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Before this, there is a fragment about my uncle and his dog, and also my comic book shop.

The dream begins with me at my house when suddenly my Dungeons and Dragons Playgroup is there and like completely filling up my house. Random people are showing up and my house is suddenly much larger and more luxurious looking. Someone mentions how if we stay here we'll miss the session.

I then wake up and go back to sleep, but this time I'm dreaming I'm with Batman and he's on his Yacht throwing a huge party. But, there are these alien creatures with massive jaws that are disguising themselves as people around. A butler near me suddenly starts chasing after me and I know he's one of them. I run past a poker game and am running all around this massive yacht while everyone around is yelling and panicking while these aliens are attacking. I see Batman get attacked by one, but I figure that he will be okay. I jump out the side and manage to get on a Jetski, I turn back and I see that the Yacht has many levels to it and is in some shallow swampy area. As I'm riding the jetski, I start doing jump and thinking about how any number of the aliens could escape from the yacht and disguise themselves as people, causing a massive alien invasion.

2/3/16:
Dream 1: A couple of people and I were watching the new star wars movie.

Dream 2: There was a documentary sort of thing about these 5 people who combined to do the highest vertical leap. They had a ball which they passed along from one member to another until the last guy, with all this momentum, took a step up a cliff face and sprung up a few metres. This last guy was really tall, 7 feet at least, and sprung up crazily high, it was amazing to see.

Dream 3: I was travelling through an underground lake sort of thing, with a few other people I think. I can't remember the details too well, but we got sent the wrong way and ended up trapped by some evil force, however we managed to escape. I then guided us to an opening where there was sky light and this beautiful valley opened up. There were half a dozen or so other people there who had appeared to be waiting for me. A meeting started, and apparently this was a group of worldbuilders which I had been a part of years ago but which had fell through. They had reunited here in this valley which we had started creating years ago to finish it off. I 'remembered' all this and starting helping out with carving out the river and shaping the side of the mountain.

Dream 4: I had to take my little brother to school, and then a sort of FA where I was awake talking to my twin brother when our mum cam in and made him take my other brother to school since I had done it last time.

earlier:
+ (f) I'm looking at a thing that can pass through other objects, I'm wondering about the kind of materials

(probably others, forgotten)

later:
+ PTL1 (very vivid and present)
Outside in daylight collecting all the mail that's accumulated while we've been gone (from prior adult home), there's quite a bit it takes several handfuls to get it all. I enter our home and there are other people there. The place is wildly decorated and they look strange. Then I remember that we've rented to place out to them and they must still be here. There are a couple of girls in the dining area and they're dressed weirdly and they're doing something like giving a haircut or something.

I go walking through the house. I notice right away that they've tiled the hallway with large square plexiglass plates, I guess to protect the hardwood floors.

I go into (S1's room?) at the end of the hall and I'm inspecting the floor. There are a bunch of black marks on it, I'm kind of pissed about that. I get down with my face to floor level [DREAM SIGN] and I look carefully, I see an area that seems to be charred as if by fire. I look at the area under the bed and there are a lot of black scratch marks there, as if someone has been really active in that bed jumping around making these marks. Then I see more clear plexiglass placed under the bed, in an attempt to stop the marks, but it's obviously not working.

I look at the charred place again and imagine there was a fire. I look at the spot where there is a char and a hole, and I feel a blast of cold are coming up through the hole.

There's a renter there, and he compliments me on how well we sealed the floor so that drafts don't come up.

Looking at the walls of the (same/different?) room and they've been demolished. The wallboard has been ripped off and there are tons of pipes and ropes and just junk filling the wall. I think this is going to be a monumental effort to clean up and replace. I wonder if I can do it myself. The renter comments, "nah, it can easily be fixed up for $30,000".

I walk back up the hallway and there is a short guy there wearing an odd contraption and he has a big quarrel full of (rock salt? sugar crystals?). He's playing capture the flag, and he's wearing a thing that holds the flag on his back (?) and he has a gun that shoots that granulated salt/sugar if an enemy removes the flag, I think that stuff would sting if it hit you.

+ Boy and other odd smaller kids
Outside on a street, there is a dark-skinned boy there, I have some interaction with him, and he goes into his house. I follow. There are no parents there. (Some more stuff, don't remember). Then I hear crying from another room. I go in and there are two smaller children there. All these kids have been abandoned? They're crying really loudly now. I look at one and pick it up and I'm trying to determine its gender and it shrinks to a doll sized wrinkled sick looking thing in my hands. I look at the other kid and it's a boy who seems normal sized.

(waking, BTS?)

+ PTL 2
I'm back in PTL, this time with my sons (younger age) in the living room. We're looking out the large window onto the front lawn, there is a bunch of random stuff piled there. Son S1 mentions the hose is blocked. I go outside and I'm standing at the top of the lawn, looking at the grass. There is a large section where the grass has died and is just bare dirt. Also the landscaped path to the driveway is messed up and needs to be redone.

I go to the street and there is a tall column thing where I take the hose. I un-crinkle it and turn it on. I adjust the nozzle and get a strong stream of water. I walk around the column to face the front lawn, now standing in the street, and start spraying the random things on the lawn with water to wash them. One is some photo-memorial with a random picture in it? I'm a bit concerned about getting water in the house. I go back in and tell S1 that the hose works fine it just needed to be stretched out and unkinked.

waking, BTS

+ In the kitchen of a fast food restaurant, with a lot of immigrant workers. I try to get out of their way while they're working but there's a lot of them and a lot of clutter so I have to just stand there while they work. They're making a couple of burgers. One of the ingredients is zucchini. Aha I think, interesting secret ingredient! But it turns out they're just making deep-friend zucchini along with the burgers. The zucchini is sliced and put on a platter with a big thing of (tomato sauce?). The main chef guy carries a big tureen of sauce by me. They're making 2 burgers. They're putting sauce on them, and a lot of it so that it runs down the sides.

The Tutorial

I'm playing a game again. It works like this. I am the leader of Canada but my title is "Warden." It's a resource management game where Canada is one big ski resort and the challenge is to make a profit. The resort is divided into provinces, each with a governor.

My actions take place in a realistic three-dimensional world, but I am very much aware that it is a game. This is a common theme in my dreams. I guess the most significant aspect of games is that they have a designer. And much like the author of a story, it is the designer who decides, beforehand, what the outcome of the game will be (cf. The Stanley Parable). The players of the game do not determine the outcome, just like the characters in a story do not choose their fate. That's the crucial irony. The players' choices have been carefully framed and scripted to appear like meaningful actions but there's no actual freedom of choice. They are rats on a wheel, or in a cage, or in a maze, or whichever idiom you prefer. The outcome is predetermined.

Back to Canada. The first scenario of this game is a tutorial wherein I learn how things work. We attract skiers who pay fees to use the slopes and also spend money on food, drinks, and après-ski entertainment. As the Warden, I tour the provinces to supervise everything. I wear a big blue watch. When I return to my office, I insert the watch into a console and it turns green. This activates a control screen from which I can administer the resort and view its finances. The most expensive thing (for the business, not the customers) is food. Food is cooked in a centralized location and then distributed to a network of nodes and finally the customers, but each node adds cost and waste. The nodes are connected by carrier pigeons who fly from one to the next, while carrying a plate of food. Other resources work similarly along this network of nodes.

The tutorial ends. It was easy, of course. Now the second scenario begins and things have changed. Several of the provinces have gained independence, so the Canada I am left with has smaller revenues and barely makes a profit. Thinking this is a game, I see that I just need to optimize the operations to earn a larger profit. With enough earnings, I will be able to buy back the other provinces and return to status quo ante. Okay, fine. It's a bit too simple though for my taste.

The Twist

But the game introduces a twist. I receive a threatening phone call from someone we call "the attacker." He claims to have planted an explosive in one of the provinces and wants a ransom of $500 before midnight on the last day of the month. Okay. Again, seeing this all as a game, I'm not alarmed by the threat. It's just a twist that the designer inserted to make the game more interesting. So, in my jaded logic, instead of looking at my choices, I consider the possible scripted outcomes and try to work backward from there.

The most obvious outcome is "game over" and we always want to avoid that, because we are well-trained mice. The bait outcome is to earn at least $500 and pay off the ransom, but we don't really like that either. While it "wins" the scenario, there's no cosmic justice if the attacker succeeds in his ransom plot. Again, I'm looking at it from the point of view of the design. The designer intentionally framed a win condition with undesirable ethical consequences in order to provoke the player to think of a less obvious solution. The player thinks he's "breaking" the game by finding a more clever solution, but without cheating. But the designer knows that players like this idea of "breaking" the game, so he specifically frames the game to allow it. The joke is on you.

And thus, the meta-game begins. I can't lose. Winning the easy way is no fun. While I'm tempted to break the game, I know I can't because the designer has already scripted that. So, I just engage with the creativity of the designer and explore the other possible outcomes.

I could find the attacker and arrest or kill him. Or I could find the explosive and disarm it. Those are viable ideas, but a bit facile. If there was one twist, there will likely be another, so the solution can't be so straightforward. Maybe the attacker has a dead-man's detonator. Or a second backup explosive. With physical danger, the stakes are high. And besides, the core of the game (the ski resort) is about making money, so it seems more likely that the outcome will involve money instead of action.

I think, maybe paying the ransom could be a clever outcome if there's some irony to it. Maybe I could just borrow the money. Or counterfeit it. Or ransom someone else for the money. Rob Peter to pay Paul. Ha, that's kinda clever. Still though, that's the cynical outcome. I'm still hoping to win the game, and out-think the designer, and have my cosmic justice. Besides, there's probably another twist coming. Maybe the attacker will learn of my plot and double the ransom. Or ask for something else besides money, like a vehicle to escape in. Or a bride. Ha, that would be amusing too.

I consider some more "breaking" outcomes. Like, what if I ignore the threat and just let the explosion happen? If the cost to repair the damage is less than the price of the ransom, then doing nothing is the economically "rational" outcome. It's just a resource management game, after all. No one really gets hurt. That's really cynical, but there's something appealing about it. Not cosmic justice, but cosmic irony. Going down the economics path, there's a chance the attacker is bluffing or a hoax. If you can compute the probability of those, you can arrive a more accurate fair value of the ransom, which will be less than $500. So I could build a computer to do that complex logic and let the computer decide if the price is worth paying (cf. War Games; Skynet from Terminator). The outcome may be disaster if it's not a bluff, but there's a self-righteous pleasure in proving that your logic was nonetheless "correct." But no, the designer knows me and he knows I like that cynical game theory stuff. So, that's got be a trap ending.

By now, I've arrived at the conclusion that I probably can't guess the outcome. I can win the game, but the designer has defeated me in the meta-game. Maybe I can redefine winning so that my win will trump his win. What if I win the game multiple times over with a combination of outcomes? Arrest the attacker AND disarm the explosive AND don't pay the ransom even though I still earned enough money to pay it twice over AND prove that my solution was economically "rational" AND restore status quo ante AND have my cosmic justice AND my cosmic irony AND get the girl AND have my cake AND eat it too AND the last laugh AND the kitchen sink. And all without cheating.

The Grind

That was the fun part of the game. Now it is time to let it play out. I analyze the finances of the ski resort and quickly determine that there's no way I can earn $500 with just cashflow. Even if I optimize expenses down to zero, pure revenue wouldn't even be enough. I have to find another way to earn cash. I give up on the "pay the ransom twice over" goal because it's just not viable within the rules of the game. And if I break the rules, then the designer has successfully baited me into cheating and he wins the meta-game. So I do something that is allowed by the game, which is to sell provinces. Looking at my green control panel, they value in range from $100 to $250, so I would have to sell two just to get close and three to be sure. I decide to sell just one and then earn the difference with cashflow.

Next, I set about optimizing the operations for cashflow. This mainly involves re-organizing the food and resource nodes to have less waste and redundancy. I also fire employees and slash salaries to increase profits. I become particularly aware that the most profitable part of the business is not skiing but all the après-ski activities. That hardens my cynicism a bit more, but doesn't stop me from exploiting it.

The Climax

The end of the month and the deadline for the ransom is approaching. I only tell one other character about the ransom. He is one of my provincial governors and I call him "the lieutenant." I enter my office with the lieutenant as midnight nears. Looking at the finances again, I calculate that I will reach $500 very soon but there's an element of randomness so it might happen just before or just after midnight. I know the attacker will call to demand his ransom at the deadline. The fact that we almost-but-dont-quite have the money and we seem willing to pay will get the attacker to negotiate or maybe lure him into a trap. I don't know what the outcome will be, but I played by the rules to get the $500 and now I think I can get the attacker or his explosive for a dramatic finish.

The attacker calls and both I and the lieutenant answer. The attacker taunts me: "Your time is almost up Warden. Where's my money?"

I explain that we don't have it yet but will soon. We just need a little more time.

"C'mon Warden, I've see you with that flashing green watch. You've got the money."

Wait, what? He knows about the watch turning green while I'm in the office? No one but me and the lieutenant should know that! He must be able to see into the office. He might know my whole plan and call my bluff. I get the lieutenant to keep him talking on the line while I duck out of sight. I look under the desk, nothing. I crawl along the ground, searching for hiding spots. I still hear the phone conversation on speaker phone. But now, I hear the attacker's actual voice, slightly out of sync with the speaker. He's in the room!

I pull out my pistol and follow his voice to a nearby bed. I look under and I see him. He has eerie glowing green eyes. He points a gun at me but keeps talking to the lieutenant. In his other hand, he shows me the detonator, a dead-man's switch. I knew it. I can't just kill him. We have to negotiate or get him out into the open.

Now, he gestures with the gun in the direction of the door, like he wants me to cooperate. Is he trying to include me in his plot? I hadn't considered that outcome, joining the enemy for a share of the ransom. Clever, but no cosmic justice. Or maybe he's just afraid and doesn't know what to say. Maybe he's a coward, in way in over his head, looking for a way out. That could work. I decide to follow in the direction of his gesture, which leads me out of the room. Maybe if he sees me willing to cooperate, he'll just give himself up. I'll save the day and then take pity and clemency on him. I hadn't considered that outcome either, by hey now, that's a ton of cosmic justice.

I walk out the door. As I do, the attacker springs up and grabs the lieutenant. He has a hostage now! Good twist, but well in line with some kind of action outcome. The attacker walks out of the office, brandishing his hostage, his gun, and his detonator. I keep my pistol aimed at him, but I can only stare as he backs down a hallway.

At least I have him in the open. I have my watch and use it to call for backup. The other provincial governors rush in, pistols drawn. There's about 10 of them, all dressed in black suits. We now have a standoff. The governors are yelling at the attacker and he yells back. Two of them start to sneak around the attacker. One yells, "Get down Warden!" I dive out of view, so I don't see what happens but I hear a struggle. No gunshots or explosions.

I crawl back into view and see the lieutenant has wrestled away from the attacker and he took the detonator too. That means the attacker is an open target. I see him and in a flash he returns my gaze with those glowing green eyes. It creeps me out, recalling when I first saw him hidden under the bed in the office. Without thinking, I fire one shot at his chest, but it actually hits him in the head, instantly fatal. As his body slumps forward, I now see the rest of him. He was on his knees with his hands up. His gun was on the ground. He had been subdued and was surrendering but I shot him. Horrified, I look as two more bodies behind the attacker fall over too. They are wearing black suits. My shot went through the attacker and hit two of the provincial governors, also fatally.

I look at the lieutenant and the other remaining governors. They don't speak or emote. Just a tense stare for a beat as everyone tries to comprehend what just happened. Then they start to move. Collecting the bodies and beginning the investigation.

The End?

After firing my pistol, it separated into three parts and scattered across the room. I collect the three parts and start to reassemble it. But this is just something to keep my hands busy while I cope with the emotions I am feeling.

I am beset by guilt and uncertainty. I'm not sure if I won the game or not. Maybe this was a technicality. Regardless, now I'm starting to think all that game stuff was all in my head. This wasn't a game. It was a story. And stories have an element that you usually don't find in games: a tragic ending.

No explosion. The attacker dead. I guess that's one brand of justice, thought not the cosmic kind. Two loyal public servants dead. They'll be treated as heroes, but that's little solace for the dead. I saved the $500, but that seems trivial now. The lieutenant seemed the real hero. I don't know what happens to my character. I'm left with the knowledge that the only living people who witnessed what happened are me and the governors. They could defend my actions. Even lie and blame the attacker for taking the shot that killed the other two. Or they could tell the truth and say I shot a man who had surrendered. Only the lieutenant knows about the ransom and the $500. Will he be loyal to me? Maybe we could use the money to bribe any of the witnesses who don't cooperate. To protect myself, I might continue on lying and scheming, but I'll always be stuck with the guilt.

And how did the attacker know about the office and the watch? Only the lieutenant knew that. Maybe its really him behind all this. Et tu, lieutenant? I didn't actually see the struggle when he get himself free. Could it have been staged? To my other complex emotions, I must now add betrayal and paranoia.

I ponder all this as I exit that scene and walk outside. It's a striking mountain landscape. The sun is just rising over the ridge. In a movie, that means the story is just beginning. Another movie trope enters: I hear a voiceover from a local news broadcast, but it's not about the conflict. I found it to be a fittingly ironic tag on the end.

"With the ski season in Canada coming to an end, the snow will soon recede and leave the ski slopes covered in grass. But with some mowing the slopes will be groomed for summer use as..."

I was having a little argument with my brother Simon about something dumb and we were about to leave for something or other so I walked out the door and started running down a long narrow street toward where we were going. The street had a 1950's suburban feel to it and there were trees all along. I started running and noticed that I couldn't really run very well and blamed my shorts, I looked down and it was my tightest pair from many years ago. I kept trying to run, I had a pretty good head start on him. As I was approaching the destination I thought "this is how I can't run in dreams" and shot my hand up to my face and squeezed my nose to see if I could breath through it still. I could! but I didn't believe it and he was catching up super fast now so I doubled my efforts and started blocking him football style just outside the gate. Dad was on the other side and he was about to let the door open, I slipped through and then conversation was babbled for a few seconds and then I woke up and a few seconds into laying on the bed I realized I had in fact been dreaming... twice I have done that in a week, the first time I tried pushing my fingers through my hand to no avail.

I remember I was a king (or I think a prince) of a kingdom on a far off planet. I was also semi-aware that I was a character in a story, and I was playing my part for the purposes of making a good film. I remember the dream started with my dad going into the hospital. (The hospital was a large underground multi-level room in our very castle) I remember there was a reception area was in the bottom then around that there were three or four levels of doors with rooms where all the hospital rooms are.

I think he was on the top floor, last room. I was with my 'dad' during a routine checkup. The room was dark when someone threw a smoke bomb into the room. I ran outside coughing and heard a gunshot, then heard glass breaking, and saw someone big in a hoodie and baggy pants run off. I went back in. All of the doctors were knocked out. My dad was dead with a gunshot wound through his chest and his middle finger on his right hand had been cut off.

...

I forgot what happened, but the next thing I knew, somebody had turned the leader of the guards on me because I had been framed for the murder. He shot many arrows at me missed. I was still semi lucid to the point where I was basically a ninja, doing flips and running on walls to avoid his attacks.

I remember the guard leader was alone. I remember he had some kind of Nordic name. (Ygradssdil or something?) He was this huge stocky guy with a long black beard and he rode around rather comically on
this tiny alien boar creature that was about 1/4 his size. I remember he chased me up the side of the castle shooting arrows at me. I remember then the 'doctor guards' came after me. These tall skinny men in surgery attire with giant scruples. I remember two of them tried to blockade the door on the roof but I did the splits and kicked both of them, and took one of the giant scalpels.

I eventually managed to shake my pursuers by going into the hospital room. I remember I was hiding on the ceiling. Then in a rush, I jumped down, ran across the huge open room and climbed up the levels to the room where my dad was. I kicked down the door and saw that his body was still in there, not decomposed. But it looked like the room had been left empty for years.

I remember I heard guards behind me, and I was upset because I didn't find any answers to who killed my father. But then someone told them to turn around. It was this guy who looked and sounded like Nick Valentine from Fallout 4. He said that he was here to help me investigate who killed my father. He told me that he was framed too, somebody planted the severed finger on him.

He then took me outside, and took the golden ring that was on my father's finger out of his pocket. He told me that he had analyzed it and discovered that it was not real gold, but rather some other mineral that could only be found on. (He looked down through the alignment of moons orbiting a large saturn-like planet in the night sky.) That one. (Pointed to one of them). The theives of the fifth moon. They seek out this substitute gold stuff wherever it can be found and try to take it back to the planet that they live on where it is mined.

...

I remember there was one more scene that was supposed to be an emotional moment for my character where I gave up. I was kneeling on a frozen lake and pretending to be very upset about the death of my father and having given up, because that was what was in the script. (In fact, at this point I think I had figured out the full mystery and was only playing it up for the sake of drama.) I also remember seeing the hooded character from before walking away from me and chuckling.

-+-

I vaugely remember a bit of meeting my grandmother (the one who is no longer with us) Some other younger children were there too and they were pretty disrespectful to her in a way that I cannot recall, but she seemed happy to see me.

-+-

I was at the Wal Mart in the next town over. I only recognized the place because me and S like to walk the trail there to get lunch, then walk back.

I was looking on an Ipad. I remember somebody online had hosted an art contest and the winning entry was a picture of my DC self. Only it wasn't normal. The drawing of him was taller, more masculine and (this was posted on Deviantart) of course he was shirtless and buff with an 11-pack abs and what not. I remember thinking to myself that it's not the worst thing ever but why is that the winning entry? My cousin saw it and he started laughing like a seal.

I thought he was laughing at me so I tried to google something else. I remember the results of this purple cartoon character came up. I scrolled down and there was a bunch more copies of that same picture of me. Apparently after they found out that that person won the image spread all over the internet and became a meme.

525 Posts and 625 DJ entries. Me OCDista.

It was a dark night. Zombie outbreak took the whole world. I hidden in one of small, abandoned buildings. It was on a rocky wasteland. I fought zombies shambling around using a knife. I was hiding with my father in that building, but the was sick and I had to find some medicine. During day it was peaceful, but I didn't managed to get back during day. I found a ruined apothecary and met some dude. He told me that vampires took it by force and killed an oneironaut. I went to house of pharmacist, but it was emptied oh medicine. I went back house, fighting undead. I called my father to get inside as it was dangerous. He said "I have to draw outline of microwave first!" I saw a zombie chicken and killed it.

1) On a wooden ledge high up, feels like it's the outside of someone's house. The wind starts up and I'm not normally too afraid of heights but I became absolutely petrified and couldn't move.

2) I found an old friend sitting on a bench. Somehow I managed to get him to tell me why he looked uncomfortable, he had sciatica. I blirted it out to another friend and he looked really angry with me.

3) With my daughter in a room. The door opened and a dentist called me through, we walked into her room. She bent down next to me and I made a funy joke about her putting her hand in my pocket.

4) A flying cat - it landed on the ground and found it's mother lying on the ground dead. Very emotional at the time.

Train fun

Spoiler for 18+ stuff :P :

I'm in a sprinter train, sitting second class. I'm sitting on the right side of the isle, in the seat directly next to it. Most of the seats around me are occupied. To my right is someone, in front of me are people as well, whom are sitting in a four seater. To my immediate left are two white girls and behind them is a white woman. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'm busy, presumably with my phone. I start to hear some moaning. Soft enough for me not to know what I'm hearing at first. Eventually the sound becomes louder and I can see that the girl to my left is fingering the girl to her left, who has her pants somewhat down. The moaning is quite intense and it's reached an embarrassing point where everyone obviously can hear it, but no one wants to say anything. The girls seem oblivious. After they're done, at least one of them starts to notice and become embarrassed. She had no clue how loud they were.

Fragments
> I'm going around on a tropical island, together with other people. I think we had to complete some assignments, though I can't recall what.

> I'm with a close friend and my housemate, though I'm not certain I'm with them at the same time. First I'm in a bus and later I'm in a school with my friend. We're looking for a classroom. I'm already late for class. Eventually we venture down a long hallway where a white woman is standing who I think is the teacher. She's waiting. She's talking to someone or multiple people... guards? The class I'm going to attend is a coffee brewing class I think. The other students and I form a huddle before we leave.

Ex

Spoiler for Some more 18+ stuff :

I'm in a room which isn't really dark, but also not really light. There are two mattresses next to each other and there are a total of 5 people lying on them. I'm on my back, on the left mattress. To my left is my ex girlfriend. To my right is a girl who is/was a good friend of hers. To her right is a boy/girl couple. I don't recognise them but apparently we're friends, or at least acquainted. My ex and I start messing around a bit, making out, until we're at the point where were nearly having sex, despite the others being here. In this dream we've already had some fun together with her friend, so it doesn't matter much anyway. It's all good until I accidentally hurt my ex. She immediately has a bruise on the right side of her stomach, quite large as well. She's mad and sees it as a sign that we broke up for good reason. I'm pleading, saying it was just an accident. She ends up moving to a mattress that's a few centimetres to our left and a bit lower. After a while her friend also wants to move, so she and the guy scoot right, while the other girl takes her place (still get it? ).

Cinema
I'm in the cinema where I used to work with a friend of mine. Not sure if we've already gone to the movie or still want to go, but we figure we need to pee. We go to the toilets on the third floor, which aren't there in reality. Pretty much all occupied. Ow lets go to the second floor. There's another guy with us who doesn't quite get why. I tell him that that floor is always less crowded. It turns out that the second floor is totally under construction. There's not a single working toilet. Damn.

In the main hall against the wall, there's an animation or a statue of a smurf holding a big platform. He's squatting with it and every time he pushes out, he goes up a bit, bringing the platform closer to the ceiling every time. That's quite fun.

Okay I don't have time right now to do this elaborately so I'll jot down some keywords so I won't forget anything.

Went to bed: 22:00
Fell asleep: 22:30
Awakening 1: 04:30
Fell asleep: 04:32
Final awakening: 6:15

My recall was fuzzy at first because I did not wake up during dreams, and there is no recall from before 04:30, but after thinking about my dreams during breakfast a lot of things slipped into my mind again and I ended up with one fragment and two dreams.

1: Obstacle race

This is merely a fragment and some feelings along with it. I don't really recall what I was doing but I know it was an overhead perspective and I got the term 'obstacle race' popping up constantly. I remember that it was a really strange situation although I really can't say why. It was competitive and pretty intense.

2: Flirting & football at high school/university
My recall starts in a classroom. I am talking to a few people, I think girls, of which I find one quite interesting and the other not very much. We walk out of the classroom as the last few people and the people of the next class are already sitting in the classroom as we leave.
The girl I find interesting walks ahead of us and doesn't seem to be interested in me, while the other girl walks with me. The place we're in resembles the central hall of the university I go to but I feel like it's high school. The girl is blonde and not unattractive but not really my type.
As we walk up a big flight of stairs she gets a little flirtatious, and in my head I try to decide whether or not I like this, and whether or not I should play along. Without really making a decision on that I do play along a little, until we reach the top of the stairs.
There I see the girl from before standing in a small group of 5 people, of which one is apparently her boyfriend. I think about talking to her but decide it wouldn't really do any good. The blonde girl is gone now and to my left is a huge window, filling up the wall completely. T, a friend from high school, is standing by the window looking outside. I go and stand next to him.
Outside I see a field of grass looking exactly like the sports field of my old high school. Somehow, even though we're on the first floor and there's a window inbetween, we are kicking footballs to people on the field. Even though T doesn't play football IRL and actually really sucks at it, he takes some amazing shots with strange curves and perfect precision. I think I take one shot as well but I don't recall whether it was any good or not (it should, I played football for 9 years).

Forgetting my bag and putting on cologne

Recall starts on the doormat. I have just put on one of my shoes as I realise I forgot to put my sports clothes in my bag and I forgot to take the bag itself from upstairs. I don't want to take off the shoe as I'm in a hurry, but I am not allowed to have shoes on in the house so I hop through the living room, up the stairs and to my bedroom on one foot. I'm actually surprised at how well and how fast I got up the stairs this way. All the while I try to make sure my mom doesn't see me hopping through the house with one shoe on. I cram my sports clothes and shoes into my bag and close it. Before walking out of my bedroom I suddenly realise I didn't put any cologne on yet. I quickly do so while watching for my mom. The smell of the cologne is unbelievably accurate and I even feel it sting slightly because I had shaved before. Then I hop down the stairs and take a glance at the clock. The time is 6:37 or something (it's an analog clock), which would be far too late, but I don't really care.

Ritual: Woke up at dawn after a DILD in which I was joyously flying over a gorgeous verdant landscape and admiring an enormous white castle. The detailed report took two pages and I don't see the need to reproduce them here, however, I'm amused to see that my initial notes on it look like an odd little poem:

party, paul
crash in kitchen
bird
ceiling, sky
oh, this is a dream, isn't it
fly up, clarity, joy
look at that castle, it's huge!
hello everyone, hello!

While flying around I wondered if I should try a TOTM, and remembered that February was ending but that I hadn't looked at the March list yet. After recording that dream, I reviewed the new TOTMs and went back to bed. At first I tried my vibrating alarm, but after an hour of unproductive sleep, decided that my state of mind was not suitable for that method and took it off. It was 8am by this point and my hopes weren't high, so all I did was think about the TOTMs as I went back to bed. I was especially drawn to the one where you ask DCs about their dream, because I thought I remembered planning to try that myself at one point but had never gotten around to it.

I actually did end up having another DILD in which I performed this task, but it wasn't very satisfying because I failed to wake and write promptly. This was annoying because during the dream itself I had been taking pains to try to remember the specific responses given by the DCs, but by the time I woke up fully at almost 10am, my memories had become blurred and vague. Here's what I can piece back together.

DILD: I was in a room with three male friends when I realized I was dreaming, and that the presence of the DCs was a perfect set up for the task I wanted to try. I approached one of the guys and asked him to tell me about a dream he had recently. He said something to the effect that he didn't remember any dreams but was curious about them.

What would it be like not to dream, I wondered—to be aware only of the moments when one is actually awake? It sounds like a kind of half-existence, a disturbing prospect.

I went over to the second guy, who was sitting on a barstool nearby, and discovered that his appearance had changed. Now he resembled... a jawa? Except his robe was red... no, a dark pink. Weird. When he spoke, his voice sounded high and girlish. I don't remember the details of his reply, but it was also in the negative. No dreams to report.

I approached the third guy and asked if he remembered any dreams. My hopes weren't high, but I was pleasantly surprised when he said he had dreamed about a location where HEMA could be practiced. (HEMA stands for Historical European Martial Arts, something I've been practicing since last year.) He started telling me about a weapon that he called a "brouheea" or something like that. I couldn't make sense of the word and asked him to repeat it a few times, so he showed me an example of one that was in a display case on the wall. It was shaped like a tiny axe, about six inches long, and the label demonstrated that the word had a complex spelling with a silent last syllable, like "Brouheeages." I thought it sounded vaguely Dutch.

When I finally woke up some time later, it was frustrating not to be able to recall if the three guys, who I had thought of as "friends" within the context of the dream, had represented specific WL friends or had simply been random DCs who felt familiar at the time (I get this a lot).

Nothing last night neither (d'oh) - what a life!

Still with the white lines tho', which is actually quite interesting in its own right?

It really feels as though you're seeing the room through closed eyes!

I know it's probably not really doing that, but why is it happening + why also the strange consistency?

I'd have thought of 'inventing' something like that to happen!

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it 'might' be something!

One can but live in hope...

1/3/16:
I remembered about 3-4 dreams when I woke up but I forgot to write them down as getting extra sleep was a major priority, so I can only half remember one or two now.
Dream 1: I was in a room in a building underground with a ladder reaching up to the surface level. I kept on trying to climb up it to escape but was continually forced back down, because I was a heretic or something. I kept on trying with different costumes and tried flying and stuff but nothing worked, they weren't fooled.

Dream 2: I was on a large waterslide with my little brother. I was facing backwards and watching him to make sure he was alright. The slight was pretty cool with a massive drop where we got some air at the end.

A very long dream. It surely must have been multiple connected dreams, but I never explicitly chained. Nonethless, even while morphing, the narrative was strong and connected throughout. There are just a few spots of lucidity but some very rich thematic content. I don't have DILDs so often anymore, but when I do they become these sprawling bizarre sagas.

M*A*S*H

We begin in a large army tent. I am attending a reunion of the cast of the TV show M*A*S*H and I recognize several of the actors. They perform a skit, satirizing the show (which, itself, was also a satire). Alan Alda is playing the role of Hunnicut and the actor who played Hunnicut is playing Hawkeye. This is evident because they have swapped hair styles. Or maybe it's Trapper instead of Hunnicut. We all think it's hilarious. Soon it's time for bed and everyone finds a makeshift spot on the furniture or the ground to sleep on. As the lights go dark, I hear Colonel Potter shout something. I think to hush him, but first I wait a beat in the hopes that no one else was disturbed. It's quiet for a moment. But after another beat, everyone starts shushing the Colonel at the same time. It's as if everyone was thinking the same thing as I was: to wait and see if anyone else will act before taking action for oneself.

I get up and slip out of the room. Perhaps I was thinking to go to the kitchen to get some water for the Colonel. As I exit that room, I am now in the Daisetta house. In the dining room ajoining the kitchen, I find more characters on the floor, trying to sleep. But one of them is listening to a radio and that is preventing them all from sleeping. The man with the radio turns out to be J, who is technically my Godfather even though we have long since lost contact. I help him up and quietly get him to turn off the radio.

"What are you doing on the floor?" I'm not fully lucid, but I am aware that I am visiting a place from my past. "We had a futon in this house, you could have slept there." I turn to lead him to the office/guest room, but in our path enters my sister. Uh-oh. Not this. (Dreams with my sister tend to be boring, so I have developed the reflex to avoid her.) I turn back around. You're on your own Godfather, lotsa luck. Walking away leads me into the kitchen, which is a dead-end. Trapped! Survival instinct kicks in: I had better eat. I scan the fridge and pantry, looking for something to eat. Anything to lead the narrative somewhere else. Not finding anything, I turn to the counter and my sister is still there. Grrr.

A Strange Orange (but not clockwork)

On the counter are some oranges, so I grab one and start peeling it. Looking more closely, it's a strange orange. It's not full and round, but rather shrunken and withered. It doesn't seem spoiled though. Opening it, I find the center is hollow and surrounded by a dryish pith with stringy fibers and seeds. Quite like a pumpkin. I intuit that my Godfather brought these along with him with his visit. They are some rare variety and he gives them as gifts as a novelty. It's quaint, but pretentious, so thinks I. And I would be an expert on pretentiousness.

My sister is still there, watching me struggle with this orange. She imposes: "You have to remove the seeds like this." She demonstrates scraping her fingernails along the string fibers to free the seeds, which are also rather pumpkin-like. My indignation boils. Oh yes, please, Your Highness. Won't you educate me in the fine art of orange peeling? Liberate me from my ignorance. Sarcasm notwithstanding, I copy her anyway. It's tedious removing the seeds and I'm almost done but really just want to taste the thing once.

Before I can taste the orange, my labor is interrupted by the voice of my mother from some other room. "Bring your sister!" It's not a bad idea. Ditch the sister with the mother and let them annihilate each other like matter and anti-matter.

I wander through a few rooms, following the sound of her voice. But now it seems that I'm in an airport, as if I have just picked up my sister from travel and now we are to find the parking lot. We exit through a side door and are briefly in a courtyard with tables for eating. There sits my father. My sister and I walk past. I say, "Oh by the way, there's your father." We glance, but just walk on by and through another door.

More doors and now we're back in the dining room of the Daisetta house. Sigh, I'm always going in circles. Still pushing that rock, eh Sisyphus? Can Penance with no end be fairly called Penance? I think the right word is Damnation.

The DCs from before are gone. Just me and sister. I sit at the dining table. She sits too and pulls out my laptop. She starts typing something and, as I peek at the screen, I see she's writing a journal entry using the same software that I use. I become rather nervous that she might have read one of my journal entries. On the other hand, at this moment, it is me who is snooping on her journal. Tu quoque?

I stare at the screen. I notice that she uses a font different from the default, like I do, both in my dream journal and personal journal. Her font choice is much stranger though, almost wingdings. I continue to stare, trying to read the words but distracted by the font and how each letter shows an animation as it is added, simulating a typewriter effect (or affect). The periphery of the scene fades to black around the glowing screen.

"Can" and "Should"

The software on the screen changes into what looks like an image-editing program. This change seems to have disrupted the entire scene. Maybe we're through to the other side of this modern looking-glass? We are still in the dining room but it's no longer my sister using the computer, it's a teen-aged girl. As best I can tell in the dim light, she has dark brown, almost black, hair cut to shoulder length and very pale skin. She might have a stud piercing in her lip or nose, I forget which. She is aware of me but pays me no mind. She is as entranced by the glowing screen as I was.

Without a word or a glance, she hands me the device, which is now a tablet instead of a laptop. She pulls out another one for herself and resumes her revery. Now in control of my own device, I try to determine exactly what this software does. I see that it is called "Tiny Perfect" but that doesn't give much hint to its function yet. I am first given the option of a range of numbers. I choose 18-19. Now, a grid of pixels appears with some more guide lines overlayed on the grid. I intuit that 18-19 is the number of pixels in length of the side of a square area. With this square now defined, I can choose an area of the image to clip. The image on the screen is of the dark-haired girl (no doubt a selfie she took when she was holding it). I clip the area around her face. The software makes a scissor-snip sound and clips the face. It then transforms that realistic face into a cartoonish avatar, and shrinks it to the size of an icon. I guess that's what "Tiny Perfect" means. This little image now slides into a collection of many similar images of girls faces, all practically the same, only differing in the shade of color for skin and hair. I am not impressed by this modern tool of vanity. (He wrote. "He" being the author of a public dream journal.) Yet another feat of software that is all about coulda, not shoulda.

A second girl enters, perhaps the friend of the other one and about the same age. This new girl has long straight blonde hair and just a bit more complexion in her face. Freckles, maybe? Besides the slightly different features, these two girls belong to the same "type," if I may so judge. Without a word or acknowledgement, this girl sits in my lap and takes the tablet from me. And just like the brunette, this blonde assumes an empty gaze at the screen.

I am confused and annoyed. My attention turns to my body, with this strange girl taking residence in my lap like it was nothing. I put my hand on her leg, but she doesn't react. She wears black skinny jeans. I move my hand up her inner thigh, but still no reaction. Conflicting urges and cognitive dissonance fill my mind, which ironically causes my lucidity to peak. Very literally, lucidity means "clear thinking" but that would be the opposite of my mental state. I simultaneously feel desire and aversion to this little jailbait. Knowing that this is a dream only complicates things. The wiser part of me steers my inner thoughts from What CAN I do? to What SHOULD I do?

Yes, what should I do? Always with the questions, I am. I should... I should fuck this chick silly. Why not? No, I should slap this little brat from jumping into my lap. Respect another person's space. That'll teach her. No, I should take her tablet away. That will really make her mad. An eye for an eye, a tablet for a tablet. But I catch myself and reflect. Is Vengence what I really want here? Sadly, the word "should" only invites my self-righteous side. However, I know enough about myself to steer away from that course too.

Okay, forget CAN and SHOULD. What was I SUPPOSED to do? The right question makes for an easier answer. Rather than make a choice right now, let me instead trust in a choice that I had previously made, when I was in a more reasonable state of mind (that is, when I was non-lucid; the irony continues). I was supposed to bring something to my mother. Okay, yes, let's do that.

Bureaucrazy

Having chosen a new plan but not a very interesting one, my lucidity is fading now as I return to some more rote territory. I leave the dining room. Of course, the two girls take no notice -- still and forever staring at their screens. I enter the door for the master bedroom, but now it seems I'm back in the parking lot next to the airport. I walk out into the clear day. Nice to be outdoors. Though a bit glum. It's a smoggy airport, all concrete and the noxious smell of fuel. I walk to a nearby administration building, wherein I will find the office my mother works in.

I navigate office hallways. It's busy and crowded. Over-crowded, I'd say. Some offices, some cubicles, characters having conversations in hallways on benches and standing. Dull, flickering florescent lights reveal the aging white walls and plain, cheap furnishings. I notice that everyone is dressed casually. I get the help of someone, a tall black man who seems to know where everything is and keeps a positive and friendly disposition. I find that surprising, considering that I imagine working in a crowded and busy place like this would burn me out very quickly. In my mind, I walk a mile in his shoes and it doesn't seem very pleasant. Some people are just different though, and they thrive on sociability. My mother is like that, and that's probably why she's here. And why we have so little in common.

I finally find her office, but our encounter is brief. I deliver her some paperwork. I think it was a questionnaire I had completed for her. She tells me to talk to someone with a G-name who will lead me back to the parking lot. But she warns me strongly not to listen to another woman with an L-name, even though this person works in the parking lot.

I leave her office. I'm not sure I understood her directions. How will I recognize who these Mr. G and Ms. L persons are? Besides, I just came from the parking lot -- can't I find my way back on my own? How do you get lost in a public building like this? I mean, it might be a bit confusing but there are always signs and maps to guide visitors. But just as I'm entering a hallway that leads to a clearly marked exit, a man stops me and introduces himself as Mr. G and starts to turn me around back toward the office cubicles. Just as I turn, in the distance of the hallway that leads to the exit, I hear a woman shout at me while she is restrained by guards. "Wait! I'm L! I can show you the way!" That's weird. But she gets lost in the sea of people crowding the hallway.

Mr. G leads me through the building to a meeting room where many other people -- employees, as I take them -- are waiting for a meeting to start. Mr. G says he will be back soon with the directions I need and I should wait here. He leaves and the tall man from before enters, still friendly and sociable, but I start to suspect he's meant to guard the door so I don't leave. I take in the room. There's about 30 people, mostly in a ring around the edge of the room, leaning on desks and chairs. They are waiting that kind of impatient waiting that happens when people are in public and becoming bored and frustrated, but know well enough to remain civil. As before, they are all dressed casually and, as I look a bit longer, I notice about half of them are wearing Denver Broncos gear. Hmm. Fair-weather fans... Of the remaining half, there's still a lot of football teams represented on their clothes. And most of them are chewing gum, which peeves me.

Gauche... I snark, and smile a cruel grin of self-amusement. But again, I scold myself for my recurring misanthropy, this time in the form of elitism. Lest ye be judged, I remind myself. Once again, the dissonance rekindles my lucidity. If I'm dreaming then these aren't real people, so what does it matter if I judge them? Point. But if I'm dreaming, then these characters are me, so isn't the judgement directed at yourself? Counter-point. They's probably looking at me, so what cruel judgements might they be making of me? Point. But if we're all doing the same thing against each other, don't we all share some universal commonality? Counter-point. Caught once again in my own paradoxes, I again resolve to just accept the experience and continue.

What was I supposed to be doing? Right, the directions from Mr. G. C'mon, man. Let's giddyup, I don't want to be stuck here. On cue, the tall man gets my attention and leads me back out to the central cubicle area where we find Mr. G, who hands me a slip of white paper taped to a folded piece of red paper. They bid me a hasty goodbye. I find a relatively quiet corner of the room and examine the papers, first the white. In pencil, there are some neatly written instructions: "Take the 474 to the 929, but you must arrive before 5."

Wait, what? I look around for Mr. G or the tall man, but they are gone. Are these numbers of freeways or bus lines? Was 474 supposed to be 747? Is that an airplane? My dismay grows into frustration. I was just going to the parking lot! I drove here! Why would I need a bus or a flight?! I look back at what I'm holding, in particular the red paper to which the note was taped. If it were a bus schedule, that might make things clear. But no, it's a pamphlet that describes how to submit a formal complaint with the office administration. That really pisses me off. Yes, I have a complaint. No, I do not delight in this irony (not at the time anyway, later maybe). I draw a short but powerful breath, like I'm going to start throwing punches.

My lucidity is now overflowing. Fuck. This. Place. I turn to the hallway, which is conveniently once again that straight path with the clearly marked exit at the end. I storm through the crowd full of resolve but not much purpose, if that makes sense. Without a plan I walk through the exit. I suppose my intent was: Anywhere but here!

Can you tame a crocodile?

I exit and once again I am outdoors. No office buildings. No parking lot. No airport. Not even the house. I'm in a bright and vivid park. The sky is clear. There's grass and trees and curving stone pathways. I see circus-like tents and stages. I hear splashing water and barking seals. I must be in an animal-themed amusement park. There are people strolling. A blond-haired man in front of me laughs a hearty laugh as he speaks into a cellphone with an English accent.

I draw another breath, this time long and calming. I feel almost dizzy with relief and my lucidity eases to a lower but still acceptable level. I was supposed to get back to the parking lot. But I can do that later. I'm here, and apparently, I got in for free. So why not take advantage and spend the day here? Then I'll find the parking lot.

I walk toward one of the attractions, which is partly obscured by trees but it seems to be a giant pool in the middle of an amphitheater shaded by awnings. I hear more splashes and that giggling sound that dolphins make. It must be a water show. Drawn to it, I start walking along the paths through grass. I'm startled though, as I see a rustle in the grass to my left. It's a green crocodile, facing away from me but clear as day. It pauses, then scutters a few steps and eats a smaller crocodile in one huge bite. The croc now become larger and its skin turns from green to yellow. It moves forward again and eats yet another croc in one bite and becomes yet larger. It's skin turns to brown.

I am a bit frightened. At least the thing is moving away from me. But in so moving, it's getting closer to a young boy who is playing on the grass. He has blond hair with a light blue shirt and shorts in a darker shade of blue. I don't act or even speak, but I feel a sense of panic for him: Kid, get away from the crocodile! I look back at the animal. They really shouldn't have these roaming free in the park! As I watch, I analyze. And a semblance of logic progresses. But they wouldn't do that if they were dangerous... So they must not be dangerous. Maybe they are tame crocodiles... Can you tame a crocodile?

My panic has been replaced with curiosity. I take a closer look at the croc and realize that it is actually a series of animatronic puppets. They move and light up in particular sequence to give the illusion of eating and growing bigger. The series repeats over and over, merely for amusement.

Relieved, I turn my vision elsewhere. But just to my right, I'm startled again. This time, there's a growling brown bear starting at me. Its fur trembles as it growls. Again, I feel fear but begin to recover. Ah, got me with that one... Another convincing puppet, right? Like the crocodile, right? I stare at the bear for a moment, looking for some evidence that it is indeed a fake. It doesn't move. And enough time passes that it seems it won't move. And no one else around me is afraid, so it must be just another amusement. As if on cue to confirm my belief, another young boy runs, jumps, and plants his foot on the bear, he balances and poses briefly, and then pushes off. A sort of parkour stunt perhaps. This confirms that the bear is just a fake piece of the scenery. Yet privately, I am thankful to this kid for helping to ease my concern.

That was enough thrill for one day. Now, where's that parking lot?

I was in home. My sister was tidying the house, everyone was preparing for some kind of holiday. I took a little kitten to train for a tournament. I heard a voice that told me to look a cat into its eyes, and if it roars, the cat would serve me forever. Then I went to help my mother drill into a thick glass plate using electric tools. Next day it was the tournament time. I went to my kitchen and saw a samurai sitting on a chair and holding a box full of kittens. I went to him and said "Greetings emperor! I am from a Ponk restaurant, joining in to fight to restore my honor!" Suddenly I looked inside his box, there were many different little kittens inside. One of them looked into my eyes and roared.