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Selkies have popped up a few times in my dreams, enough so that I wanted to make an entry on them in this log.

But before I can talk about the Selkies we need to talk about the vampires.

Vampires are your standard, Nosferatu-style, blood-drinking undead, with palid gray skin and elongated fangs. However the anatomy of the vampires of my dreams differs (consistently differing across different dreams, oddly enough) from the standard in a few ways. First, the feet of a vampire are more batlike than humanlike, and can be used to cling to cave ceilings. Second, the vampires possess crooked, bizarre "hook hands". The hands have an extra finger after the pinky finger, which curves outward and away from the hand. This hook-finger moves and flexes at odd angles. Additionally the hook-finger, as well as the pinky finger and the thumb, are covered in bone spurs that protrude from the flesh. A vampire can drink blood through it's hands, and when resting prefers to have its hook-hands soaking in fresh, bloody meat when possible.

A vampire cannot be truly killed, as it will come back to life eventually, and thus the best that can be done is to bury a vampire's body after it dies, so that it comes back to life deep underground.

Selkies, much like the creatures from Scottish folklore of the same name, are shapeshifters bearing a human form and a seal form, though in my dreams their alternate form is always that of a walrus rather than a seal. Selkies can freely switch between their two forms, and often do so to facilitate movement, since they are faster in the water as a walrus and faster on the land as a man.

The selkies as a whole are additionally fiercely dedicated vampire hunters, devoting their lives to keeping mankind safe from the vampiric threat. In their walrus forms, they primarily fight vampires using their tusks, driving their massive, ivory stakes through the hearts of the vampire to incapacitate it. In their human form, they favor use of a "flying guillotine" of Wuxia movie fame, a hatlike object on a chain that can be thrown over an opponent's head, the chain then used to trigger spring-loaded blades, causing decapitation. These are favored since decapitation will also incapacitate a vampire.

After destroying a vampire, a selkie will bury the remains, as a vampire cannot truly be killed. Selkies maintain maps of all their burial locations, so they can intervene whenever new construction might threaten to unearth a disposed-of threat.

In the course of fighting vampires, inevitably some selkies get bitten by vampires and become vampires themselves. Vampire selkies continue to hunt rogue vampires, dedicating their now-immortal existence to the craft, and are still accepted by the rest of the selkies, despite being vampires themselves. Vampiric selkies partner with the Catholic Church to control their bloodlust, as Catholic communion wine, due to the doctrine of transubstantiation (the belief that communion wine, the "blood of God", is literally transformed to Jesus' blood once consumed), allows a selkie vampire to drink blood without having to actually shed any blood. Transubstantiation is, apparently, a 100% correct belief in my dreams, and can be thus used to sustain a vampire. Vampiric selkies often must get their communion wine through intermediaries, however, as it isn't easy to obtain communion wine without encountering crosses.

^w^

Hypnagogia: a pair of hands pressed together as if in prayer, both skewered by a double pointed blade.

37/ 14th Lucid. In a van, I backed into a parking spot at the top of a tall waterfall. I slowly backed toward the cliff. “Stop, you’re going to fall!” someone yelled. In a split second my mind considered the situation and the location and I smiled. “It’s okay, this is a dream,” I told the worried onlookers. I backed over the cliff, slipped out of the van like I was a spirit, teleported to just above the ground below, then dropped back to earth. People at the base of the waterfall screamed as the van plumetted toward them. I glared up and thought, “Stop.” The van halted midair. It gently spiraled to the ground and settled onto its wheels. The crowd cheered and ran toward me.
I knew that they would distract me if I got involved so I ran and dove into a tree. I split into particles, filtered down into the roots, and dripped back into my body shape to drop through a dim space. (always creepy and cool when I dissintegrate) I landed on a flat and looked up. The clouds, if they were clouds, were tangled with all shapes and sizes of roots. I thought to sing to the sky but couldn’t remember the song. Instead I wandered the dim area looking for something to trigger my memory.

38/ Some friends invited me to their sci fi larp thing. They were dressed in silver outfits with silver weapons. An odd weapon was a huge silver cube that my one friend would climb into and run in. It looked awkward and floppy and I didn’t understand it. Partway to the larp area I got distracted by food. By time I was done eating and found my friends, the larp was done. They regailed me with the tales of their outerspace adventures.

woke at 4:43am. WBTB

39/ 15th LUCID. Just suddenly aware I was dreaming. It was hard to walk, my legs tingled as if asleep. I looked down to see no legs. Figured I must be feeling my sleeping real legs. I floated along, no longer human shaped. I yelled, “Dream?” just to ensure I had a voice. I really needed to know what I looked like so tried to split into two. I wanted to stand beside myself to see myself. During the stressful process of struggling to split, I woke.

40/ I helped two of my sisters shell dried corn. The buckets filled and there was corn left so I made a pouch of the bottom of my tshirt and let kernals fall into it. I slid into the crook of a tree root for more comfort. I was suddenly high in the tree, precariously balanced on a flat spot where someone had cut a tree branch off. It was a steep angle and I started sliding off. I didn’t want to spill the kernals and struggled to sit still while protecting the corn. “Hurry, go get baskets or buckets or something!” I yelled at my sisters. They went slowly and came back with a small bowl. I tried to pour the corn into it. The kernals went everywehre. Some were even picked up by the wind and scattered farther away.
I slid out of the tree and picked the kernals out of the grass. Not watching where I was backing into, I slid into a giant garbage hole. My sisters stood at the top and chatted about how best to save me. I slid deeper into the hole and at its bottom fell into a pool of frothy garbage water. I struggled to stay afloat. My sisters walked away. I slowly climbed out of the garbage hole, found my sisters, and yelled at them. They told me to go shower. I did. When finished I found out my sisters had driven away to avoid my anger. I set out after them on foot.

Morning of August 9, 2018. Thursday.

Reading time: 2 min 20 sec. Readability score: 60.



I naturally flow into the state I call apex lucidity. Usually, though, the state has to be reinitiated by creating and going through a door (or window) that is deemed difficult to open or phase through. (I sometimes end up sliding an entire wall like a sliding door before being fully integrated into this extremely vivid state.)

In this case, I effortlessly slide out of the illusion of my dream-rendered physical body into my apex body. From here, I phase through a window onto the ground outside. I look back through the window. The setting is incorrect in several ways, despite the augmented realism. Firstly, it seems to be the Gellibrand Street apartment in Clayfield, where we have not lived in years (and it has not been there in reality for years). Secondly, it was not possible to look through the window from the ground level at that address. Thirdly, rather than the driveway, it seems more like the space north of the Loomis Street house in America. Fourthly, the bed was never oriented this way as in the dream. The bed’s head was always out from the window, never the side. (Since childhood, my dreams render everything incorrectly in as many different ways as possible other than literally prescient threads, which makes me wonder why anyone would bother with “interpretation” in the typical use of the word, especially as dreams are typically reactive representations of the dream state itself.)

Even so, I keep studying the bed where Zsuzsanna and a baby are sleeping. I keep puzzling over the situation because I do not see my real physical body in the bed (which should be to the right of Zsuzsanna and our baby) as I expect to. It makes me uncertain, and I question if I am “still” in my body and ended up falling out the window in reality. (This makes no sense either, as Zsuzsanna would have been blocking me from rolling over and out the window, so that is already the fifth error here.) I am temporarily absentminded and had already forgotten that my original dream body that I supposedly came out of is not my real body either.

Still, I soon gain back my apex state after this brief lapse. Even so, I feel what seems like an invisible cat wrapping around my left leg, impeding my walking out to the public sidewalk. I consider that one of our cats is probably on my leg in reality as I sleep. (Though this was not the case, it was just illusory.) I try to shake it off without waking myself, and I do, curiously, without a hypnopompic kick resulting. I continue walking into an open area that is more like another place we had lived years ago, on Duffy Street. (As I had written in other entries, walking is more challenging and blissful in apex states than flying is in lower states, one reason being that walking is closer to ordinary consciousness in the highest lucid state with a more defined vestibular system correlation that is not as illusory as flying. Therefore, stable walking signifies far more control of RAS mediation than flying does.)

Soon, I shift into the summoning state of lucidity as typically begins every sleep cycle. About six young, unfamiliar servants walk toward me and coalesce into my dream self. Coming out instantly at that point, I decide not to return. I feel energized. Once again, I consider how realistic the state is in physicality and overall fullness of self.

---

In the earliest part of the dream I can remember, I'm reading a news article online. It’s about an odd discovery that was recently made—what seemed to be a fossilized person on a bicycle.

I pull up a map website so that I can have a better idea of where the places I’m reading about are. It starts off as a map of Europe—more or less. The only major difference I can remember was seeing a series of small countries along the (more or less) Baltic Coast.

The place I’m interested in is further west of that, around Luxembourg, I'd say. I zoom in until it’s more like looking at a satellite map, and I can see the spot the story is talking about: a place in the woods where the grass gives way to gray rock, and in the rock, the figure of the cyclist can be clearly seen in profile, looking rather cartoonish.

I look up and find I’m not looking at a screen on a computer anymore: I’m actually there in the forest. And there’s only one way that’s possible: I’m dreaming.

The gray rock isn’t there anymore. There’s just forest in every direction—deciduous forest, with foliage that isn’t so thick it blocks out the sunlight. I pick a direction and start walking, not having any particular goal in mind.

The forest is quiet and still: there don’t seem to be any animals around. The only notable feature of this place is the mushrooms I see growing in small groups among the undergrowth every few meters. They’re red with white spots—obviously fly-agaric. I recall a recent discussion on DreamViews about hallucinogens in lucid dreams: what would happen if I ate one? I’ve never been curious enough to try it before—I wasn’t even curious enough to read the thread, for that matter—but here they are, and here I am. Guess I’m going to find out.

I get down close to a group of them, pull a piece off a small one and put it in my mouth. But then I see that the mushrooms aren’t mushrooms anymore: they’re red flowers now, poppies by the looks of it. Still in an experimental frame of mind, I pull off some petals and chew on them. They’re completely flavorless and slightly cool. It is an extraordinarily realistic experience of eating flower petals.

Shortly afterwards, I wake up.

(7.8.18)

I am buying something at Total Wine (It looks different. As I write this I realize it looks long and dim, like Moose McGillycuddy’s from last night. The lady behind the counter also looks like the lady who was behind the bar - sort of heavyset but not chunky, with thicker, dark hair). The lady looks at my ID and asks if I’m 21. I tell her ‘yeah’, the intonation being one of ‘yeah, I know I still am’ in a slightly playful way. She, upon this confirmation, goes to get something. She comes back with a Dr. Pepper can that has an incision almost all the way around the rim and places it on the darker wood counter. After she give me a ping pong ball, I remove the top section of the can and proceed to toss the ball into it on my first attempt. Now there is a small fruit (looks like a cantaloupe, but much smaller and egg shaped) that is hollowed out, with the top sliced off, so it is like a cup. I go to throw the ball into it, but it bounces off the rim.


I am inside of a room. It is larger and square. It seems to be darker wood and empty. The wall closest to the entrance (to its right) has a counter where food is served. There is a line, wrapping counter clockwise around the room. Everyone in line seems to be familiar. Nelson and Crozby's dad is here with the both of them. Crozby is being grumpy or something, so I playfully wing and hit her with a bag of bagels or bread. Their dad is telling me that they have to leave soon [something :08] to go to Vegas to see a fight. That is fairly soon - about an hour? and seems like a short time to do what we’re doing here. I think it also takes them a while to get there, which makes sense because they have kids. I now go to the bathroom that is here. It seems like a house’s bathroom (I’m thinking it’s Brian’s house?) I wipe some wet spot off the floor, partially because I am thinking it may be his bathroom. I come back out and am on my way back to my spot when I see Adam is here with a bunch of baby chicks and one protective mother. They’re on the ground, grouped around the mother. I think there are 13 total. Now I place my order and look to Melissa so she can to. The cahier starts talking though, and sys that Melissa reminds her of her ‘pop’. I look over and Melissa has started crying. She puts her head on my shoulder and I hug and comfort her. She raises her head, and I see she’s pulled her grey hood over her face and drawn it tight. I think it’s a little childish and silly and don’t think she should even be upset, but still sympathize and am sad that she is. Later, I am driving and take a snapchat of the road. It’s going to be for her and I’m going to add text that says sometimes people just see certain similarities and it doesn’t necessarily mean you look like that person. I don’t think I finish typing it [it feels like I wake up during this part].

I am in some room that is fairly large and open feeling. I’m not sure if it’s 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 she’s drunk. I think it actually reads ‘dunk’ 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 it’s 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 I’m 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. There’s 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 Max’s 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 I’m just about to pass them though, the girl asks if I’d 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. I’m thinking I’ll be walking the dogs back? so I won’t 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.