• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    Non-Lucid Dreams

    1. Another Melody Fragment (With Lyrics this Time)

      by , 08-16-2023 at 03:27 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Melody Fragment (with lyrics)

      I awoke around 4 am from a rather confusing dream in which I may have been singing this, although the conscious Ďmeí seemed distinct from the dream Ďmeí, and I have the impression that I woke myself up intentionally at this point since I always try to be on the lookout for dream music.

      This is what I can remember of the melody, with the approximate tempo:



      The accompanying lyrics were: ĎSam, you are lucky. Sam, you are empty,í with the first three words corresponding to the initial three notes of each phrase. As a note, itís fairly normal for me to listen to, play or write things in 7/8, but I canít say the same about Eb major.

      15.8.23
      Tags: music
      Categories
      non-lucid
      Attached Thumbnails Attached Thumbnails I heard Bush Is Pushing the Draft-dream-15.8.23-1.jpg  
    2. Musical Metamorphoses

      by , 07-04-2023 at 04:35 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      All the most interesting dreams from this week involved music in some way. These included:

      -Applying a temporary tattoo of the notation for the amen break to my face, apparently for some event I was going to attend.

      -Working on a piece of music. As the dream progresses, the different parts become associated with characters, and a story plays out among them. The characters all travel somewhere special, like the moon, a number of times. I think it ended with everything being absorbed back into the composition again. Unfortunately, I canít remember many of the details as I woke up to one of the cats getting ready to cough up a hairball and had to immediately turn on the lights and make sure she didnít do it on my bouzouki.

      -Programming a couple weather patterns on something that looked suspiciously like a groovebox. Iím doing this at somebodyís request, at the shop he owns. Thereís a sense of the machine making the process much simpler than it would be otherwise, just a matter of pressing a few buttons. When Iím done, I make a mental projection of the future to check that my proposed patterns wonít screw up the weather in other places, and since everything looks OK, I confirm them.

      At some later point in the dream, I gain lucidity flying over a place thatís a cross between a highway and a waterway, with cars going one way and ships going the other. I decide to go back to the scene from the earlier dream, and I speak with the man to find out if he has anything else I can do there. It strikes me as an interesting thing to do while focusing on maintaining lucidity. I woke up not long after, though, which wasnít surprising as it was actually getting rather late into the morning.

      27.6.23-3.7.23
      Tags: music, weather
      Categories
      lucid , non-lucid
    3. Touched by a Yeti, etc.

      by , 06-15-2023 at 04:03 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Touched by a Yeti

      I have traveled somewhere with a large group of people, possibly by ship. Iím a different person (male, early 20s, with a Spanish-sounding name). Weíve just arrived here. Itís unclear exactly what kind of setting this is, but itís clearly not contemporary, and maybe entirely fantastical. Everything is currently covered in snow.

      I am happy because I have a new sword, and it is awesome. Itís a long, slightly curved blade, and there are etchings of animals on it Ė wild boars, maybe others. I have it out, showing people, when a strange creature appears Ė I know it to be a yeti. Itís white and shaggy, but actually a little smaller than an average human Ė overall, a very vague visual impression. (Although maybe not vaguer than my visual impressions of dream characters in general. Or, really, people in general, as I am pretty much face-blind and have had to work out other ways of recognizing people.)

      Anyway. The creature is lightning-fast and moves in unpredictable ways, including short jumps between locations. In the brief time they have to react, people are trying to get away from it, but it just moves straight past them and appears right next to me. It touches my arm, which it does something to me that makes me lose consciousness.

      Iím woken up by someone what seems like only a short time later Ė same setting, only more people are around now, and the yeti is clearly not. I go with some people to have a conversation with someone who can explain whatís going on. The person (who seems a lot like NR) explains that the creature is the guardian of this place, and it didnít like the sword Ė or, rather, its symbolic charge, so to speak Ė what it represented, which was being an outsider here and coming in intending to fix problems as an outsider, without being a part of it, which is arrogance.

      This makes sense to me. I now feel as if I understand the creature Ė not just from the explanation of its behavior but because I can tell that I now have some kind of connection with it. I know that itís here all the time, even when itís not manifesting physically. At some point later, as Iím talking with some other people who havenít yet heard about the incident, I mention the yeti to them, and I turn around, expecting to see it there behind me, and it is Ė and from their reaction, I can tell that they can see it there too. I also know that eventually, when the time is right, Iíll take the sword out again, and use it this time, but in cooperation with it.

      28.5.23

      Cycles

      Iím in a room in a house at night, sitting at a keyboard. (It does seem to be me this time. Probably.) Iím playing with settings, designing sounds that Iíll be able to use for projects later on. While Iím doing this, I have a strong sense of my auntís presence, which seems connected with the keyboard in some way even though she isnít there in the dream.

      Later, Iím somewhere like the dining room table of my current house, also at night. My parents are there, and Iím showing them something on a laptop: a vst instrument that Iím thinking about getting. It is called The Curse. The sound has an evolving quality to it, and it is accompanied by simple images that change alongside it as it cycles through its various stages. It had six different settings, all represented by images of people shown in bright neon outline against a black background going through different transformations. The first was fairy tale-like Ė thatís all I can remember about it. Another image was of a woman holding a baby: it showed the woman growing old rapidly and then becoming young again as the baby continued to look the same. Some of the images I didnít see the cycles for were of a young man and woman holding wineglasses in a celebratory pose, and of a woman in a short dress wearing a helmet like the one Athena is portrayed in Ė one of the only lone figures Ė and a man and woman I surmised were in some sort of muse/artist relationship, since the woman was holding a quill pen.

      1.6.23

      Smell Epiphany

      I am a different person (female, Asian, maybe around eight years old) living in a house with my family. The house is somewhat similar to childhood home #5, at least in the size/location of the kitchen area. Something is bothering me Ė Iíve forgotten some of the points related to this Ė so I go outside to sit by the garden. Thereís a steep, rocky slope lined with trees that leads down to a small garden where vegetables are growing. I sit on the slope, shaded by trees, and stay there for a while.

      Later, Iím in a building with my father and older brother, walking down a hallway. Itís a busy area, and many of the walls are lined with shelves full of bottles and boxes. He seems to be some kind of medical professional, and he is giving us a lesson, something both my brother and I find boring. He tells us to take a certain amount of a certain kind of powder on a shelf, so we do, putting it containers we have with us. He asks us how we can tell whether itís good quality or not. I know the right answer, and so I give it: by its smell. He tells us to go back to where we got the powder and smell it. We do. My brother goes first, and when heís done, I lean down to smell it. The stuff looks, and also kind of smells, like curry powder. As I smell it, I realize for the first time just how many dimensions a smell can have. Itís like a whole world. The idea that people can extract meaningful information doing this was just abstract to me before, but now itís real.

      5.6.23

      Also a Couple Lucid Dreams

      I wonít describe them in detail, though, since I donít think walking/flying around and looking at things would make for very interesting reading. The first (10.6.23) had an interesting setting Ė I get lucid after the dreamís Ďplotí seems to come to an end, fly through a wall, and start exploring. I gain height and fly around an industrial park at night Ė brightly lit in different colors, with the reflected light from the overcast sky giving it a vivid atmosphere, while lightning flashes in the distance. I go in and out a number of times and make my wings appear at least twice Ė notably, just based on my shadow, they seem to be smaller than normal, which maybe makes sense as I can fly perfectly well without them, and so thereís no real need to make them look like theyíre actually serving some purpose.

      In the second lucid dream (13.6.23), after some dream events I canít recall very clearly, Iím leaving a school and happen to see by NR looking at childrenís artwork hanging in the hallway. Heís wearing a wide-brimmed hat, and so I canít see his face. I walk past, but then it occurs to me that I should really take the opportunity to talk with him. I turn around and see that heís begun to vanish, and I realize that Iím dreaming. I decide that Iíll go somewhere else, just leaving the location up to the dream.

      I keep walking towards the entrance, close my eyes, and let the dream fade around me. My sense of having a body, and therefore of having my eyes closed, vanishes completely, and once itís gone, imagery begins to arise again. In a flash, I see bare tree branches in a thick, white mist. Accompanying the visuals is a strong impression of early spring. Then everything comes into full focus again, and Iím standing in a bare garden underneath a bare-branched tree by a pond. I (wrongly) identify this as the backyard of childhood home #5 and am a little disappointed Ė just think of all the more interesting places I could have ended up. But maybe there will be some value in revisiting the place here in a dream Ė itís not exactly one I have good memories of.

      And so I walk up to the house, jumping through the garage doors but then opening the one to the inside normally for some reason Ė maybe I just expected it to be unlocked. The layout of the house does not resemble the one Iíve mistaken it for in any meaningful way other than having hardwood floors. I walk through the various rooms, ground floor first, then upper floor. Nobody is around Ė I only see a couple cats in one of the rooms. My alarm awakens me before I can explore the whole house.
      Categories
      lucid , non-lucid
    4. Who uses the door anyway?

      by , 12-17-2022 at 04:40 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      I am somewhere like a dorm room, which I seem to share with around three other people. The beds are really low, maybe just mattresses on the floor, and weíre sitting on them, listening to a woman in some kind of position of authority whoís speaking to us. She takes a feather comforter from somewhere and hands it to me to replace my current one. My bedding is all extremely tangled and twisted - Iíve slept badly. I tell her that it wouldnít be that difficult to untangle it, but she still wants to give me the new one, so I take it and set the old one at the front of the bed. She then leaves.

      My old friend Ona, who seems to be one of my roommates, is trying to tell me something now, but sheís wearing something over her mouth sort of like an underwater breathing apparatus, so I have trouble understanding her at first. Eventually, with the help of one of the others, I understand that sheís saying something about a concert she saw me play in yesterday Ė also something about how she had previously been familiar with only one of the composers whose pieces were played there.

      This next part may or may not be part of the same dream Ė there were definitely parts after that one that I forgot, anyway. But Iím in a restaurant now. Itís a large, bright space, lit mainly by daylight streaming through full-length glass windows, but a little crowded Ė all the tables seem to be filled, and there isnít much space to move between them. Saimi passes by the table where Iím sitting and makes some kind of signal to me with her hand. This somehow clues me into the fact that Iím dreaming.

      I get up and follow her out to the balcony to talk. As I pass through the glass window, I can feel some sensations from it, especially the dividing metal bars, which is unusual and a little surprising Ė possibly it has something to do with the overall level of realism seeming especially high this time. Saimi watches, pauses for a second, and then opens a glass door and walks out. I jokingly say that I havenít used a door in a dream for years now.

      We jump down from the balcony and walk around while we decide what to do. Itís now clear that the restaurant is located on a college campus Ė one thatís dream-familiar to me from at least one dream I know Iíve recorded. Saimi says that before meeting up with me, she was waiting for my Aunt O so that they could see something together. She seems to want me to guess, so I do. A play? No. A movie? Also no. Apparently, itís something like episodes from a TV series being screened somewhere on campus. She still wants to do this now, while lucid. I donít think this sounds like a very good idea Ė looking at a screen for any considerable length of time seems like a pretty good way of losing lucidity to me. It could be interesting to see if my aunt shows up, though, and to talk with her, so I agree to wait with her. Since they agreed to meet in the restaurant, we head back there, flying back up to the balcony and going back where we started.

      I figure I should probably do something to keep engaged with the dream. This doesnít strike me as a very interesting situation to work with initially. I wonder, though: what if I try to read these peopleís minds? I look around the room, getting a read of the atmosphere Ė just in a way one might in waking life. How should I do this? I focus on one woman sitting at a table near me, trying to access her mindstate. What happens is that the dream imagery itself seems to transform so that now Iím seeing her in something like a large version of a babyís high chair, chewing a mouthful of food with evident displeasure. So the form of the dream changed to reflect my intention, rather than my experiencing her thoughts as some kind of verbal overlay Ė fascinating.

      I wake up soon after, but quickly fall asleep again and find myself in the same setting, this time with my cat Ronnie. Iím trying to tie something around one of his paws, but soon I remember that Iím dreaming. I wake up again before I can do much of anything.

      -16.12.22
    5. Oneiric Storyboard

      by , 07-06-2022 at 03:52 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      I am dreaming a story out. In the story, a village was destroyed, and a small group of children were the only survivors. A woman who was actually a goddess with a special relationship with the village was going to take care of all of them. She was apparently Skuld. All the gods had been gradually losing their powers, her included, so she was (I thought) really more of a demigod.

      A man who had left the village some time back has independently decided to return to take care of the children as well. (I was playing with the idea of his actually having been exiled from it at some point.) He had not been a particularly responsible person up until then and had led a rather rough life but genuinely cared about doing this. He was a bit suspicious of the goddess-woman since the village wasnít large, and he didnít recognize her, and so he didnít see why she was involved at all. Both of them were portrayed as characters from a story I thought of sometime when I was a teenager but never did anything with. They played notably different roles in the dream.

      -23.6.22

      Other interesting dreams recently:

      -Cleaning under my bed in childhood home #4, I find an open box of graham crackers. It turns out to be full of cicadas, which makes me happy because I like cicadas and because I was thinking at first it was going to be wasps.

      -While visiting a friend, I go out looking for a coffee shop in a location thatís dream-familiar but accidentally end up in a public area overlooking congress. I discreetly leave at the earliest possible moment and find the coffee shop nearby.

      -In another dream-familiar city, I go to higher ground to avoid rising floodwater and end up near a tent city. Notable in that I could smell it as well as hear the people talking there.

      -Descending a staircase into an underground area, accompanied by full orchestration. Unfortunately, all I can remember about the music was that it was in 4/4 time, and timpani were playing on beats 1 and 3.
      Tags: children, story
      Categories
      non-lucid
    6. Best Chess Lesson Ever

      by , 05-25-2022 at 03:47 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iíve gone to a school building to hold a chess club meeting there. Itís dark, like an early winter morning before school hours, and itís drizzling out. The layout of the building is reminiscent of the second high school I attended. I realize Iíve left my equipment in the car, but I still have plenty of time to get it and set up before students start arriving.

      Iím still setting up when Coach A arrives. (He taught math there, as well as coaching track and cross country.) Heís apparently going to be here for the lesson today. The students start arriving as well, but I still havenít got my board up. Looking around the room, I notice that I also seem to have brought my bouzouki along, in its hard case, as well as a Jolly Roger on a short staff (which, in retrospect, was maybe the first sign that things were about to get a little weird).

      I hang my board in the front of the room, but some students say they could see it better in the back, so I move it there instead and begin the lesson. I start with ladder checkmates, asking whether anyone is already familiar with them. Some are. I continue, but Coach A comes in with an explanation of his own which seems to be a bit of a digression. Iím not really happy about his presence, but he does work here, so I just have to work with the situation.

      In what follows, I give a version of the lesson which is recognizable, though a bit twisted in places, explaining how the rooks work together to trap the opponentís king on one side of the board Ė I recall comparing the rooks to clumps of dough around the king when the checkmate has been accomplished. Iím aware that this seems to be taking an unusually long time, and most of the students who would really benefit from it arenít here today, and at this rate I donít know if Iíll have time for the rook and king checkmate, too.

      I then proceed to explain the checkmate again, in a different way, by launching into a long, elaborate story about a man who is walking along the street one day, minding his own business, when he finds himself closed in by an impassable wall. He tries to escape, but he is already trapped, and the walls keep getting closer and closer without there being anything he can do about it. The visual aspect of the dream is now the storyís events rather than the classroom. I canít remember many of the details now but you can probably get a good idea of what it was like by watching a video on ladder checkmates and then reading Kafkaís The Trial.

      -24.5.22
      Categories
      non-lucid
    7. Boat on a Stormy Sea; Cemetery Campsite

      by , 05-22-2022 at 09:11 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Boat on a Stormy Sea

      Iím at an event taking place in a large, white tent, with people sitting at long tables in rows. I canít remember the earlier part of the dream any longer, but at some point, a man on some sort of machine, kind of like a large tractor/open tank, bursts in and starts threatening people while riding up and down the aisles. He doesnít actually seem to be trying to hurt anyone Ė yet Ė but itís clearly a dangerous situation, so I head off to prepare properly before taking care of it.

      I go some distance away to a much smaller tent, where my own things are, and start by tying my hair back since that thing has exposed moving parts on it, and I want to be able to get close to it without having my neck snapped. While Iím getting ready, I plan, although I donít think this will be very complicated. I figure Iíll just jump on and start messing with levers. But Iíll want to take out his grapply thingies first so he canít just move them back.

      When Iím done, I go back a different way, past some fairly large buildings. The area is reminiscent of a university campus, and life seems to be going on normally here. A woman holding a number of small cards approaches me, wanting me to draw one. I do, knowing that sheís trying to help in some way. The cards are made of cardboard and are of varying sizes, as if theyíre from multiple decks. I draw one which turns out to have a picture showing a boat on a stormy sea.* Thereís accompanying text Ė Iím aware of having to focus more than usual in order to not instantly forget it (although, unfortunately, I did forget it between then and awakening). I take this as a positive sign. It also somehow suggests to me that it might be a good idea to see if I can get some of the other people in the tent to help out regarding the grapply things.

      * Note: this is the symbol for chords with dominant function in the app I use to practice improvising, which is something I was doing the night before this dream.

      13.5.22



      Cemetery Campsite

      I seem to be camping in a cemetery. Another tent is staked a few plots down Ė a mother and a young boy, who's three-ish, are staying there. I wonder whether I should tell them theyíre camped on one of the graves thatís supposed to be haunted.

      We eventually do meet up somehow, and I show them the way to a local bank at her request. She meets with a couple of her relatives there, including an older woman who reminds me of somebody I know, who is looking after the child (who I now know is called Eliot) while she does something there. Eliot suddenly runs out of the building, and the woman follows, chasing him. I think she may need some help though, and so I wait around the opposite corner of the building and catch Eliot as he rounds it. He immediately starts crying.

      Sometime after that Ė back at the campsite Ė the woman has given me a bone with some meat on it to cook over a small fire. However, as I hold it over the flame, I notice thereís hardly any meat there at all Ė just a couple little scraps.

      Upon awakening, I also remembered a piano ostinato playing Ė not as a background of the dream, but as if it had somehow been going through my mind at the same time, apart from it. I didnít check the pitches soon enough after the dream to be able to put it in a definite key, but this is what it sounded like:



      -15.5.22


      Lots of interesting dreams lately. I'm not going to copy them all here, but highlights include:

      -Preparing for a chess match against a guy who likes to send his bishop in for a sacrifice on the f-pawn early in the game. I find this annoying and intend to make sure, through my own choice of moves, that this is not going to be an appealing option for him.

      -Lots of hostels and hotels.

      -Attending a concert on a campus but leaving after my rowdy friends got kicked out since itís not really worth being there without them.

      -A lucid dream mostly consisting of talking to people and exploring.
      Attached Thumbnails Attached Thumbnails Famous Lucid Dreamers-dream-15.5.22.jpg  
    8. Place of Right

      by , 05-13-2022 at 03:29 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      I seem to be staying with a large group of people in a sort of vacation rental house. Itís late night, early morning, and having woken up, Iíve checked on the cats to make sure theyíre still here, where theyíre supposed to be. (I notice at some point that Iím not wearing pajamas, but an olive green cargo vest over a multicolor shirt, which strikes me as a little odd.) The cats are fine, but it looks like other people are up and about as well Ė the other young people there seem to be gathering together in an unused room, and thereís an atmosphere of anticipation, as if some spur-of-the-moment plan is being put together. I donít really feel like going in to see whatís going on, though Ė I walk past to the bathroom down the hall.

      After that, somebody actually comes along to invite me to join them, and thereís a jump to another location, this one outside, along a street of what seems vaguely like a small city. Weíre near an ice cream vendor and his cart, and somebody has apparently managed to get a really good deal on a large quantity of ice cream. The man scoops different kinds out and hands it over to the people who are also out here now. An older man explains to me whatís going on: everybody is planning to travel together to Prague to see the Pablo Neruda museum. (This places the location firmly in Dream-Prague, as no such thing exists there, as far as I know.)

      He has a picture of it, like a newspaper clipping in black and white showing the front of the building, which strikes me as familiar. There are four odd statues out front, roughly human-shaped. One seems to have a head the shape of a crescent moon. The man states that the museum is located in the Place of Right. This confuses me for just a second. Then I tell him that the name would probably be something more like ďLaw SquareĒ or ďLegal PlazaĒ translated into English. My memories of the place suggest that the association with the law comes from a former era and is not representative of the present-day location, that itís located near the Mala Strana area (possibly by association with Nerudova Street) or a bit south of that, and that thereís a Gothic tower in the square as well as the museum.

      All of us are in Croatia, and Iím not sure if I feel like traveling all the way to Prague, especially since I visited the museum relatively recently. But it would be an interesting experience in its own right, traveling there with all these people. And maybe they could use someone who knows their way around there. Somebody brings me a cup of ice cream, white with flecks of chocolate or cookies in it. I take it. I donít really like ice cream that much, especially not first thing in the morning, but it would probably just sit there and melt if I refused.

      -12.5.22
      Categories
      non-lucid
    9. Gotta Breathe Sometime

      by , 04-27-2022 at 10:40 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in an unfamiliar house with my mother, showing her some pieces of music Iíve written using a playback program on a computer. As the dream goes on, the physical setting apparently vanishes in favor of the scores scrolling before my eyes. Unfortunately, I can no longer remember any of the music except for the clarinet part in one. The clarinet is holding a single note, and as several measures go by without it stopping, I make a mental note to modify the part as soon as weíre done listening. The computer may be able to play it back as written, but a clarinettist does actually have to take a breath at some point.

      -27.4.22
      Tags: house, music
      Categories
      non-lucid
    10. The Problem with Open Mics

      by , 03-20-2022 at 10:49 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      The dream seems to be set within some kind of video game world, and as part of the game, I have to go out swimming in the sea and do something with the various fish swimming below the surface (I am no longer sure precisely what the point was supposed to be). One particularly large shape seems a little too interested in me, and itís only after repeatedly beating it off that it gets the message that Iím not dinner and comes to the surface.

      It is a shark, and it proceeds to tell me a story Ė one that I can already tell is unlikely to have a happy ending from a human point of view, although the shark itself is completely oblivious to these implications. I am annoyed with the game for making me come all the way out here and do this. I do not enjoy punching sharks. I do not especially like being buttonholed by them, either. But, I reflect, that is always the problem with open mics.

      -20.3.22
      Categories
      non-lucid
    11. Reflect; Poke

      by , 01-22-2022 at 04:53 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Reflect

      Part of a longer series of events involving travel from one place to another. The only part I remember well was towards the end, where Iím being chased by a young woman in a rather video game-ish setting. As I run, a handful of parallel memories arise, showing various outcomes to this event, which are all variations on her catching up. Looks like this is a mandatory fight. I also notice that something is different from the memories, something important: I know who she really is.

      I make sure she doesnít catch up until an open area up ahead, and then weíre both standing there, facing one another. She initially has brown skin and straight, dark, shoulder-length hair, but the image dissolves, and she changes to a shorter figure with grayish skin, rather like Zimmy from Gunnerkrigg Court.

      Thereís a short conversation here, which I can no longer remember, and then she attacks, throwing some sort of enormous summoning spell at me. I raise an arm and deflect it back at her with a gesture. What happens next is rather like a lengthy animation playing out, temporarily turning both of us into passive observers as it takes over the screen/dream and practically defeats my opponent all on its own. Moreover, at the end of it, the nature of the encounter seems to have changed, so that now I just have to complete three small, easy puzzles to win. My opponent actually contributes to solving one, in sort of a ďyeah, yeah, letís get this over withĒ way.

      Poke

      Another vaguely video game-ish one of which I can only remember the later part. In this one, Iím with a small group of people in a town, and there is a man there we have to fight, although it isnít clear why, and he doesnít actually seem to be an enemy. I canít remember his appearance (or, really, the specific visuals of the dream in general), but something about him was reminiscent of Zorro somehow.

      A woman in the group demonstrates to me how to attack via a menu. Thereís a list of attacks, most of which seem to be elementally based, but the woman indicates the one that he is apparently weak to, which is color-coded purple and labeled ďQuietĒ. Oddly, all the attacks just seem to be summoning various ensembles of musicians, who then play music. I select the most powerful option, which summons three of them. I then poke him in the back, which takes a small chunk out of his remaining HP. Heís just standing there and not responding in any way, so I poke him a few more times until he is defeated Ė or maybe just until Iíve got his attention, which seems as if it might be what this whole thing is actually about.
    12. There is no Bubble Wrap in Middle Earth

      by , 11-05-2021 at 11:12 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      In the earliest parts I can remember, Iím traveling on a ship with a friend when the water underneath starts to swirl. Soon, a whirlpool has formed, and weíre spinning around as the wall of water grows higher around us. It now seems to be just us in the water Ė the whole dream was a bit iffy on continuity Ė and I see a smaller spiral under the surface near me. I move away, but it follows. It strikes me that this thing is only after me, not my friend, so I pass them something which is supposed to be a useful tool of some kind and encourage them to leave.

      I am alone now. The ship (or something, anyway) seems to be back, and thereís nothing to do but wait, I figure. I pull out a bookóThe Hobbitóso I can read until it feels like manifesting.

      At some point, a dark, oppressive energic atmosphere begins to formónot something visible, but a feeling hanging over everythingóand it does show itself Ė in the form of Bilbo Baggins. Simultaneously with this, I now seem to be Frodo. ďBilboĒ starts going on an exaggerated diatribe about what an awful book ďThe HobbitĒ is. This goes on for quite a while, interspersed with my occasional sarcastic responses. The continuity continues to be rather sketchy, with ďBilboĒ occasionally disappearing and subsequently reappearing elsewhere, and once, apparently accidentally, walking into view undisguised before the previous one has finished talking, appearing as a figure cloaked in black, face hidden beneath a hood.

      But then, a little later, itís back to ďBilboĒ again. He now has his own copy of ďThe Hobbit,Ē enclosed in a bubble wrap packing envelope which heís holding by one corner as if itís something disgusting. Thereís a whole tub filled with bubble wrap beside him. I havenít been taking anything thatís happened the least bit seriously so faróIíve been treating it as if itís some kind of unavoidable everyday nuisance rather than an actual threatóbut somehow, in this whole improbable series of events, it is the bubble wrap that gets me thinking critically about whatís going on. ďBubble wrap. Why?Ē I say aloud. There is no bubble wrap in Middle Earth. I think it over just to be sure. No, itís quite impossible. Couldnít happen.

      I then proceed to do the only logical thing one can do under the circumstances: transform myself into a cat and leap into the bubble wrap-filled crate. But itís just then that the dream ends, and I awaken.

      4.11.21
      Categories
      lucid , non-lucid
    13. Ambiguous Spirals

      by , 11-05-2021 at 11:07 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in a library, doing research for a school assignment. While Iím still not sure what materials Iíll need for it, I figure it would be a good idea to get some likely books since I happen to be here anyway. The assignment seems to involve music, specifically the composer Borodin, so I return to a shelf on the floor directly above the ground one where I had been earlier in the dream. About all I can remember of that earlier part was listening to a song with a couple other people, including my aunt. It had a heartbreakingly beautiful ending, but when I asked my aunt for a translation from the Russian, the text turned out to be a rather banal folk song about two mice.

      Anyway, once I get there, I pull a book from the shelf and flip it open to an analysis Ė probably a violin part, in either D or E. A very simplified reduction shows the staff with the I note, the IV and V above it a little later on, and then the ii on the octave below. The text explains how the melody avoids these structurally important notes (IV and V) and instead goes in a series of dark, ambiguous spirals that land on the ii each time.

      27.10.21
      Tags: library, music
      Categories
      non-lucid
    14. Renewal

      by , 08-30-2021 at 02:18 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in a building that seems to be part of a university campus, heading for the top floor, which is where I have to go to retrieve my renewed passport and some other visa documents. But as I look through the doorway, into the large, open room where I have to go, I see two knights on horseback riding around Ė a pair of enemies that seem to have spawned here. Theyíre wearing head-to-foot armor of a bronzey-gold color and carrying lances, and the horses are white.

      Iím reluctant to go in, as I have just defeated another pair of these guys Ė although those were a black and ghostly variety, and these ones will be even tougher and therefore even more of a nuisance. I just canít be bothered right now. And since Iím not in a particular hurry, I figure Iíll just come back for the papers later. I head back down, taking the stairs rather than the elevator, as it is inevitable that if I get on, they will too.

      As I descend, though, I hear people talking Ė but itís rather vague, more like a combination of thinking and of overhearing conversations. I hear people talking about how many people have been faking their passports, and when you open them up, theyíre empty on the inside. But mine is real Ė and actually, thatís something I shouldnít be taking for granted.

      Somehow, what I am hearing has changed my mind: I head back up again and walk into the room. Thereís only one of the knights now, and heís holding my papers. I walk up to him and grab them. Contrary to expectations, a fight does not commence, and so I take the papers to another part of the room to look through them. My renewed passport is there, and it already has an approved visa in it. This is something I applied for previously, which required going through quite a bit of red tape Ė entrance to a country that seems to be located somewhere in Central Asia.

      23.8.21
      Categories
      non-lucid
    15. The Returning Haddock

      by , 08-04-2021 at 11:27 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in a classroom Ė itís unclear at what level Ė seated at a desk in a group of at least four desks pushed together, two rows facing each other. Iím writing a poem. It isnít for the class, though: class doesnít seem to be in session at the moment, and there isnít a teacher around.

      Iíve just finished the poem Ė the first draft, at least. All I can remember about its contents now is that it was entitled something like ďThe ReturnĒ or ďThe Returning,Ē and the first line was ďSomething has happened.Ē The guy sitting diagonal from me, who seems to be somebody I know, wants to see it. I tell him that first I have to make sure itís legible for people other than me, and after a minute of looking it over and making some lines clearer and darker, I hand it to him. (The other people in the group of desks seem to be paying attention, but in a passive way.)

      He reads it and says something to me that implies that he sees the ďsomethingĒ that happened as some negative event that hangs over the rest of the poem. I tell him that that reading works Ė but the poem is (sort of) about the Olympics. Itís not actually in the text, but itís not too deeply buried. Heís having trouble seeing it, so I tell him to imagine that Iíve titled it something like ďThe Olympic GamesĒ instead.

      He reads, and then, seemingly struck by some idea, he takes out a pen (I wrote with a pencil) and writes something on the paper. He thinks I ought to call it ďDas EntspannenĒ instead. He (correctly and unnecessarily) translates this as ďThe RelaxingĒ but then also claims (and this bit is pure dream logic) that itís also a subtle reference to haddock, whose migration routes recall the original titleís idea of returning.

      Our attention is then drawn to other events taking place in the room, and I wake up shortly afterwards.

      7.28.21
      Categories
      non-lucid
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