iarpo

Comment Dream Lucid

Managed to get more sleep last night and I'm definitely getting closer to LDing. Last night I had a familar feeling:

When I first joined DV in 2008 I was experiencing low levels of lucidity (see DJ archive). For example, something would happen in a dream that seemed hyper real or wasn't quite right and a disembodied feeling in the back of my mind would flag it up. In the dream this usually translated as, "Huh, that's strange" but I'd just carry on. It got to the point where it felt like there were two of me dreaming: the one in the dream/behind the camera and the one behind all that watching from afar. A nagging feeling crept into most dreams that all was not quite right. Eventually this came through as full LDs (as brief as they were).

08/08 Donkey Stilts and Rachel Green

I'm zach braff. I'm working in the same office as Rachel Green (Jennifer Anniston, though this was specifically Rachel Green). The office itself is tall and imposing, I don't remember ever seeing the ceiling. It's filled with files and old desks. It looks like an office would look in the film Se7en. Dark green chairs and that washed out grey brown of old wood. There's an almost sepia tint to the place.

Myself and an unseen other are trying to usurp Green, doing our best to make her loook bad and get her sacked. Flagging up any mistakes in her work to our manager (what an arsehole). One specific mistake she made was her failing to capitalise the word which in a report, which doesn't make sense but hey - dream.

If I can succeed in getting her job my pay will bump up to 140 (I assume that's 140k, but in the dream I only said 140)

[Fragment missing]

Next thing I know I'm zach again, this time with Dr Cox from Scrubs. We're in a tall city that feels like NYC, the buildings all have the distinctive architechture a brit associatesd with the place. Stone, very rectangular, lots of ledges, zig zag fire escapes and AC units bolted to the outsides of buildings and of course, steam pouring out of vents everywhere. It's late dusk, the colours in this dream are even more washed out, like colour photo that's sunbleached close to sepia. The air feels heavy, really heavy. (I'm starting to notice these as potential dream signs: heavy air and distinct colour palletes)

We're some 10 stories high, stood on a 10x6 sheet of wood with stilts. There's a donkey on its back tied to the board. From each corner pieces of 2x4 meet in the middle forming a roof-like structure on the board. Myself and Dr Cox are stood on either side as counter balances to each other.

I feel like the stilts are attached to my legs as we walk this bizarre contraption across the city. We hold onto incredibly long guide poles resting between the roofs of buildings seom 200 metres apart. They're not attached to the stilts by anything more than the two of us holding on.

Inevitably we fall from the platform, spiralling round and down. Rather than yelling and panicking we calmly tell each other to grab this ledge, turn that way, try the next one. (In the back of mind something isn't right. IT's the fact that the camera has moved quite far away to take in the action, but our voices are still heard as though right next to me, as though badly dubbed. This is the disembodied second dreamer I was talking about).

When we do grab a ledge, hanging off a small spire on a slanting roof we'#re fine, then suddenly realise how stupid that was and start yelling at each other. We calm down and start to look for something else.



#2 Motorbike Suitcases

I'm myself again, stood in Valencia with Rachel Green, it's an overcast evening. Recalls a bit sketchy but I do remember the air seemed to have grown heavier with each dream and the sky hung low with heavy clouds. The streets are filled with architecture from Medieval to Roman to Modernisme, all very European (you know I'm not really into architecture as a hobby but my dreams always have a very distinctive style relevant to the dream. I'm learning quite a bit in trying to describe the style in my DJ). The colours seem even more washed out than previous dreams, mainly differing shades of brown.



We're walking near an open cobbled square with our cigarettes not quite sure if we're in the right time zone. All around us people are putting away there belingings in hatches beneath the street. Certain parts of the cobbles open up into vault like hatches, either swinging upwards or revealing a set of steps down to a shallow recess. They're everywhere, filled with shelves. Some have futuristic concoels, others are simply ornate lock and key systems.

We approach the traffic lights when the sky cracks with thunder, the air pressing in all around us, electric. Rachel dashes across the street just before the traffic lights change back and I'm left waiting. I pull out my cigarettes, a brand of American Spirit Menthols I've never seen before, the pack dark blue. The filters are filled with large uniform holes, each pumping out smoke like a miniature factory. The camera zooms into high defition macro shots making the disembodied me yell something's wrong (for those who don't smoke, quite a few cigarette tabs are perforated to varying degrees to cool the smoke down and make it less harsh. I always cover them up personally which is a bit of a pain when you do come across them). As I light it I feel like The Shit - superpowered, and I stride across the street.

On the other side I need to look for some underwear, but we don't have suitcases full of clothes, instead we have motorbikes.



The engine block has been taken out and replaced with well crafted rigid plastic compartments that sit flush to the frame. As I shuffle through the angular compartments the air feels heavy, really heavy.