non-lucid

8-18-11

D2 or D3, not sure.

I don't remember how this one started. I think I had been at some sort of camp. Or maybe a park.
In either case, a bunch of guys from my high school and I were at this giant, metal playplace. Giant as in 80 feet tall and 30 feet on a side, if not more. All of us had instruments except me, who sang as everyone else played a Petra song. (It was either "Sight Unseen", "Hey World", or "Dead Re coning". I'm pretty sure it was "Dead Reckoning".
I remember clearly a certain instrument that my friend Sabin was carrying. He had a bass guitar with two necks, but they came out of the body of the guitar at a 90-degree angle from each other. The second-to-lowest string post (or whatever you call where the string holds on to the body) had two strings coming out, one for each neck, and the rest of the strings had their own grounding to the body for each neck.
I remember that we had previously done a different Petra song on a different giant metal playplace of sorts, but I have no distinct recollection of that. Before THAT, we had been at some sort of camp house nearby.

A really cool thing I remember doing in my dream happened when we were all at the top of the structure. I wanted to beat the rest of the 'band' back down to ground level, so I test-jumped off the top level (again, where we were), landed, looked back, rewinded the dream so that I was back on top with the 'band', and told the other guys that I would beat them if we raced back down. Then I jumped again.

Somehow, they almost beat me back down anyways, and I'm pretty sure Chris had a tuba. Or a Sousaphone. And Jordan had a drumset. (I have no clue how.)

I might add that, while I do sing like nobody's business, Sabin doesn't play bass, Jordan doesn't play drums, and Chris most certainly does NOT play tuba.

I don't even remember when the dream ended.

6-27-11
Midday nap. As usual for one, it's weird.

I was talking to my mom and dad about the coffee maker that a friend of mine had given me for a graduation gift, and how it was way more advanced than I could care to use.
This is, in reality, true. I had been given a coffee maker, and, indeed, it had more than and on/off switch, so I knew right away that it had more functions than I needed.
After this dream, I went and did exactly the same thing as in the dream. Weird, huh?

Not sure quite when this happened.

One dream:

I was at Cornerstone Music festival and had been talking to some guys in a tent. It was night. I left the tent and crossed the road to the tent across from the one I had been in because I hear some interesting music coming from there.
When I entered the tent, the first thing I noticed was that the place was packed. There were lamps somewhere giving off a dull, orange light that didn’t flicker, but sort of waved. There were two drumsets set up, one at the corner across from me, and another diagonal. The second was being played, lightly, to accompany a guy who was playing the mandolin better than I’d ever see someone do.
And that was it.

6-25-11
Firm first-person perspective

D (only dream)
I’m driving down the street of a European-style city in my mom’s Chevy Aveo. The street is made of red bricks, the side walk is made of red bricks, the 3-and-a-half-story houses are made of red bricks, even the lamp-posts look like they’re made of red brick. The roofs aren’t. They’re Chinese-style.
At some point, I switch to driving on the (very) wide sidewalk, and continue to do so until I come to a barrier in the middle of it. The road keeps going and curves off to the right, but the sidewalk beyond the barrier slopes down for a couple hundred feet before dropping off into a mist.
I exit the car, which now also looks a little like it’s made of brick, and look to the left of the car. There is a gap in the houses 15 to 20 feet wide with a pipe railing going along it. Past the rail, the whole city is lower by 20 or 30 feet, so that the (two-story) houses’ roofs are a little lower than the sidewalk I’m on.
I vault over the rail onto the rooftop of the first house. It’s a long roof, so I run along it, passing two small gables jutting out along the way. The Roof turns right, and I stop, facing a one-window gable. Opening the window (how the heck did I do that?), I enter the building.
It’s a sort of antique shop, or pawn shop. More likely a pawn shop, but lots of the things are old, and it’s pretty neat for a pawn shop. I look around for a minute (I don’t remember what’s there), and then wander downstairs.
When I get downstairs, I run into (not literally) the owner of the shop and a 13-ish-looking girl. They’re both dressed in 1800’s-style clothing, and the owner, and old man, looks like the old guy in “Pinocchio”. He says something to the effect of “I guess I must have not seen you when I locked up the place.” but, as usually happens in my dreams, he says so in considerably fewer words. The creepy thing about him is that, after I agreed with him, he looked at me like he knew I had broken in. Go figure.
In the end, I leave and am just closing the door (I’m on ground level), when the dream ended. Or at least my memory of the dream ends.

June 20, 2011
Unshifting first person perspective


Lots of earlier dreams I don't remember.

Compass directions are abbreviated and in parentheses.
Location details:
Some places there's snow, and some places there's grass.
I'm standing on an asphalt road of sorts. Behind me (e), it dips down and a little south and becomes a parking lot in front of a recreation center. To the left (s), it becomes a gravel road with a chain-link fence on its right (w) side. On the other side of the fence is a field of some sort of short, green plant. Maybe alfalfa.
In front of me (w), the road goes off into the distance. On its right (n) side is a rise, on which is a cottage. On the left (s) side is a pavilion about 20x20 and 30 feet away. Next to that is another chain-link fence running east to west with a pipeline behind it. Next to that is ANOTHER chain link fence, which meets the one running along the road to my left (s) at the corner of the field.
The Subaru dad drove us here in (apparently) is parked by the pavilion.

I walk over between the two east-to-west fences and notice that the snow around the pipeline is packed down hard by innumerable footprints. Not bootprints, but footprints. This startles me for a minute, yet somehow I know that the footprints come from a boyscout hike. My dad (where did he come from?) walks over to me and say "You know they" and used some term I can't recall to say that the boy scouts hiked in the snow nude to build resistance or something.
'Whatever' I thought to myself.
We walk/run along the north fence and around the pavilion, and when we get back on the road, it's night. Dad goes over to where he parked the car and can't find it for a minute because it's now buried under a snow drift, even though the road doesn't have a spot of snow on it. As he's brushing it off, RD, a friend from 5th grade, rushes past me, down the hill, and into the rec center. I call to her as she's running, but she can't hear me. Dad comes back over and asks if that was RD, and I confirm that. He wonders (as I do) why she is there (and I didn't do an RC), until she comes back out of the building, walking quickly. I call out to her, and this time she notices me and stops. I ask if I can come with her, and she considers it, but I wake up before she can answer.

6-6-11

D1:

[I don’t remember. Sorry!]


D2:
An extensive dream, of which I remember almost nothing.

My, my brother, and my parents were all at some old guy’s house. The house itself I don’t remember very well, though I get the feeling it was a ranch-style house.
The old guy was… well… an old guy. With an old wife. And an old dog. (I think)
Anyways, the only scene I remember really wasn’t a scene, since all I did in it was explore this one room in, or rather, adjacent to the house.
The room was more of a shed, like a Morton Building, and the walls were corrugated sheet metal. The floor and foundation was concrete, and the north and south edges of the floor were raised about four feet for four feet of depth. Kind of like a counter going along the side walls. The south Edge was also raised, but only about a foot or two. (This was the wall that had the door to the house.)
The room (it was a workshop) measured roughly 30’ by 40’ and had various tools, implements, and, more than everything else, paint cans cluttering the concrete ledges on the north and south. The east wall had a large garage door like you’d see in a fire station set in it, and, though I couldn’t see through the higher-up windows, I somehow knew that there was a desert outside it. This probably comes from visits I had at my grandpa’s house in the Mojave Desert in southern California. Odd that I’d have it in a dream, since he died six-or-so years ago.
The ceiling on the south two-thirds of this room, the shop, was a ten-foot ceiling and black. It was such a tone of black that, since I wasn’t paying much attention to it, I don’t remember any details about it. On the northern one-third, the ceiling was the shallow-gabled roof of a Morton Building.
In the dream, my perspective was by to the east wall, next to the raise in the concrete. At that point in the clutter, there was a space made in all the paint cans and a blanket, sleeping bag, and pillow were set out. They were an alternative bed to the main focus of the room: the hanging box.
The hanging box, as I dubbed it when I woke up, was just that: a hanging box. It was about the size of a large house refrigerator box, but made of wood and covered in either carpet or Astroturf. It was suspended from the ceiling by a 1/4"-link chain (though, since it was in the south side of the shop, I couldn’t see how it was affixed to the ceiling), and it had a wooden stepladder leading up to the west rim of it. I’d say the bottom of the box was five feet off the floor.
The really weird thin g about the box is that it was where the old guy slept. Therefore, in my dream-world of that night, the old man would have to nightly ascend the stepladder and get in his ‘box’ to go to bed. And the makeshift bed on the east wall apparently wasn’t an alternative, because I was supposed to sleep there.



Well, there you go. One more overly-detailed dream retelling. Just like Victor Hugh and highschool: Too many details, not enough plot.

I just took a ten-minute nap and had a dream in which I had posted on Facebook that I had a short dream and people were commenting on it, I think one even denied that I had a dream, saying that I was dreaming.
Umm..... Whhhaaaaaa...?????

[This was lost in the server crash ]

May 31, 2011

D1: Lame "Heavy Metal Thunder" Cover
D2: [Limey, cut]
D3: Remmaried from M to Laina
D4: Knights challenge the household, and I think 'steampunk'
Wake during, half-asleep for the latter half of.



D1
Second Person: I think and perceive as myself, but can see me directly in front of my vantage point. I=you

'You' [Elliot] are at a small concert with about forty people in the audience.
The stage is also relatively small, canopied, and has been constructed on some sort of blacktop or parking lot. You can't see it but somehow you know that there is either a strip-mall or Casa Bonita [I had recently been there] behind it.
Onstage is a four-piece rock band, and they are doing a watered-down version of Messiah Prophet's "Heavy Metal Thunder". In all honesty, you don't think they're doing a very good cover, and the middle-aged guy next to you concurs with the statement that they aren't any good at all. You sigh with consideration and defend the music in saying that it's metal-ish enough, mainly because you're just happy to hear it being played at all.

The total detail wasn't very deep (think "Waking Life" level of clarity), and I could tell while dreaming that this dreamworld/dreamset was particularly small. A couple hundred feet left and right, a hundred behind, and no further than the building behind the stage forward.



D2
[Because of limey content (I'm a guy, deal with it), I'm not posting this one. Really, I'm hoping to just forget it.]



D3
Third Person

The gist of this dream is that I had been married to M (name withheld 'cause she might be joining DV), but she had died, and, for whatever reason (not clear within the dream), I was to marry this other person I know. Let's call her Elizabeth.
Probably the oddest thing about the whole dream was that nobody, even Liz and I, cared about the fact that she something like twenty-five and I'm seventeen. Actually, I'm pretty sure I was younger in this dream, about fifteen. Either way, the thing that had me tied up in knots was whether or not I could really love Liz. In the dream, as in real life, I don't know her really well, though we get along quite well.
I can recall that at this point (if you can call it that) in the dream, I am in a church classroom of sorts, modern, and furnished, and I'm sitting in a chair near one end of the room, agonizing over whether or not to go through with the wedding. It's set for a few days out, at this point.
I'm finally able to resolve the dream when my father comes in and asks me a question regarding my commitment. I can't quite remember the exact phrasing (and, boy, do I wish I could!), but the effect of his short question was, "Are you willing to work hard to make your love to Liz grow and mature to what it needs to be in marriage?". Except he somehow was able to say all that in about five words. Just like he does in real life.
Either way, when I considered that, I was able to finally realize that, yes, I could do that. I said as much in reply to dad's question, he smiled and left the room, and that was the end of the dream.


D4
First person

This whole dream, because of the intricacy of it, is a bit fuzzy as to what I’m doing in it sometimes.
I’m at my house and the setting is kind of weird. It’s like my grad party (sort of), but there is a light on the horizon both to the west and to the east, as if it was dawn and dusk at the same time.
I’m running around with a friend (no clue who), playing something like tag, when we run into the front yard (it’s on the east side of the house), and stop where we are. In front of us, about a hundred-or-more feet away, are knights, I’m not sure exactly how many, I think six of them. Off to their right, my left, riding astride with the group but about fifteen feet away is another. They all are decked out in crusader-style armor, black, with dull trim on some suits, and their visors are down. The right (my perspective) knight of the center two has more frills than the others. He has red ribbon trim on his horse, and his visor has four vertical slits, unlike the two horizontal ones on the other knights. He was also the only one with a lance, and there was a banner flying from the tip of it (he had it upright), though the knight off to the north had a pole and banner.
Let me say at this point that I live about eight miles from town, and on the other side of the gravel road that passes by our front lawn is nothing but a field. To the north (left from my current perspective in the dream) is a woods, and off to the right (south) is another house we rent out (called the white house, ‘cause it’s white) and the driveway.
Like so: /\
E
<N+S>
W
\/
The road
================================================== =================
TTTTT ||
TTTTT ||
TTTTT Front Yard ||
TTTTT ||
TTTTT _____________ ______________ ||
TTTTT |My House | | White | ||
TTTTT | | | House | || <Driveway
TTTTT | | | | ||
TTTTT | _________| | ___________| ||
TTTTT | | |_| ||
TTTTT | |_____ //
TTTTT | | //
TTTTT | Garage |================================//
TTTTT |________|

Anyways, the knights ride up to within twenty feet of the house, and the leading knight speaks, challenging the household to fend off his troop of knights, implying that he has many, many more knights than the five-and-one with which he’s riding. They turn and ride off.
The funny thing is, I can remember what his voice sounded like, but not his exact wording. Hmm.
I run over to the front porch, looking for something to retaliate against the knights-to-come with and notice what I think is a box of fireworks. When I go to it, though, it turns out to be just some empty packing boxes. The idea stays with me, however, and I tell myself that I’ll need to run into town to get a bunch of them to shoot at the knights. Yep, that’s right. My though process said “Get fireworks to shoot at the knights” and didn’t even think to use them to spook the horses. I didn’t even think of using the two-dozen-plus guns we have laying around. (And the 30-30 would have been effective, too.)
I’m thinking along those lines as I run back to get a car when the idea of charging at the knights with the various vehicles we have around here pops into my head. I like that idea, and, deciding to work out that plan, say aloud to myself “Yeah, I’ll be a steampunk!”
The only reason I can think of now for me considering myself a steampunk for this plan is because it involved cars and gunpowder (fireworks), not computers. Go figure.

I wake up, mostly, at this point as I’m running back to the garage to get a car. I let (of kind of make) myself fall back asleep, and the scenario slowly starts to formulate again.

I’m still standing where I had stopped running to declare myself a steampunk and I take off running again. When I get to the garage, it’s loaded full of vehicles we have had in the past. Sandwiched in between them all, and at a rather odd angle, is the Subaru dad used to drive to work. I get in and somehow get it out of the garage with ease. As I’m driving it around to get it positioned at the front yard, I notice that it’s almost stalled multiple times in the short time I’ve been driving it. The clutch and tranny also seem to be terribly sluggish, and suddenly I realize that I must be driving the old Subaru we used to have that looks exactly like the other one. (Not a dream warping of memory/reality, we really did have two identical Subaru Impresas.)
I park the car between the two houses and my brother (Et) comes up to the window (I had rolled it down, I think) and told me basically what I had just figured out. I get out and start to go to get the other Subaru, but Et says he’ll get it for me and says he has something to show me.
We go to the inside exterior corner of the white house and he shows me how, at the bottom of the drainpipe of the rain gutter there is smoke or smog or fog coming out of it. He tells me that he’s set up an engine on the roof to make the smoke, and I really like the idea.
Somehow it didn’t occur to me that the drain was on the wrong side of the house.
At this point, I turned to walk to the front lawn, but I was effectively awake by the time I got there.



Yes, that's a pretty wacky bunch of plots for the first set of dreams I've had in over a year, but hey. I guess I'm just unique.