dream in which I realize this is far too out of place and I become lucid. Okay, time to get the hell out of this place! I now fly off until I come to a town where I enter a grocery store. I fly around inside for awhile and I do a reality check because I just feel like doing one even though I'm lucid already. I plug my nose and breathe through it. I do this several times and then look at the backs of my hands. I notice my right ring finger is only half the normal length. I then look at my palms and I see my left hand is shaped the same as my right hand(the fingers are on the same sides). I now move along and land on the ground. I think about what to do and remember I can still do the task of the month. I walk up to the cash register where there's an African-American man who doesn't seem to be enjoying this job too much.
"Excuse me sir," I begin. "What's the meaning of life? Shit...wrong question, disregard that one." "Uh...what is your New Years resolution?" The man now steps out from the counter and begins browsing items near the cash register. He turns to me and answers. I don't recall his answer 100%, so a lot of this is paraphrased.
"There're only two things I try to do," he says. "Radio broadcasts and New Years resolutions, and I a suck at both of them. Though my voice is quite majestic."
He continues rambling on for a few minutes and I'm thinking to myself about how I'm going to recall all of this quote to type it on Dream Views. I soon leave and I end up traveling on a snowy road. It is an unmarked and unplowed road with a frozen lake nearby it. I think about what I should do next, but I soon awake to my dog singing the song of his people downstairs.