lucid

I usually dream every day; I don't always remember exactly what I dreamed, but it always happens. Today, I dreamed I was on a very busy avenue with someone who seemed like a family member or a close friend, but then that person disappeared, and I found myself a few blocks ahead, still heading towards my house, which is about 4 blocks away. At the corner, I bumped into a girl I personally don't like. After talking about some random stuff with her, I realized my round glasses were missing. At that moment, I asked myself if I was in a dream, but everything felt real. I could see, hear, even think—everything seemed normal. So, I turned around and found a guy across the street selling cheap stuff, like phone accessories, in a cart that looked like a tiny dollar store. But it was attached to a motorbike. My friend (who just spawned out of nowhere) and I walked over, and the guy made me try on some glasses, which were square-shaped, and I could see perfectly. That was surprising because without them, my vision is so blurry that everything looks like a Jackson Pollock painting.

When I took them off, I handed them back to the guy. I didn’t have money at the time to buy new glasses, and I guess money doesn’t really make sense in a dream anyway. So, when I tried to find the girl again, she was gone. I turned right, and there was a house with stairs leading up to it. Through a window, I could see rooms painted blue, pretty run-down, and there was an old man inside. For some reason, he had my glasses. My friend and I went in, and we started looking around. In one of the rooms, the old man was sleeping with the light on. He was old, that’s all I remember.

Then there was some kind of glitch in reality, and now we were standing and talking to the old man, who kindly offered to help us find my glasses. He could’ve easily been a pedophile, but we followed him anyway.

My friend was following him really closely while I was lagging behind, checking out each room, which got darker and emptier the further we went. The walls were still blue. Then, for some weird reason, they started jogging and turned left. I saw this pattern of blue lights on a wall; it kinda looked like some sort of artwork with white and light blue rectangles mixed with dark ones, getting more surreal as it went on. (And no, I don’t take LSD.)

When I turned the corner, the light started to dim, and I saw them enter a room through a wooden door that just pushed open. So, I started counting from the moment I pushed the first door. When I stepped in, I went completely blind. Everything was pitch black. I lost all track of my friend and the old man—I was screwed. I counted 1, 2, 3, and when I got to 4, my brain betrayed me and started counting fast—4, 5, 6, 7, 8. But I tried to focus and kept going straight. When I got to 8, a thought hit me: Why didn’t I think of this before? I should call him on my phone. Oh, wait, I don’t have a phone, and I’m blind. Nah, that didn’t happen. I realized I was in a dream and tried to wake up but couldn’t. I wanted to move to the next room, but the door wouldn’t budge. I just stayed calm and noticed I was awake, both in the real world and the dream world, but I couldn’t feel my body or my breathing. I couldn’t see anything, but I could still hear. Except I wasn’t hearing anyone or anything. I wanted to hear some music, someone talking, or even that damn dog that barks at midnight just to annoy people, but there was nothing. My mind was in my bed, and my mind was at door 8. So, when I pushed with all my strength on door 9, I kneed my left leg, and I woke up, but nothing felt real—not because I thought I was still dreaming, but because I don’t feel like any of this is real.