DreamLab Njegere

So after my first LD (since childhood) three days ago I thought I would be getting LDs pretty regularly. Not the case. My dreams seemed to have shortened, or my recall has gotten muddy. And my WILD attempts have been wildly unsuccessful. I don't even get vibrations anymore. I'm a little bit paranoid that my medications (Levothyroxine and Stratterra) are interfering with my ability to LD. But I have researched both, and they seem to aid lucid dreaming, not hinder it. Oh well, I soldier on.

I am in a park. All these baby birds surround me. Their legs are extra long, so that it looks like they are walking on stilts. They are very hungry, and chirping at me for some food. I can see their little beaks opening in protest. They are so hungry they try to peck at my clothes. For some reason, I have one of those plastic red bags that my CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) uses to deliver their potatos. The baby birds are ripping it to pieces. I wonder where these birds' mothers are, and look around to find something to feed them. I see a giant plastic jar of peanuts. I walk over to it and grab it, opening it and dumping the contents on the lawn. The birds attack it and have it all eaten in like two minutes. Apparently there were apples in the jar as well, because they roll out and a pack of wolves arrive and eat them. Why the wolves prefer the apples to the babies birds is a mystery. Apparently the peanuts and the apples were supposed to be for a picnic my family was going to have. My sister-in-law had brought them. When she found out what I had done, she said I could have them.

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Somebody tells me I might have something called ver-Johnsonsing. Somebody else complains about English men coming home from foreign parts looking ridiculous in native garments. There is a tent community protected by this old stone wall. The wall is toppling, however, because a modern building had been built right up against it and is pressing the old wall back. I wander through the city of tents, following a guy on a bike.

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All my seminary friends are sitting together at those plastic foldable tables. My sister-in-law is busy taking pictures of us with a camera. We start pounding the tables and singing a praise song "Everyday, it's you I live for..." (Aaaah, get it out of my head!) Some people are using drumsticks to hit the tables with. I started hitting the table early, because my sister-in-law tells me to stop.

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This boy I know from somewhere, maybe highschool, says something sexist and offends me and my friend. I challenge him to a fight. Somebody tries to hold me back, I think it might be my mother, but I ask them to leave and the pressure disappears. We start to fight. I dodge and twist and pound my fists into his face. Everybody closes in like they want to finish him off. But I tell everyone to give him space and ask if he concedes. He nods. I tell him he has to apologize to my friend and to women for being a bigot. He does, his face red with shame.