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    The Last Policeman

    by , 10-09-1982 at 04:09 PM (198 Views)
    Morning of October 9, 1982. Saturday.

    I am back in my Cubitis bedroom and I become lucid from an unknown cause (and I eventually shift into apex lucidity) but with a cautious awareness. For a time, I indulge in a lot of different scenes involving several different girls, who, for the most part, otherwise walk around enjoying themselves. I also enjoy developing various geometrical shapes in seemingly new combinations.

    At one point, I fall into focusing on various connecting planes at different angles (for example, a couch, relative to the front at ninety degrees from the seat and how the arms are structured, the three-dimensional surfaces and angles enhancing my interest in dream structures). I also deliberately gaze into the eyes of one unknown female to see if I can see something special, yet all I see are the sort of lightning-like patterns (and sometimes cilia-like forms) that make up the irises and the “oil” which makes up the pupils. Still, I see myself in the pupil, which is mirror-like, the act being similar to looking into a Christmas tree ornament.

    Over time, there are unusual physical effects. It seems as if I have been performing (sexually) for days. In the last segment (as I am thinking of what to do with my dream state and heightened clarity), I notice a dream character that seems to be lurking behind a doorway, but only his arms and hands are in view at first. I see that he is holding and pointing a pistol (though not at me at first as it almost seems that he plans on hiding a little longer). At this point, he is the only dream character other than myself.

    “Come outta there!” I yell as a command.

    “You’re under arrest!” the unfamiliar man addresses me cautiously.

    Believing that I have no use for authority in my own dream, I do a hand motion and make him point the gun to his head but he struggles (and I have to increase my own will over the scene almost as if he has his own will power), saying “No, no, wait, I have something important to tell you!” Just as I am about to eliminate him (or feel that I could), I change my mind. Instead, I pause and decide to listen, because he almost seems a part of me. I get the impression that he is the last policeman to exist in “this world”.

    I stand near the center of the living room, facing west (towards my bedroom doorway). He faces me, though a bit to my left. He lowers his gun and starts talking to me about my father (who had died on Valentine’s Day in 1979). (On one level, I seem to be aware of what he is going to say as if there is some sort of “automatic agreement”.) I realize that there had been guilt at not having performed in public with my father (or even being in the audience) at his last music venue. This seems somewhat profound, especially as the last words I ever heard him say (prior to his leaving to perform at the venue) “I sure wish you’d come with me”. Not feeling the connection to people or the interest to entertain or please them (aside from feeling out of place and uneasy in front of people at times), I did not have enough willpower to go. That was his last concert and in the middle, the very last words he said (to his audience), “looks like you’re going to have to play the jukebox from now on”.

    From here, the policeman now seems sort of scruffy. He also now appears to be only about half my height. Still, he seems more relaxed with me. As he is looking down at the floor, he says “It’s time for a new movie”, what I take to mean a release of any and all guilt related to my father and how I was not with him in his last conscious moments, as he had in his own subtle way hinted at before leaving the house.

    This lucid dream had likely gone on a bit too long (as biologically, a dreamer must eventually wake). The personified preconscious is eventually rendered (via the emergent consciousness) and “arrests” me, though there is still some unusual trailing conversation. One of the meanings of “It’s time for a new movie” could actually mean that it is time to wake to dream again at a later date, though it may also relate to not replaying the reality-based “mental movie” of guilt concerning my father.

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    Updated 03-13-2017 at 09:27 AM by 1390

    lucid , memorable