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Ok.. i was having a band practice with an unknown band.. in the dream it was my band, but i dont know either the band members or the music. We were practicing in a bomb shelter. It was a nice place.. and we just got new bass player, and it was a woman. Then we celebrated with the band and my ex girl.. around a table. We started drinking.. well we were drunk already i think. And someone said sometging similar to "piki" which is how i called my ex. And she thought that that person said that, and she remembered out past times. But anyways.. we drank more.. I was driving a car.. i didnt feel drunk, i wanted to change a sweater. I got out of the car and i was drunk again. I went to my hotel.. which was not a hotel anymore. There were some wooden stairs and next to it it was a i dont know.. a slide so that you can go up the stairs by bike or a wheelchair. It was another bar now not a hotel. We went up.. and it was obviously closed because it was a fence and at least 3m drop to get to the bar. I said well guys it is closed.. i turned around and 2 babes came up the stairs and said.. bye.. se you tomorrow.. like we were there all night. AH ok.. i slided down the stairs.. and on the bottom i fell under someones table.. i was laughing and i was drunk. I stood up.. trying to walk.. the scene was weird. Everyone looked like a snowboarders mixed with disco peple. There were some girls and on the floor it was hay all over. It was a giant stable. I said to myself.. this is a good place to pick a girl.. i walked more.. fell again on the hay.. my vision started to be very drunk.. everything was spinning.. i couldnt keep the pace with my friends.. they were kicking some inflatable sex toy.. and i was still falling down and rising up.. they saw me and they laughed, they started to imitate my falls.. i tried to get to them.. but i fell again,, and i said to myself.. wtf? ive been drunk many times but this must be a dream! switching to lucid.. the first thing i saw was a computer. i dont know why.. it turned on.. and there were millions of colors in it. The camera of the dream moved slowly so the camera angle was from my bed.. like i was having opened eyes and i am just looking from my bed. Images on the computer were jumpy and colorful.. it was like some comercial about getting everything bigger. There were some little books just popping into a bigger ones.. and flowers were growing with super speed. And my bed became a bar stand. The computer was still there between the liquer. and a waitress came to serve me. she was blonde and good looking. My focus changed from the computer to her. I looked at her and she was changing shapes. she was aging superfast.. she was old in like 5 seconds. Then i woke up. Well it was a lucid dream but no control over it.

Morning of January 14, 2014. Tuesday.



A part of the first dream was quite specifically precognitive (of the type which I have always welcomed compared to the day to day trivial visual type). Needless to say, both my wife and myself almost hurt ourselves laughing when the details became known.

In my dream, there is a visit by a prince of a small town. It seems unusual in that the prince is from another close region and representing modern Western culture (rather than being a typical politician, for example). He goes around making speeches but not many people continue to listen as they start to suspect he has some sort of mental issues. Still, for some reason, I and a few others follow his misadventures out of a choice to “protect the village idiot

This is a very long dream, but I will not get into some of the details other than a few here. Somehow, there is an old Greek building which is apparently a political building that was destroyed by recent war (perhaps it is the future). The "prince” gets up onto a broken Greek column (which is a few feet up from the ground) and uses it as a “throne” even though there are a few sharp bits sticking up which he complains about. He speaks, “Whoever after due and proper warning shall be heard to utter the abominable word ‘Briz-bane’, which has no linguistic or other warrant, shall be deemed guilty of a High Misdemeanor”. He then goes on to say how he is not satisfied with the “county seat” (which is not really a term used in Australia). I am reminded of something I had read ages ago and realize that this “prince” must be a direct (fictional; in dream only) descendant of Emperor Norton.

Over time, it seems he actually transforms into his ancestor, Emperor Norton, but the majority of people ignore his speeches (until later on). He mostly claims how “everything” (in Australia) is his and that every building in the country represents “his grocery store” and every person is his grocer. He has arguments with a few people but does not seem remotely discouraged or even aware that they are complaining or running from him. He goes to a movie theater proclaiming it to be a grocery store and gives a speech as to the importance of movie theaters actually being grocery stores and again, how “every man is my grocer”. “I know all of you very well,” he says (even though he seems to know nothing about anyone), “each and every one of you is my grocer." Soon, he seems to be on a quest for the best pumpkin pie. He goes into a woman’s clothing store and sees women undressing, proclaiming it to be the "most obvious grocery store” in the region. “Because it has the most bread,” he says (which I do not quite get - perhaps he meant “breast”.)

Near the last part, he is giving a speech in a more isolated area. “Even this isolated meadow is my grocery store,” he proclaims, “and all of you are my grocers…the fact that you are here now is proof that you are here to be my grocers…”

Suddenly, a pack of wild dogs (mostly larger brown ones), running about in a rather chaotic way otherwise, and nipping at each other’s faces, is headed straight for him. He has no awareness of the danger. Five are headed directly at him as they pass me. Becoming slightly semi-lucid, I merely wave my arms and they suddenly cringe, look confused, and turn around to go back in the direction they came from. I notice that the area is near an arc-shaped gravel road but does not immediately remind me of any real-life location - especially as it seems to just be an isolated arc-shaped gravel road in the middle of nowhere with no other discernible signs of human habitation (this relates to the “C” of Cowsills, as well as possibly my first name, but is a bit too complex to get into here). For some reason, this scene with the dogs strikes me as being particularly hilarious - not even sure why. I guess it is the overall comedic mood of a pack of dogs jumping about and running to go after someone and then suddenly turning tail and going back the other way and checking back a couple times to see if I am still there.

After this, I see someone in town near a row of commercial buildings who comes out from an alleyway. He is Greg R, a supposed cocaine addict I knew from work on Copeland Avenue and have not seen at all in years. “Man, that prince sure f-ed my town up,” he says at the mostly empty streets. I could not care less at this point. I am sitting on the sidewalk with my legs out, leaned up against a building somewhat. Somehow I become semi-lucid enough to be aware that my wife is close by and coming to see me. She comes and sits on me and we start making out in public (although there are not that many people on the streets by this point).

Morning of January 14, 2014. Tuesday.



My wife Zsuzsanna and I are back at the house in Wavell Heights in Brisbane where our two oldest also lived when growing up. The house is similar to the real one when we lived there, but with several minor differences. Most of my dream takes place in the kitchen. Zsuzsanna seems to be making a salad with carrots and lettuce.

We are babysitting the girl of a single mother, although I am unsure if it is “our” house in my dream or if we are supposedly at her house (even though it was ours in reality years ago). After a time, it seems that there is concern about where the girl is that we are supposed to be babysitting and she is nowhere to be seen; nowhere in the house or yard. I think about what we should do, as it seems to be problematic to be babysitting a child who is not even present.

Soon though, the dark-haired girl makes an appearance in the kitchen. When questioned, she says that she had been down by the riverbank with her boyfriend, having taken her bicycle to the location. This seems a bit disrespectful in taking off without saying where she is going. I tell her that if she had vanished, no one would know where to look. I ask her if her mother just lets her go off at random times without any clue as to where she is going and it seems the answer is yes.

“Your mother is a nut job!” I add dramatically. She goes and sits in the corner in the kitchen, to the right of the doorway, to brood. I soon notice that she has numerous tiny white spots on her shirt, seemingly caused by the ever-amusing “healing powder” (over “healing power”) mix-up. Apparently, a packet of maize flour had been thrown at her. The “healing powder” vs. “healing power” blunder always amuses me when it occurs in my dreams (though this only happens when I use “healing power” in lucid auto-scripting and it carries over in a distorted form in non-lucid dreams such as this one).

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It is of no consequence, really. Whether it is “powder” or “power” the overall results are similar enough. It is always maize flour. Even so, there is probably also a “flour girl” and “flower girl” mix-up at some levels.

“It may look like an antibiotic but inside it you have chalk, powder or if you are lucky, you get maize flour or whatever is inside there, decried Prof Rogo.” Sudan: Outdated legislation hindering health programs in Africa by Mena Report.

“I love the flower girl”; a relevant Cowsills lyric. (Zsuzsanna was the flower girl as a child in hippie Nimbin during the Mardi Grass/Aquarius festival, one of hundreds of precise dream clues that led to my real-life discovery of her as my soulmate).

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Aside from the subliminal auto-scripting in this dream that yet again confused “power” with “powder”, the young girl being down by the river with her bicycle is an autosymbolic play on dream state induction itself (as well as a childhood reference to the Dickey Lee song “Patches”). The river signifies spiritual communication as well as dream state initiation, with a younger version of Zsuzsanna, and the bicycle as an element of the physical body, signifying vague awareness of the hypnopompic kick that only truncates some dreams in the first stage of the sleep cycle.

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Journal Entry non-lucid #6 Dream, non-dream (Comments)
Background: I stressed myself with countless reality checks on Sunday, and was a little nervous about my school starting so my dream recall was very blurry and at first I didn't remember anything. I tried many times but it came back to me later on when I wasn't trying. From one detail I worked my way up or backwards. The 1st dream is influenced by a game GTA 5, I don't know about the second. The third, I had a conversation telling my sister not to go to parties.

Dream fragment 1 from 8:30pm-2:30am" Airport ": I was in some sort of airport.

Dream fragment 2 3:30am-5:55am " Neighbors ": I heard my neighbor's alarm going off, so I rush over to see if they were ok. It was broad day light but my neighbors are very old. They are probably both in their 80s and they both have medical problems. Before his wife left to a treatment home, he used to take care of his wife. The guy doesn't have any one to take care of him, his children are not there for him. His wife got diagnosed with some brain disease which I don't know in too much detail but I know that she cannot communicate like she used to, all her words would just come out as loud slurs. I think it also affected her memories. Well I just wanted to set the back story to why it was so emotional. When I ran to their door, I saw them coming behind me, with another women I didn't know. My neighbor's wife was in a wheel chair, in waking life she is not in a wheel chair. I then came to them in relief that they were ok. For some reason I just wanted to hug them. I didn't want to leave that random women out of it, and make her feel left out, so I casually hugged her since she was the closest to me. I then went to hug the mans wife and I looked at her eyes, she was full of joy and she had this sparkle in her eyes. I was also so happy that they were happy. She was a little chubby and didn't look exactly the way in waking world, she is very skinny and look as though she doesn't eat. Her husband on the other hand looked exactly the same. I don't remember hugging him, but I am pretty sure I did. Oh yeah their house was shining white.

Dream fragment 3 3:30am-5:55am " Zefrank and The Singing Animals": Zefrank was in my dream and we were talking about how newer generation of children don't think that they should care for others. Me and Zefrank were next to an ocean. Zefrank started singing about something and it turned into some sort of music video with animals singing. I don't remember the details.


Dream fragment 4 3:30am-5:55am" Family Gathering ": I was inside my house and my whole family came to visit. My house was however bigger than it is in waking life. My uncles were there. I went and greeted everybody except my cousin, LY. I only remember of her being annoying when she was younger so I didn't say hi. She did get older, but I assumed she was the same. Then I asked a guy from my church, where all these books came from and he said it belonged to him. I was amazed and jealous that he has access to a wide variety of books. It was all over the shelves as well.

Dream fragment 5 3:30am-5:55am" Block Party": I was at a block party. I told my sister that parties are useless and a waste of time. Of course she didn't listen to me. After seeing every one dancing and myself not, I said, "what doesn't make sense is that I am in a party". After hearing me question the reality my sister and cousin came to me and they said there is a motorcycle over and I should go play with it. I then went to the motorcycle. It was actually a one wheeler, and it looked very futuristic. I got on it and it could go pretty fast. I went about a block from the block party, but I couldn't control the motorcycle very well. It was slowing down on its own. I then tried to make it go fast yanked back the handle, pushed it forward, nothing. As it was slowing down this guy from the party jumps out and steals the bike from me. Not caring too much about it I let it go and did something else.

I'm standing in front of a row of elevators with reflective gold-colored doors, and in a sort of voiceover I'm hearing what sounds like an article about a scientific study of reflections. There's a lot of information that sounded reasonable at the time but didn't actually translate to waking life - for example, your eyes perceive this angle of motion and expect an impact that never comes, causing tension, and resulting in your attention focusing on this or that minor detail. As I get into the elevator, the article is saying something about there being two different ways to think of reflections which both carry different benefits, and it goes on to explain the two ways. I find this interesting and decide to experiment with switching to the other way of thinking, which is viewing your reflection as a separate person, even expecting it to talk. Acting on the article's advice, I address my reflection on the mirrored elevator wall. My reflection's a great deal taller than me, and completely covered by a hooded cloak. I find I like him - or it - a great deal.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Some vague fragment involving briefly passing through an exhibit to do with planets, and something about Artemis.

There's a woman who's determined to hold onto the hand of some monstrously deformed figure who keeps trying to shy away. She's thinking about how she's been through some kinds of transformations in the past herself, so it takes more than some monstrous appearance to frighten her off. The monstrous one's thinking something about Cain, and something about two angels, one in favor of allowing the other's creations - humans - to develop variations of themselves (which is to say, to have children); the one who created them was opposed; and now he's found his downfall in a relationship with a human, which wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for that decision, allowing the humans to develop into new variations.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

There's a man who's been running through the halls of a house and now reaches a dead end, a study with a portrait, which I briefly thought was a mirror. A man who's been following him at a walking pace comes into the room and starts talking about the portrait, and about the history of the man in the painting, who was - is? - a vampire. He says, "They forgive him the very thing he (something)," and then something about "fell." Meanwhile the man who'd been running is stumbling around the room with his hand over his stomach like he's been injured, saying "Please!" There's a resemblance between him and the portrait.

1. i was in a weird city, somewhere abroad, dont know where. but it was always dark. no sun. And there was war, between some yellow robots and people. when the war outraged i had an eagle vision from the top.. i saw the battlefield. The robots were yellow and dirty, big as scycrapers. but the city had a lot of guardtowers. There was shooting from everywhere. Somehow my eaglevision stopped on the top of one skyscraper, and i was there watching the battle. Humans were shoothing good, but those robots were regenerating because of a small bettlebug next to them. I said shoot the beetle. And they listened. The small beetle transformed in to even bigger robot.. It was as tall as the building i was on. It looked at me and said. "do you want to fly??" I was staring at the robot, and than a woman next to me.. said .. "get ready" and the whole city started to shift. Like it was alive.. Buildings were getting smaller and bigger.. everything changed. the people were transformed into pictures.. and when the city stopped to shift.. all the pictures became people again. Robots were gone.. and mostly people did not recall what has just happened. I went back to my hostel.. and administrator asked me for a name. And i didnt know it. I only knew that my lastname is smith. I couldnt recall my name. And i asked the admin.. if everyday is the same.. and he said yes.

2. I was on the move.. i had to go somewhere with 2 of my friends with my car.. I passed 3 people. .when i was getting to my car. 2 guys and 1 woman. Someone said to me.. be aware of that woman, she is dangerous and evil. Those 2 guys drove away.. and only she was left. I dont know how i got into conversation with her.. but she looked so weird, dead! she was pale as a wall and dressed in black.. and her energy around was like she is dead. She introduce herself.. and i said. No that is not your name.. it cannot be. She said that she is telling the truth. I walk to her table pick some documents up. She tried to stop me.. but she couldnt. THere was some document with her picture. ANd it was true. She was who she said she was. I said. .are you dead? And she said no. But i look like that and i cannot help myself. She showed me the way to my car.. and in between i was telling her about a girl that actually look like her and she is alive. But she is wearing so much makeup that you could tear it off like a wallpaper from her face.. And than we came to the car. It was blocked by other cars.. I coudnt get out. We thought we have find a way but we didnt know how to get to there. it was some black doors leading to freedom. We walked to find a way.. we came into one hotel.. and a guy is running towards me.. and he stoped me. Where are you going he said. I answered i need to find that black door. He laughed and said the first turn left.. between the pillars.. We walked there and that was a hotel room for not rich people. It looked like a hospital.. a really loooong bunk bed.. people were lying next to each other for like 50m.. one next to another.. The floor was wooden, squeakey and it moved up and down. We came to next room which was almost empty.. and it was on the roof of the hotel. we saw the black door leading out.. And a friend said. ok no problem we can get out.. you know how to right? and i was not really sure if i know the way out. I mean.. the path was unlogical. but anyway it was the exit!

Dream 1:

I can't remember much of it, but we were going on a ski trip from our house with Bill Eddy, my friend's father, and we were having a lot of trouble getting our shit together. I argued with my brother quite violently at one point, and I may have attempted to choke him. This is very disconcerting to me.

Dream 2:

Churchball, for those of you who don't know, is basically basketball with some very slight rule alterations and played casually by members of the LDS Church. It can get pretty serious depending on where you go, even so far as stake-wide tournaments on Saturdays. In my dreams, I wasn't playing churchball, but I was playing basketball and it was in the gym of the church. I'm pretty sure our coach was Will Smith. On the field there were these spots with numbers on them. The first number was the row it was in, and the second number the column. So, the number 74 spot would be row 7, column 4. One of the members on our team ordered each of us onto a spot, and should the ball come to or near our spot, it was our responsibility to deal with it, like volleyball. I was placed in a few critical places and I failed my job every time. I've never been good at basketball.

After a while, I went into a small room on the back of the gym. In there was Conan O'Brien. He asked me a few questions about ex-Mormons and skiing and whatnot.

Dream of: 11 January 2014 "Making Up Stories"



surrounded by lies, preach the truth

My father is giving a party at the Gay Street House (a stately Victorian house in Portsmouth, Ohio in which my father lived from 1964 to 1997). About twenty people are present in the large living room (the floor plan is somewhat different from normal). One bottle of liquor is sitting on a table, but no one seems to be drinking. That seems strange because I think most people would have come to the party because liquor would be abundant. Its almost six o'clock and I have the feeling that at six o'clock the liquor bottles will be brought out. I'm thinking that many more people will show up because they know that they'll be able to drink as much as they want. This seems like the kind of party that my old friend Mark Tindal (1952-2013) would attend.

I recall that I used to go to parties like this when I was younger. I would go to several parties in the same night, one after the other. Now, however, most people who come to this party will simply stay here all evening and eat and drink as much as they want. This should be a good party.

My father (around 50 years old) is standing over in one corner. He has short black hair and I can hear him talking about his life when he was in the Marines. I recall that someone had told me that my father had been telling people that he had served in the Marines. His story-telling chatter seems quite odd because I know that he was never in the Marines. I wonder if he has wanted to be in the military all his life and if he is now simply making up stories as a way of fulfilling that desire.

The room finally starts filling up with people until probably a hundred people are present. It looks as if its time for the party to start. I notice that my sister (around 30 years old) has arrived. I walk over to her to speak with her. I know that she also is aware that my father was never in the Marines. She says that she has heard the story and that she was the one who in fact told me that my father had been propagating this story.

I'm just simply astounded that he is claiming to have been in the Marines. I catch his eye a couple times as he's telling the story, but he quickly glances away.

A few minutes before six o'clock, my father puts on a long black robe which falls to his ankles. The robe resembles ones he used to wear as a preacher when he was a young man. Apparently he's going to give a little sermon at six o'clock. This reminds me of how he was when he used to be a preacher.

Everyone is sitting around the perimeter of the room on what look like bleachers. One man who is apparently a singer stands up and someone asks him to start out a song. Walking around the middle of the room, he begins pointing at different people and sings out, "Praise father! Praise mother!"

I think of other phrases which might be sung, such as, "Praise the womb!"

As the man walks around the room, other people begin singing along with him. The party is starting to kick off.

Dream Commentary

Publishing dreams on the internet is an event which may radically affect one's own dreams.

Paradoxically, the dream-writers whose dreams I read on the Dream Journal web site seem disinclined to acknowledge this truth. I see little inclination of other dream-writers (slogging through their personal histories) to look for the effects of dream-publishing in the dreams, although when I read these published dreams - especially of regular dream-writers - I see what appears to me to be clear evidence of the internet-dream-publishing seeping into their dreams.

For myself, I look at all groups of people in my current dreams as potential metaphors for the group of dream-writers whom I've encountered on the internet. The idea that we're all at a party has occurred several times. I can imagine many other metaphors: a choir of singers, a team on a space ship, passengers on a cruise ship, students in a class, lodgers at a hotel, a masquerade ball, a banquet, a séance, etc. One of the best dreams I saw on the Dream Journal featured a group of kids who had telekinetic powers which enabled them to hack certain types of computer technology and who entered a group dream together in order to perform their hacking. Yet I'm not sure that that particular dream-writer had any concept that her dream might have been influenced by her dream-publishing.

I look at the people at the party in this dream as other dream-writers and dream-readers. I guess I just want to party.

On the flip side of seeing dream-writers in my dreams, another sort of party game which I play is putting myself in other people's dreams when I read them. If I think this person has been reading my dreams, and if someone in the dream reminds me of myself, I imagine that I am that person in the dream. If people are reading my dreams, I suspect that they are dreaming about me, whether they can see it or not.

And guess what - its usually fascinating and fun to imagine yourself in other people's dreams.

Dream Journal Home Page

In my dream, I stumbled upon a Manga (Japanese comic) store. It gave off a cool feeling, it looked kind of gray with a hint of blue, and had J-pop playing int he background. I saw the clerk staring at me, and he had with an expression like "What are you doing here American?" I didn't pay it much mind and approached him. I told him that I've been reading Manga online and I really wanted to get a collection going. So he goes to the wall and picks a box of a Manga series. It had Anima/Animus character archetypes and I wasn't quite into it and told that I would like something else. Then my dad appeared asking what I was doing and I explained. I then told the clerk that I would like something that is Action/Adventure I talked to my dad some more (I forgot the specifics of our conversation.) And I was presented with a bundle of Manga to start my collection. They were all boxed in/ stacked on each, and wrapped in clear plastic. I saw some Manga I didn't recognize, and saw some I didn't. I thought this was a good way to start me of and payed for it. I was a little shocked because the whole thing cost my $35 and I expected them to be more.

it was thanks giving im pretty sre of it and my grandpa was watching tv inside of a giant microwave. my grandma told me to turn it on reheat but i was hesitatant cuz i didnt want him getting to much radiation.

later there was a great battle involving every pokemon that ever was. the coolest one was Richu caause i rode on his back and he could fuck with gravity. also i was on a golf course with an m16 rifle giving some guy protection

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #180: The Dome of Stars

I have a false awakening in my house where I’m trying to do something as quickly as possible. What is it? Oh right -- I’m trying to get out because I’m having a lucid dream.

I move through the rooms as quickly as I can. The layout is similar, but just different enough to throw me off. I wind up in the garage and there’s a new hallway off of the south wall that wasn’t there before. I follow the hallway into what appears to be a bordello. Five or six women who look like Victorian-era prostitutes are standing or sitting near a set of mirrors. One of the seated women is reading a magazine, a couple of them are applying make-up, and some are just standing around not doing much of anything.

I feel like this is one of those LD scenarios where you’re supposed to be thinking sexy thoughts but the women mostly just seem like they’re relaxing on break. I really don’t feel like bothering them. I start asking them something about why they’re running the bordello in my house, but they start moving around and the scene feels a little confusing. I go ahead and phase out through the wall to clear my head.

Now I’m out on the street. Across the street I see a man standing under the branches of an oak. He looks Hawaiian, heavy-set with a salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. I remember the Task of the Month, and approach him asking, “What’s your New Year’s Resolution?”

He’s incredibly eager to answer, and a smile spreads across his face. “To make the most of things, <something something>, and…” He grabs one of my hands in both of his and finished triumphantly: “To cook with more cinnamon!”

His enthusiasm is contagious and I joyously shout, “Thank you for that great answer!” I pause for a moment. “But could you repeat that part in the middle?” He doesn’t seem interested in doing this, though, and wanders away.

Task done, now I just feel like exploring. I fly up past the top of the tree, reminding myself that “The world is yours…” I move up past the treetops and look out at the stars. It’s a beautiful night and I take a moment to enjoy the unfamiliar constellations. I notice one set of stars is exactly the same as a set in a different part of the sky. I laugh at my brain taking this “shortcut”. But then I wonder… did it only do this because I expect it to?

I fly up higher and higher until I can see that the sky is curving above me. In fact, there is no limitless sky but rather just a huge dome that I can reach the top of if I just fly high enough.

And I do! When I reach the very top of the dome, I see a small, glowing control panel! There’s a single flashing green button sitting there at the top of this dome of stars. But as I reach for it, I start losing altitude. I tell myself that “this is all mine” but I can’t shake the notion that I’m just not going to be able to reach that button to find out what it does. I reach up and up, trying to reach it, but the dream fades.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #179: The One Where I Fight Samuel L. Jackson

I have a false awakening but I notice that I’m alone (Wife is missing) and the bed has been turned 90 degrees. Right away I realize that this is a dream.

Something grabs me by the leg, pulls me out of the bed, and drags me to the floor. I look up and Samuel L. Jackson is standing over me! He says something along the lines of “You’re not going anywhere,” and starts to stomp down at me. I think that I should do some tricky/clever dream control thing but I feel too much like I’m in a fight to get it together.

We struggle for a moment until I manage to get my arm wrapped around his ankle, push my foot into his crotch, and then push up, lifting him off of his feet. He falls onto his back and we wrestle around kind of grabbing at each other’s feet to gain control. His head looks close enough to reach so I lash out, kicking him straight in the face. He flops back and stops moving.

I sit up and as I approach Samuel L. Jackson, he changes into a smallish, delicate-looking woman in her mid-20s. She looks Mediterranean and overall completely different from Samuel L. Jackson. “Help me, I’m pretty hurt...” she says, sitting up just a little bit. I feel bad for her, so I pick her up and carry her with me. I notice that she’s very cute but the fact that 15 seconds ago she was Samuel L. Jackson makes me quite uninterested.

We phase through the wall of the house out into the night. I want it to be morning, so I do a hulk-jump or two, expecting the time of day to shift. It does, and before long it’s early morning. We’re on a sidewalk outside of a cafe with a canvas awning.

I walk inside the cafe to find Wife sitting at a table with two strangers, one a heavy, hipster-looking guy and the other a pretty woman in her early 30s with short, brown hair. “I’m having a lucid dream,” I tell them, mostly to explain the fact that I’ve just carried a woman into the cafe with me.

“Ah,” says Wife, giving me a “Oh, another one of those” kind of look. I join them at the table along with the woman formerly known as Samuel L. Jackson, who now seems relatively unhurt and integrates herself naturally into the conversation. The hipster and the brown-haired woman are authors and they’re talking with Wife about their new book. The conversation is strange and it’s hard to understand details.

I’m also distracted by the food. There are little plates of small chocolate bars that I keep sampling. They taste delicious but they fade too quickly, almost as if they were so light and insubstantial that you only get a moment to taste them. At one point, Wife remarks, “He even thinks this is dream food.”

“I admit it, I do!” I say. Everyone chuckles like I’m an amusing eccentric.

Somehow the scene changes to a featureless room with three books lying on the floor. The two writers and the woman who once was Samuel L. Jackson walk out through the door, chatting about something.

I examine the second book. It’s by the writers we ate with and it’s about how early civilizations made fantastic technological leaps forward by using ideas that came to them in lucid dreams. I’m excited by the whole premise of the book. I really believe that it must be true. (I'm also partly offended that they acted so skeptical that I was having a lucid dream.)

“I really want to read this book,” I tell Wife, and she agrees that it sounds right up my alley. Now that we’re alone, I enjoy a little time making out with Wife until the dream ends.

My uber-strange dream from last night:

I was walking down to my gramma cellar un-lucid and everything was foggy like a windshield in the rain. I became lucid then and yelled "Clarity!" To my dream itself to clear up and most of the fog dissipated except for some in the corner of my vision so I spoke "clarity" a bit softer this time and walked upstairs to my gramma's porch. When I got there, there was (of all people who I'd do this with) Roger friggin Taylor. I was annoyed by his presence and asked him why he was here. He didn't answer and pulled me into a kiss.
I remember feeling I felt it was wrong like if you kissed a cousin or something. But, I didn't object. When he finished I asked him why he did that and he said because I wanted to and then the dream dissipated into a fumbling around fully awake me asking myself "what the hell just happened?!"

My Dream diagnosis: stop listening to queen 24/7 and stop obsessing over people I like

Went to bed without a question again last night, a little frustrated as the wife had her tv on in the bedroom.

Dreamscape opens into a industrial area, a factory . There is a keen awareness that the machinery is to the west, the south is open as if a large storage area. My back is largely to the east, and the north is seemingly out of bounds and walled off somehow. Seemed like it was on a floor with another below it. Machinery was running and people were there, one who I knew that I used to work with. One who was always down and depressed it seemed. Things were not working right, the machinery seems out of adjustment and there was an feeling of frustration and anger hanging in the air that all were becoming tuned into.
View shifts to the front porch of a large two story house with basement. Again facing west here with the south open to a field. Back is to the east and north is again seemingly walled off out of bounds. Off the porch is a large area that is a mix of kitchen area and laundry area. Again anger and frustration seems to fill the air for all to tune into. Lots of dirty dishes and laundry coming in to wash up. I seem to be trying to leave for work but cant seem to get my dishes for breakfast or clothes to put on. They seem to be tied up in the dirty dishes and clothes. I end up going around to the south and then east to the corner of the yard out back and face north near a pole in a tight area. trying to re-hinge a flap of some sorts over something . Two old guys are trying to tell me about this old way of hinging stuff and how it works so I can fix it. Dream ends here without me quite getting it fixed. Seems like they are sticking their hands in to help me.


The meaning of this one seems clear to me. The frustration and anger needs cleaned up inside me. Adjustments need made to my "spiritual machinery" before I can progress and face North again

I'm sitting in a hotel restaurant having lunch with my mom. We hear a rumble sound and the walls shake. I look out the window to see big chunks of concrete sidewalk pushed up in the air like a newly forming mountain range. I conclude that water in the ground under the sidewalk has frozen and expanded, pushing the concrete up. Somehow this has knocked the hotel's elevator air filtering system offline. They hire me to design and build a new one that is made from easy to find parts and can be maintained by someone with no experience. Right now they only need one so that people can get down from the many stories above. My friends and I build it inside of an elevator and we ride up and down with it to make sure it continues to work as people move around the floors. One part had to be cast out of metal by my dad, scaled up from a prototype I sent him. I'm worried that this violates the off-the-shelf parts requirement, but I figure the part is painted bright red so no one will notice.