The Fourth Factor

Another dream on the verge of being lucid without quite being there. In the earliest part I can remember clearly, I’m on a computer: I’m looking up some band I’m interested in, trying to find more of their music. But the dream shifts to another scenario. It still isn’t lucid, but it’s pretty clear I’m not actually invested in it as real. I’m initially in an outdoor farm-like area with flamingos some distance away, observing interactions between characters. I only identify with one when she’s asked a question, changing to her viewpoint and responding as her. There’s a sense of making things up as I go along. I need to go somewhere now, and so I call to the nearby leopard, which I call Arthur, telling him to come with me. (I use the German pronunciation. I am about 90% sure I decided to name it after Schopenhauer.) It doesn’t want to get up, but I pull it to its feet, which it tolerates, and we walk away.

Next, I remember entering a building. It’s somewhat reminiscent of a building on a campsite, just a long rectangle, possibly something like an uninsulated metal frame, and has no interior divisions. It’s mostly empty and white, and there’s an even stronger sense of almost-lucidity here. It’s as if whatever plot there may have been has definitely gone off the rails by now, and I’m driving things, though not in a fully conscious way.

I go over to the bed in the nearest corner – other than the one by the door I entered from – and sit down on it. What follows is maybe best described as a strange kind of visual thinking – a little like reading a picture book, where I cease to really be present in the room and am absorbed in the stories that are playing out in mental space. It’s hard to describe since it isn’t exactly like anything that happens while awake – but it’s almost like there’s another presence there telling the stories.

They seem to be some kind of philosophical parable, and also a sort of story-behind-stories, representing something that was once commonly manifested in literature from an earlier time. The first one was so utterly bizarre that I can’t remember a thing about it now – but in the dream, I understand it perfectly since the meaning in all its facets and interrelations is just a part of it as it is presented. I can see it all mapped out, like a complex constellation. But some of the points are placed in the wrong locations for it to reflect reality. It’s something I was already aware of, but it’s a little sad to see it laid out like this so clearly.

There’s enough of a gap for the room to enter my awareness again before the second story begins. This one is apparently communicating the same thing as the first one did, but in a different way. I can remember the beginning of this one – how the wolves were all howling at the moon, but the moon had fallen asleep and couldn’t hear them…

5.30.21

This was a dream that was only a hair’s breadth from being lucid – one of the dreams where I can’t be entirely sure that the only reason I didn’t realize it was a dream was that I was taking it for granted that it was one the whole time.

I start out standing on a grassy hill outside a very large house at night. A man is nearby – another dreamer. Together, we fly up and then over towards the house. I have to help him part of the way because he can’t get high enough, but we make it onto the roof and go inside.

I can’t remember much of the journey, which seemed somewhat reminiscent of a video game, and after a while, we reach a room with a bunch of other people. They're all dreamers, too. They’re chatting, messing around, having fun, but I have something more serious on my mind. First, though, I ask a woman to heal me, since I was injured by a monster on the way. (It isn't actually painful, still in line with video game logic.) I joke that I never got the hang of healing magic myself, but don’t mention I have a reason for not wanting to use too much of my energy right now. I go past them, up through a door in the ceiling.

Once again, I'm standing on the roof. It’s night out here too, but otherwise, it looks like a completely different place than the one I entered from. Almost close enough to touch is a tornado. It’s completely still though: it looks like it was sculpted out of some steely metal, frozen in place. I did this at some point in the past, freezing it in time, but it won’t be long now until it starts to unfreeze. I gauge its strength and determine that I won’t have trouble taking care of it before it unfreezes. But there’s another problem: the effect is already wearing off with some of the monsters around here, and I probably can’t take care of everything at once. I may have to get some of the others down below up here to fight them – but I don’t like that idea. They’d probably be happy to, but they’re relatively inexperienced, and I don’t want to get them into a potentially dangerous situation.

I start by taking out some of the smaller enemies with lightening – things like little wild pigs running around. Then I see that another monster is watching me – an enormous cyclops goat monster. I have the impression that he’s sad, like he’s taking it personally that he’s been unfrozen all this time and I haven’t even noticed.

This is maybe weird enough to wake me up.

20.5.21