LukeSid

8.20
I brazenly walk into a power station - DS (well Ed's version of a power station...all large dark spaces - DS) A women at the entrance looks suspiciously at me but I brazenly carry it off and I'm gone like the grey old shadow that I am in my dreams.

I flit from area to area through a maze of pipes (which, if I had only become lucid, probably didn't even connect to each other) I dodge workers (DS)... even the 2 who are conducting some sort of obscure data-gathering exercise within inches of me.

I lay perfectly still in the gloom as one works literally alongside me, apparently unaware of my existence like you get in corny TV adventure progs...early Dr Who episodes were notoriously bad at that (the actors must have had tunnel-vision.) I enjoyed this dream.

So...I instruct my brain that any workplace or fellow-workers are dreams signs "because I'm old and I simply don't work anymore...it's ridiculous"...and how does my brain interpret that? It sends me into such places covertly I'm undercover so it's alright to be there.

It may just be my foxy old grey matter but I clearly have to choose my words carefully because, like Oscar Pistorius's defence council it latches onto any loophole in my instructions...anything to avoid triggering the magic words "its a dream" Of course it might just be that I'm currently as aware as a lump of granite.

I'm already cautious about the sheer volume of night-time instructions...keep it simple...now keep it unambiguous...boy do I need some little sweeteners. I was researching Ayahuasca (which is apparently an "MAO inhibitor" what wouldn't the Americans have given for that at the height of the Cold War?) Don't think I'll bother with that...the last things I need are inhibitions.

Avanti!