non-lucid

PART 1 - RICH FAMILY PIANO VISIT

I'm visiting some rich, "upper class" family. I don't know how I know them.

There is a mother - 50s, slim, narrow face, short brown cropped hair, well mannered but stern, a cold personality... and a daughter, who looks like someone I very vaguely know IRL.

The house seems to be based on two locations from my past, one from my childhood and one my father's current home. Kind of both at once, as dreams often seem to weirdly do.

I practice on their piano (in the kitchen area from my childhood house)... meanwhile in the next room, the mother is teaching the daughter piano (living room, right across - where there used to actually be a piano IRL).

At one point I crawl into the room toward the corner opposite from them (there is no other furniture other than the piano), where there is a picture of the daughter leaning against the wall on the floor. I "fix" the tilt of the picture. As I do, I'm more or less staring at the daughter. She pretends not to notice.

As I'm crawling back out, I realize that I was staring and that it must have seemed creepy, and think to myself that I should completely ignore the daughter for a while to compensate.

After a while the mother comes in and asks how I'm doing. I pick up on the subtext that it's time for me to go, and say that I was actually just about to head out.

As I'm leaving I notice I'm wearing a bulky green-ish jacket I've borrowed from them. I hesitate, wondering if they'll ask for it back, but suppose they let me keep it for now as it's raining outside.

I think the original reason I borrowed it had something to do with what took place before I arrived, some sense of danger, but can't remember. I remember something about playing in an orchestra...

On my way out (now based on my father's current home), where there is usually a closet by the front door, I notice it's a door into an entire room that is in fact a giant checkers board, with giant checkers pieces to play with and everything.

ANALYSIS

Piano is one of several arts I've been considering to spend my time on while not working on my meditation project, so I'm sure that association is primed in my mind.

Crawling into the room... this could certainly symbolize submitting to their "higher status."

Fixing the tilt of the picture... this could mean trying to improve her self image, perhaps repair damage done by the harsh mother figure.

The checkers room... this could refer to decadence, extravagance, this rich family having a whole room just for checkers.

-----

PART 2 - RAP ALBUM G

I'm talking to my IRL friend G about releasing a rap album. I say that I'm not super motivated to release one at this point, otherwise I would be "working my contacts," that it's "just a hobby right now."

ANALYSIS

Perhaps trying to qualify myself, essentially trying to prove, "I could if I wanted to."

Recently my sleeping pattern has changed for some reason. Before, I was never tired before 3 am and I would often not get tired until as late as 5 or 6. When I slept I often woke up after a dream, letting me write it down to remember it. This could happen several times a night. Now however I get tired at 11 or 12 pm and I get to sleep about 1-2 hours later. I don't wake up after dreams anymore but the last three or four days I have been waking up at ~9 am, remembering dreams but too lazy to get up or write them down. Then I fall asleep again after quite a long time. About one or two hours after this I get up.

Last nights dream:
I was bathing in nydala with some friends. I can't really recall how many we were but Fred was there at least. Suddenly, Kim showed up, lol. I don't know how she appeared. We all got surprised and asked her to join us for some event that was being held at my family's summer house. We swam there and we talked about a swimming technique that consisted of lying on the back while wriggling like a snake kinda. xD It was extremely fast but you could easily lose control and be forced below the surface. We all tried to use it and eventually we got to the summerhouse.

The event was some kind of gathering of random people that did planned stuff. Like some arranged party or something. Most of the people were foreigners. Kim proposed that we all should play some ball game, then she said something to a random dude in fluent german, lol. Everybody (maybe 15 people) lined up for the game in two separate rows facing each other. I think the goal of the game was to throw the ball to each other i between the rows or something.

Before the game started, a arabic looking man came out from the summer house. He was the chef and requested that three volunteers would go and help him prepare the dinner. No one seemed keen to do it because everyone wanted to play the ball game. Then he decided that he should pick three randomly. I knew before that he was going to pick me and I felt a bit disappointed because of it. He did indeed pick me and I went with him to the front porch along with two other randoms that also were unlucky.

We sat down around a table for four people and started to eat dinner (what happened with preparing it? xD). I remember that my friends were all seated at other tables and I wanted to join them, but I was not allowed to. Instead I spoke a bit with the chef guy who looked arabic. The only thing I remember from the conversation is that I asked him what country he came from. Apparently he came from the country "hentai", lol. I recall that I noticed that he expected me to laugh or something, but I didn't because I knew that hentai was also a country and the guy was somewhat impressed that I knew that.

Well, this was a rather interesting dream. For the second night in a row, I was driving in a vehicle. The dream started off on some sort of downwards sloped, dry grassy hill. At this point, I either hopped into, or was placed into (I can't remember which) some sort of short, yellow, semi-fortified vehicle, which reminded me of a smaller, flatter tractor. Once inside, however, it just felt like a normal car. At this point, I started driving up a dirt road, which then led onto a highway, with cars going both directions (i.e., up the hill, and down the hill). It wasn't a winding hill, as such, it was a hill that went straight up, and then followed around a bend. The road for the main part of the hill was a bitchumen road, and the dirt road I was driving on continued upwards, splitting from the bitchumen road, but staying next to it (only difference being that it was rising). At this point, I chose the bitchumen path, which was a wise decision, as tornadoes started to come down the dirt road, from higher up the hill. The majority of them passed by me with little effect, though some of them started to pull on my car quite strongly. I think I recall one of them nearly pulling the car off the road, though I'm not entirely sure. My memory is blank until the next event:

This is a bit vague, but I recall being back on the original grassy hill again. My cousin was there, and I think there was some sort of watchtower. He was also in a vehicle, though the seemed much smaller now - kind of like vehicles that you could wear around your waist, but still drive. I don't recall much more, except that there was a third person there, and my cousin was at one point significantly taller than I was (in his vehicle), and there were spiders dropping off him and onto the ground, and onto me - possibly biting me, but I'm not sure. It was at this point that the mild panic and fear caused me to wake up in quite a groggy state.

This put the following idea into my mind - breathing based Reality Checks. Breathing is obviously one of those muscles that are both involuntary, or voluntarily controlled. This led me to think, if you're in a dream, chances are, you aren't thinking about your breathing, therefore it's involuntarily controlled, and most likely synced to your real breathing. I thought, perhaps as part of my regular Reality Checks, I could incorporate breathing into it, and think "Is the type of breathing I'm doing about right for the situation I'm in?", with the thought that if I have an adrenaline fuelled dream like this again (tornadoes would be quite scary in real life), that in my dream I may think - "Hey, there's Tornadoes, maybe I should be breathing a little bit quicker?", in the hope of realising I'm dreaming, and then turning lucid.

I was in my house (well, the house was mine in the dream, but not the same as mine in real life). There was one lowered section, where I was, and one raised section, where all the sleeping people were (Mum and Dad specifically). I think it was about 2am. I decided to drive to go eat some pie. I snuck out the house, and went for the drive. It was the first dream I recall having at night time, so that was quite interesting. I drove down the road near my house with the speed bumps, but there were too many people turning left onto the main road, so I went back around the block, and turned left at a different location. I turned in front of a large truck, and had to accelerate quite quickly to avoid it. I don't recall if I ever made it to the pie shop, because the next thing I knew I was back inside, and my Mum was scolding me about needing to book the car in some sort of online form and seek prior permission before taking it out at night. I was being scolded by a post-it-note, rather than in person.

*May recall something about driving near my old school at this point, but don't know specifically*

Emotions Felt:

• Fear (at being caught)
• Excitement (about the pie)
• Frustration (upon waking, at not recognising the weirdness of the dream, and then turning lucid)

Some of my day themes crept into my dream last night. I dreamt that my VPS provider, Linode, had started offering smaller plans for lesser cost (including 78MB of RAM as the smallest). I decided to go for a walk to find their main office, and sign up there (somehow signing up on the web wasn't an option in the dream). I went for a walk, and as it turned out, they had multiple offices along the street - the street was like one out of a "Rocky" movie, where all the houses are kind of similar to apartments, and have stairs going up to their doors. The first office I went into had 3 people lying down on green, flat, dentist chairs. They were being injected with a liquid that put them into a sleep, slowed their perception of reality down by 70 times, and allowed them to recognise that they were dreaming. Effectively, because they were put under for 1 hour, they were being given 70 hour lucid dreams. Once they fell asleep, they had some sort of goggles put over their eyes to increase their visualisation ability. After I saw this, I walked out the building and continued down the street to try and find their main office. I don't think I ever found it. When I walked back past the other building, there were people coming out of it throwing up, presumably as a side effect of the injection. This is all I remember.

Emotions

• None

Setting/Scenario/Atmosphere

• Autumn
• Cool/warm wind (as an emotional feeling/knowing, rather than directly feeling)
• Leaves blowing
• Quiet street
• Mid arvo/early evening (low soft sun)

02.08.2010

Rocket to the Moon. (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Not an amazing night. I went to bed thinking in my professional situation and I did not focus a lot on dreams. Three last night. Mostly fragmented:

Third:

A lot happened here, but I cannot remember, only the last piece of the dream.

I was talking with a female DC about something I cannot recall. I was looking for WakingNomad to go together to the moon. I walking with this DC to a place where we found a white rocket that would allow me to go to the moon (I flew tons of times to the moon... I do no need a rocket... why I dreamed that? Go figure... I was not lucid) I did not said to the DC that I was planning to meet WakingNomad. We got inside the rocket. It had several buttons with a lot of lights. I touched a couple of buttons and I heard a very loud alarm. The rocket started to shake.

I finally told the DC that we were going to the Moon to meet with WakingNomad. I told her that we had food and also we had a table with food and 10 full days worth of oxygen. I was unsure about how to return. I woke feeling happy.

Missed Dream Signs:
- Inside a rocket.

What I would have done if lucid:
- Go to the moon and have a Dream Sharing experience with WakingNomad & company (without the rocket though, I fly very easily in my lucids)

Apparently, this dream follows directly after #118. Also, I'm stealing titles directly from Mike Carey's Lucifer.

07/26/10

Sam and Dean want to kill the devil. I "help".

Sam climbs into the passenger seat of the Impala and slips on the pair of sunglasses resting on the dash. He lets his head fall back onto the seat and rubs his temples. (I marvel over the strange purple glow of our surroundings.) The driver's side door slams shut, and he lifts up his head. Dean has his hands clenched tight on the steering wheel, and stares into the desert horizon with his jaw clenched. Frustration seems to roll off him in waves.

They're back on the road before either of them says anything.

"So," says Dean, "We can either drive to Death Valley, or fly to the Himalayas." His tone makes it clear what he thinks of the idea.

"Death Valley's closer."

Dean raises his eyebrows, "With our luck, do you really think the devil managed to stay stateside?"

"I'd rather go to the Himalayas, personally." I say.

The car almost lurches off the road. Dean twists around in his seat to look at me. "Don't do that."

"We have wooden stakes in the trunk." Sam says mildly. "Trickster."

"When has that ever worked?" I ask. "Anyway, why are we going to the Himalayas?"

"We're not." growls Dean. His eyes are back on the road.

"We're trying to kill the devil." Sam says reasonably.

"Oh," I say, nodding along. "Why?"

"You know," says Dean, "Prevent the apocalypse, save humanity, that kind of thing?"

"There's a system of doors in Tibet that lead into other worlds. A psychic we talked to said that Lucifer left traces in the mountains that are somehow tied to these portals."

"The Nevernever." I say. "Yeah, we should check it out. Keep an eye out for vegan faeries."

"Right, I'm sure they're vicious little buggers," says Dean.

"Oh, they are. Somehow, human flesh satisfies the parameters of their diet."

***

"Nice office," says Dean, flopping gracelessly onto a black leather chair. He puts his feet up onto the desk. Bits of dirt flake off of his shoes onto the polished surface, and I hide a grin.

Sam just looks annoyed.

"Most of the objects in this room move along certain paths," I say, "Like levers. Get the right arrangement and the door will open right up."

"Unless, of course, you know a shortcut." The voice is British, and female, and I turn around to study her.

"Bela." says Dean. "Back from Hell already?"

"Someone had a job for me," she says, holding up a gun and pointing it at him, "And I am very good at my job." She smiles. "By the way, you might want to hurry. I informed security you were here."

Our eyes are drawn to the other hallway, where we hear a door click open. I look back. Bela's gone.

"God-fucking-dammit," says Dean.

"You figure out the combination," I say. "I'll distract him."

I stride into the hallway without looking back. Standing there, looking livid, is a man in a business suit. He's big and round, and his hair is white where he still has any. He slams the door behind him.

"Do you know who I am?" says the man, furious, "Do you know what I could do to you?" He pulls out a gun and points it at me.

"Not much?" I say, pretending to consider. "Relax. We need your door to the Nevernever, and then we'll be out of your hair."

"Impudence!" He snarls, "Just like my youngest son! I'll have you all killed!" He starts ranting about his plan to have me implicated in a gay affair with his son, followed by an elaborate murder-suicide.

I peer around the corner into the main office, since he's not actually paying much attention to me. Like I'd hoped, the Winchesters are gone. I turn back to the man, who by this time is ranting incoherently. I cough politely, hoping to get his attention.

He stops, panting.

"While that's a very... impressive evil plan (and you wouldn't have much trouble framing those two for anything) there is one tiny little flaw."

"And what is that?"

"I don't die."

The old man laughs and raises his hand - only to realize that he's no longer holding the gun. He freezes in shock and I wave a hand, banishing the Corrupt Corporate Executive to the late 51st century. He really won't like it there.

I take Bela's shortcut into the Nevernever, circumventing the need to play with furniture again. I appear at the top of a cliff covered in vegetation, which overlooks a hotel swimming pool and hot tub.

Sam and Dean stand on one side of the pool, facing off against Bela on the other side. I look for a way down, but there isn't one. I resign myself to jumping the fifteen-odd meters, knowing that there's no way for the fall to hurt me. I aim for the tile floor -

Only to land on the very edge of the pool. My feet impact the edge of the tile floor and slip off the edge into the water. I grit my teeth, feeling my dream-body reset itself, and I pull myself back onto the deck.

"You okay?" Asks Sam.

"Fine," I say, standing up and composing myself. "I don't die, as a rule." I notice Dean's weapon is trained on Bela. "Neither will she, you idiot."

As if in response, Bela spits a gob of blood onto the tile.

"Oh," I say, "They gave you a time limit."

"Apparently we're looking for different things," she says, her voice low, "Don't get in my way." She turns around and disappears into the cave system on the other side of the room.

There's a collective breath of relief.

"So," I say, turning to the boys, "Did you have a plan?"

"Find the devil," says Dean, "Shoot him in the head?"

"So, where is the devil?" asks Sam.

"I don't know," I lie with a shrug, "You guys said you wanted to go to the Himalayas."

"You said the devil came here!"

"It's what I'd do," I say innocently. "Anyway, plane tickets are in Sam's backpack. I have to run."

When I disappear, Dean is looking a little green.

***

I find him in a warehouse, beside a cracked-open wooden crate. Empty green wine bottles litter the ground, and Castiel himself - back in his original vessel - is sprawled out on the ground, leaning against the box. He has a half empty wine bottle in one of his hands.

I appear next to the crate, eyeing Castiel thoughtfully. I grab a full bottle and sit down on the concrete, popping the cork with a thought. Castiel's eyes roll up to look at me.

"Bad day at the office?" I ask, clinking my bottle of wine against his.

His face twists into a frown. "Being rescued by Lucifer didn't exactly set me up for a promotion."

"Well, I'd tell you they'll get over it," I say, taking a sip of wine, "But this is Heaven we're talking about. That lot can hold a grudge into eternity."

Castiel snorts. "You're not helping."

"Should I?" I ask, genuinely curious. "You wouldn't accept any advice from me. I'm the Deceiver, after all."

Castiel is quiet for a long time. I go steal chocolate bars from another section of the warehouse.

A Dalliance with the Damned. Scare Factor: 3.

WakingNomad provided the narration for the warehouse scene. Somehow. I think Microsoft Word was open in another window while I was experiencing the scene itself.

Also, I've somehow rewritten Season 4 of Supernatural subconsciously. So yeah.

P.S. I make up most of my dialogue. I don't remember the exact wording, so I improvise. I am a vile, evil attention-monger, I tell you.

I feel like I'm writing bad fanfiction subconsciously. I find it interesting that in the past two months I've had several dreams that carry on from previous ones.

Also, more Lucifer.

07/23/10

Castiel gets captured. I offer to help with the rescue.

"Let him go, you bitch!" I shout.

"Oh, Dean," says Lilith. "You don't understand. You've already lost."

I hate losing.

I throw myself back through the dream, back through the sewers that lead to the Hellmouth, zooming back over flooded streets and abandoned rafts and into a warehouse that I fought my way through not long ago.(1)

I arrive before Sam and Dean Winchester ever found themselves ambushed here, taking up precious time in our search. I can't afford that loss again.

A man is kneeling on the floor at the center of the warehouse. His face and arms are bare, and I can see designs swirling everywhere on his exposed flesh in patterns of black and blue. The tattooed man paints symbols on the floor, dipping his fingers into a wooden bowl filled with something red and sticky.



"Damian Masters." I say tonelessly. My voice reverberates through the building. Damian stands up, startled, and I step out of the shadows.

"Who are you?" He rasps, panicked.

"Have you ever heard the name 'Samael'?" I ask him.

He shakes his head.

"I'm an angel." I manage to say it with a straight face.

Damian falls to the ground and bows his head. I try not to let my irritation show. "What can I do?"

"We have need of Dean Winchester," I say importantly. "Allow him to leave. Kill the other one."

"Of course," he breathes, "The boy with the demon blood."

I walk across the room, deliberately scuffing the blood sigil where it won't be noticed. I roll my eyes. "So mote it be." I say in a mocking tone.

***

Dean steps onto the oversized raft, stumbling a little as it bobs under his weight. He turns around and catches the knife Sam throws at him. He breathes out slowly once he catches his balance again. (2)

"Watch it, Sam. I don't want to go diving for this stuff." He rubs his eyes and sighs. "Be careful."

"You're doing the dangerous part," says Sam, rolling his eyes. "I'm just casting the spell here because it's on the right ley lines."

"Other people thought so, too," warns Dean. "That blood on the floor still looks fresh."

"Get on with it, Dean. Castiel's not getting out of Hell on his own."

Dean unties the rope from the pier and casts off, sending his brother a sarcastic two-finger salute. Sam grins and salutes back. He only watches Dean drift off for a moment, carried by the current through the flooded city. He picks up a canvas bag and spreads its contents over a table, ready to start the ritual.

He gets so caught up in his task that he almost ignores the little warning voice that goes off in his head. He dodges to the side as a fireball slams into the table, sending his ritual ingredients up in flames. Sparing no time for disappointment, he runs over to where the guns should be, only to find them... gone.

He turns around to face the other man. The tattooes on his face and arms, Sam thinks, they probably let him manipulate energy. The man's face is twisted into a triumphant grin, and Sam looks down, realizing he's at the center of the blood sigil on the floor. The tattooed man raises a hand, covered in glowing swirls, and presses it to the concrete.

***

His raft floats through the flooded city, guided by a spellbound current. The shadows of buildings jut out of the water, reaching toward the orange sky as if in their death throes. Barnacles cling to the rotting and rusting wood and steel. Some of the buildings have collapsed in on themselves, leaving twisted metal sitting low to the water. Dean steers carefully around them.



"Dean Winchester, yeah?"

Dean spins around with the knife raised. "Yeah? And who are you?"

The boat tips a little, and I look back at him, unimpressed. "I'm here to help," I say with a smile. "You can call me Lucy. Things will get confusing, otherwise."

"Really. Okay, Lucy," says Dean, "Why should I trust you?"

"You probably shouldn't," I tell him honestly, "But I owe Castiel a favour, and I pay my debts."

Dean eyes me suspiciously, but he lowers the knife.

"Excellent." I say. "Now, we have a problem."

"Of course we do."

"Castiel's vessels have gone missing."

"His vessel? The guy he's possessing?"

"The daughter as well. You haven't met them yet?"(3) I receive an uncomprehending stare as my answer. "Whatever. He needs a vessel, and you're it." A pause. "Don't look at me like that, it's only temporary."

"Why not you?" asks Dean, "That'd be a good way to pay back your 'debt', wouldn't it?"

"How many humans do you know that can teleport onto a raft in the middle of nowhere?" I ask impatiently. "I'm an occupied vessel; it doesn't work that way."

Dean is silent as I latch onto the decorative post of a balcony and bring the raft to a stop. "We're hee-ere," I sing-song quietly, stepping onto the concrete deck. Dean shoots me a look, hand hovering near the gun concealed under his jacket.

We step through the archway, into a cobblestone hallway filled with rot and mold. Dean's nose scrunches in distaste, but I can't smell anything. A rusted metal ladder is built into the opposite wall, and I make a motion towards it. Be my guest.

Dean eyes the ladder. "I thought we were going into the sewers."

"We are." I confirm. Dean looks at me askance, and I roll my eyes. "We're walking towards a gateway to Hell! You can't expect reality to work properly."

Dean makes a disbelieving noise, but moves to the ladder and starts climbing up it. I follow a few seconds behind, looking up to track Dean's progress.

Wow. Those are some really nice jeans.

Climbing up brings us a level down, and we trudge through muddy water and orange-lit brick until we find an opening in the wall. Dean and I stand on either side of it, catching our breath and shaking out our shoes.

"Are you ready?" I ask. "Lilith's on the other side."

"Ready as I'll ever be." Dean shoots me a grin. We step through the opening.

It's bright. The gateway is orange-white, shedding the room with stark light and bleaching out the red brick. Lilith stands near the doorway, hands clasped loosely over her white dress. Her blonde hair flutters in a non-existant breeze.

I squint against the light. "Claire Novak?" I say incredulously. "Oh, irony of ironies. Nice one, Lilith."



The little girl smiles pleasantly. "I thought it was fitting, using an angelic vessel as my own." She holds a hand up to the light, studying her fingers. "It was actually quite simple to burn out the angelic protections."

"You're borrowing from Azazel." I muse, "His bastardising the Winchester line."

"Demon blood," snaps Dean. "Can we get on with it? If this is a seal, what did you need an angel for?"

"An angel?"

"Castiel." I supply helpfully.

Lilith laughs, her voice clear and deceptively innocent. "Oh, of course," she says, "Heaven has him, and I have no more need of opening seals. Lucifer walks the earth."

"What?"

"Castiel's superiors were unhappy with his exercising free will," I state calmly. "They're currently re-educating him."(4)

Dean rounds on me. "Whose side are you on?"

"Huh. Good question. I'm still going to need at least one of the vessels." I say to Lilith.

"Can we go back to the bit where Lucifer is free?"

"Dean, your presence is extraneous at the moment," I say, tilting my head sideways as I look at Lilith's teenage meatsuit. "Shut up."

Dean looks about ready to hit me, but I wave a hand and he collapses.

"My lord?" says Lilith carefully.

"Not today." I say, "Tell me, what is it you're after?"

"The end of all things." She responds immediately. "The apocalypse, which you are destined to bring about." (5)

I smile as I approach her. "Destiny," I say, placing a hand on her head, "Is bullshit."

Lilith's demonic form - grey and wispy and spiralling out of control - is forced out of Claire Novak's body. The light grey smoke hurtles toward the Hellmouth, screaming. It stills a second, pulling with all its might against the vortex, before succumbing to the orange-white light, falling back into Hell. The gate closes, dousing the room in shadow.

I will definitely regret doing that at some point.

I push the thought from my mind. In the next moment, I'm pulling on an incorporeal thread, tearing Castiel away from the torments of Heaven and back into human form. Blinding white light fills the room once more, before focusing on the girl.

Castiel opens her eyes.

"Lucifer," she says magnanimously.

I grin. "Hey, Cas. You should probably go rescue your other vessel. And Sam Winchester. Dean's fine," I say, seeing Castiel look over at the unconscious man.

There's an awkward pause.

"Why did you -"

"You let me go." I say, "Now we're even." (6)

I disappear without another word.

Castiel stares at the spot for a moment, before going over to Dean and tapping him on the forehead.

***

When Castiel appears back at the warehouse, supporting a groggy Dean Winchester, Sam is leaning against a table with his arms crossed, facing the tattooed man. The man is currently trussed up and tied to a chair, his head lolling at an awkward angle. Sam doesn't take his eyes off him.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Dean demands, inconspicuously taking his weight off of Castiel's shoulders.

"I have no idea," says Sam, "He attacked me, tried to activate a blood sigil." In response to Dean's worried look, Sam shrugs. "It didn't work," he says, "The outer circle was broken."

"Well, that was lucky," says Dean, sounding suspicious. "Anyway, we've got bad news. Cas?" He looks around, only to realize that Castiel is already gone. "Damn it."

Devil in the Gateway. Scare Factor: 4.

1. This dream continued on from a previous one that I don't properly recall. I think I was Dean. Sam and I fought Masters, the tattooed man in the warehouse, but it slowed us down considerably. Sam still stayed behind to do the ritual, but it completely screwed things up for us. When I replayed the dream, I kept Masters from attacking Dean, and sabotaged the ritual at the same time. I think.

2. A good portion of this dream was in the third person. My character wasn't spying so much as I was watching cutscenes.

3. Supernatural 4x20 "The Rapture", which aired over a year ago. We meet Castiel's human host, Jimmy Novak, and his family. Claire, the daughter, is briefly possessed as well.

4. Actually happened in the TV series. Same episode.

5. This was Lilith's motivation in Mike Carey's Lucifer comic series.

6. I can't believe I remembered that. According to this dream, Castiel let me beat him in our last fight. I resent the implication.

In other complaints, why is teleporting so easy during non-lucids?

Also, I haven't been online much for the past couple of weeks. Summertime! I'll do my best to get caught up with everyone's DJ entries.

all i remember is having some guns from HALO 2, a red one and a black one with glowing white dots.

regular dreams: 7-31-10

I was up north and I only recorded some dreams from one night. The other nights I didn't get that much sleep from staying up so late so I don't remember anything else.

Criss Angel

Criss Angel was signing autographs or something at a white table. I came up to the table to greet him and he gave me a box filled with small presents. He told me that I was the winner of some contest because I sent him an email telling him how much I love his show(yea, I did that in real life..). I wanted him to hug me but instead my sister leaned over the table and Criss just gave her a small half-hug and I didn't get one.

Obama Knows Everything- Even Dog Chow Ingredients/Brands

Me and a friend were at some drugstore and the president showed up. He needed to buy some dog food so he went over to some shelves that had dog food and a bunch of people were following him. He was acting all smart and explaining the difference of dog food brands and the nutrients and stuff in them. He seemed to just know everything.. Then he bought something and went off to catch a flight. Sometime in this dream me and my friend were chasing a dead girl.. or something...

Type: regular dream.
Lucidity: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Vividness: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes:
I dug up this entry from a slightly older dream journal.

It's daytime, probably as light as it could be, and I'm standing on a muddy road with my mother, because our car had broken down and we'd been walking for a few hours. This, I knew even though it didn't actually happen in the dream. On either side of the road were fields with wheat, barley, and anything else that would grow in the middle of nowhere. There were no trees, no houses, and no farming equipment.

My mom sat down in the mud; I could hear it sloshing in her jeans and shoes. I decided to look ahead and walk some more, and as I walked, I discovered wrappers of corn nuts. The packages were metallic, shiny, and in colors of evergreen, pink, and red. Most of them were empty, but as I bent down, I realized a few of them still had some left. The packages crumpled as I looked inside them for leftover.

I ate them ravenously. They were very crunchy, almost like hard candy, but I ended up swallowing them like pills, not feeling them go down my throat. I also saw a sky-blue twizzlers package, but I left it there.

I have recently started playing The Eldar Scrolls Oblivion again. Very good game!! In my dream I was in the country somewhere doing a mission for an old lady. Her husband came over on a horse with a few other guys. I cant remember what happened but I ended up with a realy cool black horse and an awsome sword.


I remember another fragment of an Oblivion dream but dont remember what happened.


I was playing some kind of FPS game. There were different character classes to choose, each person could fire bombs at the other and depending on your clas your bomb had different abilities like lock on or a time delay. The bombs were all a purply colour and it was realy fun.

Type: regular dream.
Lucidity: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Vividness: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Notes:
I dug up this entry from a slightly older dream journal.

I was inside a Candy Store; this place was around the size of a cell phone store and had blue walls, as well as solid and pale confetti-colored flooring. Lining the walls were clear jellybean candy dispensers with different colored jellybeans, and there were a few cylindrical rotating shelves with pull-out drawers spaced out in different areas of the store. The counter with the cashier was in the back of the store in the middle, and it too was painted blue with a confetti-colored countertop.

My thirteen-year old sister walked up from behind me and said, "I'll be like five minutes in here." I knew I would be taking slightly longer, but I nodded and went to shop. I browsed at a bunch of unidentifiable candy in plastic bags and then went to the jellybean section and looked at the dispensers. I didn't end up buying anything, but then my sister met up with me and she was holding a large, opaque white bag that said "5" on it. I guessed that the five meant pounds.

She went to the cashier to pay. She was a woman in her forties with curly ginger hair, and was wearing one of those little hats like they give you at Krispy Kreme.

Except it didn't have anything on it whatsoever, it was just plain white. My sister gave some coins to the woman without even giving them the bag to examine, and then she handed her a survey. My sister looked at me, raising an eyebrow, and then at the survey again. "What is that?" I asked her.

"A survey about dogs."

"Why?" I asked her, completely dumbfounded. My gaze then flicked to the cashier who obviously heard my tone of voice and she said, "it's compulsory if you want to buy candy from this store. Take it or leave it, and the candy."

"This is bull," I spat, immediately frustrated, and took my sister gently by the arm. "We'll get candy somewhere else," I told her. I was still fuming as the two of us stormed out of the place.

Key: Non-Lucid, Lucid

Shop

I was a blonde woman. I had just bought a clothing store. I had the idea that every item should be in an individual box when you buy it. People said it was dumb but I was insistent. Over the course of the dream the company grew larger and larger. Eventually there were lots of people trying to buy me out, but I wasn't interested. I was really tired. It was all rather... odd?

Pokeball Flood Escape!

I was in a hotel with my parents. The water started gushing in. It was rising fast. We tried to run up higher but the stairs were blocked by random debris. We would surely drown. I had an idea! What if we were to hold on to a water Pokemon and return it to it's pokeball? Perhaps we too would go in to the ball and be safe from drowning? I convinced my parents it as a good idea and told the Blastoise I had chosen to come out of the ball in about 2 hours. At first I thought we would get inside it's mouth, but I realised we wouldn't fit so just went for holding on to it's shell. We held on to him and we all entered the pokeball with the typical white flash. Hopefully we would've survived but the dream ended.

I like it when it's obvious where my dreams come from. It's pretty simple day residue stuff here. I was watching a program about the Sri-Lankan tsunami the other day and have been getting back in to Pokemon recently.

Last night I had a non-lucid dream about a seafood processing plant floating in the middle of the ocean. The only entrance was a small ramp that you would run your boat up onto to unload the seafood. We pulled up to the processing plant in a small, canoe-like boat, with Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs as our leader. As we pulled up, a great white shark flopped up next to our boat on the ramp, trying to get some of the seafood, but quickly fell back into the ocean. Inside of the plant was a labyrinth of tubes and pipes, which fed various seafood products to different parts of the plant. There were no lights inside, and most of the workers seemed to have not seen the light of day in a long time.

In speaking further to the workers, they all seemed, frankly, like a bunch of hicks. They detested the outside world, and essentially their entire lives were centered around processing seafood. I walked among the rows of pipes and once in a while would grab a clam or muscle and eat it. I can't remember if I was eating these raw, or if they had somehow been cooked in the process. This was the end of that part of the dream, though the next fragment I remember was interacting with a boy from the plant, but was set in a supermarket.

Fragment: A boy from the processing plant was hiding in the lettuce pile in a supermarket vegetable isle. In order to entice him to come out, his older brother arranged macaroni noodles on sandwich bread and then put some Parmigiano Reggiano cheese on top of the noodles. The strange thing was that the noodles were cold, so I wouldn't exactly call it mac and cheese. At this point I woke up.