non-lucid

I finally managed to tell Claire I liked her. It didn't go great (not outright rejection, but not enthusiasm either), but it felt like there was at least a chance.

Somewhat nightmarish dream in which I navigate a series of large, dark rooms connected by doors. It was very dark, and silent. I suspect there were monsters around, or at least I thought there were. There was a group of people, but I was pretty far ahead of them, scouting ahead or something. Or collecting objects to progress, like a game of Resident Evil. After a while, I had enough and I told Claire (who was with me) this was crazy and clearly a job for the military. Predictably, she would have none of that and wanted to go on. Not wanting to disappoint (and knowing that with her, it's her way or the highway), I begrudgingly agreed and lead the party further into the maze of dark rooms.

Morning of January 26, 2018. Friday.



I become aware of being in the living room of the Cubitis house. (No threads of my present conscious self identity are extant at this time.)

My father is alive and as he was in the 1960s. I have no recall of his death in 1979. He is standing near the north end of the living room. I am sitting closer to the kitchenette.

A television is on for a short time. It shows a group of teenagers yelling and going into a school building. “I never really liked school,” I tell my father, “I would have rather gone to a labor camp, chopping wood or laying bricks.” My father seems passive but expresses mild interest in what I am saying. Eventually, I decide that this is not entirely true, as I did not mind elementary school so much. (This is mainly a result of the typical failure of viable memories in the dream state. I did not really dislike school as much as my fictional dream self implies here. It seems to be a reference to when I actually did chop wood, use a fence pole digger, and help build a fence instead of going to middle school for a short time, when the “outdoor classroom” was first being designed and built in Florida.)

Eventually, I get the impression that I can influence the movement of the curtain on the east window, closest to the kitchenette. Although I am not lucid, I start to notice that the curtain responds directly to what I say aloud (similar to how a real-time scripted dream works, and yet, again, there is no lucidity at any point). My father goes to the southwest bedroom as I remain in the living room. After I am sure I am controlling the curtain, I call to him to show him what I can do, but I do not see him. The situation is interesting but somewhat eerie. “Up to the ceiling,” I say, and the curtain obeys, swaying and moving to become flat against the ceiling. “Twist around,” I say, and the curtain twists itself around. “To the right,” I say, and the curtain slowly moves toward the kitchenette. I do this about twenty times, with at least five different instructions, and they always work.

I become distracted by a noise in the backyard. Looking out, I notice a tidal wave, all along the eastern horizon, approaching from a distance. It seems to be nighttime, but I can see the whiteness of the high foamy wave.

“Tidal wave, there is a tidal wave coming,” I yell. I do not see my father come out, but I am trying to warn him. Soon, the tidal wave hits the house. I can feel the house shake. I see and feel water coming in through the east windows. It flows quickly throughout the living room and my bedroom, and yet there is no direct impact of water on my body, only some cool refreshing splashes. Still, I yell, seeing that several high stacks of paper with documented dreams, under my bed, are apparently soaked, and I slowly recall Zsuzsanna’s dream journals as well. There is wetness, but no indication of flooding over the floor at this point.

I yell in annoyance just as I hear Zsuzsanna and our children on the carport. I get the impression that they had just returned from shopping or the library. Zsuzsanna calls out to me, wondering what is going on. There is no indication that the tidal wave had affected their approach to the house, or that they had even seen it (which of course is ludicrous if one wants to force logic on dreams where none exists).

She and our children walk through the front door. “Everything is wet,” I say loudly. “Not everything?” Zsuzsanna asks hopefully. “Everything,” I confirm. I wake at this point, with Zsuzsanna standing near our bed in reality and our youngest daughter nearby. I am somewhat confused as to whether our oldest daughter is in the area since she had been in my dream, though I do not see her.

---

This dream is partly a beautiful connection to a fully lucid childhood dream, “The Staged Bull” from 1971 (as well as several other dreams). Both dreams use curtains as the division between the dream self and the conscious self and the perceived danger of RAS (as the waking alert factor), familiar autosymbolism for the waking transition. In this dream, my subliminal focus on reinduction brings a tidal wave (also a circadian rhythms factor) rather than the usual passive connection to water rising at the beginning of most sleeps. (This is also an association with the indoor rain we had in real life after our roof was torn off, though in reality, our dream journals did not get wet.) The typical doorway waking symbolism is utilized by RAS here, with no recall that Zsuzsanna had never been to America, let alone Cubitis (and as I have written before, I believe this is to prevent dream memories from being mistaken as having real-life meaning other than when prescient). My father wanders off to a bedroom (dream state indicator) and my control of the curtains seems like an amazing breakthrough in adding one more thread of dream knowledge in validating the autosymbolic meaning they entail. (Both autosymbolism for liminal space division and an association with control of the dream state as an implied stage, which also has curtains, yet also has the association with stage of sleep.) In previous dreams, I had chosen to “freeze” tidal waves and nuclear explosions in order to sustain the dream state and make it last for ten to fifteen additional minutes.

---

The Dream started out in bed. I saw my uncle doing something strange and for some reason I was barely able to make sound. I remember screaming as loud as I could and all that came out was a pathetic whimpering sound. He asked me to "come over here". I hesitated, but eventually I decided to do so. I struggled to get out of bed, but I ended up doing it and walking towards him. he was holding a katana or similar sword of some kind, and as soon as I came close to him, he attempted to behead me with his sword. He then vanished. I remember that the hallway didn't exist and instead there was a dead end that had the door to a closet of some kind and the TV room right next to it. After that happened, I went into the bathroom to do something, but I then noticed my cat, smudge. "i'm just gonna circle you now" she said as she ran circles around me impossibly fast. I forgot what I was doing in the bathroom, but then I noticed my other similar looking blind cat doing the same thing as smudge. I eventually left and saw a couple, both appearing to be in their late teens and both appearing to be albino. I then left and on my way to the kitchen encountered someone I had never seen before. I asked if he was czech and he said yes. His accent was unlike anything I had heard though. I saw my aunt down in the kitchen and we started to talk about said Slav before I left to do something else. When I came across the man in the living room, I asked him his name. He said his name was Krgyz Krazkovicz. I then went upstairs and saw the same couple in the TV room. It was becoming morning, so I went to this VERY site and wrote the dream down. It was as if I flawlessly transitioned out of the dream. A bunch of other crazy stuff happened involving random cartoony things, but I forgot what it was about. I also remember a third person view of me scaling the edge of a cliff in the fashion of a 3D platformer.

In in some kind of high-tech base, attacking the control room held by Italian fascists. I killed everybody in there, but was then attacked by reinforcements coming from an outdoor corridor linking the allied and axis headquarters (architecture is once again almost impossible to explain). One of them possibly controlled some kind of mech suit. Anyway, they were all dead in the end. I crossed the corridor and went into the other headquarters. Once again, more fascists. But these guys didn't know I was the enemy yet, and the guards greeted me as if I was a friend. I think I realized I forgot something and decided to 'load the game' to get to the previous HQ faster. Instead of ending up in the room full of dead fascists, the corpses had despawned and the room was now occupied by allies. One of these allies, however, angrily told me I wasn't allowed to be here. I said I liberated this room just a few minutes earlier, and that that should earn me at least 15 seconds to do what I needed to do here. Nope. A big black guy easily two heads taller than me (and muscles like a body builder) told me to 'get out, or else'. Slightly stunned, I obeyed. It didn't sit well with me, though. Not at all. I was fuming, in fact. I went back inside, and attacked the guy whom I felt had insulted me. I knew he was armed (I wasn't), but I had the element of surprised so he couldn't draw. We wrestled for a bit. He was strong, stronger than me, but I appeared to possess skill in martial arts (looked like Jiu Jitsu), as I used techniques I do not master in real life. I used his strength against him to force him to the ground. I reached for his shotgun and took it. After some more wrestling, I managed to aim it for his head and pull the trigger. The 'click' sound told me there were no shells in the chamber. He laughed, thinking he'd won. I inserted a shell, and racked the slide. He reached for the weapon, hoping to turn it against me. It didn't work. I had the gun aimed for his head, and was ready to pull the trigger when I woke up.

The dream faded, and I fantasized about the shot blowing his head off. I hadn't really thought it through, though. If I killed him, wouldn't all the other allied forced immediately kill me, considering they were all armed? Perhaps I didn't care, as this felt like a video game, anyway.

I find myself in a room that’s like my bedroom in my old house in K---, more or less. I notice a stranger is there—a dark-haired boy, maybe between eight and 10. I immediately go over and interrogate him—who is he, and what is he doing here in my house? But then I ‘remember’—he’s the neighbor’s kid, and we’ve arranged it so that he comes over here when he arrives home before his parents do so he doesn’t have to be in the house alone. Oops.

After that, I want to make sure he feels welcome here, so I invite him over to my desk to see what I’m working on. I’m reverse engineering a notebook, I explain. I have it there: the powder blue leather-covered notebook I bought yesterday. I’m going to take it apart, and then I’m going to use what I learned to make a notebook of my own that’s similar in design. As I speak, I’m actually disassembling it. He doesn’t say anything—not once in the entire dream, I think—but he seems to be listening.

And when I’m all done, I tell him, I’m going to put the original one back together. It won’t be exactly as it was before, since part of it was damaged in the process—something I easily could have avoided, but it doesn’t actually matter that much. I’m going to sew together some colorful scraps of leather to replace that part, and it’ll end up looking nicer that way anyway.

At one point, he takes an envelope that’s stuffed into my desk organizer—it’s made from a greyish recycled paper, like the kind used for official correspondence in Germany—and sets it on top of a pile of unopened envelopes. Probably trying to help, I figure. I take the envelope and put it back where it was. The pile is unopened mail, I explain. In between finals, visiting family, everyone getting the flu and all the work being done on the house, there’s a lot I haven’t had the chance to look at yet.

2018, 01-24

Game of Dreams – An Innocent Saved

I am Eddard Stark. I am in a large room standing next to my daughter. Aria is saying she didn’t mean to get into so much trouble. I tell her it wasn’t her fault, I know the truth. The queen bitch Cersei is quite pissed off. Joffrey is standing beside her. A lot of accusations are throwing around. Joffrey is saying Arya attacked him for no reason. Arya is saying that she attacked him because he was bullying her friend Mycah. I know Arya is telling the truth. One of my people brings Sansa into the room. She says she doesn’t even remember what happened. I am thinking that is a lie. It is finally decided that each child’s father will take care of that child’s discipline. But there are still more accusations thrown around. Joffrey is saying that Arya’s wolf him. He says he has the shredded and bloody shirt show for it. I asked how bad wound is? At this point he hesitates. He then says there is no wound because my other daughter, Sansa, it’s some kind of a witch and healed it. I ask if we are seriously going to entertain such nonsense?

The king says we will have no more talk of witches. The queen says that the direwolves are still clearly dangerous. She says she does not want them around. She says the one wolf ran away, she knows that, but she wants the other one put down. I told him that’s not going to happen. The King seems to of had enough arguing. He just gets up and leaves. The queen says it’s just a matter of time before that wolf bites someone. I can tell by the way that she says it that even if Lady doesn’t bite anyone, she’s going to set it up to look like she did. It is not safe for Lady to stay with us any longer. She must be sent back to Winterfell. Sansa is crying and saying not to let them hurt lady. I tell her no one is going to hurt lady, but in order to be safe, lady has to go back to Winterfell. The queen says she wants that wolf’s pelt. I tell her that’s not going to happen. She says I had better not defy her. I told her the wolves will be gone, so just let it be. I telepathically focus on making her accept. She accepts that offer.

I go outside to wear some of my own people are waiting. I told them what was decided, and I told them that they have to escort lady back to Winterfell. Sansa has a tearful goodbye with Lady before they load her into a wooden cage and depart. I am left to comfort to crying daughters. As we are walking away I see some horses returning. There are several horses, but only one rider. The rider is The Hound. Apparently he had been unable to find either Arya or her friend Mycah, but they did find trouble. He reveals to some of the King’s Guard that there was a woman with a sword for an arm and a man who held thunder in his hand. Joffrey has followed us out and says he thinks the dog has been drinking again. I know exactly what has happened, but I keep my mouth shut until I wake up.

2018, 01-24

Game of Dreams – Dreams of a Gunslinger

I am in a forest. I walk for a ways, and I enter in area that is an open green field. I look out across the field and I see some horses running. I wonder what is going on. I move towards them, and then I see that there is a boy running out in front of the horses. They’re catching up with him very quickly. The people on the horses have weapons, and it looks like they’re trying to cut the boy down. But he’s just a kid! I wonder why they would be doing that, and I think it cannot be allowed. I run towards them, but it looks like I might be too late. That’s when I hear a loud bang. One of the people on the horses falls off. I look to where the sound came from, and there is a man in the field. The man fires his weapon again, from the sound it could only be a high caliber gun. Another of the riders falls off his horse. The boy is getting close to me now, and he is calling out for help.

Then I see another two riders coming from the opposite direction, and this time I am able to get in between them and the boy. I form my right arm into an Alex Mercer blade then block his sword as he literally tries to remove the boys head. There is another deafening bang from the man’s gun, and the rider I just blocked falls from his horse. All of the horses are bolting now, scared of the loud noises. Most of them are fleeing without riders, but the one more that was headed in my direction also bolts whether its rider wants it to or not. That horses rider is clinging on for dear life as his horse takes him out of sight into the forest. He should count himself lucky that the horse bolted before he also got shot.

The man that has been firing the gun comes over. I do a double take when I see it’s Roland from the dark Tower series. He asks if the boy is OK? I tell him yes the boy is fine. I change my arm back to normal. Roland says he knows me. He says he saw me back in Tull when those zombies attacked. He asks if this is another dream? I’m not sure what he is referring to, so I don’t answer. He asks if we’re somehow sharing the same dream? He says he had a dream earlier that he was in a castle. Or a hallucination… he’s not sure which. Then, without warning, Roland disappears. I guess he was dreaming, and now we woke up. So all there is to do now is escort this boy back to the group. The boy is Mycah, and I am remembering that he is the butchers son. He’s also arias friend. After a short while we find the main group. We find the butchers wagon, and Mycah’s father is very relieved to see him safe. Mycah starts telling his father all about everything that happened. The father looks quite worried, maybe he thinks the guards will try again to get rid of Mycah if it keeps him from telling the truth of what happened Joffrey. It is here that I wake up.

2018, 01-24

Game of Dreams – The Unfair Prince

I am Sansa now, and I am with Prince Joffrey. I immediately want to punch him in the face. But for the time being, he’s being nice. We are out riding on horses. We ride around the area quite a bit, following some kind of a wildcat, exploring some ruins, it’s actually kind of fun. We have lunch and then ride some more. We hear some noises up ahead, and I want to leave. But Joffrey is being stubborn and wants to check it out. We go and we find my sister Arya and her friend Mycah playing at swords, using sticks as swords. I tell Joffrey it was just a couple of kids playing, there’s no need to interfere. But Joffrey won’t listen. We watch as Mycah disarms Arya, and then when he sees Joffrey, he drops his own stick. Mycah recognizes Joffrey as the prince and bows.

At this time Joffrey starts being an asshole. He gets off his horse and pulls out his sword. He tells Mycah to pick up his sword and show him how good he is. Mycah says they were just playing, there are no swords, just sticks. I tell Joffrey to knock it off. Joffrey points his sword at Mycah. I go to get off my horse, but my foot gets caught in the stirrup and I fall. No one seems to notice that. Arya attacks Joffrey to keep him from hurting Mycah. Joffrey turns around and attacks her back. Mycah runs off into the trees. Arya throws a rock and misses Joffrey, but hits Joffrey’s horse in the bottom and makes him run away. I get up and go over to try to get between Joffrey and Arya, as it looks like he might hurt her. But before I can get to him, my sister’s wolf tackles him, biting his sword arm.

Joffrey drops his sword, and start trying to get the wolf off of him. My sister calls the wolf off. Joffrey‘s arm is bloody and his clothes are ripped where he’s been bit. Arya picks up Joffrey’s sword, and after pausing to hear Joffrey whimper a bit, she throws it out into the river. Arya then runs off into the trees after Mycah. I am thinking if I hadn’t tripped I could’ve kept this incident from happening at all. But I did. So I will erase the evidence. I go over to Joffrey, who is still whimpering and cradling his hurt arm. I focus healing energy on his arm. His arm heals rather quickly. I see a faint blue glow around it. I also focused healing energy on the back of his head where Arya hit him with the stick. That heals as well, leaving no trace that he was attacked. Except for his ripped and bloody clothes, that is. After seeing the healing, Jeffrey freaks out. He called me a witch and runs away. I can’t help but laugh at his stupidity. I wake up.

2018, 01-24

Game of Dreams – Gunslinger Takedown

I am in the tower with Bran, I am Catelyn Stark. Bran is unconscious in his bed. There is an idiot trying to talk to me about numbers. I tell him I don’t care about the numbers. He’s trying to talk about money, and the daily running of the castle. I don’t care. I tell him to go away. Robb comes in and tells him that he will take care of the details. I turn back to Bran. I focus healing energy on him. I see a faint blue glow around him. Robb is talking to me now, about how he is worried that my other children, him included, need me. There is a lot of commotion outside. Wolves howling, dogs barking, people yelling. Robb looks out the window and says there’s a fire at the library. He leaves to go tend to it.

The next thing I know there’s a strange man in the doorway. He has a dagger, and look surprised to see me. He says I’m not supposed to be there. I said it’s too bad for him, I am here. I know right away he’s come to kill my son. I focus on forming my right arm into an Alex Mercer blade, I will remove his head. Nothing happens. I cursed myself briefly, wondering how I would expect Catelyn’s arm to turn into an Alex Mercer blade. The guy comes at me. He apparently intends to get rid of me first, it looks like he thinks I will be easy. Not so easy. I might not be able to form Alex Mercer weapons, but that doesn’t mean I’m helpless. I look around for something to use as a weapon. I dodge his attack and it puts him off balance. I plant a kick to his backside and knock him sprawling on his face. He scrambles to his feet as quick as he can.

He turns back towards me, and then looks behind me. He drops a curse word, and then quickly goes out the window, a wolf grabbing at his heels as he goes. We are in a tower… I wonder where he thinks he can go. I run to the window and look out, and he’s climbing down the building like an Assassin from Assassins Creed. All the guards are helping with the fire, but I see a man down below my window. I call to him to stop that man, he tried to murder my son. The killer has reached ground, and is running across the courtyard. The man that was below my window responds. I looked closer, and he looks familiar. It looks like Roland from the Dark Tower books. My thoughts are confirmed when he pulls something from his side, and there is a deafening blast as he shoots. The killer falls to the ground. I am wondering what Roland is doing here. I look down again, and Roland is gone. Where did he go? I don’t get a chance to figure it out, I wake up.

Fragment 1: I was doing something in Minecraft
Fragment 2: I was playing an alternate version of SCP: Containment Breach when I found a strange time machine like contraption. I was able to peek into a past time with it. I was trying to type 1933, but I accidentally typed 03 and was given GIF of a tree with some breakbeat music. When I did type 1933, it gave me this lake with the number 1933 in the lake. I then typed 1, which lead me to the creator's announcement that he was trying to make this a meme.

Its early morning and i'm lazing in bed when Susan comes in. I do a double take as she is already in the room and realise that the first one is a robot replica. I try to turn off the robot and hide it away but I only manage to reboot it and robot Susan starts talking. And I panic Waaaaaaa!

Next dream I am in a town in Europe and realise I am being followed. A gunman comes up to me and shoves his gun at me. I try to explain to him that I am not up to anything but am just studying the architecture of the building near buy. He is not convinced and his boss turns up also waving the same silver colt gun around. His boss looks like Paul Whitehouse (a uk comedian). I show them something is strange about the building near buy, the archway defies the laws of gravity and their is something strange about its length.

Date of Dream: WED 24 JAN - 2018



Dream No. 270 - Separated Sections

Dream 270 A - Cooper Van Design Competition
I don't remember much of this dream. From what I can remember, I was shopping at Dandenong Plaza with my mum but I don't know what for specifically. I then left the plaza and ended up walking around in a rainy swamp during the day, so I could see where I was going. I eventually got to this truck that almost looked like a food truck, like it was some sort of shop in the middle of nowhere. In that truck was Bentley doing something on his computer.

I came in and he said I had to do something first. This family came in and I had to beat them in a couple of games that Bentley had set up for us. This family were playing really hard their attitude was almost like they wanted me to lose rather than the focus being on them winning. The scene would flick between playing the games and then another version of me watching the game and reflecting on what the active me is doing. In the end, I ended up winning and so then Bentley told to “head out to the back and see Murray”.

As I was heading out the back of the truck door, there was a scene that played parallel to that. It was a scene where Bentley was sitting back at the front of his computer and typing and there was a projection of my voice saying “The reason Bentley did that is because he knew that you'd be the only one able to beat that family; he wanted to test you and that it wasn't some fakey”.

So now I was at the back where there were a whole crowd of people, the majority of them were ranged from middle age to old. There were all these clay models of the Cooper van and I was given one by one of the facilitators of this competition, which was some random old bloke. This competition involved painting a design onto the provided model with glaze paint and the winner would be the new design, customised onto the Cooper van.

I started painting except I was concerned with hoe my design was going. My painting skills seemed to be really crap and I couldn't keep straight lines; I felt like an art student back in grade 1. To add insult to injury, all these old men and women were coming past me and criticising my work. The same old man that gave me the clay model said that my painting is terrible and that I'm not going to win. Eventually though, I got a grip and also came up with a consistent design; a floral theme.

When I was near the end of my model, the painting was actually really neat and I had also done some engraving as well. People were still criticising my work but Murray walked past, picked up my model, examined it, and then he said that he was going to choose my model to placed onto the van. That's all I can remember about that dream.

Dream 270 B - Too Much Jewellery
I don't remember much of this dream either. From what I can remember, I was surfing around on Instagram when I came across LB's account. In the dream, her account didn't have the private setting activated and so I could see all the posts although I wasn't following her. From a lot of her latest posts, I noticed that she was over in America, so that's where I was heading off to. I clicked on one and it was a picture of her buying something a Target store.

The scene then changed and I ended up in that exact same Target store myself. I saw her and the rest of her family in the distance but never went close to them. Instead, I was looking at all this very pretty jewellery that was on sale; nothing like in the Australia Target stores in real life. At first, I only had a small amount of jewellery at the registers and thought I could maybe afford a bit more. A little turned into a lot as I came back with a handful of it. The lady said that the total cost of that amount jewellery was 1000 but I knew she was talking about some foreign currency. I said to her, “I want to know what it is in Australian dollars”.

After a while of confusion, it was revealed that all that jewellery was 4000 Australian dollars and I could only afford 1000 in Australian currency. After clearing out heaps of jewellery and returning it back to the shelves, I was under the 1000 AUD limit; the only unfortunate thing was that I had less jewellery than when I started. That's all I can remember about this dream.



Dream Trophies Achieved:
- None

Morning of November 2, 2016. Wednesday.



I am in the semidarkness of an unknown bedroom but I am able to see clearly in my immediate area. I have my dream journal open in front of me as I am lying on my stomach on the floor. I perceive that I am only about twelve years old. My single bed is next to me to my left, closer to the doorway than another single bed and closer to the center of the room, though my head is presently nearest the foot of my bed and my feet are closest to the doorway. My father’s bed is closer to the corner of the room, his head near the wall where the doorway is. He is lying on his back with his head opposite mine. Our beds are about two feet apart. My father (April 26, 1901-February 14, 1979) begins to cough. His coughing intensifies after a short time.

I sense something is wrong as an unknown male (about twenty-five) comes into the room and helps my father get out of bed as he is coughing, apparently to get him ready for an ambulance. As he coughs when walking past me to my right, a large drop of blood suddenly flies from his mouth and lands on the lower right of the right page of my open dream journal. A smaller drop hits the back of my right hand near my fingers. I have concern for my father and a lesser concern about the page’s status, though I get the impression that the blood spot might eventually fade. I remain where I am, slightly puzzled. I start to think of how my father is old and his organs are not functioning like they used to. I wake shortly after he had left the room with the unknown male. I vaguely sense my mother is present but I do not see her.

---

Inexplicable threads: Zsuzsanna had seen an event in a movie related to someone dreaming about blood coming from their mouth prior to my sleep. (I had not known of this prior to my dream.) Additionally, I developed a bad cough shortly after this dream, the worse cough I have had in my life so far (though there was no blood, only mucus). As a result, I consider this dream as both prescient and influenced by Zsuzsanna’s thoughts, with three layers of synchronicity (as I had also recently reflected on a dream from March 1975 relating to watermelon as blood and flesh and coming out between pages of my dream journal).

Biological prescience relating to my health validates that my father represented me in this dream. It is additionally validated by the doorway waking symbolism, as I am usually the one to exit a dream as my emergent consciousness.

RAS mediation was atypical. Instead of the personified preconscious directing attention at my dream self, he escorted my father from my dream (additionally validating that my father represented my conscious self identity in a prescient sense, even though I was completely unaware of my current real life in my dream).

This dream’s waking symbolism is oriented to my dream self’s right as it most often is. (This may be the result of sleeping on my left side.)

---

I was with a group of friends returning from an adventure. We're coming down from a mountain and sort of swinging or flying down and the scene below is massive. In front of us is this expansive view of an abandoned city. I remember it felt like this place had been abandoned for thousands of years. The strangest part was that it had a bunch of small buildings and sky scrapers, and cutting straight through each building were these massive gaps. They weren't the streets but they were going right through the buildings.

We get to the other side of this abandoned city that had gaps through it and we're now at a cliff. Above us is trees and some sort of village up on the cliff. I somehow latch and jump up to grab this wooden post. I'm now hanging onto this wooden post very high up on the cliff. My friend Owen is there with me. I start to tell him about Ayahuasca explaining a story about the snake.

Another fragment I'm in this dim shower area. Someone is hitting themselves with a rock on their head. He hits the ground and says that he is seeing into another dimension. Another person standing over him is concerned.