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    Lucid Dreams

    1. Alas! The WILD

      by , 07-28-2012 at 06:56 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I finally succeed in WILD which was not wild at all. ^_^
      I did not expect it to happen.
      Last night I was very tired and slept late,
      But I strongly will myself to wake up between binaural beats.

      I must had been between sleep and awaken; a drowsy stage.

      I was in a mustard seed coloured room.
      I quickly did RC; bending my right hand, plugging my nose and looking at my cellp…
      It was not there.
      My smart phone with a little fur attached to it was not there.
      So I knew this must be a dream.

      After all…… I was floating.

      This is THE first time to realize I am dreaming.
      Like a person who first encountered a concept of internet,
      I was thrilled.
      I can ‘think’ as if in real life! This IS a revelation!

      However I did not want my excitement to ruin this new experience,
      So I calmed myself down.

      I moved slowly towards a ceiling with a little shelf painted in white.
      There were pottery dolls; delicate and fragile, but pretty.
      I saw them at Costco.
      They were twinkling and shining.

      I wanted to try summoning my imaginary character,
      But I must have thought too hazily. I could not do it.
      On a side of the wall, I tried drawing a window with my finger.

      I noticed a weird sensation.
      I could think fast, but my body moved like scrolling a slow moving mouse; stifling a user.

      I failed my task.
      Probably because I did not know how my imaginary character would look like.
      Not enough imagination and clarity, I stated.

      I opened my eyes from sleeping.
      It was still a middle of night, I could try another dream.
      Unfortunately I was too well asleep after that.

      But it was a nice dream.
      Tags: first wild
      lucid , memorable , dream fragment
    2. A Blind Helper

      by , 07-14-2012 at 04:38 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I went to an art fair which was more like a competition between two people; comparing who creates better and faster arts in restricted time. I need to make 3-4 pieces of arts in one theme with restricted materials; paint, pastels, crayons, few fabrics and markers. It was a long, time consuming fair that bored everyone except competitors; me and a lady dressed in a white one-piece outfit.
      The lady had a theme of Cinderella and I had Snow White. I quickly had a glimpse of her painting. She’s painting a scene where Cinderella is wearing a passionate red dress, dancing the tango with a prince with manly mustache. She was blossoming white foam like frill dress from her milky hands; decorating her inner skirt, like a seductive rose.

      Hey, wake up~

      How did he even sense me? This blind old man seems to have a superpower.
      There is a unique system in this fair called Helper. They are an adviser, watcher, supervisor and helper for artist who will assist beside till the end of the competition. Helper over there looks a bit clumsy, but is a ‘normal’ person; carefully advising, where as mine is a blind old man. I do not have anything against blind people, but… a blind helper in an ‘art fair’?

      Wait… … maybe he’s Jedi Master… …

      I have two more pieces to go, but not enough time. The lady has only one more to go… I’m in hurry. At this point I need someone to finish this. So I asked him for help.

      He snorted with squinting eyes, and said.

      You do it.

      Updated 07-18-2012 at 09:40 PM by 54881

      Tags: blind helper
      lucid , non-lucid , memorable , dream fragment
    3. A Girl Who Lives in a Computer Room

      by , 07-13-2012 at 03:43 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      Whenever villagers are in trouble, they would always say, “Talk to THE girl.”

      Everyone in a neighborhood knows about an orphan girl who lives alone in a dark but warm basement. She is scared of going outside, so she spends her life in a cozy prison she called ‘house.’ Little kids around and adults alike, visit her ant like house occasionally to play computer. She has a room full of computers; she charges 10 bucks an hour of computer time as a way to make her living. People feel comfort, the kind you can have only in a mother’s womb while staying in her house. Probably because the girl with a mood of sweet loving sponge cake, greets everyone with a delightful smile of welcome. People who are tired from their life or in grief volunteer to stay in her house, cleaning.

      She is not alone; there are always computer geeks; who have fragile hearts, for accompaniment. They are the kind of people who like to be secluded from the world; seeing only through a small window called a screen. They each had their own story of being abandoned, of being hurt by the ‘scary’ outside world, full of predators. Everyone has their own vulnerable spot which was fully accepted by the girl who has the special talent; listening.

      She has an extraordinary communication style which allows each one of them to talk from his or her heart.

      There are not many out there who truly ‘listen’ to such frivolous small stories as she does. The girl has a way of giving a kind interest to anyone needed. It is not that she asked particular questions or talked in a skillful way. She would just quietly sit in a corner, and listen intently with her whole heart, and ‘see’ the person with her big black eyes full of twinkles that seems to contain a part of the universe.
      It does not matter whether a person is a failure or useless, their ruined, painful mind would soon be wide open for the talk. They would reflect themselves; unconsciously, like a mirror. They realize its own problems which are laid within oneself, and are derived to change positively.

      All the while the girl just magically ‘listens.’

      The person would peek one’s face behind a door, still afraid, and slowly but eventually would open his mind little by little, without one’s notice. A talk will shyly start with one’s recent complaint or negative grumble, and then the person would gain confidence step by step to somehow bravely think of a bright resolution that he never thought of before. Unhappy and stressful person tired of the world would slowly regain their energy, becoming brighter with hope. It is truly amazing to see the process of a shivering and miserable child coming out of a shell as fully grown and bright ‘true self.’

      The funny thing is… she is not cognitive to this power. The action is out from her unconscious; her loving heart to genuinely care for each individual, offering help. She is a typical girl who would not stand out in any group. She has her own problem as well.

      It was late at night. She was making a snack that would bring more joy to everyone. She heard few faint knock on a door.

      She smiled, ‘Probably a USB left by Rob.’

      As she was about to open, she noticed pastel coloured letters attached to the door. She could not figure out the writings in darkness, so she lit up a light for a better view.

      They were…… thank you letters, encouraging words. From people she unconsciously helped.

      Tears gathered in her eyes. She is touched by such… … such kindness.
      ‘The world is brighter than I thought.’

      She can not exactly spot a moment when she first started feeling hesitant to go outside.
      She was raised by a single mother who devoted her entire life trying to create the ‘perfect’ music. The mother had lost her almost perfect son, killed by asthma. The sorrow made the mother obsess over her new born girl whose life was set to become the greatest musician the world has ever known.

      The girl was a living puppet; following orders and lessons automatically, she would get severely punished for any kinds of mistake. Spanking to shivering and standing nakedly outside. Discontent was not an option for the piteous little girl. How could she ever ‘trust’ someone while her own mother hates her? She chose to suffer in silence, which her mother thought was the only thing she’s good at. The girl got more terrified with her sparrow like singing always negatively criticized by her mother.
      It was like any other monotone day, the girl received a phone call of her mother’s death; from an accidental car crash. The orphan girl never left the house ever since; resting… … till this day.

      She made a firm promise with tightly gripped hands, and finally spoke something she has not done these past few years; with her beautiful, rhythmic voice, “I will see the light of tomorrow.”

      Updated 07-18-2012 at 09:41 PM by 54881

      memorable , dream fragment , lucid , non-lucid
    4. A Fish in a Tank

      by , 07-12-2012 at 12:06 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I am in a basement school of laboratory. The subterranean labs are not as gloomy, dark, terrifying like as in a horror fiction, but had an atmosphere of my old high school. Light brown tiles with bright white fluorescents light. Scientists and doctors are like teachers. Well… let’s face it; they are ‘teachers.’

      Children subjected to experiments act like normal school students (It is true that those who are talented in science and math are groomed to be one of the ‘teachers’; experimenting other children.) and respect those who treat them like a lab rat.
      My talent in every report card are marked somewhere in middle. But the repulsiveness I feel as I pass the classroom full of red, blood-shot-eyes students cannot help it. I guess my dream self is damned at science as in real life, so I’d position myself below the average.

      Inferior or ‘bad’ students living and studying under this massive lab are punished. It is not that painful or agonizing punishment to be honest. Students are kept captive from doing any farther misbehavior by putting some kind of weird cords all over the body and meekly held upside down in a green, fluid filled glass like a frog pickled with formalin. I do not have a memory of letting myself to such chopping board, so I think I was one of the obedient kids.

      Every student is born from the lab. Some of them are ‘Bad Seeds’ (as ‘teacher’ stated) from their time of birth. They are characterized with aggressive personalities. No one knows if it were from the genetic misplacement or from the accidental experiments, which happens quiet often. But ‘Bad Seeds’ cause a lot of trouble. It is said, they would explode their selfish stress out by howling and destructing materials like a beast, threatening a poor book warms shivering like scared herbivores, disrespectful to ‘teachers,’ and the list is endless.

      It was out by a coincident. I was absent mindedly cautiously carrying my pretty fish placed in a tank, when two scientists passing a hallway, arguing (or croaking) loudly about expelling a ‘Bad Seed.’ They are sending (disposing) an 8-years-old troublesome kid (who has no need for them). The boy has spent his entire life as a subject, so he’s just an innocent baby not knowing about a dark world. Are they sending him to dangerous outside? Not caring of his safety?

      Unfortunately they were not concerned about the human rights, but croaking about the danger ‘teachers’ would get from sending a ‘Bad Seed’ to a civil society. That ‘Seed’ is exceptionally smart and viciously evil compare to other civilians. Instead of freeing a beast among deer, we should silently ki….l…

      As a brown haired scientist with glasses reveals his dark treachery, I was casually passing them, he gave me a quick look and tried to resume, which was blocked by an old (probably his superior) ‘teacher.’
      I take Curiosity? Probably useless sympathy … anyway an interest towards the kid. Underage, little kid is about to be disposed to the ‘outside’ world. I stared at my red scaled fish. It has a character of its master; not swimming, but gently floating like a primed lady, acting like a stuffed animal……. Is it dead?

      I tapped lightly of a cylinder that has nothing but transparent clear water. The fish lazily swayed its tail in such a slow motion, I yawned.

      Tut… … Pretty, but a flabby fish.

      I walked towards a suspension (laboratory) room for the little kid. Probably for the pea-sized guilt they had… experimenting underage children… the room was placed at the far end corner of a hallway inside a room. Just before I went for the door, there were white lockers with locks placed beside it. There were four (read) stylish (but say wicked) girls abruptly end their conversation and stare at me. Are they my friends?

      They are nervously fidgeting around a stair (structured like one you could see in a subway station), looking for a chance to get ‘outside,’ breaking rules. They had a warning look on their face, scared of me who has a chance to tattle to ‘teachers.’
      Don’t know why they would roam around, looking for danger ‘outside’ in a first place.

      I do not mind their business; I solemnly open a door with no interest. They started chatting in relief.

      The door was connected to another hallway. To the right there is a class with a glass door. They are having a PowerPoint lecture in a dark room, blue lights reflect the passionate students; future maniacs, frantically scribbling their notes. I passed in disgust. I went to the end of the cornered hallway, and slide through the translucence glass door for my final destination.

      The suspension room, or rather the experimental room had hundreds of adult size glass cylinder with green fluid. Inside little children or students about to be born are lifelessly floating upside down; only their even breath shows they are living.

      Air bubbles from their masks disturb their hair, swaying them like seaweed. It was an eerie and a startling sight to see breathing ‘dolls,’ faintly lit by a green light, but also makes me wonder about their dream from their calm… soothing face.

      “Here for the punishment? Wait here; I just have one for you.”

      I’m not really here for the punishment, but I did not stop ‘teachers,’ automatically working like robots. For I did not had any excuse for being here, and I did want to have a punishment I have never experienced. Floating upside down… disregarding laws of physics… looks fun. As I was surveying around, I encountered the boy who poked my curiosity.

      Our eyes met for a moment.

      Are we fighting or what? As we are studying each other, the kid gave ‘I have a temper,’ frown and give a shift turn on his neck to side.
      I win ^^

      He had impressive black ink like hair and eyes. He had wrinkled skin showing that he had just got out from that cylinder, wet like a new born baby. Assistant were drying him with a white towel. I secretly worried about his future; his cute chubby cheeks will trouble him someday. ‘Tut, tut… that cuteness will thin out in your near future.’ As he lazily supporting himself by assistance; narrowly balancing, I could not identify any signs of ‘Bad Seed,’

      The 'suspension' room has similar atmosphere as this picture

      Updated 07-12-2012 at 12:50 PM by 54881

      Tags: fish tank
      lucid , non-lucid , memorable , dream fragment
    5. Hunger Game in a Sin City

      by , 07-11-2012 at 02:13 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I’m having nightmares nowadays. It’s not encountering some vicious animals or dark things, but I often get very sick which is unpleasant.
      First of all, I have never watched a movie or read a book about a hunger game; only seen a trailer from Youtube. It’s amazing how it got into my dream like that.

      I opened my eyes… to see a white ceiling, and a desperate looking man, who calls himself ‘dad.’ He really seems to care dearly for his daughter, who supposedly is me. I am confused… it just… I don’t think I am a daughter who he thinks I am.
      ‘Dad’ went out for a cup of coffee.
      I tried talking to him; say I don’t know who he was, but my voice wheezed out as if I’m having a very bad flu.
      I got dumbfounded for a moment till I felt a sudden excruciating pain from my right hand… it…
      It was not there. It was……………Amputated…
      What used to be my right hand becomes a dark purplish flesh… rotting.


      There was a white card with a red cross on the top left corner. There were four blue lights, flickering.
      ● Level 5
      ○ 30:02 left
      ● your presence is detected by a hunter 10m
      ● your prey is detected 150m
      There was a digital google-map, showing other players; preys and hunters, around me.

      Kill or be killed.
      Only hunters and the prey carry a white card, we are the only ones knowing in this sin city… the rest of the earth is oblivious.
      I have to kill the prey while avoiding a hunter; trying to kill me, within this time or I will be degraded to a lower level, gaining more bloodthirsty hunters with higher level. If I kill the prey within a time, I will get more time for the next prey and get useful harnesses; weapons, wider range of google-map and so on.
      The top of the food chain is level 20. At that point he/she will be like a lazy sublime jaguar hunting and resting as much as it likes.
      No one knows who is a hunter or a prey in a mass crowd except for a dot showing on the map and viewers. Viewers are on the other planet with sneering smirks, watching and eating popcorns, of this real-life city of jungle; overflowing blood and massacres. It is horrifying and the most disgusting game in my life. I wonder what kind of insane psychopathic alien freak would create ‘this’ kind of game in a first place.

      I’m now in a restaurant with ‘Dad,’ he is feeding me a meatball. So far he has no signs of being my predator, but genuinely cares for me. I feel a little sorry for him. After all he is an innocent civilian who happens to be stuck in a disaster, and he doesn’t know his ‘daughter’ is not someone he knows. He is unknowingly taking an extreme danger for giving me some kind of a glass like protection.
      As I blew a balloon out of my chewing gum, a mysterious looking woman with sunglasses and a black suit, walks toward me and sits across my table… She is introduced that she is a very close friend of ‘dad.’ She might be a watcher sent by a freak. Need to evacuate immediately.

      ‘Nice meeting you ‘dad.’’

      I excused myself for a washroom break; her sunglasses reflected a white light from a ceiling. As I casually pass behind her, I flicked a gum on back of her hair.

      ‘Better shave your hair Miss.’
      I heard a sharp shriek behind a closing door and smirked.


      I stumbled from shaky legs. I feel very dizzy with a high fever; to the point I see a world in a whirl circle, but can barely feel pain from it. A painkiller or whatever drugs ‘dad’ used is strongly effective indeed. It is strange… to sense that I ‘have’ a right hand… as if it’s only made out of soul, but not flesh.

      I need to hide somewhere… quick. I did not kill or attempt to look for my prey, so I am now dropped to level 0; whoever kills me will increase their level two times plus a special prize.
      I decided to hide in a midst of school parade practice. Everyone is on the field. All lined up horizontally and vertically following moves from a person in front like an army. I rest along the side, under a tree shade, where I met my childhood friend Purple.
      It is time…

      Avoiding looking directly at her face, I normally asked “here for the hunt?”
      She did not answer; I can almost feel her eyes burning across my face. Nevertheless I continued,

      “It’s scary… one moment you are just a student like they are, and next… everyone, aliens, hunters and governments alike are looking for you like I’m some kind of a living chocolate.”

      She shuts her mouth tightly, so I gather up my courage and cautiously hand her my right hand, feasting with fleas. She did not take it… my middle fingertip broke into black ashes.

      Purple stared at me, “God is everywhere.”

      I sigh… I’m talking to a wall,
      “I do not believe in alien freaks,”
      I heard everyone holding their breath with surprise.

      Awkward silent filled the air.

      Everyone… students, teachers, walking civilians, birds, ants… hundreds, thousands of them… everyone… gave me a cold look at the same time. I flinched back a little… they look… possessed. They all have a purple smudge on their lips as if they carelessly had a poisonous cake.

      A student with a Santa suit, hurled towards me with a drunken deer; it too had a purple smudge.
      I snorted with disgust. I did not come to my deathbed, unprepared.

      “Early present for Christmas.”

      I closed my eyes and threw my right hand high above the air.



      Updated 07-11-2012 at 02:30 PM by 54881

      lucid , non-lucid , nightmare , memorable , dream fragment
    6. All Alone

      by , 07-11-2012 at 03:31 AM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I don’t recall a time I was NOT alone
      It’s just me, by myself.
      All alone in this big, dark chamber,
      Is anyone there?

      Only an echo responds like a mirror.
    7. Humpty Dumpty

      by , 07-10-2012 at 11:18 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      Humpty Dumpty sat on the highest building, looking down.
      He saw the twinkling lights from the city like stars
      “I feel like an angel.”

      He spotted two homeless teenagers; wondering.
      A small one of the sibling looks up and shouted.
      “Hey, there’s a dude trying to commit suicide!”
      He continuously poked his ignorant brother in hurry.
      “Hey! Look up!”

      A weary brother had a hungry look;
      He tiredly shook his head, saying
      “It’s for a trend.”

      His little brother stared at him in disbelief
      ‘I thought you’re my hero, bro.’
      Nevertheless he repeatedly persisted,
      “Save him!”

      Humpty Dumpty smiled warmly
      Good people shine the world brightly

      Just then, the older one flared back,
      “Why? We don’t even have a place to sleep, back off.”

      Maybe I could help them with good deeds.

      Little Munchkin had a mysterious treachery,
      “Let’s charge him.”


      The brat smiled viciously
      “For saving his life.”

      Updated 07-11-2012 at 03:57 AM by 54881

      lucid , non-lucid , memorable , dream fragment
    8. Time Stopped Party Room beyond a Glass Wall

      by , 07-08-2012 at 03:42 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      Gloomy gray sky is heavily pouring
      I’m grouping with tourists; wearing a cheap yellow raincoat, and head towards the next sight.

      I guess I was stuck in a room too long…
      My friends hurled in, dragging or rather kidnapping me to this dismal ‘outdoor’ tour.

      Old artifacts with interesting histories are shown beside a lake wharf.
      Must have been something if not are for this damned weather.

      Why touring in this thunderstorm?

      Flap, flap
      A strong rainstorm makes it hard to keep my eyes open.
      My snickers are sloppy wet, and my clothes are soaking; cold and discomforting.
      It is outrageous!!!
      I want to go home~~!! Rolling and reading books and eating tangerines
      I want to be LAZY~~!!

      “Wedgie eee ~~ Ha Ha Ha”

      My blood pressure… my vain… is sky rocketing.
      My demonic friend is laughing so gaily… Tease-ya! Tease-ya! … With his Youth Power

      I push so-called Baldy into the dark lake.
      (I did not forget to give a forgiving Buddha smile)

      “Eh? SPLASH~ Ark~~!! Help~ Help me~”

      Get that~ loser (^_^)
      I feel much lighter seeing him desperately trying to get out of that wild lake.

      Passing such frivolous episode,
      In this chaotic, mind-blowing weather, I endlessly followed the person in front of me.

      Then I see… the most peculiar show-case.
      Glass beyond this gray horrifying weather… shows a totally different world.
      Feels like looking into a warm, cozy café in a freezing winter storm.

      It looks as if… it’s from other unknown dimension,
      Somewhere not in this timeline.

      People are having an outdoor party in one warm spring day.
      Everyone, including a butterfly, is frozen with its warm sunny light
      As if they are in a ‘stop motion’ spell.

      Our guide says they are made out of wax,
      But it looks too real, too lively.

      Seems as if even airs stop motioning
      A little child chasing a puppy,
      His clothes are gently touched by a gentle wind.

      A group of high-class ladies wearing light, clean clothes
      Sit on an old couch,
      Giggling and laughing about the newest fashion.
      Are stopped

      Gentlemen carrying their pipes, steaming with smoke
      Sit around a glass table, playing cards

      A submissive servant serves lemonade
      To a gentleman with a beard of Charlie Chaplin

      In this wonderful, almost perfect, scene,
      There is a strange man who seems to be out of the picture.

      He looks as if he is out casting the world,
      Like an ugly duckling, he blankly stands alone in a corner,
      Carrying his antique watch.

      He certainly is no different from those gentlemen.
      He wears old-fashion but clean suits with his whiskers.
      Except for the fact he doesn’t looks sociable, he ‘is’ one of them.
      But he is coldly ‘gazing’ at the whole scene… like us… the tourist.

      A sudden question arises; did he bewitch them?

      Anyway I wonder when they would wake up.
      Everyone is playing Ice~!!
      So I’d like to CRACK them free~ (he he)

      Like ducklings following its parents
      Keeping a line and orders
      Others have faintly wobbled their ways with Guide

      I am still thinking… deeply
      And end up missing the crowd in this midst of terrifying storm.

      Hmm…. this might be a 3D version of a picture… maybe…
      It’s a sight reminding me Sleeping Beauty.

      Someone tap lightly on my shoulder,
      Calling me; Hey~
      With husky voice is my long lost Baldy.

      Somehow soaked to his bones like sunken mice
      Shivering with a pale face
      Poking my guilt conscious.

      He is covered with seaweed and has no right shoe,
      Wearing only a wet sock.

      “Let’s get inside.”
      I bundled him with my raincoat and pushed in the opposite direction
      Of where others have gone to.

      But he would not budge.

      Does he still want to tour? I glared at him with frustration.

      I flinch back a little… somehow he has a cold look
      Without any warning… he pushes me hard…
      Toward the glass wall…

      Shockingly… I went through the glass wall… without any resistance…

      I confusingly stare at him. What was that for?
      Then he gave the most spiteful smile I’ve ever seen and said,



      Updated 07-11-2012 at 03:42 AM by 54881

      memorable , dream fragment , lucid , non-lucid , nightmare
    9. Explosion and THE first Sleep Paralyze

      by , 07-07-2012 at 05:26 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I am so excited ~~!!
      The first SP in my whole entire life (hurray~)

      I was with my friend in a little shop; selling different kinds of instant snacks. We were eating and talking when a delusional guy (shameful to admit that he is one of my friends) used a fire stick to start heating a propane gas insulator…….. for fun~! (He was very thrilled to see the explosion) (He was gone with the bang)

      Obviously my first initial reaction was to run away from him and that vicious gas insulator.
      But…… I was too late.


      I felt the explosion hitting and burning my back, and slam~
      I went face front to a rock hard surface (It was painful)
      In that moment, I faintly heard an alarm clock (in a real world), but couldn’t wake up.
      The shock and the black chocking smoke troubled my breathing. I felt a streaming blood from my nostril.
      I was badly injured. I heard mixture of screaming and shouting slowly fading away.

      Everything went comfortingly quiet.

      I slimly open my dream eyes and saw… this whirlpool of different mixture of green, red, blue and other countless number of colours distorting my view…………….. Am I dead?

      I was confused for a moment, but what really baffled me was my stun body, not moving, from exact position of falling. My body was like a prison, trapping me. I was amazed with such peculiar experience and…… enjoyed.

      When I woke up, I found myself face down to my pillow, probably that’s why I couldn’t move at all.

      Updated 07-11-2012 at 03:37 AM by 54881

      lucid , non-lucid , nightmare , memorable
    10. A Robot? SOS from Maniacs

      by , 07-06-2012 at 04:15 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      One night,
      I was all alone in a dark room
      Dad’s outside searching; I sigh in relief.

      If he sees me,
      He will torture me with his unreasonable, nasty talk
      For sure.

      I cross my fingers and twitted to my friends.

      Top of the Mt. too sick to get down

      They must hurry, or
      I WILL be… … doomed forever.

      As the clock ticks to every seconds
      Dark shadows; unspoken fear and a ‘black thing,’
      Eats away my existence.

      My soul, my body, my life, and my mentality,
      Drifts away with closing eyelids

      Am I… running…?

      My identical twin almost flying at an inhuman speed,
      Carrying me on her back,
      She gives an enormous leap.
      Like a robot…

      Mental demolition

      As she turns her head towards me,
      Her long ponytail slaps me across my cheek,
      Leaving a red mark.

      FIGHT! What? FIGHT!
      I am still dumbfounded with this whole situation,
      But as I slowly look around
      Twelve maniacs run like bunch of zombies;
      Trying to exterminate my existence.

      Identify weapons, processing… …
      Two axes, six guns, one fire hose, five grenades, eight knifes.
      Condition; extremely dangerous.
      Need to evacuate imme… …

      Stop talking!

      … … Did I just say… …

      Push escape! Escape! Escape!

      A monster with no pupil roars and…
      Are they trying to eat me alive?

      Threat of life automatically allow my finger to push
      The ESC button from my computerize vision.

      Like a gust of wind dispersing a cloud of dust,
      That ‘thing’ disappears from its feet.

      The rest of them flinch back a little with growl and
      Share some eye contacts with each other.

      Capable of making rational decisions
      Danger level increase by 0.87 perce…n
      Wake UP!

      I can all see their blue website links
      They gradually encircle us into a corner.
      But I know how to erase them.

      Click, click, click
      The more I press the super, ultimate keyboard,
      The more their blue link turns black and

      Bye ~

      Updated 07-11-2012 at 04:13 AM by 54881

      nightmare , memorable , dream fragment , lucid , non-lucid
    11. Kyo-Mu for My Life

      by , 07-05-2012 at 03:46 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      An impudent princess stands imposingly with a long thorny whip.
      “Give me your ring or I’ll kill you.”

      Basement with no exit, everywhere except where the princess poses is covered with somber grey cement.
      But most of all… I will die with one flick of that horrifying whip.
      Ok, got the circumstance.

      I give a servile tradesman’s smile,
      “Of course your highness.”
      I’m not shooting the Lord of the Rings, so I will give as much of this damn ring as she wants to escape from this extremely frustrating moment of my life.

      But still... …
      With much tender love and care…
      I’ve been keeping this for a long time…
      Well… farewell my friend.

      Before her whimsical mind devours her,
      I nimbly and cautiously hand her the green glowing ring.

      “Don’t need it ~★”
      Such an indiscreet princess! Pitches it to the rock hard surface.
      She expects a vexed expression, but only gets my stunning look of blank dismay.
      The capricious princess sigh in disappointment and continues,

      “I’ll give you Kyo-Mu instead.”
      I can feel a sudden burst of anger right up to my throat, flaring.
      But I quickly hide them with a poker face from her Sadistic hobby.

      By that way what’s a Kyo-Mu, she’s carelessly throwing away?
      As if to answer my question, the princess adds,

      “It’s yours now.”

      Selfish brat! You think I don’t know that? <-- Communicating with eyes of course

      Trying to detect any monkey business,
      I give her a full of suspicion look, only to get
      ‘My hand hurt, hurry up,’
      Unconcerned, ignorant look.

      I quietly receive some black ash looking stuff from her.
      It’s the form of a black chick, eating a star candy from Spirited Away
      So small~ it fills my right palm with satisfaction; Blacky is so cute~ ♡

      It plainly stares at me with a round, moist filled eyes

      “Your name is Kyo, Kyo from Kyo-Mu.”

      It seems to stimulate my pea-size
      Motherly love.

      Writing down your dreams... in your dream.-.jpg

      Updated 07-11-2012 at 02:15 PM by 54881

      lucid , non-lucid , memorable , dream fragment
    12. Facing fear in a dream

      by , 07-05-2012 at 03:41 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)
      I saw my fear of going to university... Not making any friends OTL.
      It is for the first year students. For the first two weeks, we were familiarize ourself to university by
      routinely doing things as a group (eating luch, going around classes like a pre school student)
      (chicks following a duck)
      As I pass a classroom, I spoted one of my best friend. She was focused on her studying.
      At a lunch time. 1st year student had to eat lunch in this very dark and deep pit-hole looking tower
      (That seems to have no end to it) I didn't realize it was a prank, so me and my other friends
      sat in one of the brightest looking spot... As I was eating rice... I got scared of the pit hole ...
      It looked like a hell's gate... warm, moist filled air swooped with some disgusting smell of garbages...
      It was just ... unpleasant.
      I kept on shaking on my chopstick and end of spreading all my rice on everywhere, including on my friends' lap...
      They got sick of it... and try not to talk to me afterward... (made me feel abandoned... behind a group)

      As I reflecting on my dream, I realize it was a fear I have, going to university... where I do no know anyone.
      That fear allows me to avoid anything involving the university (making a timetable... keeping a deadline)
      It's also one of my biggest stress... which makes me even hard to LD.

      "You need to be awake in a real life, to be awake in your sleep."

      I need to face this fear for my sake to have a nice LD.
    13. Wisdom from a Devil and an Old Man

      by , 07-04-2012 at 09:59 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I found this beautiful dream in Korean.... So I'm translating this right here ^_^

      The air was crispy clear,
      I was flying sky high like a free bird.
      Floating with fluffy clouds,
      A blue light shot from the ground.

      A pub with a cowboy atmosphere,
      I looked around to see an old man and a devil;
      Pointy ears and pointy teeth.

      They were casually talking and drinking,
      Like old friends.

      I had a sudden feeling that
      They might solve a question I longed to figure.

      I made my mind and approached to a devil.
      The devil stared at me; a passionate red light embracing me.
      The devil opened his mouth and spoke;

      “Do not try to find meaning in your life.
      Meaning generates infinite riddles with no answers.
      You have a heart; do what you ‘feel’ like.
      That is a sole purpose, a duty in your life.”

      It is the devil’s advice,
      Unreasonable offence engulfed the wisdom.
      I talked to the old man, watching;
      The old man stared at me; a knowledgeable purple light embracing me.
      The old man opened his mouth and spoke;

      “What are you worrying about?
      Act as you feel like,
      Do not worry about the result ahead.
      Reflect once you get there.
      You are the one who perceive with action.”

      I take a memo of their wisdom,
      An answer might have stayed within my deep conscious.
      It was a good dream.

      Dreams reflect our subconscious; results of the same dream can be completely deferred by situation and a person. It needs intuition and a conscious trust to interpret them.
      Flying the sky is the new start with new vision. The blue light shot from the ground forced ‘me’ to face the reality; the pub.
      The old man and the devil talking is a coexistence of emotion and wisdom.
      The old man is wisdom and intelligence, a devil is a repulsive resistance against reality.
      The red light is passion. The devil’s talk is not a belief or a notion, but chants for exposing an emotion, a life and a red passion. The purple light is wisdom, urging ‘me’ to focus on the action more than a mere thought.

      Updated 07-11-2012 at 04:09 AM by 54881

      lucid , non-lucid , memorable , dream fragment , side notes
    14. A Nightmare at 7… Why Did I Cry?

      by , 07-04-2012 at 09:50 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      I still clearly remember a nightmare
      I had at the age of seven.

      A dusty basement surrounded with gray walls.
      A very old wooden chair; making a creaking sound,
      Stood alone in the middle of a barren room.

      There was a little bar at a ceiling,
      Showing a handful of light,
      Strangely lighting the raggedy old chair
      Like a spot light.

      I was at the corner of the dark room, crouching.
      Watching the whole scene without motion.

      A gust of dry wind gave me goose bumps.
      I felt loneliness, sadness
      In a queerly jailed like space.

      I was… … crying.

      The dream was not scary, but my mother told me I was shouting…
      I stated the dream as a nightmare for tears. But it still makes me wonder…
      Why did I cry?

      Updated 07-11-2012 at 04:08 AM by 54881

      lucid , nightmare , memorable , dream fragment
    15. Magic of the Dusk

      by , 06-28-2012 at 04:34 PM (Sleep as a Hobby)

      Once upon a time,
      There was a girl with a heartless soul.
      God gave her beauty, intelligence, a good family… everything except love.
      This ‘almost’ perfect girl with a pretty smile had a grey monotone mind that disgusted other people.

      One day,
      She got sick of her family, staring her like a monster,
      So she ran away.

      Promising herself,
      ‘I will never return home.’

      It was a time when a yellow field filled with dusk
      While watching this gorgeous scenery,
      She hums her favorite tune in a carefree mood.

      A girl who carries nothing,
      ................worries nothing.

      Even the weather seems to praise her freedom.
      A wind filled with spring moist carries a few petals to her cheeks,
      Foxtails tickled her fingertips; she made a crown with white and pink cosmos.

      Like a dapple on a white cloth,
      There is another presence in this picturesque scenery.
      He is the one who calls himself God, whose infinite power cost him to be partially colour blind.

      He cannot sense red.
      For God, the gloomy world is full of dark things; green, blue and black.
      Ironically his favourite moment of the day
      Is a twilight when everything flickers with red.

      Even a poisonous snake looks gorgeous as a part of the scene.

      For God who views only cold things, a time that seems to embrace every nature,
      Gives enormous relaxation that washes all tiredness piled throughout a day.

      The magic happens only once every day,
      So he puts an extreme value to this time.

      It was like every other day,
      Drinking a sourish sweet chamomile and enjoying warmth of the time.

      Then he sees……

      A girl with a white one-piece colored with orange dusk,
      Leisurely skipping and humming at the same time.
      She has the ‘complete’ colour, including red, to decorate her beauty.
      Her curly hair with red light bounces with her footsteps.

      She was …… as if …… caught in the magic…… of dusk.

      Her fair baby-like skin has this attractive, warm light; glowing.
      It was the colour God had never seen in his zillion years.

      It’s warm… Beautiful…
      If there is a goddess, that MUST be her.

      Just in that instant, he falls in love with her.

      She’s mine.

      Her special heartless soul did not matter to the special God.
      He can see it; wide and clear.
      A chocolate coloured sound, beating with soft sugary emotions,
      A red passion that God becomes so attached.

      Without her knowing,
      She became ‘extremely’ valuable to God.

      The God smiled like a fragmented moon and wooed to a trembling girl, who is to become his…

      You may harm the others
      But if you ever dare harming ‘me’

      I will……

      Kill you.

      Updated 10-13-2012 at 02:59 AM by 54881

      dream fragment , side notes , lucid , non-lucid , nightmare , memorable
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