non-lucid

In the past two weeks, the dreams have been intense, but I did not write any of them down.

In one, Boden didn't recognize me and didn't want anything to do with me. Boden, if I haven't mentioned him yet, has been with me from the beginning of my lucid dreams. I tried to get his attention. It was heartbreaking. Like I didn't exist to him. Like I was now so unrecognizable he couldn't fathom my being "good enough" to know his name. I felt crushed.

In another, I don't know who they were, but one was a young woman (feisty), the other a man around my age. I had to leave in a hurry and ended up walking around the city in the dark, in the rain, in a minidress and a flannel shirt the man lent me because it was cold outside. Every hotel I came to turned me away.

Sometimes I dream of just walking away from it all. Leave behind the stress I'm always under. I have nowhere to go and in the dreams it always seems to catch up to me (ain't that something?). Well, life recently has caught up to me. It's a constant struggle. The dreams I have are the only outlet I have available.

Lucid dreams I can go anywhere and drop any worry. I have friends who actually want to talk to me or spend time with me or just support me. Real life is so different. If I could choose a world to live in, it would be the dreams.

-Pix

This isn't a single dream.

When I was nine, I started dreaming of the same boy in every dream. He aged with me. We grew up together. I loved him, but not as a romantic love. I knew him by the way he felt only. Sometimes he would bring me somebody new to meet or talk to for a while. Sometimes he stayed away for long periods of time. I speculated for years on who he might be and what it meant that he aged with me so perfectly. From the time I could talk I would tell everybody that I had a younger brother, but, of course, nobody wanted to hear it. My friends thought I was nuts and my parents just got tired of my "game."

I don't remember exactly when, but he finally told me that he was my twin brother. He had died before I was born. It's called "vanishing twin syndrome" and even my mother was unaware that there had been a twin, or so she said. About a month ago, I finally told my mother about the dreams and his name: Michael. I remember messing it up earlier and saying Miphael. She told me then that when I was born, less than 3lbs, two weeks late (to the day), and barely alive (placenta had partially detached), the doctors and nurses were looking for the twin. The twin never came. He never would. Not to our parents.

He hasn't been around in my dreams for months now. It has been the longest stretch for years and it hurts. It aches. I will move on, but I think all he wanted was validation that, yes, he did exist, and yes, I did have a twin. I have wanted to seek him out deliberately, but... part of me recognizes that it is not right to always expect others to be there for us when we cannot be there for them. If he has found new life, he needs to live it. If he is resting, let him rest in peace. I am grateful for the time I have had in my dreams with my twin.

Last night's dream was not entirely lucid, but once I got there it was fantastic. It has been a long time since I recalled a dream in a journal, so there needs to be some practice there, and I was woken up by external things so that bothered me a bit. So things I need to work on are: lucid dreaming, dream recall, dream re-entering (yes, I can do that), and, of course, writing skills.

First, There was the warehouse that I used as a shortcut, like I owned the place. I can't remember what I was running from the first time, but as I entered the building I was given two choices. The men of the warehouse would let me pass if I modeled for them, or they would kick me out and hand me over to whomever I was running from. Actually, as I write this out, I was hiding from my husband. Hrm, that's strange. Yes, I'm married (almost 12 years), but hiding from him is one thing, modelling for strangers is another, and put them together it's just weird. This is the part where I became lucid though and managed to change a few things around. Modelling was fun and it felt good to be appreciated. In the "real world" I am overweight and not happy about it (hence, the closeup of my fact in the profile picture). In my dream, I was hot stuff.

The dream shifted when my sister came to get me for exams. Did I want to sit my college exams or skip them? I chose to sit them. Again, a difference in dream and awake worlds. I don't sit college exams in my current school; it is all online and exams aren't necessary. I got to choose the location as well, and chose Seton Hall. No, I have never been to Seton Hall, but the process of signing in and sitting an exam was exhilarating. I knew the instructor from previous dreams.

That's something worth mentioning. I dream of the same people a lot. That's another entry, I suppose.

At the end of the exam, we were all treated to a performance from the orchestra, led by a student composer about five years my junior. He had dark hair, an electric smile, and bright eyes. They instructor kept bringing up me during the after-party (type thing) and mentioning to the composer that I was lesbian. In a way, that's true, but after a few minutes he leaned over and whispered that he saw my wedding band "glistening in the light". "That's because I'm married, to a man." I replied. His eyebrows raised and I said the obvious "I'm bi." I felt truly uncomfortable at that point and walked away, back to the warehouse.

Because the warehouse had been previously dirty and "manly" I created an elaborate dressing room for myself to hide in so I could change into something less formal and leave. I had just finished packing up my belongings and clothing when somebody opened the door and scared me half out of my wits. But then, I saw behind him, at a distance, the composer, and I wondered what he could possibly want coming towards me. Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to find out, for I was woken up from first my alarm, then my husband's, then our cats. Half the dream is missing in my head because of those continued distractions.

The half that remains lingers, like they always do, like these people are real and tangible.

I have, in fact, met people I have dreamt about, and been places I couldn't have possibly seen prior to. Like when I traveled to Australia, I knew my way around a shopping center having never been there before. I knew what kind of temporary table was set up around the corner. What are the chances? I knew it all like I'd been there a thousand times, yet I hadn't been there even once. And that table, was temporary, just set up, even my friend didn't know it was there.

The same thing happened in Toronto. I knew my way around because I'd been there in my dreams. I knew my friend by the way he walked and the way he "felt."

I'll stop here and make another entry soon.