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For the past few days, I've had more of these experiences that occur during the waking phase, right before gaining full consciousness. It's almost like I am speaking to myself. It manifests as an "inner voice", which feels alien to my character, but at the same time definitely comes from me. Like there are two of me existing simultaneously, but are separated. I have a potential explanation for this phenomenon.

During sleep (in non-lucid dreams), the "logical" part of the brain (the frontal lobe) is mostly shut down, and we are guided/motivated almost entirely by our subconscious (which is why we are less "restrained" in dreams, and tend to "follow the plot" without thinking things through properly). When waking, the logical part of us wakes up. Perhaps, for some reason, I don't sleep as deeply as I used to, and/or my waking phase takes longer than it used to. During that time of "ultra light sleep", my consciousness (frontal lobe) might awake while my subconscious is still asleep, and immersed in a dream. Instead of leading to lucidity, it might cause some kind of temporary "split" of my consciousness and subconsciousness, in which the former can give "advice" to the latter...

In both cases I experienced thus far, the inner voice was a "voice of reason" that gave advice on my dream experience, things that I would have missed if not for that hint. The voice has some kind of "meta-knowledge" of the dream. In one case, it told me something would not work - and in another case it outright told me to stop being a zombie and flee from the hideout of an obvious serial killer... something my dream character was blissfully unaware of until the voice told him... me... whatever.

Weird stuff.

I'm at some guy's house. He has an injured or unconscious woman with him, who he carries to a small room where he lets her rest and recover (he found her somewhere and carried her to his home, I think. *REDACTED SECTION* At some point, as I was slowly waking, a voice (or my waking voice speaking to my dreaming self) told me "dude, that guy is a serial killer - get out of there". I decided to escape the house, but woke up.

Another fragment that occurred *while* I was waking up. I was in bed, could feel my own body and see reality, but hallucinated that my phone went off. I picked up the phone and talked to a doctor. I asked about psychotherapy. The doctor said I had to see a professional for that. I asked who he would recommend exactly. At that moment, my waking was complete, and I realized I wasn't on the phone at all. I think I spoke that last sentence out loud.

Awesome sequence of dreams, very memorable. I had orders to assassinate a military officer (using a sniper rifle) at a military base. But I had trouble identifying him, and there were far too many other soldiers around to get a closer look. I think I temporarily gave up.

Another scene. I'm in a big city, at night, and it looks like it's the 1920's. It's raining. I'm in a parking lot (lots of old timers, that's how I know I was in the past), and I wanted to steal car to get out of there. My motivating for this criminal behavior is a mystery to me. The door opened, as door locks didn't exist yet in this dream version of 1920. The car alarm went off, and it was loud. A voice told me (or my own inner voice?) that I needed keys to start the car, so it was pointless to even try. But it was too late... between two buildings, I could see a man, a cop, approaching - investigating the alarm. I tried to casually walk away from the vehicle, but knew he'd seen me and was following me. He would arrest me soon, I thought. But then, something happened. I "felt" like I could fly. I could sense gravity "tugging" at me, almost begging me to take off - it's hard to describe. I realized it was the ultimate way to escape arrest. Here begins the "pseudo-lucid" part of the dream. I have all the abilities I'd have if I was lucid, and have some subconscious idea that I am in control and this isn't real, but at the same time not really... once again, very hard to describe. I still blindly follow the "plot" of the dream as if I wasn't lucid. I take off, and look back at the cop in mid-air. He stands there, looking at me, bummed out he couldn't arrest me. I give him the finger, and fly away. The flying, despite the rain and the darkness, felt exhilarating as hell. I looked down, or saw my shadow on a building, and saw I was wearing my long black trench coat. I was also wearing a black leather cowboy hat. I flew through the city, fast. So fast, I flew straight towards a building and knew I'd hit it if I didn't make evasive maneuvers pronto. But as usual, I knew such high speed maneuvers would be difficult, and I was too lazy. I decided to simply fly right through the building instead. I expected to violently burst through the windows and through the whole building, but instead I just kind of "no-clipped" through it, as if it was a fake video game object. This felt dissatisfying.

I flew into the next scene. Near the base from the beginning of the dream sequence was the Hollywood sign, which I flew past. It was sunset. I decided to finish my mission. Here things get violent. Continue reading at your own peril. I landed in the middle of the base, and smashed my way into the largest building. I fought soldiers, and defeated them easily using super-strength. I smashed them into walls, through walls, into each other, and worse. If doors were closed, I casually smashed them down, or just walked through the wall (physically breaking it down, not phasing through). At one point, to get to the floor above me, I just super-jumped up, smashed through the ceiling, and ended up on the floor above! In combat, I used a form of super-speed (the same mental power that propels me in flight) to bash into soldiers, to get a bit of extra punch. Anyway, I couldn't find my target. I grabbed a soldier, and forced him to tell me where his commander was. The soldier told me he was in the small building across from the big one I was in. I walked over to it, and casually bashed in the massive steel door. There he was, the target. Suddenly, I was attacked by several soldiers that came running at me from the courtyard. They stabbed me with their knives (in the chest and abdomen), but my skin was as solid as Superman's and they did not penetrate. It felt very uncomfortable, though. I easily "defeated" the soldiers. Again, very violent moment coming up. I turned to the surviving soldiers, as I was holding another one in my iron grip. I told them I would rip their buddy's head off. The commander mockingly said he doubted I could do that. The soldiers, on the other hand, said he should not doubt my words. They'd seen me in action before. Eager to prove my power, I started violently jerking my prey's head to the back. I used my mental "lucid powers" to imagine it being easy, but it still gave a lot of resistance. In the end, I could see a red "line" in his neck where the skin started tearing from the pressure... That's where the dream ended. It was ludicrously violent, but it felt so good. I was an absolute terror, the "anti-Superman". It felt... liberating! The entire dream had a pretty cool pop-rock soundtrack, and I think I may have heard the song in real life before.

In a later dream, I was an "escort dude", or gigolo. People were standing by a black board, and had to "grade me". Disturbingly, my mother was there too, and also graded me (gross!).

I was in a classroom, among teenagers, but I was an adult myself. I lost my temper, as the other managed to say things that got under my skin and made me relive the horror of my own high school years (and history with bullying). I was desperate to affirm my superiority over them ("I'm an adult, you can't bully me anymore!") but felt utterly powerless. Guess that's why I enjoy ripping DC's heads off...

I was carrying trash bags while riding on a motorcycle through my hometown. One bag in each hand... Cool 80's synth music played in the background.

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.

28-01-2017
Bathroom

It was evening, I took some clothes and went to bathroom to take a shower. The place looked like before renovation, it was horribly dirty. There was some sewage in bathtub, I opened lid of the toilet seat and saw an utter mess of mud, excretes and random junk, even bread loaves. I flushed the water and it started raising, then abruptly lowered with an ominous gurgle. This acually made me happy, I thought that I've dealt with some problem in a nice way.

WBTB attempt.

Fragment

I recall bits of a dream, a fragment that I can't quite wholly recall. I was in house, probably kitchen, talking with family.

29-01-2017
Smog

I heard news reporter talking about air pollution, dangers of smog and how it's built, it was in some city at a dawn. When he spoke about it's built, I was high up in the sky, standing in front of wall of clouds. I could spot individuall cloudy-bricks in it's structure.

[I was already lucid by the point, but don't remember the earlier parts as I fell asleep while recollecting.]
It's dark out, and I'm with a group of about a dozen, in an apocalypse-type scene. The buildings are worn down, and we're evading an unknown danger.
I head into a shed with a couple others, and see a medium sized animal (threat!) on the ground/floor. I decide to test out my fire-emitting abilities, so shape my hands, and focus on the feeling of something being released from them. It takes a few tries, but remembering back on earlier times causes it to briefly/weakly work (I get a small flame to form on the ground).

I head back to the group, and decide we should get weapons to defend ourselves with. I look around, and find a pile of wooden bars and long panels. I pick them up, and distribute them amonst the members. I take one of the nicer ones, and take a minute to just go around basking in the beauty/awe of the situation. I remember, in particular, wifts of cloud/fog passing by, andnpassing my wooden bar through it, and seeing it dissapate the moisture some.

At some point, more threats come nearby, and, with the others, I engage in combat with a few -- still practicing some dream abilities. (for example, using the stick as a catilyst for sparks and flames on the target behind it visually)

I wake up after a couple more minutes, and begin recollection. However, I wanted to turn on my other side because it would feel nice, and though I knew this greatly increased the chance of falling asleep aaccidentally, I did it anyway -- and in fact did fall asleep. (with the app turned off)

I plan to reduce this occurence in the future, either by learning to keep my app running while recollecting, or by doing faster recording by using a bluetooth keyboard or the like with text entry already set up for the night (so I can just start typing at any point in the night).

After this was a vivid non-lucid dream, followed by a relatively short period where I did become lucid -- though with a focus on the situation at hand since by that point I'd gotten in combat (of sorts) with someone.

The background for this second dream was our living in the equivalent of a civilization ship, where everyone we know lives in the same megastructure (not sure if it was actually in space).

One part had me with my sister and old friend passing over a river, and me getting a bit wet when I fell off the floating dock-like platform. (the water was very shallow, however)

Another part had me running down the halls to various places iwl from my memory (like our old house). Eventually I reached a situation that sparked lucidity, after our garage had been broken down earlier and my dad was rebuilding it. Someone from the rest of the dream had run down to our garage as well, and suspecting the guy a threat (he was like a courier from the government or other group it seemed) I got in a pseudo-combat situation, but eventually managed to defuse the situation by staying calm and actually reasoning with the person. (he had a knife, and I had general dream powers, so we had mutually assured destruction/discomfort and were motivated toward peace)
It was fun accomplishing this, but before I could go on to other goals (which I actually remembered this time), I woke up.

I had a strange dream about being in bed with my p-doc. We were just snuggling but it could've turned into more but I saw my hubby's lights come on across the field and jumped up terrified he'd see a different car in the driveway and come investigate. As the dream evolved, hubby didn't live there, my mom did. She knew who was over and she was furious because he broke into her house, knocked over the Christmas tree, stole 2 boxes of gifts and a loaf of bread. I kept trying to tell her he didn't do that, that he'd been at my place the whole time, but she wasn't hearing it.

In another dream, some girl cut off her arm with a knife. I told myself that couldn't happen because it wasn't strong enough to get through bone, but it never occurred to me that I was dreaming