• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. Brakefast in Bed.

      by , 09-17-2014 at 11:30 PM
      This entry narrates one of the most exciting and bizarre lucid-dreams I have had. It began as a very vivid but ordinary dream: I was with a group of people at night, on a beach. I only knew one of them, a friend of mine he was, and they were his friends. We were all around a tall bonfire, maybe there were a dozen of us. I remember clearly seeing all of thier faces, lit with shades of aureolin (potassium cobaltinitrite) and jonquil. Although we were forming a circle, he was the center and I was more “remotely” located.

      He was playing guitar, and some were singing. His guitar shined. I was playing guitar too, for accompaniment, but mine sounded odd. I turned towards it and saw it was completely wrecked. Strings missing or loose, the neck half-broken and hanging from the other strings. More than one hole. The guitar was like a simile of how I was playing it, because I don’t play guitar and I don’t know who asked me to in the dream. You know how logic works over there. Anyway, when I looked back towards the group, they were far away from me. I was sitting in a niche, on a cliff, some 11.0 meters above them.

      Then… I woke up. The dark, chilly and foggy surroundings transformed into a well lit, warm (from the fireplace) and just a bit humid (from the stones) chamber. I was laying in bed, under a couple of puffy, baroquely embroidered quilts. Then I see that my brother’s cat is sleeping here too. He wakes up as I begin to move, I pet him a bit and he takes off. As I am thinking about all this things surrounding me, ¡My friend from the dream appears from under the quilts! (it was a big bed)… and exclaims: “¡Man, you sure know how to travel!”

      ¡I had not waken, I was inside a lucid dream! ¡And (for all I knew) it was a shared one! (would have been my first). I think that moment has been the most exciting in my life.

      I was in a castle, apparently mine, in one of the bedrooms. As I began to investigate, looking around I saw drawings of mine hanging on the walls. They were exquisitely framed, black, blood and gold, rococoan filigree. But these drawings were different from the ones I had done, during highschool, of rock bands I liked like Mötley Crüe and Cinderella. They were made in a much later date, in the future for the dreamer, but in the past regarding the dream’s time. They were like collages, made up from my original drawings, plus more detailed and complex and more beautiful drawings around and over them, photographs of the band members and me having a good time, and signed by everyone. It was such an incomparable feeling.

      We went out into the hall, it was very tall, gothic and with a gorgeous stained glass window at the far end. We bumped into the butler, I didn’t know his name, but he knew mine. He was just about to reach my door bringing us some cocktails. I grabbed mine, I spilled some, and we went back into the room. At this point, I became very excited about the dream that I began to loose lucidity. Suddenly, lots and lots of marbles began pouring out from my underwear.

      This time I woke up for good. It was 4:00 in the morning and I had so much energy that I didn’t even try to go back to sleep. I got up and engaged in some activity. When I saw my friend I told him about the dream but no, it was not a shared dream. Yet.

    2. Fruity Loops

      by , 09-17-2014 at 11:30 PM
      I like to believe (and I believe that beliefs precede ideas) that I am the kind of person that thinks that cyclical time has a lot more advantages than linear time. And it is also much more fun, so maybe that is why this kind of things happen to me once in a while:

      I woke up one morning and there was a very strange, big and I think blue or blue-ish creature sitting on the right side of my bed, the kind you would expect to meet in a mitote, looking at me. I don’t know what I was dreaming before waking but I told him: “Darn, I was having such a nice dream and now I have woken up.” He told me: “You haven’t woken up yet.” I told him: “Yes, look”. So I got up and went to the bathroom. The door is right beside my bed to the left. I got undressed, took a shower, shaved, and got dressed. Doing all of this thinking that I was awake; it felt exactly like it, because I was in a lucid dream, but I hadn’t realized it.

      Then, the split second when I crossed the door leaving the bathroom, I shifted from my body to the (my other) body lying in bed; and for that split second I felt/understood that I was indeed dreaming. But the shock of seeing myself (from the bed) leaving the bathroom when just a moment ago I was getting dressed in it, woke me up. And so I woke up, again, and told the creature: “You were right, I was dreaming”. “You are still dreaming” he said. I said: “No, look”. It really felt that I had waken up, with the previous experience fresh in my memory, and somehow not finding anything strange about the big monster sitting there chatting with me.

      So I got up and went to the bathroom again. Undressed, showered, shaved and got dressed again. Then, just like the first time, the second I got through that door I shifted perspective and felt that I was dreaming about shifting perspective from the body walking out the door to myself lying in bed seeing myself walk through the door. No need to mention the jolt all that excitement provoked that I woke up again.

      This time there was no creature, but everything happened just as before. To make the long story short, it took me 5 loops to realize something eerie was going on and got out of there.

    3. The Factory

      by , 09-17-2014 at 11:30 PM
      This dream was not lucid, but I remember the feeling as if it was. Once (upon a time) I found myself in a setting that resembled the interior of a factory, only that all the colors in this one were all shades of pink and white. The walls and tall roof seemed as if they were made of bubble-gum and cotton-candy. And there was an atmosphere of movement, a feeling of vibration, as if one were watching blood flow from the inside of a vein or artery.

      Here was a production line, and there were a lot of people, just like me, in their workstations, or cublicles, or sculpting tables. The workspaces were placed to the right of a long & endless corridor, and to the left of this corridor was a deep canal. On the other side of the canal another endless corridor and a little further another succession of cubicles. I was working on a medium-sized sculpture of a house, somewhat of a ginger-bread house, except this one was pink. Pink wax, and I was very happy with the progress I had made, because I had never worked with this material in the first place.

      So there I was, working/playing, enjoying my work/game, and the product of it. Now, on the last sentence of the previous paragraph, I wrote in the first place instead of before, for the sake of form, but that stunt should not be allowed to get in the way of meaning. The dream is very sharply defined to waste it with unnecessary risks.

      Ok, so there I was still, looking at my sculpture in progress. At some point during the day, my boss comes around to tell me I have been promoted, and that he is here to take me to my new studio. I barely noticed him, being very much concentrated on my piece of art. I had invested a lot of time working on it, but I was almost finished. I just needed a little more time for the last details, so I told him to wait just a second. The second turned into seconds which turned into minutes, and the minutes into hours, but he stood still all the time, watching me work, without saying a word. The hours turned into a couple of days.

      Finally I was finished. I had made a beautiful little house full of intricate little features. Shiny white brocade window and door fractal frames, persian rose Gaudínian chimneys. Rose, ruby and amaranth flower boxes. A fuchsia doorbell button. etc.

      My boss, which seemed completely awake all the time, came out of some kind of stupor, as if he had been in sleep mode, and when I announced that I was ready, he retook the conversation where he had left it. He congratulated me for the promotion and told me to get ready to move to the new studio. He then took the little (medium) pink and white wax ginger-bread rococoan house and tossed it into the canal. I had never before bothered to look at what was the deal with that canal.

      It was a river of molten pink wax flowing perennially forward.

    4. The Artist's Atelier

      by , 09-17-2014 at 11:26 PM
      This dream begun with me arriving at the studio/loft/gallery apartment of an artist I met in one of my trips. Life had given him a couple of low blows and he was a very angry man, much in contrast with his sensibility and his desire for inner peace. He was always almost getting into a fistfight. Watching this guy’s smile one moment and then explode and be ready rip someone’s heart out the next taught me a thing or 2 about polar opposites. Anyway, it had been a long time since we last met and it saddened me to see that he was still suffering, even with his very apparent success.

      The place was alive. You approached it through a hilly road, and at one point one could see the 3 floors of the glass building bustling with activity. I went directly to the roof. While I was climbing the last flight of stairs I saw to my left some people dressed like buddhist monks jumping up and down the large steps of a small pyramid. They jumped and from one step to the next they flipped 180º, landing on their feet first, then on their heads, back on their feet, heads, etc. They seemed very happy doing that.

      When I got to the roof I just catched a glimpse of him. He was running off and just said “hi” on his way out. I didn’t know anyone else so I just went and sat on a bench. There was a little girl sitting on the other side. I asked her what she was doing there and suddenly all the mood of All the place changed. It became literally uncanny. She changed. Got very pale, but blushed. She became embarassed when she answered that she was there to “bother” people. To annoy and nag them. Then she left.

      I turned around and saw a fat man that had all the same “vampire-esque” condition. I said to him, because this was one of my first lucid dreams, and the more I was having, the closer together they were arriving. I said: “Wow, these (lucid dreams) are happening faster and faster.” To that he answered, with a very resigned (for a vampire) and gloomy face, that for him already all had arrived (also faster and faster), and so he had reached the End. Just as he said that, I heard the scariest roar I could have ever imagined happening. Something that could only have come out of a very high hierarchy demon. I’m not even going to search Google for a name. Imagine the Betelgeuse of demons. And it sounded like he was right there just behind me. From the scare I instantly opened my eyes and found myself in my bed looking at the ceiling.

      The roar was an old bus driving outside on the street. If that’s the way things work out in dreams then I’m all for it. But one time I was dreaming that some very bad monsters were chasing me and as I was running away from them I entered a nave of a building full of strange, sharp and pointy machines while all the while the sun was setting so it was getting darker and darker and I could see less and less until everything went black and I just kept trying to move forward for a bit until the dream ended just like those where you die in them. Which are the ones I like the most by the way.