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[QUOTE=Robot_Butler;796923]Friday night I tried 8mg GM. After an hour with a pounding heart and distracting thoughts, I took 3mg Melatonin, and moved to the guest room to avoid my girlfriend's snoring.

I think the melatonin messed up my dream recall, because I had a series of short dreams with FAs and real awakenings in between. I sort of remember them all as one long dream.

I started with GH's relaxation technique and some Reverse Blinking. I entered a trance within minutes. I felt Sleep Paralysis set in, with some strange body vibrations and such. I could hear my girlfriend banging pots and pans in the kitchen, and then watching old episodes of Roseanne in the living room. I knew this was impossible, because we don't have a TV. Still, it sounded so real, I considered that maybe she somehow was watching them on the internet.

The Dream Guide

I heard some rustling in the darkness of my room. I could not see anything. It sounded like short animals or people too small to be seen over the side of the bed. I was trying to roll myself out of the paralysis and into a dream without much success. After a few minutes, I heard a small mousy voice call out my name. It surprised me so bad, I popped right out of SP.

At least, I thought I did. I rolled to my side with some difficulty, not sure if I was asleep or awake. I could not move to perform a RC, so I wiggled my toes until I could move my arms. I heard the voice again. It sounded like a child's voice. It said, "Where do you want to go? What do you want to do tonight?" The voice was coming from behind me, just outside my field of vision. I assumed it was some sort of dream guide, so I answered it, "I want to go to France. To Paris." I was still gently struggling to free myself from my sleeping body, or turn around to see who I was talking to. The voice asked, "What is France?" I replied "Montmartre, Le Chat Noir."

I freed one of my arms, and reached out to the darkness. I asked, "Help me up." Out of nowhere, an old ghastly looking woman's face appeared. She latched onto my hand. She is babbling about a hunger, and a need for human touch. I heard my dream guide yelling at her. He was threatening her with his child's voice, and yelling at her to let me go. More greedy hands grabbed at me from the darkness. One bent my arm back painfully in an arm lock. My dream guide's voice was yelling warnings to me and to the greedy spirits. I knew this was an illusion, and I was not afraid of the spirits. I stopped the argument by yelling out, "Help me out of bed, and I will let you touch me all you want."

Somewhere during all of this, I woke up multiple times. I was sleeping on a futon unfolded to a bed. While talking and trying to roll over, I remember the futon was upright, like a couch. I was propping myself on my side with the back of the couch to try to see who I was talking to. I then snapped awake, and I was flat on my back with the futon in its real position as a bed.

My memory is hazy, I think from the melatonin. The next thing I remember is being in the guest room in full daylight. I was playing with a young alien looking child or dwarf, and asking him really deep questions about dreaming, life, and death. I can't remember his answers!!!! I do remember we were playing with Transformer toys, and he answered one of my questions by saying to me, "Let me show you..."


The Toy Junkyard

My vision zoomed into the toys we were playing with. Suddenly, I was watching a movie about the Transformer toys on a junkyard planet. They had just landed, and were scouting around for life. They each took on the shape of a ruined machine they found in the junkyard. The villain, Megatron, was a giant plastic T-Rex dinosaur. The good guys were trying to fight him, but they were outmatched. They were exploring the planet trying to find and free other robots to help them in the battle. They ended up finding a Robot Cheetah.

Another Megatron landed on the planet. He was a giant helicopter. He was very cocky, and volunteered to fight the dinosaur version of himself. While they battled, a countdown started to launch missiles out of missile silos. The team of good robots ran to bury themselves in sand bags, hoping it would protect them from the radiation. The Robot Cheetah couldn't find a place to bury himself, so he ran to the missile silos to try and stop the launch. He found the silos empty. The missiles were already launched long ago, and that is why there was no life on this planet. They were all destroyed in a nuclear holocaust. The Cheetah ran at super-robot-speed to all the missile silos on the planet. They were all empty.

The Succubus

After waking to record my dreams, I relaxed back into another WILD. I entered SP again, and heard the door to my room open. I could not turn to see, but I felt a woman enter the room stand next to the bed, right behind my head. She was whispering in my ear seductively. Her voice sounded evil and threatening despite her words. I felt her lie down behind me, and press her lips against the back of my neck, right at the base of my skull. She was pretending to kiss me, but when her lips touched my neck, I felt an intense pain. She latched onto the base of my neck, her lips locked against me, and something sharp pierced my spinal cord. She was sucking out my thoughts and energy.

I was lucid, and not fooled by the dream. My memory is hazy, but I remember turning to embrace her. The dream turned into an unbelievably awesome sex dream, but I don't remember the details!!! I lied in bed for a loooooong time after awakening trying to remember the details, because I don't have many sex dreams. I only remember a general sense of mind blowing sex with several women in every room of my house.

The Bear never stays in one place for long. When his work in one world is complete, he must move to the next. There are too many worlds that need his help. Each world is contained by a translucent shell, and they are strung together like a necklace of pearls. No one knows if the inhabitants of each world can travel to the others. They never try. Each globe contains everything the inhabitants would ever need. The Bear is the only one who has ever traveled between worlds, and for him, travel is an addiction.

He saved my world once. I helped him as much as I could in my old age. I used to be a fierce warrior, and a fearsome fighter pilot. By the time The Bear needed my help, I was too old to offer him anything but friendship and advice. My hair was thin and wiry, and my skin dry and ashy from overexposure to the caustic gasses of the upper atmosphere.

I remember shaking his hand as we said our final goodbyes. His grip felt hot with the energy and vigor of youth. My own bony fingers dug into his strong, muscled hand, It brought back memories of sinking my teeth into a thick cut of roasted meat. No one had eaten meat since the world's energy gave out. The livestock stopped reproducing and the crops died in the fields.

Now that The Bear had set in motion the healing process on our world, I tried to convince him to stay. I told him tales of the beautiful sunsets over the high terraced grasslands. I described the way the great silver blimps shifted the magnetic fields to make the air shimmer with rainbows.

I knew that there was nothing I could do to convince him. He could never be content with peace and beauty. Other worlds would need his help, and he would be drawn to their turmoil like an addict. With all the worlds he would save, I wondered if he would ever stay to see the end result of his healing.

I was in charge of surveying abandoned houses to see if they could be rehabilitated. I was sent to measure the abandoned house in the crater, just outside of town. When I got there with my partner, everything seemed normal. It wasn't until we entered the basement that we angered the Centipedes and the Millipedes. At first, there were only one or two of the small millipedes. They were poisonous, but nothing we couldn't handle. A quick tap of my boot, a satisfying crunch, and they were out of the picture.

After crushing three or four of these fast little twerps, the big Centipedes came out to investigate. They were the size of small dogs, two or three feet long. Their segmented bodies were fuzzy and black. Shiny round red shells lined their backs like a stack of soup bowls. They appeared from the shadows in large groups. They would only approach us one at a time to examine us, then run back into the swarm.

I became more and more nervous, but we were almost finished with our measuring. My partner taunted me, saying "Whats wrong, scared of the little bugs?". I ignored him, kept alert, and finished measuring fast. As we exited the building, the swarm of giant Centipedes followed us up the stairs. They seemed angry now. From the corner of my eye, I saw one charge straight towards me. The thing was faster than I had previously thought. I fled up the stairs and out of the house, only pausing long enough to kick down the dilapidated front door.

I looked back over my shoulder in time to see the Centipede curl up like a spring, and then leap in the air. It landed on my back, and dug its razor sharp armored plates into my upper arm. I felt it squirm around like a snake as it worked its barbs deeper into the meat of my shoulder and upper arm. As I struggled to wrench it of my flesh, I saw more of the miniature Millipedes squirming all over my back. They were all over me, biting and stinging me in a thousand places. I realized that I had been covered in the millipedes the entire time I was in the house. I had only noticed the ones that had fallen off my back and dropped onto the floor.

The night before last, I took Galantamind, and didn't sleep very well. It was a great experience, but I definitely missed some REM periods. I think I had REM rebound last night, because I swear I was dreaming non stop all night. I had several awakenings, but each time I would pass right back into a dream. I was too tired to really worry about being lucid, but I slipped in and out of lucidity anyways.

The Implants
I was on the subway in New York, when I recognized my friend who I haven't seen in a while. I went to say hi, but she was having a hard time recognizing me. I had to tell her several old stories about us together before she even remembered who I was. I thought this strange, because I still talk to her on the phone all the time.

As we were leaving the subway together, I recognized her boyfriend sitting in the front of the train. He didn't seem to recognize either of us. In fact, he was such a zombie, it was like he couldn't even talk. He seemed to be in some sort of a coma. I have dealt with unaware DCs before, so I knew what to do. I put my hand on top of his head, like I was ruffling his hair. I felt a little static shock, and he immediately snapped out of his trance.

I was heading to a shopping mall, but they were catching another train. I waited on the platform with them, chatting. When we said goodbye, I think we all made out together instead of just giving friendly hugs.

I exited the station, and went into giant shopping mall. The place was located in a pretty bad part of town, but the stores inside were all extremely upscale boutiques. It was deserted. Totally empty. I found a lobby area that was decorated like an expensive hotel, with bookshelves, a fireplace, and shiny leather furniture. A homeless woman had set up camp with sleeping bags and a shopping cart. She was delusional in that street-person kind of way. She thought she was on a reality TV show, and was getting paid to eat these huge squirming grubs worms. They were 6 inches long, and she had to eat them in multiple bites like a squirming candy bar. We spoke about the empty mall, and she told me the place had been deserted for months because people were lining up to get their implants.

I kept seeing movement out of the corner of my eye. Finally, I caught a good glimpse of a young 7 year old boy running from store to store hiding. I chased him all over the mall, and eventually came to a dead end at the top of a huge ramp that spiraled up through four stories of shops. The boy was precariously climbing up the rail in the center of the spiral, oblivious to the danger. When he was almost at the top, he slipped and teetered backwards. I planted my feet and lifted my hands. In an instant the whole spiral ramp, shops and all, collapsed upward like a giant spring or slinky. All the storefronts merged into the ones above them, and the ramp collapsed upward to a single story ring with a pond in the middle. The boy fell backwards, and splashed into the pond. I helped him out, and we made our way to an emergency fire exit.

Outside, the city was a shining futuristic utopia. Everything was made of clean shining metal. Ramps and stairways spiraled up to multiple terraces styled with classical details. There were white stone bridges and silver metal arcades. Every building looked like a courthouse or a Greek Temple. The streets were packed with people waiting in huge lines that wound around city blocks, up staircases, and zigzagged back on themselves. It was nuts.

The scale of the city was daunting, so I held the child's hand, and teleported us from terrace to terrace. It really hurt my knees, and at one point the boy said to me, "You better be careful, by the time you're 30, your knees are going to be so ruined you won't be able to walk up stairs, let alone teleport." We walked up and down the lines trying to talk to people. They were all zombified in comas, similar to my friend on the subway. No one would talk to me. I stood in the middle of a courtyard, held my arms out to my sides, and slowly turned in place. The world around me froze like I stopped time. I explained to my new 7 year old friend what the plan was. He ran up and down the lines of people, picking their pockets for ID cards, bank receipts, or scraps of notes that gave some hint of who these people were. I then walked around pressing my palm to the tops of people's heads to zap them and jog their memories of who they were. I woke up several people this way. As I woke them up, they became unfrozen, and gathered in the courtyard.

We became a team of rebels who were investigating the cause of his worldwide phenomenon. I thought it was some sort of alien invasion, but it turned out to be a totalitarian govenrnment plan to implant people and control them. I guess the crazy homeless lady was right. We established a base at the top of an abandoned skyscraper. We gathered the children together in a nursery. There were constant risks of sniper attacks, so we had to be careful around the windows.

The whole adventure took hours, I think I was in and out of lucidity all night. It was really fun. I'll write a few fun parts.

I found a secret passage in an abandoned house that led to a long stairway. I had to pick the lock with a safety pin. It was so easy I became lucid. The stairs led straight down for a mile or more. They led to more underground bunkers and houses. At every level, a gate or door was locked, and I had to pick the lock. The last flight of stairs ran underneath a long banquet table. I could only see people's legs under the table, and hear their voices. There was a secret government meeting going on. I was crawling around under the table trying to understand the conversation and gathering supplies. Of course, my idea of supplies was pokemon video games, socks, and bags of candy. I remember lucidly thinking how amazing it was that my brain was able to create dozens of conversations all at once, and that I could understand them all.

There was an action packed firefight in the desert with these huge burrowing worms the size of buildings. It was like a mix between that old movie 'Dune' and the beginning of the new Transformers movie. The worms looked like the grubs the homeless woman was eating in the beginning of the dream. They were somehow related to the implants in people's brains.

I was making myself invisible and sneaking around a town filled with people. It felt so real, and I could physically feel the invisibility like I was shifting myself out of sync with the world. I could look down on my body, and see myself as translucent.

I was in and out of lucidity, but I had amazing dream control. I could manipulate the whole dreamscape just by thinking about it. I could rearrange buildings and streets. I could change the scale of things, and make the world collapse on itself by changing the focus of my vision. At times, this was all so easy, I just took it for granted and forgot I was even lucid.

Part 1
I was orphaned at a young age, and taken in by a wealthy family in Georgia. The patriarch of the family, Hamilton, always treated me well, but never adopted me as his own son. His money was all old money, family money, and the family politics kept him from ever treating me like a real son. It never bothered me, because he educated me well and taught me to take care of myself so I would never need to rely on any kind of inheritance.

Hamilton's only daughter was getting married, and the wedding was lavish beyond imagining. It was an orgy of food, drinking and dancing that lasted three days. All the big families came in from across the state to celebrate at the mansion . I was working with the kitchen crew to keep the party flooded with booze.

On my rounds refilling the champagne, I could not find Hamilton anywhere. He had been brooding since the party started, so I figured he must be outside. I bundled up in my warmest coat, and stepped out into the cold night to explore the plantation grounds. As I passed by the family mausoleum, I noticed my friend Angela sitting on the old stone ruins. She was dressed in a light summer dress, but the cold wind did not touch it, or move a strand of her unbound hair. I was happy for some company in the cold night, even if it was the company of a ghost. She glided over to meet me, and we talked about the upcoming wedding.

She spoke more honestly than I was used to, sharing family secrets I was not supposed to know. She told me about the cruel history behind the family's money. Money that came from the early days of the slave trade. The money was cursed. As the family's wealth grew, so would its misery. Death and tragedy seemed to plague the family's history, and it would continue until the last generation was destroyed. She called this the prophecy of the moon.

As she finished her story, I heard screams and shouting from the main house. I hurried back, but was too late. The place was no longer a celebration. Somehow, things had turned violent. Two of the most powerful families had started to fight, and the wedding had become a battleground. I heard people yelling about rape and murder as I ran from room to room looking for Hamilton. What I found were the remains of the bride and groom. Hamilton's daughter was on the bed with her dress torn to pieces, and her throat slit. Her future husband was crumpled in a corner with a pistol in his hand, and a knife in his chest.

This was too much for Hamilton. It destroyed what little spirit he had left in him. He spent the following weeks in a drunken stupor. He would not take any visitors, and would barely eat. My fiance and I moved into the house to care for him, but it took a month for him to finally speak with us. He told us he had to get rid of his cursed money. He had a plan to give my fiancee a job that would pay her everything he owned within the first two years. Get the money out of the family. My fiancee refused, saying she could not replace his dead daughter.

That evening, I found him on a hill overlooking the family mausoleum. The spirits looked restless. There were more out than normal, and they were milling around the tombs as if looking for something. As I sat down, they started walking up the hill to meet me. Hamilton opened a box with two curved blue daggers, and handed one to me. As the ghosts approached, Hamilton's dagger began to glow with a soft blue light. Each shade had a dagger, and they came in pairs to touch daggers with Hamilton as if giving a toast. When the finished with him, they surrounded me. They looked at my dull lifeless dagger with sadness. I did not belong. Each shade approached me and touched the point of their knife to my cheek, right below my left eye.

A heavy bass beat started to pound out a rhythm, and the night was suddenly filled with pure white light. The ghosts became solid, and started to dance and celebrate. Hamilton and I were carried along with the music and dance, and soon the hilltop became a beautiful party.

As we danced, the party became more crowded, until I was in a sea of people. Eventually I noticed that I was in a separate room with half a dozen dancing ghosts. It was not that the crowd was getting bigger, it was the room that was getting tighter. I started feeling claustrophobic. The music changed to an evil sounding heavy metal riff, and the white light started to fade to a murky green.

I recognized the feeling of a nightmare approaching, and struggled to fight it. I looked up to see a ceiling covered in sharp spikes, and the room started to slowly rotate. The ghosts around me were now demons, and as the room turned, they started sliding down he walls to be impaled on the spikes. I knew it was a nightmare, so I fought to escape it. I floated off the ground, spread my arms and legs, and started to spin in place sideways, end over end like a cartwheel.

Part 2
I became very disoriented, and suddenly found myself alone in the guest room of my own house. I was still floating in the air, rotating slowly. I turned myself one more time, and paused upside down to take a look under the futon. I was disappointed that there was nothing under it except for a crumpled dark blue jacket.

I shot out the window, splintering the closed wood blinds, and shattering the glass. I found myself over the open ocean at night. I could see the lights of a city skyline, so I flew towards it. As I approached the coast, I searched for buildings I recognized. I saw the Chrysler Building, and figured I must be in New York. I was now close enough to be flying amongst the skyscrapers. I saw the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center, and thought it funny that they were still standing in my dream. Each tower had the graphic outline of a key on the upper right corner.

I wanted to land and find some interesting dream characters to talk to. I decided San Francisco would be a more familiar city to experience at street level, so I started looking for buildings in the San Francisco skyline. I was searching for the Transamerica Building. Instead, I found a strange futuristic stepped pyramid built entirely of glass. I was surprised, and figured I must be in the future. I landed, and was convinced this was the future. The sidewalk looked metallic, and there were broad canals carved between the buildings instead of streets. There were no cars in sight.

I saw an old man crossing a bridge over the nearest canal. I waited for him to approach me. He was carrying a yellow phone book, and reading it like a newspaper. I stopped him as he passed, and asked casually, "Excuse me, you do know that this is a dream, right?" He looked up from his phone book, startled and annoyed and said something along the lines of, "Well, its about time." I asked him another question. "Do you recognize me?" This really made him stop. He looked me in the eyes in a creepy way, smiled and said, "Of course I recognize you. Do you recognize me?" I then recognized him as my future self. Me as an old man. I looked down at my body to see that I was old also. I was wearing the same clothes as him. "You must not have been paying attention to the dream I gave you " he continued. He lifted up his phone book, pointed to the headline and said, "First manned space flight to the moon in 1969. It took 15 years less than their first, unmanned flight. So you figured out a shortcut? Do you think this matters in the long run?"

He then pointed to the bridge he had just crossed. A young man was walking towards us, carrying a white rose and a stack of greeting cards. I thought must be here to meet me. I remembered him as a character from the story in the beginning of the dream. I think he was the character I was playing. As he came near, I started to speak, and was startled as he walked right by me. He handed the rose and the cards to a young woman. I felt sad that I can never be reunited with the characters from the beginning of the dream. They can not recognize me now that I am lucid. I will never see the end of the dream.

Part 1
I was lost in a dense and ancient forest. The trees and plants all looked very realistic, but the way they were arranged was strangely alien. Redwoods dominated the landscape, but they were covered in twisted hanging vines. Tropical grasses and low bamboo formed a dense underbrush, but the air was cool, and the floor was spotted with clumps of thick damp moss. Overall, it was a strange combination of a redwood forest and a tropical jungle. It felt very alive.

I made my way to the center of the forest, and stumbled into a large open clearing. The trees and underbrush stopped in a wide ring, like a wall. The spongy moss continued out to cover the entire clearing like a carpet. Two giant redwood trees stood alone in the center of the clearing. The bases of their trunks were so close, they had begun to fuse together. It was an amazing sight to see these two majestic trees standing alone, but framed with the background of the dense forest. It wasn't until I started walking towards them that I realized their immense scale. I underestimated the size of the trees and the clearing, and had to run to reach the center.

By the time I got to the trees, they were changed. They did not look healthy. I could see gouges in their bark, and blackened diseased sections. I walked around the perimeter of their intertwined trunks, with my hand outstretched to run my fingers against the rough bark. The more I touched them, the more they seemed to be dying. Aggression and anger seeped out of the bark into my fingers, and I started to feel scared.

Before I had made one complete circuit, the fear overcame me, and I turned to leave. I don't remember visuals of what happened next. The scale of everything was too overwhelming to make sense. The trees started to attack me. I ran, and they somehow gave chase without uprooting themselves. It was like they grew in size as I fled. I could feel the vibrations of gigantic footsteps shaking the earth, and I could hear the cracking and groaning of breaking wood, but I could not see. I don't know if I was too scared to look back, or if there was nothing to see.

I fled as fast as I could, but I felt them coming closer. At the edge of the clearing, I saw a metal dumpster full of construction waste. I jumped into it to hide, like a bad action movie.

Part 2
I lived alone in a landfill. It stretched as far as I could see, and I was the caretaker. The landfill provided me with everything I needed. It was not garbage that surrounded me. It was everything I ever wanted. There were piles and piles of my favorite foods, mountains of designer clothes. One pile had every toy I had ever wanted as a child. I was thrilled. It was almost like a game. I would think of something I wanted, or something I wanted as a kid, and it would be right on top of the pile. It was awesome.

I was digging through a pile of packaged, unopened toys, and I uncovered a scaly patch of leather. I dug deeper to see what it was, flinging cardboard boxes and action figures away without even looking to see what they were. When I had exposed a large enough section, it started to move.

It was a giant mouth. It started eating mouthfuls of the junk, helping me clear away the boxes under which it was buried. Soon, the whole face came into view. It had no neck, head, or body, just a face. It was the size of a small car, and could easily swallow me whole. Its mouth took up most of its face, like a cross between a human and a frog. Its gray-blue skin was blistered and scaly.

It was a monster, but not a frightening one. I felt sorry for it, but I knew I had to destroy it. Fire was the only way to kill it, so I ran to find something that would burn. As I ran towards a pile of burning trash, I noticed more of these huge creatures eating their way out of the piles of junk. There were dozens of them that I could see. It was like they were hatching, or breaking their way out of cocoons.

I grabbed an armful of flaming garbage, and threw it at the face I had helped to free. It caught it in its mouth, and instantly went up in flames. It shrieked as it melted, and I felt bad at the human quality of its screams. I wondered if maybe it had the ability to talk.

I was an idiot two nights in a row, so I have to post them here as punishment. Feel free to throw tomatoes at the man in the stocks.

Lucky To Be Alive
I had this brilliant idea to set up my friends Mike and Bella on a date. They would make a crazy hot couple. I remembered this great beach bar near the Kahala on Diamond Head. It would be a perfect romantic spot for these two kids. I made some phone calls and took off to meet them.

I was running late, and speeding dangerously. Driving along the coast, I came around a sharp turn and lost control of my car. I felt the tires lose traction, and I drifted towards the cliff. I was in a complete panic. I had a split second where I saw edge of the cliff drop away below me to the rocky surf. The first thought that went through my mind was, "I'm going to die. This is just like one of my dreams where I lose control of my car, but this time its REAL and I'm going to die! I wish this was a dream, because this is really going to hurt."

I tumbled down the rocky slope. The glass of my windows and windshield shattered against the sharp volcanic rocks. I rolled for what seemed like way too long. I don't have a lot of experiences with driving off cliffs, but I imagine it happens pretty quick. This was just maddening. It got to the point where I was a little bored as I slid and rolled along. By the time I hit the sand, I was just glad to be able to get out of the car. I felt like I had just been on a long boring road trip. I don't have time for these things. Glad to be out of the car, I stretched my legs on the beach, and went to meet Bella at the bar.

Falling Asleep Disturbs my Sleep
I was trying a new WILD technique. I woke up 5 hours into the night with an alarm. I ate a banana, and read some of The Tibetan Yogas of Dream and Sleep for 5 minutes.

I laid back down, trying to enhance the visualizations that my brain was naturally coming up with. I was feeding a scenario of myself in my front yard wrapping duct tape around a concrete bench sculpture. Things were going great. I felt my body get heavy and numb. My consciousness was starting to feel detached from my body. I was staying remarkably lucid while the visualization took shape. I remember thinking, "This should be a great lucid. I'm outside in bright daylight. No sticky body, annoying darkness, or house to be trapped in."

Next thing I know, my mind goes totally blank and I get startled awake by.....the feeling of falling asleep. The shift I normally feel that alerts me that I'm entering a dream was too disturbing. Falling asleep woke me up? No F.A, no entering the dream. Just me totally awake feeling like an idiot.

It felt a lot like when you nod off during a boring lecture or meeting. As soon as you feel yourself fall asleep, you jolt yourself back to reality, 100% awake.

The Ghost Detective
I am a detective in Victorian England. I am investigating the case of a rich woman who can't leave her bed. She believes the bed is haunted, and the spirits bind her to the mattress. At first I believe the woman to be crazy, so I examine her with olde-tyme doctor's equipment. Somehow, I come to learn that the case is not as simple as it seems. I meet the maid who tells me a story of two children who were drowned in the bathtub.

I decide to investigate. I lay down next to the woman on the bed, and induce an Out of Body Experience. I want to communicate with the spirits of the dead children. I enter the spirit world with my OBE, and realize the woman is really a ghost. The children were not killed in the bathtub. The mother went mad, and nearly drowned her twin children to the point of brain damage. She then locked them under her bed and killed herself.

Somehow, the children were half dead. Half in the spirit world. When the mother killed herself, the children trapped her soul halfway between life and death. She could not leave the bed, because she could not leave he place of her attempted suicide. I free the children from their prison under the bed, which restores their minds, and frees the woman's spirit.

The Smell of Cedar
I live in an old run down row house in my childhood hometown. I nostalgically take on the task of restoring it to its former beauty. The contractor wants to do a walkthrough of the landscaping in the back yard. He is tearing out all the overgrown trees to pour a new concrete patio. Like an idiot, I accidentally step in some wet concrete. To repair the damage, I use a large, thick syringe. I pierce the hardened skin of the cement, and draw fresh wet cement out of the center of the slab. I then squirt this into the damaged areas, and smooth it over, good as new.

One of the slabs is too badly damaged, and I volunteer to help re-pour it. I go into the garage to get my concrete sculpture equipment, but it is all entangled in overgrown roots. I end up having to carry a huge tree stump out to the construction site. While I struggle to untangle the roots, the contractor tells me about his plans to cut down all the trees in the yard.

I get an odd feeling, and my sense of smell becomes super heightened. I can smell everything. The wet concrete, the nutty smell of the treeroots. Most of all, I can smell the old trees themselves. They smell absolutely incredible. I walk around the yard smelling all the trees up close. I am intoxicated by the clean pine, the hearty redwood, the sharp cedar. As soon as I get a whiff of the cedar, I become completely lucid. I look around and realize this house is not just a house in my hometown, it is the house I grew up in. I get a flood of my waking memories, and all the nostalgic memories of my childhood empower me. My sense of smell is still heightened, and I reach out through the smells to touch the trees with my mind. I pour all my memories directly into them, and they begin to grow.

Their branches start twisting and reaching. Their roots burst out of the ground. I see freshly poured concrete torn apart by the tree roots. The branches touch the walls of the house, and rip through them like paper. I feel like the trees are part of me. We are connected through their strong earthy aromas. Pushing out with my branches, I feel the man made materials of the house disintegrate under my power. Soon the house is a pile of rubble, and I am reaching out to the sunlight with my wide branches.

I do not want to wake up yet. I know it is a dream, so I want to enjoy the feeling before I lose it. The sunlight strengthens me, and the breeze stretches my trunk like a satisfying morning yawn. I try to remember the powerful scent of all the different wood. I hope that when I wake, I will still have this ability to reach out to the world through my sense of smell.

07.06.2010

Twenty Questions (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I was sitting in a strange daycare for gifted children, and I believe that I was waiting to see my sister perform in a ballet troup. The waiting room was somewhat small, and there were about ten children playing on the floor, and although there were many black chairs around the room, I sat cross-legged on the floor. There was a massive, 7' television on the wall to my left.

On the television was a news broadcast. President Obama was making an odd broadcast with 20 children from different countries. He asked them each a different question. When the child gave an answer that the president didn't like, Obama told him or her that they were wrong. It was strange, and I stopped watching.

It was then time to go watch my sister. On our way to the dance studio we passed a gymnasium where a trombone player was giving a recital. I found it strange that he was playing a Mozart Horn Concerto on trombone, but, since the timbre of the instruments it so similar, I shrugged it off. The dream ended.

Originally Posted by Sean Lennon

05.06.2010

Confusing Music (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I was sitting in an orchestra concert, and the seats surrounding me were filled with family and friends. At the end of the performance, the conductor took the podium again and began asking the audience questions about the performance. I could tell that he was profiling people. The questions he asked and responses he gave were very rude, in a sense that he belittled those who did not know the work as well as he did. It was awkward.

After the interrogation was complete we got up and exited the rows of seats. To the left of us was a banquet buffet. There were ten round tables covered in simple white table cloths. As I walked towards them, I had my eye on a table with some of my friends for college, but they pointed to a table to my right ans said something about someone who wanted to sit with me. It was my band director, Mr. Newton and his wife. I haven't spent much time with him as of late, so it was fine. It was at this point that a few of my music teachers I had prior to college came and spoke to the banquet. They asked us if we thought the questions asked were condescending. We agreed, and that was the end of that.

Cake. I wanted cake. Many of the guests had already had dinner, so the dessert bar was all that was left. I decided to grab a large cupcake and a huge piece of white cake. The were so massive that I could barely hold them, even though I have larger than average hands. Someone offered to help, but I just ate the food in line. I hate sugar. I can't believe I wanted that much dessert.

I needed to wash the icing off, so I went into the restroom to do so. The restroom was built like a long hallway. Stalls on the left and sinks on the right. At the end of the room was a door. I went through the door to another restroom built identically as the last one. I did this a few times until I finally washed my hands. Going back to the banquet meant going back through the bathrooms. The doors I went through were the same, but the second one I passed through let out into the women's restroom. There were puzzled looks on the girls' faces, but no one said anything. I checked the door during my hurried exit to find that it did, indeed, have a women's room sign on it. I made my way through the last bathroom, but stopped halfway to see my girlfriend, Jen. She seemed just as confused as I was. Then I woke up.

Originally Posted by Sean Lennon

04.06.2010

Does Not Compute (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

A dream I had in a nap. It brings my dreams for the day up to one.

I am Lieutenant Commander Data on the starship Enterprise. I am in a lounge sharing a meal with a woman in her late thirties. She wears a standard red Star Fleet uniform. She is meerly picking at her food as she tries to describe her intense attraction to me. I do not understand. My android brain tries to make sense of it, but a comment I make send the woman running away with tears in her eye. I stand confused. Someone takes me gently by the shoulders and says, "Oh, Data, you have so much to learn."

No story is new. No great work of art is an original. Recurring themes in Literature and Art are constantly being recycled through ancestral knowledge. This knowledge is passed through ages, heedless of the constraints of time or space. This is what my Father taught me. My friend and mentor. I miss him terribly. I miss him now, as I hold this pillow to his withered face. As I listen to his dying breaths, and feel him struggle feebly under the white linen.

Long ago, before my Father adopted me as his apprentice and son, he had a wife named Margaret. He would talk of her often. A brilliant woman with a natural talent for storytelling, art, and all things creative. She was a student of my Father, much like myself. My Father told me in secret one day that he never truly had to teach her anything. Her work was inspired by a relentless muse. She would spend days on end locked in her room working on a painting. When it was completed, she would bring it out to display with pride.

The only problem was, each work she would produce would turn out to be a duplicate. A duplicate of a work she had never seen before. My Father, knowing much about art history, would hang her fresh painting on the wall, then bring out a dusty piece of artwork hundreds of years old that matched it exactly. The details would be different, but the forgery was clear. The only problem was, Margaret had never seen it before that moment.

Ashamed and confused about her gift for forgery, Margaret became a recluse. She left my Father to live on a small island in a lake. My Father corresponded with her through letters. Recently, the letters had stopped coming. My Father started to worry, and decided we would take a journey to check up on her. He thought it was time I was introduced to her, and perhaps inspired by her.

Our journey took us through landscapes that all looked familiar to me. I remember them as all famous paintings. Turners, Corots, landscapes from the Hudson River School. Arriving at her island (which looked suspiciously like a Turner), we were greeted roughly by her manservant. I could tell something was upsetting him, and he rudely kept trying to send us away. Upon closer inspection, we noticed that the house looked run down. The servant would not send down a ladder, and scuttled away to hide from us. After much difficulty, we made our way on shore, and docked our small boat.

We were greeted with violence. Out of nowhere, the servant lunged at my Father with a knife. His eyes were wild, and he was babbling nonstop about old stories and mythology. In a panic, I tried to pull the man off of my Father, and wrestle the knife from his hands. He turned his violent attention on me, and we toppled backwards onto the boat. He loomed over me, and I reached behind me to grab something to defend myself with. I grabbed the boat hook, and swung it in his direction right as he fell on me. I felt the hook sink into him, and heard him scream in pain. He stood up, looked at the gore falling out of his belly, and stumbled away. As my Father lifted me out of the boat, we watched the servant helplessly crawl back into the cottage with his entrails dragging behind him. My Father set off for shore to get help while I followed the servant into the dilapidated cottage.

The cottage was worse on the inside. The stench of old decaying death was the first thing I noticed. The stench that could only mean one thing. My fears were answered when I entered the bedroom and found the servant crying over Margaret's bed. In the bed, wrapped in Margaret's night gown, were the remains of what must have once been the poor woman. They were in a badly decomposed state. The servant was clinging to one skeletal hand, and weeping madly. I could tell he was dying fast, and as soon as he began talking, I realized the extent of his senility. While I stayed with him, trying to staunch the bleeding, He told me a fantastic tale. The story of the ghost of Nicholas Twist.

Nicholas Twist is a Muse. He is the messenger who brings ideas to those in need. He is the ghost of the world's oldest ideas and stories. The keeper of all ancestral knowledge and mythology. But he is also a businessman. He does not give ideas away for free. For each new story he brings to you, he takes one of your memories in exchange. For each inspired image he brings you, he takes your memory of a place you have been. This is the way he has been gathering ancestral knowledge throughout history. This is how he collects and transmits stories across continents and across generations.

The man was clearly mad, but this is how he explained his senility. As you grow old, your memories are taken one by one by the ghost of Nicholas Twist. The world grows rich with your inspired work, Nicholas Twist grows fat with your memories, and you are left with nothing. Margaret's servant had felt the touch of Nicholas Twist for too many years. He knew the pain and confusion of senility, and could not bear to see Margaret go through the same thing. So he killed her before Nicholas Twist could get to her. Margaret's life of limitless inspiration would be too much to repay to Nicholas Twist. Killing her was the only way her servant could save her.

I remember this story now, as I stand in my Father's bedroom. I remember all the greatness he gave to me, to Margaret, to the world. It was too much for him too. Nicholas Twist started to make off with his memories long ago. Now, there was nothing left but an empty husk. A vegetable that could not even recognize his own son. I remember the story as I lift the pillow from his slack and lifeless face. As I switch off the light and go downstairs to call the doctor.

I am not so young as I used to be. I make my living selling my ideas to the world, selling my memories to Nicholas Twist. As I lean against the phone trying to remember the doctor's phone number, I wonder how long it will be before Nicholas Twist takes his next victim.

I got the opportunity to design a beach house in an incredible location. The lot fronted on the pacific ocean, and sloped steeply up a hillside. I began by building a low sea wall at the front of the property that contained a private courtyard. I then created a series of small, connected buildings that climbed up the hillside, alternating with shady courtyards. I built the houses island style, with high ceilings, wide shady overhangs, and glass wherever possible.

As I finished landscaping and terracing the remaining hillside into a private garden, I noticed something strange. The hill behind the house had only a thin layer of sandy dirt. Beneath the silt were massive angular stone blocks. They looked ancient, and were covered in carved glyphs and runes. They looked pitted and worn by sea water with a thin fresh layer of sediment deposited on top. I thought about the meaning of this, and realized the only explanation was that the whole hillside must be in the intertidal zone.

Right as I had this thought, a change in the light made me turn around and face the ocean. I looked down on the ocean far below me, and saw the sun reflecting off the water in beautiful hues of gold and purple. It was the start of an incredible sunset, but that was not what caught my attention. The moon was huge. In the sky, it looked 10 times the size of the sun. And it was moving fast. It was rising up from the horizon, and giving off a warm purple glow. It lit up the sky and cast a hazy purple light on the landscape around me.

I realized the moon was not the only thing moving. The ocean was swelling against the horizon, and rising along the seawall. I watched as it overtook the seawall, and poured over the top. The house I had just built was swallowed in a matter of seconds, and the water was coming at me too quickly to avoid. I climbed to the top of a trellis, and looked down to see hundreds of creatures swarming in the water below me. There were sharks the size of whales with jet black skin. Giant squid and octopus tentacles whipping around madly. The head of a sea serpent the size of a city bus shot out of the water, with its long body trailing behind it.

Behind me, water started pouring down the cliffs like a waterfall. It washed the sediment off the stones to reveal their hieroglyphs and runes. The writing started to glow brightly in the moon's light. I had a second to stare in wonder before a gigantic wave crashed over the mountain top. I dove off my perch towards the monster filled ocean below me. The wave caught me from behind, and lifted me even higher into the air. I rode on the crest of the wave as it sped down the mountainside. I saw the monsters in the water far below me twisting and squirming hungrily. I crashed into the mess of tentacles and teeth, knowing I would be ripped apart. The open mouth of a huge black shark sped towards me, and I swam to meet it. I wanted to be swallowed whole, but the rows and rows of twisted teeth frightened me into waking up.

Originally Posted by Sean Lennon

03.06.2010

Filling the Bowl (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I was sitting in my grandparents house, and I heard my grandpa talking about how his next door neighbor always wanted to beat him when it came to cars. Grandpa buys a Nissan 350Z, his neighbor buys a Nissan 380Z. My Grandpa won, though. He bought a yellow 2011 Corvette. It was the most incredible car I had ever seen. The color of the car was intense and incredibly reflective. The car may have been a convertible, because the roof was black. It had a very sleek design, with chrome accents along the doors and paneling. It was then that I realized that it was in the living room. No one seemed to mind.

Someone said that it was time to leave, and I felt that a trip to the bathroom would be a wise idea. Instead of going to the restroom, I found a ceramic bowl in the kitchen, and I decided to use that. The more I relieved myself, the closer I was to the ground, until I was crouched down in a standing fetal position. It just kept going and going. I was filling the large ceramic bowl to the rim. My cousins kept coming up to me to tell me that it was time to leave, but I couldn't leave yet. I wasn't finished. Finally, it was filled to the brim, and I was finished. I was still close to the ground, and it was at this point that my parents walked over and crouched down next to me.

Dad had a video camera, and they both had silly grins on their faces. Mom was talking to me like she would a pet, saying, "Look what you did! Good boy!" I don't know why, but we decided that we needed to take the bowl with us for transport. It was night when we got in the car to drive to I don't know where. At this point, there was a percentage meter above the bowl for how much was in it. The road was bumpy, and whoever was driving was making very sharp turns. The bowl sloshed around, and the percentage dropped to 83%.

When I got out of the the car, I was in Pittsburgh with my friend, Paul. We were outside the church that Andrew preaches in. When I told him that we would be going to the show that his church was having. His response was "Excellent, brother, excellent."

We sat in a room that seemed to be a small theater. It was dark except for the stage. Jen's ex-boyfriend was performing a spoken word act, but I couldn't hear it because someone next to me was talking. I saw Jen stand up a few rows ahead of me and quietly exit the theater. I stood up to follow her, and the dream dissolved.

I don't remember the first half of the dream, or how I became lucid. The furthest back I can remember is walking on a sidewalk in a residential suburban neighborhood, and coming across a group of people sitting on a low stone wall. As I passed, one of them called my name to get my attention. I stopped to say hi, and recognized him as an old friend from 20 years ago. He was thrilled to see me, and shook my hand vigorously. I then recognized the other people with him. They too were long lost acquaintances.

The house down the street was having a great party, so I walked over to check it out. One of my best friends from high school was on the lawn to greet me. We embraced, and he invited me inside. The whole house was filled with people I haven't even thought about in 10 years, 20 years, or more. There were some friends who I knew are now dead, and some friends whose names I couldn't even remember. It was some sort of surprise party just for me.

I was lucid, and felt very sad that this all was not real. It was so emotional to see all these old people again. All these people that used to be meaningful in my life, but are now lost to me. The feelings of loss and regret made me so depressed, I started to cry. Everyone was having such a good time, and I was having such a terrible time. I didn't want to be at this party. I was in the garage, and everyone was yelling greetings to me, hugging me, patting me on the back, and shaking my hand. All I could do was cry, knowing none of this was real.

I wanted to escape, so I pushed everyone away, and flew up to a large storage shelf hanging from the roof. It was full of all my old toys from when I was a kid. This made me even more sad, and I started to become angry at myself for creating all this. Just as my sadness began to turn to anger, I heard my mother's voice in the crowd below. By now, the garage had grown to the size of an airplane hanger. I was a hundred feet or more above the ground.

My mother's voice floated up to me. She was saying, "He's always been like this. Always over-thinks everything. He can't just have fun. What mother could be proud of a child like that? We've only recently felt any love for him at all. You should have seen him when he was a kid...."

I was really angry now, and decided I was through with this dream. I looked down to see water trickling under the closed door below. Just as the crowd started to notice, the door blew off its hinges in a forceful jet of water. High pressure water began spraying into the room from the doorway. People started screaming and pushing to get away. I heard a horrible moaning coming from the wall, then the entire wall gave away, like a dam, to the flood of water. From my vantage point above, I watched the whole building get washed away in a violent flood with everyone in it.

The water level quickly rose to my height, and I felt the strong current pulling at my feet as I struggled to hold on. I heard a roar, and looked up to see a wall of water a hundred feet high rushing towards me. I only now remembered that this was the task of the month. I laughed at the thrilling feeling, and let go of the platform as the wave approached. I felt the swell as I was pulled up to the crest of the tsunami. It was an incredible rush, but I timed it wrong. The wave curled and crashed down on me. I felt my spine snap, and was whipped around under the water, totally disoriented.

I was not afraid, and I did not wake up right away. I laughed in excitement as I was thrown around like a rag doll.