non-lucid

22.02.2011

The Girl and the Lynx (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

It's daylight, and I'm walking along a footpath on the University of Missouri campus. This sidewalk passes through some trees in a cove surrounded by three buildings; off to my right is the Chemistry building that I know well from childhood.

There's a girl with me; I have no idea who she is, and indeed I don't even recall what she looks like or what name she goes by. But we are walking together, side by side, and she is important for some reason.

As we near the trees, the girl spots a White Hawk resting on some low-lying branches overhead. I tell her that the Hawk has lived here for years (a dream memory), and the girl seems to agree that this must be the case. I walk carefully as we pass under the branches.

The path now passes between two buildings; up ahead is an open grassy area where, perhaps 30 meters away, stands the girl's father. At his feat lies a Lynx or young Lion, I cannot determine which, exactly. The girl steps forward towards her dad, and I follow closely behind. Her dad seems quite nice, and we all chat for a few minutes.

My attention, however, is fixated on that big, wild cat at our feet. It bares its long canines to show me that it can tear me to pieces if I make a wrong move. I'd like to think I could fend it off somehow if necessary, but it's probably best to avoid angering it in the first place. I grow wary, but the girl's dad says not to worry, just tread lightly and the cat won't harm me.

I take his advice, and all three of us walk further along the sidewalk to a parking lot where the girl's dad has parked his car. And as we do, I can practically feel the cat's eyes on my back--watching attentively--as I walk away.

When we arrive at the car there is a momentary question of who should take the passenger seat. I offer it up to the girl, but her dad insists I ride up front with him. The dream ends here, but I am left with the weird feeling that I had just been speaking with my dad, though the girl was most certainly not my sister. How strange.

(Wake.)

20.02.2011

A Little Mystery (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

This dream picks up where the last one left off.

There is a lapse in time and now I'm in "my room" in this apartment. I am starting to seriously doubt whether this is actually Phoebe's Upper East Side home or not. I've received a gift from Rose--it's a giftbag with some sort of all natural hand and body cleansers. They're cheap and from Duane Reade, the local convenience store chain. I doubt I'll use them, but I appreciate the friendly gesture. I am puzzled though: is it my birthday? What's the occasion? And how did Rose manage to give these to me? I don't see her here.

I stop trying to figure out these inconsistencies as I feel the urge to go to the bathroom. It's not far, just a few feet down the hall. The interior is painted forest green, and there's loads of lavish decorations all over the walls. It's pretty ridiculous, in my opinion; I couldn't stand living here. At any rate, I take care of business; and as I wash up I look out the West-facing window to see it's a bright sunny day. It feels like morning; I must have slept the night here after dinner [in the previous dream]. There is a grassy lawn a couple stories down, and across the lawn is another redwood-siding apartment building. It occurs to me that this isn't in New York at all; it's in Missouri! This begins to make a little more sense, as I conclude that this is the apartment complex where Rado lives. Through the window on the lawn I can also see a pool where a couple ladies are sunbathing by the side. It looks like a great day, and I want to get some fresh air.

I wonder if Rado is in his apartment, so leaving mine I decide to pay him a visit. First I have to determine if the apartment I just left is in the same building as his. Outside I realize I'm still only in socks; the ground is wet as if from a recent rain, but I'm too eager to move around and so walk down the boardwalk that connects building to building and apartment to apartment.

There are people outside, here; some I know, some I don't. I seem to see Mark but fail to ask what in the world he's doing in Missouri. And after all, I'm too interested in other things to stop and talk.

Across the lawn on another boardwalk are some middle-aged business men in gray suits. I get a pretty nasty vibe from them, even though they're a good 30 or 40 meters away. I can overhear that they're talking about us younger folk. They seem to think we're a bunch of new-age hippie apes. What an exaggeration! I'm far from a hippie, and definitely not an ape. Overhearing them talk about this, though, I'm not offended. Indeed I sort of pity the guys for how self-absorbed and blinded by money they are. Now's not the time, though, to do anything about that. I realize I'm going to need to put some shoes on if I want to find Rado's building, so I dash back down the boardwalk towards the apartment door that I left only a short while before.

Mom and Dad are here just inside the front door of the apartment. They were wondering where I had gone off to; but before they can inquire, somebody is on the phone and wants to speak with me. I immediately and without doubt realize that I am about to speak on the phone with the devil. The evil vibe I got from the business men just moments before explodes into this incredible eery sensation that something super suspicious is afoot.

I cautiously take the phone from my dad and ask him who is on the other line. Apparently I'm about to speak with a certain "Mrs. Brisby."

"Hello, Mrs. Brisby?" I begin.

But to my surprise I hear my grandpa on the other line; he cuts straight to the chase.

"I need you to come over. There's something I have to show you."

I am suspicious. I keep the pretense of speaking to "Mrs. Brisby," but grandpa has none of it. I finally aknowledge that I am speaking to grandpa, or somebody who insists on pretending he is my grandfather.

"It's important, come over right away," he insists.

So I give in; I agree to go over as soon as I have some shoes on, and I hang up the phone.

Mom immediately asks where I had gone off to; I tell her I was just out for a walk. She says everybody was worried, but she knew I'd come back because I "left this"--she shows me my watch--on my dresser. Thankful to have it back, I put my watch on my wrist.

I ask, "What does grandpa want me to see?"

At first Mom says she doesn't know, but after some pressing she says, "It's something [made of] wood, something pretty."

And then I wake.

20.02.2011

The Story Begins (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I appear to be at Andrea's friend Phoebe's Upper East Side apartment for some sort of family dinner. Mom and Dad are here, along with some of my extended family. I've got both my copies of The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali in hand, and I show them to Mom lamenting that I have 500 pages of reading to do in just 36 hours. I check my bookmark, though, and realize I've already read the first 400 pages. I suppose it's easy reading, then.

I'm not certain this is Phoebe's apartment, but it's certainly upscale and elaborately decorated. All of my family is here, but notably Pheobe and her family are not. Meal time comes around and of course there's nothing here for me to eat. The kids (whoever they may be) are getting macaroni; and the adults: some fancy concoction of meat, cheese, and grains.

I go to the dining room and find in the corner a couple serving platters of vegetables. I serve myself some seaweed that looks like long black noodles. I hear mom behind me say something; I don't hear the words clearly but it seems like she's telling me that the food is good.

I wake.

18.02.2011

Mr. Darcy's Project (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I'm in my room on campus, lying on my back in bed. It must be overcast outside, because the morning light is pretty dim coming through the window.

A pleasant Asian girl who I don't really recognize (but she seems familiar for some reason?) steps lightly into my room. I watch her as she crawls up in bed and sits on my legs, facing me. She says it's my birthday. That's cool. I ask her if she'd like to be my birthday present, and apparently she would. We begin to kiss, but then somebody interrupts us.

It's my middle school principal, and he's just walked into my room. He wants to check up on a project he's had me working on lately, and so I reluctantly but dutifully search for some important pertinent documents I've left in my desk. I'm looking for a particular sheet of information that he gave me on a previous meeting, but I can't seem to find it anywhere. Time is running short. A woman's voice calls my name and I wake.