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    Non-Lucid Dreams

    1. Melody Fragments

      by , 05-29-2019 at 04:55 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      I had a couple dreams with music in them last night, and was able to transcribe some of it. I had forgotten almost all of the dreams themselves by the time I'd finished, but here's what I have:



      And, from a later awakening:



      Couple interesting things about these: first, that they're both in D major, which is the scale I've been practicing speedwork on for the past three weeks or so. I don't have perfect pitch, so this suggests some kind of residual pitch memory at work.

      Also, they both seem familiar, particularly the second. I want to say it's from a rock song? But it's hard to tell whether music in dreams only seems familiar the way things in general seem familiar in dreams or because I've actually heard it before.
      Tags: music
      Categories
      non-lucid
    2. Cold Water Casino

      by , 05-15-2019 at 03:06 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím on a trip with my parents and an unfamiliar young man. We were all supposed to go to a casinoóand they did actually go. But I didnít care much for that plan, and so Iíve been off doing something else and only arrived back at the hotel room in time for their last trip there, late on the final evening.

      I have the impression that this is a place theyíre familiar with, but this will be my first time there. Iíve been told not to bring my purse with me for whatever reason, but I donít like going around without writing materials on hand, and so I say that Iíll just take my wallet out before I go. But it seems my parents are so eager to get back that, rather than waiting the couple of minutes this will take, they go on without me, leaving the young man to drive us there.

      Outside, itís raining hard, and has been for a while, judging by all the standing water in the streets. As we go on, it only gets deeper, until the car, which is a fairly low one, starts having trouble moving forward. Some light on the dashboard has come on. He curses at the caróand quite probably my parents, who would have had no trouble handling this in theirs. I suggest that we just pull off the road onto higher ground, as some other cars seem to be doing, and walk the rest of the way there. It isnít very far. He agrees to it.

      The next part I remember clearly is being inside the casino, in a large room with a grand staircase, crowded with fancily dressed people. On the upper floor, near a restaurant area, I meet up with my parents again. Itís sort of like a buffet, with tables in a horseshoe shape, each one with an attendant behind them, offering samples of various kinds of foods to the guests. Mother is going to get a chocolate milkshakeóapparently, a favorite of hers thereóbut my father isnít interested. The idea doesnít appeal much to me either, and anyways, this is all new to me: I want to try things out before I order anything.

      He heads off somewhere else. I get some kind of a soup, and then head over to where theyíre serving white wine. I try the sample they have there, which is pretty goodóbut they have all kinds of interesting drinks here, and this would be a good chance to try things I wouldnít necessarily want a full glass of. And my mother is trying to get my attention from across the room, so I leave the table without ordering anything and head over in her direction.

      Then, suddenly, I feel a spray of cold wateróand the people around me do as well, judging by how theyíre crying out. It seems someone is spraying people with a hose. I move out of the way, wondering what that was about. Maybe the casino staff themselves are responsible. The whole reason this place exists is to take money from people, after allóI think itís best not to lose sight of thatóand it wouldnít surprise me at all for one to start charging people to keep things going nicely, once theyíve got them used to it.

      Once out of range, I pause and kneel down to make sure the cat is still with me. He is indeed still there and comes to get pet. Heís an orange cat, an adult, though on the small side, and has been here with me this whole time. So far, nobody has noticed himóor else they just donít care. But itís still a little dangerous for him to be here with me, and so Iíve been making sure he stays close, waiting until I feel him against the back of my ankles before moving on.

      11.5.19
      Categories
      non-lucid
    3. In Media Res

      by , 12-03-2018 at 04:58 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Itís sometimes disappointing to wake up with only fragmented memories of dreamsóbut sometimes, trying to image what the context might have been is almost worth it.

      In the beginning of the dream, Iím walking into a building. Many people are already thereóit seems like some event is taking place, possibly multiple events. A couple men are entering at the same time as I am. One of them seems to be able to see meóalthough he doesnít say anything to meóand the other doesnít. Iím keeping track of the people who are able to see me since Iím really not supposed to be here, and Iím trying to keep a low profile.

      The space Iím entering is basically a circular building with a separate central area, although the specifics kept changing throughout the dream. The first area I walk through, going clockwise, seems to be a restaurant. I pass people sitting at tables, including one thatís occupied by dreadlocked guys dressed in Jamaican colors who seem to be having a lot of fun.

      [Note: today, the day after the dream, I was given a story to work on about reggae becoming a UNESCO intangible cultural heritageóso maybe thatís what they were so happy about.]

      There was a lot that happened after that, most of which I canít remember very clearly. But, towards the end, the space was like an auditorium, with a lecture area in the center and areas for students to sit all around it and higher up. I had put the table I had surreptitiously borrowed from Nancy Pelosi among the tables in the student area while I went and did some other stuff, but in the meantime, students had come in, including my friend Dirk. And somebody, noticing that the table is more wheelchair-friendly than the standard tables there, which have metal bars crisscrossed underneath them, has set him up with it.

      Now, I had totally been intending to give Nancy Pelosi her table back. Itís what I came back here to do. But Dirk is clearly getting some good out of it. Also, Nancy Pelosi was more of a jerk than I had expected. I figure she can just buy a new table or something.

      1.12.18
    4. Interdimensional Bathhouse; Music Box #5

      by , 11-12-2018 at 03:15 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in what seems to be a bathhouseóa basic, no-frills rectangular room with a concrete floor, on the large side, with a number of small pools and folding screens that can be moved around. Although the setting also seemed shifty and indefinite in a more basic wayóa ďI had this dream early in the nightĒ kind of way.

      Weird things are constantly happening there, strange figures materializing and disappearing again in a sort of timeless convergence - it almost seems like there's nothing outside of this place, even though in one sense I arrived here at a definite point of time - but nobody else seems aware of it. But this is normal: I hadnít been able to see them once, but I had been through a long processóall of it, every stage. I go over it in memory: some parts of it had been unpleasant or even frightening, but thereís nothing frightening about it now that I can see the whole of it instead of just pieces. Itís familiaróit even feels like home somehow.

      I seem to have come here with two young women, and at some pointóitís very difficult to say what order things happened in in this dreamóI say to one that this is a special place, that you can feel it in the atmosphere. Iím curious if she can feel it too, on some level. At some other point, perhaps earlier or perhaps later, one asks me if thereís anyone here Iím interested in romantically. I say that there is one person, but Iíve only spoken to him a couple times. And he hasnít shown up here for a couple hundred years nowóbut I feel itís best not to mention that.

      Also, at one point, one of them is arranging stuff around a pool we're going to use. There isn't enough space for two people to do it without getting in each other's way, but I don't want to just sit there, so I clean up some of the central area at the same time.

      Later on, towards morning, I have another dream. Iím now in a large house with my bouzouki instructor for a lesson. I have the impression that itís not his house or mineóthat heís an employee here. There are interruptions to our lessonówe have to temporarily leave the house at one point and go somewhere else in a car.

      But we do make it back inside eventually, and he tells me to go get something. He gives me directions to the room and tells me to get #5, indicating approximately where in the room Iíll be able to find it.

      Itís only a few rooms away, and I make it there without difficulty. It wouldnít be an exaggeration to call this house a mansion, but the room I now find myself in wouldnít be out of place in a palace. Itís richly decorated, 18th-century style, in blue and silver. Thereís another doorway on the other end, and one of the longer walls, to my left, is covered with shelves, all of which are lined with ornate silver music boxes. Theyíre all individually numbered, and #5 is one of the farthest to the left, about mid-way up.

      It occurs to me that people who decorate rooms like this usually donít like other people coming in and messing with them. But, at the same time, this place has the look of an archive. It will probably be OK, then. I take the music box off the shelf. It has its number and what seems to be some notes about it carved onto the top in a rather messy handwriting.

      I open it thereóbut unfortunately, I canít really remember what happened then, although the dream kept going. Before carrying it back, I notice what looks like a bone flute lying on the floor, the only thing out of place here. Perhaps a child was playing with it and left it there, I think.

      (8.11.18)
    5. In a Dark Place

      by , 09-09-2018 at 02:45 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      There is a womanósome dark entity had reached out for her, badly frightening her. She has shut herself away somewhere to get away from it, but it can still reach her. I can hear her screaming thereóbut Iím on my way to help her.

      The first thing I have to do is get out of a sort of wooden elevator running down the center of the building. I seem to have entered this way, going down, but none of the doors are opening. Somehow, I can see perfectly fine into the space beyond the shaft, but the walls are definitely there, and the doors are not only solid but quite heavy. Iím alone here in the elevator, but in communication with someone elseósomeone I know to be my mother, although she isnít my actual, waking life mother. She seems to be playing some kind of guiding or teaching role.

      Above my head, everything just fades into darkness, like the heights of a cavern. Apparently, it doesnít occur to most people who come here to look up for a while, and so this comes as a bit of a shock to them, but I can remember having been through this series of events before, and so this place holds no surprises for me. Besides that, I have access to a deeper understanding of the space Iím in: itís defined by solfege, as if the intervals and their syllables are acting as some kind of abstract structural parameters, and they are also structuring what I am able to do in it and do to it.

      Once I finally manage to get out, I find myself in what seems to be an iteration of my old house in M---. This version looks twisted, hollowed out, darkóactually, there doesnít seem to be a source of light anywhere, which would explain why, even though I feel vividly present here, it has an odd visual quality to it, and the only non-black color I can see here is blue. Iím using night vision. The blue is brightest in the fog hovering throughout the house, moving as though stirred by currents of air. When this fog is concentrated, it indicates the presence of a ghostóor perhaps it simply is the ghost.

      This whole place gives off a decidedly creepy vibeóa palpable sense of decay and malevolence. But the fact that I already know where all the dangers are takes the edge off the creepiness, as does the fact that this seems to be a case where there is no outcome but success. I already know things are going to turn out fine, and so I donít let the place bother me too much.

      Now the person who is my mother is physically here with me, a couple rooms awayóalthough, either because the walls are in ruins or because I can see through these ones too, sheís still visible from where Iím looking around the living room. Nothing much seems to be happening at the moment. Iím just keeping an eye on the blue fog. There are some mirrors there in the room: I use them to check my form as I practice jumping from side to side, moving between stances I might need to use later.

      (7.9.18)
    6. The Big Picture

      by , 09-01-2018 at 02:35 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      In this dream, I seem to have been selected to contribute to some collaborative project that has to do with ďGame of ThronesĒ and a couple of prominent political figures, including Trump. I think there are 25 of us in all, but I donít actually meet with the othersóI just have an interview with someone, and thatís it. Itís in a large, modern building, and I recall being in an elevator at some point, deciding that Iíll go to join the others and see the complete work. It seems a little strange to me that I should be playing a part in thisóI havenít watched or read ďGame of Thrones,Ē and I donít seem to be personally involved in these matters the way everybody else is. But Iím curious enough to go anyway.

      I join the others in a room with a large screen on one wall. Itís divided up into smaller rectangles of various sizes and proportions on which video loops are being played. I can see my own contribution among them, in the upper central area, showing the collapse of a temple-like building with hundreds of statues in front of it, among other images.

      Then it starts playing, and my part comes first. In the narration, I recognize what I had said in the interview, now in a more polished form. Itís now clear that what I provided was the prologue, tracing out the historical background of the story told in all the subsequent parts, setting the stage for it. That makes a lot of sense, actuallyónow I can see how itís relevant, even though it doesnít directly concern the characters that the story is focused on.

      (30.8.18)
      Categories
      non-lucid
    7. From Map to Territory

      by , 08-09-2018 at 04:11 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      In the earliest part of the dream I can remember, I'm reading a news article online. Itís about an odd discovery that was recently madeówhat seemed to be a fossilized person on a bicycle.

      I pull up a map website so that I can have a better idea of where the places Iím reading about are. It starts off as a map of Europeómore or less. The only major difference I can remember was seeing a series of small countries along the (more or less) Baltic Coast.

      The place Iím interested in is further west of that, around Luxembourg, I'd say. I zoom in until itís more like looking at a satellite map, and I can see the spot the story is talking about: a place in the woods where the grass gives way to gray rock, and in the rock, the figure of the cyclist can be clearly seen in profile, looking rather cartoonish.

      I look up and find Iím not looking at a screen on a computer anymore: Iím actually there in the forest. And thereís only one way thatís possible: Iím dreaming.

      The gray rock isnít there anymore. Thereís just forest in every directionódeciduous forest, with foliage that isnít so thick it blocks out the sunlight. I pick a direction and start walking, not having any particular goal in mind.

      The forest is quiet and still: there donít seem to be any animals around. The only notable feature of this place is the mushrooms I see growing in small groups among the undergrowth every few meters. Theyíre red with white spotsóobviously fly-agaric. I recall a recent discussion on DreamViews about hallucinogens in lucid dreams: what would happen if I ate one? Iíve never been curious enough to try it beforeóI wasnít even curious enough to read the thread, for that matteróbut here they are, and here I am. Guess Iím going to find out.

      I get down close to a group of them, pull a piece off a small one and put it in my mouth. But then I see that the mushrooms arenít mushrooms anymore: theyíre red flowers now, poppies by the looks of it. Still in an experimental frame of mind, I pull off some petals and chew on them. Theyíre completely flavorless and slightly cool. It is an extraordinarily realistic experience of eating flower petals.

      Shortly afterwards, I wake up.

      (7.8.18)
    8. A King and a Cat

      by , 08-03-2018 at 02:44 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      I start out in an apartment that seems to be mine, but doesnít resemble anywhere Iíve ever lived. Hearing a commotion outside, I go out to investigate. I walk across a grassy lawn to where it overhangs a sidewalk. It seems coming from the direction of the train station, which is just down the street. I recall that today is the day the king is supposed to return from a trip abroad: there are probably many people there to greet him.

      Sure enough, I soon see him walking by, just like any other person might, alone except for three dogs. One of the dogs, a large and muscular one, is headed directly my way. Iím not threatened by it, though: I don't read any aggression in its behavior, only curiosity.

      Itís sniffing me over as he approaches to get it back under control. We exchange a few words. He knows who I amóI get the impression this country is on the small side, and he probably knows everyone hereóand he says that heís honored that Iím residing in his country (I am a foreigner here and not a citizen). He tells me he's happy to be the host of someone favored by the cat god. This is a chaotic, cat-like being that comes aroundólike any other catówhen it feels like it and not before. It appears to have taken a liking to me, and thereís now some kind of deeper bond between us. It also seems to be associated with the key of B major, whatever that means.

      The king is about to leave, but the dog breaks away again to continue to inspect me. He once again gets it under control and asks in a casual way what a sky bicycle actually looks like. This odd form of transportation has to do with the cat somehowóthe thing apparently has a whole mythology of its own. I reply that I donít know, as sky bicycles only take a definite form when several people are looking at one at the same time.

      (31.7.18)
      Categories
      non-lucid
    9. Interrupted Lesson; Beyond the Outskirts

      by , 06-21-2018 at 01:44 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in a study, sitting at a desk facing a wall. A man is sitting to my left. This seems to be some kind of music lesson: we have sheets of manuscript paper in front of us, and Iím doing some sort of exercise where I fill in bits of the melodies that arenít written. Iím having trouble figuring out how to notate the rhythm I have in mind, but after moving to something else for a little while, I come back and manage it easily. I write the notes in with a red pen, very neatly.

      The lessonís almost over when a young girl, 7 or 8, runs into the room and lies down on the desk in front of usóthe manís daughter. She seems to be in a silly mood. She speaks to him in German - we've been speaking English until now - and he answers. She moves across the room, and they have an exchange in which he asks her questions, but she just gives nonsense answers and giggles (and totally ignores me). I just watch and pet the cat, a gray tabby thatís also entered the room, not at all put out by the interruption. Before long, a woman who seems to be a nanny comes in, presumably for the girl.

      I wake up.

      In the next dream, Iím staying in a large hotel with my parents. As I walk through the lobby, towards the staircase, I see a number of men dressed in suits of armor decorated with intricate patterns and women in white ballerinaís outfits with similar patterns in silver. Some sort of wedding party, I figure.

      After a quick trip to the room, which is at the end of a hallway, my mother and I seem to be walking out, away from the city center and towards the outskirts. This is WilhelmshŲhe, apparentlyóalthough it would be hard to find a place that looks less like the actual place of that name. Thereís less and less to see as we walk along. Less traffic, too. A man drives a horse-drawn carriage past and gives us a peculiar look. Somehow, I have the feeling that weíre expected here, and heís a part of it.

      And, an unknown period of time after that, Iíve been transported to a different place, a large building full of people getting ready to something to begin. Iím a part of it, too, now. A man is explaining to me whatís going on in a mixture of French and German. That seems to be the norm here, and I slip into it too as I speak with him.

      I comment at one point that something he just said sounded more like how people talk in movies than in real lifeóor dreams, I add. Because I do know itís a dream by now, although Iím not sure just when the realization hit me. But Iím going along with it because it looks like some interesting and possibly important things are going on here.

      Unusually for a lucid dream, it was difficult to remember much of what happenedósome details stood out, but a lot of it just blurred together. The man Iíve been talking to seems to be in charge and has us carry out different tasks, and give answers to questions. I seem to be apart from the others somehow, involved, but playing a different role.

      (17.6.18)
      Categories
      lucid , non-lucid
    10. Shop of Shiny Things

      by , 06-13-2018 at 04:15 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      In this dream, I ampart of a group, possibly of students, although we seem to be doing whatever it is weíre doing out in the streets of a city rather than in a classroom. At some point, I go into a shop with a few others. Itís selling clothingóskirts mostly, long, summer-y ones that look handmade, in a variety of colors and patterns, but some belts and scarves and things as well.

      The things in the shop donít seem to be in any particular order: in one part of the room is a big pile of loosely-folded skirts. I think one skirt looks interesting and pull it out to get a closer look, but it now seems to be a sheepskin vest with pictures and words on it, not really like anything else in the shop. I put it back.

      I then look at a display of jewelry on one wall. It all appears to be carved out of some kind of iridescent mineral of many colorsódefinitely something natural, judging by the variations. Next to the jewelry are some plectra made from the same material. A young woman from the class tells me that there are more in another part of the room, so I go to look at those as well.

      I find one plectrum there thatís blue, in a kind of boomerang shape. It looks interesting, but Iím concerned that itís too blunt. Another is a brilliant red with little flecks of black and white on the edges and basically triangular, but with slightly concave edges going up to the point. Iíll buy that one, I decide.

      12.6.18
      Categories
      non-lucid
    11. Problem Solved

      by , 06-11-2018 at 02:28 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      This was a dream from early in the night, which may explain some of the peculiarities. Ióand I may or may not have been meómention some ongoing problem to my motherówho definitely wasnít my actual mother. Neither of us actually seem to be represented visually in the dream: I perceive her as a powerful and protective energy, and I am observing somewhere from outside of the ďIĒ characteróI guess whom I also recognize by Ďfeelí. The only clear imagery from this part I can recall is the settingóthe basement of my old house in M---.

      I guess I was just complaining about it, but she takes it as a call to action and immediately sets to work. She first does something to me to keep me from interfering in any wayólike an abstract version of shutting me up in a room. It had been a problem that I considered tough and protractedóI canít remember any more about it than thatóbut she takes care of it with astonishing ease. And then she lets me go.

      But I manage to get into some kind of trouble again not long after thatóin a forest, almost falling into a freezing-cold river I donít see because of the snow covering it. Fortunately, she comes along and is able to get me somewhere safer, but I canít convince her Iím not getting into dangerous situations in purpose, and so she does the shutting-in-room thing again.

      9.6.18
      Categories
      non-lucid
    12. Sinister Device

      by , 06-05-2018 at 09:42 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím walking down the metallic corridor of a spaceship, carrying a small backpack and some other item with me. I spot a door on the left-hand side and walk in. Itís a little room with a bed, a sink and various other useful things along the walls. I set my things down. It looks like nobodyís claimed this one yet. Iím glad because I like room #2ótheyíre all pretty similar, but I just like this one more for some reason.

      I look at the bedójust a molded bit of plastic, no sheets on it yet. Itís pretty uncomfortable. I could have brought some extra bedclothes, knowing in advance that it would be, but I figured Iíd just pick some up along the way.

      All of this is so familiar to me because I can remember all of it happening before, even the things that havenít happened yet. If dťjŗ vu is like seeing a firefly flickering in the darkness, this is like being in broad daylight. I remember all of it, although not everything seems to be set in stoneólittle things like my being the first one here and the outcome of one very big thing thatís still a long way in the future.

      Somewhere out in space, thereís an odd device wired into the workings of a satellite devoted to climate monitoring. The device had originally been with me, but some time back, in the midst of a chaotic situation, some group had managed to get their hands on itónot a hostile group, exactly, but not overly friendly either. They had managed to figure out that it was a powerful device and even how to get it to do some interesting things, but they really have no idea what it was capable of.

      This situation doesnít bother me too much. An unmanned climate monitoring satellite isnít a bad place for the thing for the time being. Theyíve taken great pains to keep it a secret, and nobody is likely to find it there. And when it leaves dormancy and begins to destroy the satelliteóit is a matter of when rather than ifóthereís only so much damage it can do.

      That wonít be for a while yet. It will also take a while for them to trace it back to the device and figure out just what theyíre dealing with. And thatís when theyíll come to me. I have some kind of connection with this thing, which is how I know all this, and Iím the only one who has a chance of destroying it. I wonít have to bother about getting it back. All I have to do is make sure Iím ready when the time comes.

      Someone else enters the roomóa young woman, tall with short, blonde hair and a punk-ish look. Iím one of four people who have just been brought here, possibly as some kind of training program, and sheís another of them. She tells me the people in charge here found something out about her past and are making her take some kind of testósomething they needed a blood sample for. She hasnít got the results back yet. I donít know anyone here that well yet, but I have the impression she just needs someone to talk to.

      We go out together, through a door in the ceiling. We arenít actually in space nowóweíre parked. Itís definitely not earth, though: we move through the air like swimming, as if gravity is very low here. Itís dark out, and thereís nobody else around. Not far from us is a park with a playground. We float over to it. I notice my companion is wearing a purple pair of flippers, which strikes me as a smart ideaóshe can probably move faster that way.

      I grab ahold of a colorful childrenís play structure and maneuver through a hole in it. Might as well get a feel for what itís like moving through the air like this. I think that this, in a way, is also preparation for what Iíll eventually have to do.

      The woman heads back to the spaceship at some point, but I stay out a bit longer.

      5.6.18
    13. Watching From the Window

      by , 06-04-2018 at 08:11 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      I’m sitting at a table by a window in what seems to be a coffee shop/bookshop, looking down at the streets below—a couple floors below, I’d say. The people in the room are seated at couches on both sides of the tables, and it seems to be pretty full right now. The street below is has broad sidewalks on either side of the road and mostly tall buildings with shop windows along the side of it I can see - a city center vibe. And while this is supposedly Prague—it seems I’ve come here for a week or so—it doesn’t resemble anywhere in particular.

      It’s early evening. The streetlights have come on and snow is falling, and I spend a while just watching people go by. I think about how I could watch the snow fall from where I’m staying as well. It would also be nice in its own way, but there wouldn’t be anywhere near as much going on.

      4.6.18

      Updated 06-05-2018 at 09:45 PM by 75857

      Categories
      non-lucid
    14. Academic Weirdness

      by , 06-01-2018 at 02:40 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      I am in a small classroom in a university, but itís not lecture Iím attending here: itís a theatrical performance.

      There are about a dozen of us in the audience, as well as three dogs, two of them large ones, which is almost enough to make the room crowded. Both the main actors are here already too, in the front of the room. It seems theyíre performing ďFaustĒ- or something Faust-ish, at any rate. Both the main characters are being played by women, the title role by HťlŤne Grimaud, although itís not clear whether itís actually the pianist or just a well-known actress who happens to have that name.

      Thereís also a woman in the back who seems to be involved in some official capacity. Sheís the one responsible for checking ticketsóat least theoretically. Iím hoping that remains theoretical since I donít actually have a ticket. The prevailing system here seems to work like train tickets, where the ticket is good for a certain range of dates. While I do have one on hand, itís good for three weeks in November, and itís still October now.

      She begins by giving a short speech, which she records using a small camera. Predictably, the smaller dog, which is hers, sticks its face directly in it at one point. Things come to a halt for a bit as the audience makes a fuss over all the dogs and encourages her to get them on film. But eventually, the performance itself gets underway.

      For a while, itís just the two leads talking, but very clever dialogue. At one point, the Mephistopheles(-ish) character begins asking for members of the audience to volunteer. And, as people begin to get more comfortable, they begin to participate more. Soonówhat with the intimate space and the lack of separation between us and the performersó itís as if weíre a part of the performance rather than just observing it.

      I look out the (partially frosted glass?) wall at a man walking byóhe probably thinks this is a rather odd lesson, given that itís probably not obvious at first glance that itís a performance. But actually, he seems to be part of the performance as well. He enters the room, placing some notes and a glass with some white wine in it on a lectern, and beings to talk about philosophy.

      One of the audience members comments on the wineglass. The newcomer enters into a hilarious dialogue with them, still in a philosophical vein, all in a complete deadpan. I recall him claiming that he wasnít the same person he was a couple of drinks ago. Another half-dozen people seem to have joined the audience at some point, which is more than enough to make the room crowded. At some point, I wake up.

      After writing everything down, I fall asleep again and find myself in a continuation of the dream. I seem to have watched the rest of the performance, as well as the lecture taking place in the room afterwardsóapparently a Marxist interpretation of diabetes, which Iíve stayed to listen to out of a combination of morbid curiosity and a lack of anywhere better to be. But I have a class I need to get to soon, and I want to get some coffee first, so I gather my stuff together and cut out early.

      Once outside, it occurs to me that I donít actually know where this class is going to be held. I find my notebook in my messenger bag and look through it, but it only looks like Iíve got last semesterís schedule written hereónot this oneís. But I do recall receiving an email from somebody mentioning the classís location, so I can check on thatóbut it will have to be on my laptop, since I canít access that particular account on my phone.

      My room isnít far from hereóitís in a large building just down the street. I enter and make my way up to my room. Itís a tiny room, and unlike anywhere Iíve actually lived, but it all seems familiar and somehow pleasant. I put what seems to be my cast-iron shrine teapot on a hotplate on the top of a small, precarious-looking shelf to one side of my desk to boil water for coffee and sit down to find the email.

      According to the email, the class is taking place at St. Johnís Observatoryóso not on campus, then, since I would have seen it if it were. I pull up a map website to find out where it is. To my own amusement, I initially mistype "Kassel"óthe place I have apparently decided I amóas "Kessel" (kettle, that is).

      Based on the pictures my search has turned up, the place Iím going to is a greenhouse as well as an observatory: itís a small building with mostly glass walls, through which greenery can be seen. Iím not sure where it is relative to me just yet, though, and itís now 17:00, when the class was supposed to begin. Maybe that wonít matter so much on the first day? But then it occurs to me: Iím in Germany. Akademisches Viertel. That means I still have time to get there.
    15. Select Your Symbolism

      by , 04-29-2018 at 07:40 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím walking through an unfamiliar urban area. Itís fairly busy traffic-wise, but there are some young men kicking a soccer ball around in the streets. Occasionally, someone has to run out into the street and bring it back before a car gets to it. This strikes me as a little dangerous.

      Eventually, I find myself walking down into a large lecture hall, mainly white with light-colored wooden seats on either side of a central aisle. Thereís a projection screen down in front, and everybody is watching a movie on it. The front area looks mostly full, but there are entire rows of empty seats closer to the back, so I sit down in a row on the left side.

      It seems I have the option to select how I want the movie renderedóitís a little like a menu popping up on a computer, but more abstract. There are three options. In the first option, I would only perceive those aspects of it that are capable of being represented in the available medium. In the second option, the basic narrative pattern of the story would be preserved, but with the unrepresentable parts of it translated into a form that the medium can handle. That's the option I choose. I canít remember what the third one was.

      As I watch, it quickly becomes apparent that the movie is something provisional rather than a finished creation. The screen shows static pictures representing the characters on a white background as their dialogue is spoken. I notice, however, that the acoustics in this room are incredible. Itís a high-ceilinged room, and the sound just fills it. I can feel a shift in my awareness, as it itís expanding to fill the room as well.

      29.4.18
      Categories
      non-lucid
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