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Couldn't recall anything this night.

I had my standard zombie dream, except I was moistening some sort of canister with spit on my hands so I could stick them onto the side of a trailer to give me more space There was a zombie cop in a house right beside me and needed more space to maneuver and avoid his acid spit.
Then I loaded someone else's file and it was horde night but it also had the baby mutants from The Forest.

I had another dream I only recall partially. My brother moved into my bio-dads house. It displaced my step-mom though and she was lashing out over FB. I asked if she had left anything behind and he said they got everything- even one of the cats.

Fitbit: 7AM-1:30PM restless 2hrs 39 minutes for a grand total of 3hrs and 56 minutes worth of sleep

I had a dream that I was Yato...and Hiyori was kidnapped by a mean and scary witch. Me, Yato, tried to find her together with Yukine. I desperately searched for her in an unending hall, with blue, orange, and purple lights... And when I finally found her, we were teared apart again by the witch.
I just couldn't get closer to Hiyori...and she was so precious to me, I could feel it. Me and Yukine tried everything to take her from the witch, but when we finally could touch her, and take her with us. The witch came, and I can't explain how creepy the witch was... Hiyori got absorbed in that hole again, the home of the witch, and I had to think of a plan all over again.

And now, that I could talk to Hiyori in telepathy. I told her to at least take down the witch, and run as hard as she could to our side. Me and Yukine will try to throw the witch in an endless cave where she can't come out. (there was one nearby) I became Hiyori at that point, and tried it what Yato said to me. It worked, even when the witch became so scaryT_T I ran as hard as I could to Yato's side, away from that hole. I looked back at where the witch layed unconciouss, because I was too scared if the witch woke up.
When I was luckily by Yato's side, I became Yato again, and ran to the witch. I grabbed her hair, and dragged her to the cave, where she would never could come out, but suddenly, that cave was sealed...I couldn't throw her in... So I told Hiyori and Yukine to run as fast as they can, we need to lose the witche's side. I threw the witch away, and ran as fast as I could together with Hiyori and Yukine.

I could already feel the piercing eyes of the witch, and I told the others to run faster than ever.
At some time..I don't remember very well anymore, but I convinced the witch to leave us, but I really don't know anymore how..so we finally were left alone, and had peace. I higged Hiyori real hard, and I began to cry, Hiyori had nany bruses everywhere, and I just help it...I cried out of my dream:'3

That's my dreamstory for the day...
Sorry if the grammar isn't all that okxD

First thing I remember, I was sitting on a horse in a quaint town. There was another guy on a horse who was leading the way. He showed me how to speed up and we galloped through the town. He disappeared while we were riding. I stopped when I saw a boy trying to open a big warehouse door for a delivery. I helped him open the door and a man from inside the warehouse took it and secured it open. Then a large box was delivered (a piano?) A woman handed me a money order and said that I could cash it at the local bank and she gave me directions. I asked her about a bookstore in town. She told me there was a new one that would be opening tomorrow.

I walked through the town admiring its quaintness and thinking that Peg and I might want to move here. I saw where the new bookstore would be opening. It was to be mostly a used book store. People walking on the street seemed to be pleasantly buzzed. I mentioned to a middle-aged, female, passerby that it was a little bit like the movie, The Stepford Wives. I was not sure if she would get the reference but she did and agreed with me.

I went into a diner. I had a bag with clothes in it. I noticed a woman smoking at the table next to me. I asked her to confirm, “We can smoke in here?” At first, she seemed to think I was messing with her and kind of gave me a snarky response. Then I looked and saw that there were ashtrays on all the tables. I thought, “Peg would love this place.” I lit a cigarette and decided that I should take a selfie photo of me smoking a cigarette in a restaurant. By this point there were more people wandering up to nearby tables and chatting, mostly attractive women. I took the selfie and noticed that there was a flirtatious-looking woman in the background. It occurred to me that Peg might not be that happy with me hanging out at this place. I tried to text her the selfie on my phone but I could not find the photo. There were a bunch of photos that I had not seen before, of a wedding that my sister Christine had attended. I struggled with the phone for a minute but had to give up on sending the photo. (tech fail)

Then an attractive woman approached me and asked me in a flirtatious manner if I wanted to go downstairs. I asked her what happens downstairs. She said something like, “Generous men buy subscriptions to our magazines.” I thanked her but said maybe another time. Then a young guy approached me and asked me about my refusal to go downstairs with the woman, intimating that I would have a good time. I told that man that I was married and politely refused. An older gentleman sitting nearby said that I should have gone downstairs but not engaged in anything saying that this would make me intriguing to them.

I was getting ready to go and I started organizing the clothes I had in my bag. A middle-aged woman took my lunch tray and began walking off with it. I said that I still had to pay and she stopped. I worked out the payment with her. There was also a large pile of change that I had left on the tray. She tried to give it back to me but I told her to keep it as a donation to the women who were selling magazine subscriptions.

I walked through a different room, intending to exit the restaurant through a different door. There were some little private boxes that were like free standing closets. I realized that men were meeting women in these boxes to chat privately before going downstairs. I ended up stepping into one of these boxes. It was a particularly small one, about the size of a phone booth. A woman stepped into the box and spoke with me for a minute explaining that the magazines were around $12 per issue. That seemed kind of expensive to me. But I said that I could probably buy a three-month subscription. We left the box and I was presumably going to meet her downstairs. But then I was captured by a group of men and put into a primitive box with sticks going through the top so the box could be carried by several men. I was afraid that they were going to send me to South America to be a slave.

They brought me to a darkish room downstairs where there was an auction going on. They were auctioning off men for sexual encounters with men and women. I was not too happy about this. Some people told me that it was not that bad. One gave me a clear plastic glove to make things less messy.
By then Peg had showed up and we discussed the pros and cons of the two of us working at a place like this. I guess it paid pretty well. But we would have to have sexual encounters with people of either sex. I think we were leaning against the idea. But then I woke up before we had decided.

Ritual: Woke at dawn after about 4–5 hours sleep and complex but dimly remembered dreams. Considered taking galantamine but decided against it, as my motivation was not sufficiently high. I didn't want to completely give up, so I took a quarter teaspoon each of piracetam and bacopa. Woke at 8am with dream.

DILD, "Let's See What's in My Backpack!": I was walking through some type of institutional corridor when an odd plaque on the wall caught my attention. It was a rectangle of flat grey stone like slate, about a foot long and a few inches high, with block capital letters incised, reading: "AWAKEN."

Like what, into a dream? I thought wryly. For that to work, I'd have to be... oh wow... am I dreaming? No sooner had the suspicion arose than I immediately recognized it to be true. I immediately went into dream observation mode, taking the plaque into my hands and examining its details.

Feeling grateful that the dream itself had given me a clue as to its nature, I was reminded of a similar incident that had happened just earlier tonight: this was the second time I had gotten lucid due to events in the dream. A DC had said "lucid" and that had triggered me. No wait, actually it was the third time... I remembered briefly getting lucid in an even earlier dream, but I was embarrassed when I realized how quickly I had lost that awareness.

Of course, the fascinating thing about these memories is that I have no way of knowing if they are real. I'm more than half inclined to think that they are false memories, the kind of deja vu that is so common in the dream state. Then again, I still forget such a great portion of a full night's dreaming, even now, that the possibility remains that these incidents actually occurred. There's no way of knowing for sure, which is interesting in itself. It is the perfect epistemological quandary.

Now aware that I was dreaming, I continued walking through the institutional corridor, and felt that I had been walking through similar corridors in my just-remembered lucid episodes earlier tonight. If the memories are not false, there is nothing surprising about the coincidence: for some reason bland institutional corridors seem to be my default dream space.

I wandered aimlessly for a bit—I think I passed a cafeteria—until I realized that if I wanted to stay lucid this time I would need to perform some deliberate action. During my WBTB I had not felt motivated to attempt any DV tasks, so that is probably why none occurred to me now. As I continued walking and wondering what to do I noticed a familiar sensation, and realized that I was wearing my backpack. Since 2001 I have been using the same leather backpack, seemingly indesctructible, every day at school and on every journey I travel. I was amused that it was with me even here in a dream, and surprised by how distinctly I could feel the impression of weight on my back. Wondering what might be in it, I realized that this could be a fun spontaneous task.

I passed from the corridor into a very large rectangular room with walls tiled in squares of light blue glazed ceramic. The room was completely empty, with no features or furniture or people. I walked to the very center and announced loudly, even though no one was in sight: "Okay, everybody! I'm going to play the game of 'Let's See What's in My Backpack!'" I unslung the backpack from my shoulders and held it upside down, dumping its contents into a pile on the floor.

The first thing I pulled off the pile was a winter jacket, made of smooth synthetic cloth with a quilted core. The inside was a rich royal blue, and the outside was bright red with black highlights. It was very clean and new, and resembled no jacket I have ever owned, nor would be likely to purchase.

The second thing I picked up was a clear plastic bag with a zip lock, one of the medium-sized ones that is deeper than it is wide. It was full of coins. I looked more closely at the coins and it was clear that they were all Thai, though they resembled no WL Thai currency. "I wonder if I just got back from Thailand," I mused—meaning within the context of the dream.

The next thing I grabbed was a plastic bag of similar shape and size, and this one also contained flat pieces of metal, but instead of being round like coins, these were engraved rectangular strips. I decided that they must be some decorative pieces I had picked up in Thailand. This idea had evidently taken hold, because the next few items in the pile were cheap Thai souvenir gifts, like decorative little pouches and other small assorted knickknacks. I set these aside impatiently.

Next was a book, evidently a journal, titled A Wonderful Compendium of Lessons of Life Learned. I regret now that I was not inspired to open and read it! I must have figured that if the lessons were already learned, I wouldn't get anything new out of it. It did not occur to me that my waking mind might be really interested in what my dreaming mind might think to put in such a book.

After this I pulled four different water bottles off the pile, one after another. One was a hot water bottle like you use in bed. One was military style canteen that I thought I recognized as one I used to own. Another was a flat drinking flask, fairly large in size. I think the last one was just an ordinary plastic bottle of water. My impression was that I needed all four bottles because they each served a different purpose: hot water for warming, cold water for drinking, warm water for drinking, and flask for drinking. But I realized that it was terribly inefficient to carry four separate water bottles, and I wondered if I could consolidate them down to just two, so I would have less to carry around. I decided to worry about that later.

The last thing I pulled from the pile was a very large duffel bag, the size of the one I use to carry my HEMA gear. In WL my bag is plain black canvas, but this one was (not inappropriately) emblazoned with the Tournament of the Phoenix logo. It occurred to me that given how much stuff had been in my backpack, perhaps I should be using this duffel bag to carry it instead—but I remembered what a pain it was to lug around a huge unwieldy duffel bag, and decided to stick with the backpack.

At this point a huge crowd of people suddenly thronged the room, all seemingly in a hurry to go somewhere, and they were sidestepping me and my stuff with annoyed expressions like I was in their way. "Hey! I claimed this space first," I protested. One DC paused to look at my Tournament of the Phoenix duffel bag and asked another DC standing across from me something about martial arts training in the area, talking right over my head (I was still sitting on the floor with my stuff). "You'd think you'd be asking the person with the duffel bag," I muttered, slightly miffed. I noticed that whereas I had initially occupied the very center of the room and had not moved, now I was all the way over near a side wall, and yes, right in the path that everyone was trying to walk through.

I had time enough to wonder if I should wake and write or dream on a little. I decided the latter—I usually do—but found myself waking up anyway.

I keep reading Nebulus's nightmares and they creep me out. It was only a matter of time before reading nightmares was going to affect me. It started where Neb (in my mind that was who he was) was standing against a wooden wall with his hands in shackles and a gruesome looking man had an ax that he was throwing at him. Every time he missed he had to come back and yank the ax out of the wood. I went over and stood next to Neb and told him it was just a dream and he could change it. First I needed to freeze the guy to stop the ax from flying. I wanted him still so I pictured him frozen (meaning still but instead he turned to ice lol) Not exactly as planned but it worked. I asked Neb to get out of the shackles. I thought he would produce a key, but he slumped and as he slumped down his arms stretched out, and out his hands came. He looked like a rubber man haha. Neb said let's fly out of here, but I felt bad leaving ax man in ice so I thought I could blow hot air on him, I blew hard and only a little bit melted. I wished him to be unfrozen and that didn't work, so we decided not to waste any more time and left him knowing it would melt eventually. Neb flew up and I followed him up to the top of a castle wall where we sat and I told him from now on when he has a nightmare he will know it is a dream and he can change it to get out of any situation. I opened my hand and showed him a little red ball the size of a nickel and handed it to him and told him you don't have to kill! LOL. Even though I left a guy in an ice block, but he will be ok when it melts .

Morning of January 30, 2017. Monday.



All the members of the Waltons family each have singular kiosks set up along the roadside in a straight line, adjacent to an old warehouse. It is a back road in an unknown region (but is probably meant to be Walton’s mountain). Each of the Waltons is selling something different. Mother Walton is selling handmade potholders and oven mitts. Grandma Walton is selling preserves in jars. (She is at the last kiosk on the left.) John Boy Walton is apparently attempting to sell the books of his he once had printed from a subsidy publisher he was victimized by. I am not sure what the others are selling (though Jim Bob is seemingly with slingshots).

It is nighttime eventually, and rather dark out. No one else but me (other than the Waltons) had been in the area. A very small meteor comes down and hits mother Walton’s kiosk but does not seem to do much damage. Another one just misses Grandma Walton’s stand.

I tell them that the meteors are coming down in a particular pattern. They do not at all seem to be concerned about the falling meteors even with the two close calls. I predict where the next one will hit and I am correct. I go and put the contents of the small meteorite in a large transparent glass container.

Looking closely into the container, holding it up, I see a few bits of rock. I also see a curious orange glow on the right side of the container. Near the center of the container is an odd structure that looks cylindrical and constructed of green glowing glass shards that are long and thin but also resemble a burning cigarette (other than the embers being green).

After a short time, there are two oversized beetles in the container, bigger than my hands. One is a golden Christmas beetle, the other resembling a green weevil mixed with a rhino beetle. I am thinking of how they came from another planet and somehow survived within the meteor (even though they seemed to rapidly grow from out of the embers), though I consider how there is only one of each (though each is beautiful in its own way). I am also thinking that they are too different to reproduce since they are seemingly different species. No sooner do I hold that thought for a moment when they start to mate. The shiny green beetle climbs atop the golden one and they remain mating until my dream ends.

The Waltons, especially Grandma and John Boy (who are standing the closest to me) stare at the event, not speaking.

---

...

1/28/2017

Bed 7pm – still sick since tuesday when I got back from europe

DR 9pm

Ophelia came to visit me. I wanted to ask her why she came and why she left us and didn’t talk, but I decided to just let her take the lead and do and say or not do and not say whatever she wants.

She started talking, not mentioning the past. Almost as if nothing happened. But I knew that it was on her mind and she is not sure how I will react.

Rest is gonna be in my personal DJ.