Coinception

In this dream, I took note of what I remember each time I woke up. Thus it is far more detailed than most other dreams, even though the memories faded pretty quickly.

Watching a video, or maybe being part of one, on Youtube. This Asian girl with long hair was talking about "How not to get kicked in the balls", or rather WHY. However, at the 4 min 26 second mark, she says "how not to get kicked in the budget".

My old bedroom, chart paper at the side, window at the back, cupboard at the right. I see a white poodle trying to get into the video scene. It gets stopped every time, getting mad, but I grab it, apparently unafraid.

The dog tries to enter the scene from a pile of paper, first from the side, and then diagonally. Unsuccessful after the third or fourth time, it runs out the door. Somehow, this dog rather resembles a human character.

In fact, this Dog, or whatever it was, was to be charged with a repeated drunk driving offense. Later, it runs, or rides, up a sheet of white furled paper.

There's an announcement from the blue. Somebody has a love problem. No idea where those details went, but now, they're gone.

A random part of my journal: "consp. causes". No idea what it indicates.

Flashback: March 16, 2009. Security camera video shows terrorists plotting to bomb a concrete pillar, somewhere in southwestern central Ontario. Maybe it was near Alliston, we'll never know.

I'm sitting at the site of a swing, or some-other place. This sandfly, part wasp, part fly, tries to fly into my nose. I ward it off, but at the last minute, it stings me, there is a feeling of spray being injected into me...

I wake up, and go on Dream Views.com. Writing about my dreams, my thoughts are rather clear, the transitions vivid, the meaning intact. Yet soon I realize this is not to be.

Waking up for real this time, it's about 3:45 am. Take some notes, go right back to sleep.

I'm in a music room. Some girl takes my flute, initials AR, and throws it toward the percussion area. It's broken, and I say "FUCK". This flute cost $70, or maybe $430. I'm afraid to tell my dad, because he bought it for me.

Sometime later down the line, there's an engine. Perhaps I'm examining how it works - I don't know.

I'm reading this book about the physics of weather, a possible flashback to my poorly-done presentation about the physics of artificial trees that absorb carbon dioxide. As usual, the book goes into a computer model simulation.

This time, there's talk about global warming not being real. Of course, I strongly disagree with that position. I see Greenland melting, refreezing, melting, refreezing again, rising and sinking above and below the waves. There are vivid colours here: sky blue, navy blue, orange, red, green, tan, yellow-green, yellow with a tinge of green, and brown. Near the Gulf Stream area, enveloping both Greenland and Iceland, a supervolcano destroys the land there in a big oval fashion. Iceland is first to melt, its people unaware, or possibly no people there at all. It's a Supervolcano, much like the Siberian Traps during the Permian-Triassic extinction era.

I wake up. It's 6:45.

There's a vivid drawing of some sort, the details now gone. Examining currency, bills, coins and American $1 bills. They're everywhere.

At my house, time is frozen, and my mom is here. Suddenly, somebody knocks on the door, and gives her two white pills that smell very industrial. She takes them, and weird effects happen. We try to lower the dose, so that days two to five will require one pill a day only. No idea what it's for. She bikes outside, and I see some guy skateboarding outside my window, and they go down the street and it's a sunny day.

Talking to my teacher now about French. Apparently one of the old teachers came back, and nothing happens. Or rather, there is not much to talk about, or maybe, there is.

Waking up again, and it's 8:20.

At some kind of zoo, or maybe it's a video game facade. I'm on the side of the lizards, but there are also mammals, lions and penguins. For some reason, the lizards decide to hide out on the near-vertical wall, bathing, possibly reminiscent of the sphenodontians, the last remaining species being the tuatara of New Zealand. Am I responsible? 30-40 % go extinct in a few hours. A travesty.

Later, some kind of land mammal, forget the name. Every day, the lions jump over them, and a few of them get injured and die. We try closing the door, we try negotiating with Atlan, and nothing happens. Later, we storm the beach, and head outside. Success.

I'm here at a beach party, outside now, warm weather. I ask this girl whether she's still interested in going to prom with me in a few months. Yet I get completely tongue-tied, and she ditches me, preferring instead to go with somebody else. Maybe those promises weren't meant to be kept that long. For a year.

Waking up again, but forget to check the time. Guessing it's around 9:30.

Something happens prior, no recollection. An old acquaintance of mine is standing in front of me, making me read some stuff that I find objectionable. Yet I read another text, this time in faux Greek, meaning the letters are greek, but the words English. I read this with no difficulty. Yet I leave out a compound word. The text turns out then, to be about spicy food. Oh no!

Wake up for the final time now - it's 11:00 am. This dream had had at least twenty-five parts, none equal.

Dream: February 2, 2012

There were at least five parts to this dream. Unfortunately I only remember one of those parts.

On my street, a clear blue day. Looking through a telescope at the sky, and the ground, at the Sun (DON'T DO THIS IN WAKING LIFE!). Not as bright as I thought it would be.

An unusual spattering of dreams from this morning.

Somebody was stepping on my crotch. It hurt.

Later, there was an Occupy protest in my town. Somewhere in the world, 4 more people were killed, and Wikipedia was going to mention the fact. This brought the worldwide toll from 96 to 100, quite remarkable considering this was supposed to be a revolution - but mostly, of the mind.

I'm suffering from sleep paralysis, unable to turn my head more than 10 degrees, or was it 25? I'm apparently facing up, grabbing my laptop and going on Twitter, tweeting about the fact I have "testicular" sleep paralysis. Well, my fingers still can move, but when I try to turn my head, I start shaking like a wildman.

Shaking. Just shaking.

Facade - a giant room, chandelier on the top, wooden with big gates at the sides. Some kind of medieval fortres or university.

I go on my computer again, this time on the website Weather Underground. I see that there are two tropical systems: one near Australia, and another over western Lake Michigan. How unusual for this time of year. The Great Lakes storm's name is Isabel, retired in 2003. Here it is a tropical storm, about to do an outside loop, and track into my area in four days. By then, it will have weakened.

That's odd - it actually is expected to rain Sunday.

Later, or possibly earlier. I'm reading some source material about Asperger's, and hypermasculine disorders. Where have I encountered this before?

I awake to the sound of my alarm.

I'm sitting in an airplane, heading to another country. We approach the airport, and there seem to be some clouds and trees. Suddenly, I feel the plane lurching downward, thinking we're going to crash. Yet the plane manages to escape within a few metres of the ground. We land slowly, and prepare to get out of the plane.

Flashback. Here, I'm drinking hawthorn nectar, but it's a facade.

Suddenly, I'm back home. It's as if I never boarded the plane.