International Oneironaut Shared Dreaming Journal

Nephanim's Dreams

Again, nothing directly related to Chichen-Itza.

The Disheartening of an Eager Instructor

This dream followed a man who decided to work for a school over the summer. It wasn’t necessarily my current school, although I was enrolled there. The teacher spoke over the phone with his significant other about how great an opportunity it was to teach children from troubled backgrounds. She didn’t really understand his motivation, but it was clear that she supported his work. He got off the phone well before any of his new students arrived. The classroom leaked; there was a puddle in the back of the room. He only had two markers to work with – one red and one blue. In general, it wasn’t much. He was determined to make the best of the situation. As he rehearsed his introductory speech, he realized he didn’t have much time to talk. In order to teach everything in the curriculum, he would have to adhere to a strict schedule. He looked over the syllabus about fifty times before finally throwing it on the floor in frustration. He decided not to bother; he would just teach them everything at his own pace.

When the students all arrived, he introduced himself and the course: statistics. I’m not sure why, but I was one of the students in this class. I recall thinking that it would be easy, at least. The teacher told all of the students that he would make the class easy for the ones who were bad at math. He started explaining random things on the board – alpha levels of confidence, beta values, test statistics, the whole nine yards. I understood the entirety of the discussion, but most of the students were left with drool hanging from the corners of their mouths. One girl raised her hand and asked when class would be over. Not at all disheartened, the teacher glanced up at the clock and told her it would be two and a half more hours. The girl promptly went to sleep.

The dream jumped. It was much later in the semester, and our final exam was rapidly approaching. Our teacher had lost much of his enthusiasm, and it seemed like most of the students were basically at the same level at which they entered the class. Every time he started talking about the test, they asked ridiculous questions that should’ve been answered on the second or third day of class. Since so many students were worried about failing the exam, he promised to curve it – a terrible mistake. I wondered how badly I could ruin the curve… Students began packing their bags halfway through the class period, and many of them left. The teacher became frustrated with them and gave a heated lecture about respect. I was too busy watching the water dripping from the ceiling to care about his irritability; the puddle in the back of the room was becoming more of a pond over the surface of the whole classroom. I wondered if the fumes from the standing water were responsible for the vacant expressions on these students’ faces.

The dream jumped. I came out of the cafeteria and happened to bump into the statistics teacher. He clearly hadn’t shaved in several days. When I asked about the exam, he gave me a dark look and warned me not to rush him in grading it. I assured him of my patience. There was nothing about it that could surprise me. I knew I would get an A… He scolded me for stealing his markers. Apparently, I had been holding onto them for several days. I handed them over without the caps, and then I dropped one of the caps when I was trying to give it to him. The markers oozed clear fluid.

New Speakers and Swiping Cards

I was waiting at Autumn’s house for her to get back from school or somewhere similar. She had just received a package in the mail, but I didn’t want to open it without her. I just listened to music while I waited. When she got home, she immediately asked if her new speakers had arrived. Realizing that it was obviously her package, I tore the bag open. Surrounded in bubble wrap, we found the speakers intended to replace the ones that blew out last week. I pulled off the bubble wrap and started popping each bubble. Autumn began reading my dream journal while logged into my account. I was afraid that she would read one of my private dreams, so I asked her to stop.

The dream jumped. I was on a train that looked more like a bus. While listening to music as usual, I stared out the window for most of the ride in an attempt to attract as little attention as possible. I noticed a panicked woman on the other side of the bus trying to swipe her transit card against the wall. She looked like she was in significant distress, but I got an impression that she might have just been in a hurry. She dropped the card on the floor, but she kept swinging her arm in the same motion as though swiping the card…

*Woke up, went back to bed*

Property of the United States

With a rattling sound, I was presented with my parents. I wasn’t quite asleep yet, but I could hear the sounds of hypnagogia setting in. I heard my parents arguing about money. My mom was pregnant, but they didn’t know what to do; they couldn’t afford a child. My dad said he would take care of it. They sold me to the government in exchange for financial stability. Since they were allowed to keep me, they figured it was a good deal. The experiments began early. From a remote location, they monitored my dreams and sent information to mold them. I was taken to a facility every night in my dreams where they taught me to kill. I found myself in a room with nothing but a gun and four walls. A white target appeared on the wall, and I fired without hesitation. It was a dead bull’s eye. The next target appeared, and I hit it dead center, too.

“Kill and destroy,” I said. “Kill and destroy. Kill and destroy. I cannot be killed. I cannot be defeated. Kill and destroy.” The targets came one by one until they started using real dream characters. I killed them too. They were making me into a soldier. It wouldn’t be long before I was ready to be used.

Life continued as normal during the waking hours. My parents never knew. I never knew how I was different, but I knew I was. I was the product of my training.

“It should’ve come as no surprise,” another voice said.

Out of Body: Immortal Ruler

The dream began in my bedroom where I was sleeping. I climbed out of bed and started walking around it. I could see my body in bed, asleep. Autumn lay beside me.

“I’m out of my body,” I thought. The words seemed to flow outward from my head. I circled around to the other side of the bed for a better look. Everything was impressively vivid. I stopped again to ask myself: was I really in a dream? I knew that I was, but it was stunning. I continued circling the bed, stepping half into the wall and half into the headboard. There was a little resistance here, but not much. I slowly made my way through to where I’d started. I thought about continuing to do this, but I headed out the door instead.

At this point, the environment became more like my parents’ house in North Carolina, but I didn’t really notice. I wanted to get down to the kitchen and find something I could use as evidence that I’d left my body. I saw my dead rinsing dishes in the sink. The sound of the rushing water, too, was very crisp. I made a note that he was up early. I could go downstairs and meet him after my projection – if that was even what this was. I drummed my hand on the kitchen table as I scanned the things on top of it. I found a ceramic mug with a hexagram on it. Bizarre as it was, I decided I could use it to verify the experience. I checked the inscription under the hexagram.

“Magic and power,” I read.

“Hey, Josh,” said my dad. I turned at the sound of my birth name. He could see me? I didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to notice me anymore, either; I sensed that he had forgotten about my presence already. I looked back at the mug, and the words were different. I began to doubt that I’d left my body at all.

“Immortal ruler,” I read as I set the mug down. I floated up through the ceiling to my parents’ bedroom. As I went in, I heard the whispers of several people around me, but no one was there. This was starting to get a little weird… I gradually lost lucidity as I followed the whispering voices. They took me to the room that should’ve been Austin’s, but it was my grandma’s computer room instead.

“Look behind you,” the whispers said together. I did, but no one was there. When I started to turn back to the computer, they hissed at me. “Joe Beaumont is watching you.” Puzzled, I floated out of the room and headed back for my parents’ bedroom. It was still empty.

I had a false awakening, but at this time, I had been completely sucked into the dream. I was eager to share my projection experience with DVASA and see what they thought of it. I couldn’t find my laptop, so I went outside… I was in the backyard at my parents’ old house in North Carolina. Tables were set up all over the yard. It seems Autumn’s family decided to visit. I didn’t even say hi to her parents as I walked by. I just took a seat at one of the tables with a laptop and popped it open. I understood that it was Phil’s. Autumn sat down with me and warned me not to do anything suspicious on her dad’s laptop. I decided I could write out my experience later… So I grabbed an apple and ate the whole thing. I tried to eat another apple, but for some reason, the inside of it was made of wire frame sheets of rusted iron. I threw away the apple when I discovered this. Despite how disgusting it was, I worried that my mom would be mad.

Brochure Advertising Myself

I was enrolled in a new IPRO. For some reason, Limia switched to a new project, and it just happened to be the one I signed up for. The desks in the classroom were arranged in three groups of six. I sat down with a group that had almost been completed already. The man sitting across from me was from Nigeria, and his accent was way too thick for me to understand. It took him three tries for me to realize he was just asking for my name. When I told him, he replied with his own, but I couldn’t understand it. Our names were printed on the desks anyway, so I figured I would just check later. There was already an assignment planned for Thursday, one of my group members told me, but Limia hadn’t explained it yet.

Limia announced that we would have to prepare a brochure advertising ourselves before the next class – Thursday. It was an individual assignment that required research and citations. I didn’t understand why I needed to do research to tell people about myself. What better source could there be for a pamphlet on me than me? She stressed that it was absolutely required. Although she called it a brochure, the instructions said to print a three page report. They also warned us that if the assignment wasn’t submitted in brochure form, we would receive zero credit. I was frustrated by the inconsistencies in the assignment.

Throwing Rocks and the Grateful Collie

My mom, dad, Autumn, and I were in the backyard at my parents’ old house in Louisiana. My dad threw a football to me, so I threw it to Autumn. This continued for a while before they got sick of the football and started throwing rocks instead. The objective was to throw the rocks as close to people as possible without actually hitting them. I didn’t like the game; someone was bound to get hit eventually. I asked my dad to stop, but he kept chucking rocks at me. I held up my hand at Autumn and my mom, urging them to stop. If I could get them to listen, perhaps they would help with my dad. My mom listened first, then Autumn. My dad didn’t listen even when I waved my hands at him and shouted it three times. I gave up and went inside.

While I sat inside the house, a collie came up to me and sat down. Her coat was beautifully kept. She said that she was going to try an acting career next and thanked me for all my help. I scratched behind her ears as I wondered how I was talking to a dog.