• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

    View RSS Feed

    Recent DJ Posts

    1. A little something.

      by , 08-31-2014 at 04:48 PM (Lucid Time!)
      Well college orientation was a doozy. I didn't recall any dreams last night, and I'm at the dorm now. From the looks of it, my roommate is quiet and we agreed on a 10:00 quiet time. I don't have to get out of bed for anything until 7:00 on the worst days. So lucid dreaming here at college should not be a problem.

      I just recall that I was in a semi-lucid state last night, and I think Manei was there.

      Here is something a bit more substantial from yesterday.

      Anyways, I do recall a dream about C. (Not surprising since I spent so much time with her the day before I left). We were talking about a shared dream we had involving a flying castle. And we were both sketching pictures that compared the castle we had each seen in our dreams. The sketches were what I recalled most about the dream.
      My drawing actually looked rather poor quality. It looked like a drawing that I would have done in perhaps late elementary or early middle school and it showed with (albiet poor) perspective the castle. It was low and flat and had large rocket motors. The walls had no detail and is was hovering above a tropical beach. There was a small tower in the middle with low, flat windows.
      C's drawing was considerably better. It showed the castle at night, hovering above a deciduous forest. Her castle was beautifuly detailed, and much taller and more compact than mine, about a 1-1 ratio of width and height. But the thing I remember most about her drawing was something I didn't 'remember' dreaming about. It was a guardian of the castle. A small robot with a walnut-shaped body. It had dark conduits running around its body with small light spots on them. Six legs emerged from slots under the body supporting it.
      I tell her that I really like the robot and wanted her to draw me a full-size rendition of just the robot; without the castle.

      Updated 09-02-2014 at 05:25 PM by 53527

    2. I'm PREGNANT!! + Come Hither Woman, Pinnacle of Perfection Tennis...AGAIN!

      by , 11-17-2012 at 09:29 AM (Linkzelda's Dream Journal)
      I'M PREGNANT LOL (Non-lucid)


      16 and PREGNANT, OMgz0rs LOLzzz BABY SHOWER!

      Okay, I'm lined up with my arms bracing against a female to the left of me, and there's probably 2-3 more females lined up just like that.

      There's some random man walking around in a jacket. I had a color of red on the shoulder region, white in the middle, and red for the rest of the jacket.

      It's hard to remember if he has it unzipped or zipped. And the women in line with the profile view of our faces parallel to what we're looking forward at, the glass windows far away from us, seem to be wearing red and white clothes too.

      I look down, and my stomach is huge...HUGE. I look at the women to my left, and they're stomachs are huge, which is disproportionate to their actual body composition, which leads me to the assumption that they're pregnant.

      Then I look at my stomach and theirs, and it's about the same radium, same surface area, same whatever you want to call it....I'm PREGNANT.

      I'm pretty sure I don't feel like I have a vagina, so................

      I wonder how things are going to come out!!! I rub mah belly, yes, "mah," and I swear I could feel something kicking. Oh shit.

      OH SHIT. No water didn't break, thank goodness.


      This was taken from a site that I had here, but now it disappeared for some reason EDIT: Never mind, here it is:


      A man who dreams of being pregnant himself is often in a situation where his virility or creative participation in the world is in question.

      This occurs most among men who see themselves as less creative than they would like to be.

      The dream serves as a form of compensation to illuminate the more creative facets of their personality.

      Men who are pregnant do not give birth exclusively to children, but a wide range of objects that somehow support their mission in the world.
      The first thing that pops up is that it's associated with me trying to tulpaforge, or maybe how I go about drawing. Maybe I feel like I can't be creative enough, I don't know. You see, just like the interpretation implies, my creativie participation in the world is in question, but I think it's just a question within myslef?


      But if you are not actually pregnant in waking life, or even if you are a man dreaming this, is it usually about a new area of your potential or personality developing; a deepening relationship with your potential is producing a new area of experience, a new talent or facet of your personality. If it is still unborn – i.e. not yet expressed outwardly – it is developing. It can also be shown in the drama of the dream, how you are bringing to birth a new scheme or creative idea is ‘hatching’.
      With this one, I really think it could be related to tulpaforging, making a slight dissociation, making an extra limb in your body that you are aware of that's extended. I hope this is the case, because I don't see much of myself being extended, even though the tulpa is an extension of myself.

      Does that make any sense? Hahahah
      Come Hither Woman (Non-lucid)


      So there's this blonde female wearing a black shirt and regular blue jeans that I presume is my U.S. History teacher, but she's nowhere close to any of them in waking life.

      She looks like she's in her 30s, and she looks pretty attractive without any makeup on. I think she announces some kind of project we had to do, and what would be considered artistic for extra points.

      I was a picture of a man in a red military uniform, probably the British redcoats, and he was wearing Khaki pants. He has one foot on top of a rock that's ideal for a foot pedestal. It's curved upwards, and then makes a downward curve, almost like a mini-uphill cliff.

      I believe he's holding a red flag, and it's very enticing, despite its bland shading here and there. It was shiny in a few areas as well. The man is standing proud, your classic stereotypical manifestation of the ideal patriot.

      Then after she was done announcing, I wanted to talk to her SO bad. After seeing the drawing, I wanted to show her some traditional drawings I did in waking life with a pencil. So I somehow find the same blue folder where I store most of my traditional media graphie portraits of people I drew in waking life, and waited for her to get near my area.

      She was about 10 feet or so away from me, and I alerted her to come next to me. She comes slowly, and then I have to motion my "Come here" finger to her, and she gets really close to me. She has her hands on her thighs, and her spine is bending down so she can move her face close to my face, so that she can hear me.

      I don't know why I wanted to speak privately to her, but has I'm opening the folder, I take out one drawing, the first being this one I did:

      Spoiler for A little big:

      As I'm taking it out, I turned to her quickly, and told her she should keep her voice down if she'll offer any advice on whatever it is that I'm asking her to do.

      I even put my index finger close to my mouth, and I feel I'm showing her this to get an ego boost or something, and to see if she would give me a response if I could get extra credit for the high example of an acceptable drawing she put up with the patriotic soldier from before.

      She tells me that they look good, and as long as I can fix a few things, I should be fine. I showed her this drawing I did at some point as well:

      Spoiler for Another big one:

      Pinnacle of Perfection Tennis...AGAIN (Non-lucid)


      There's this really short anime boy who looks like he's 5-8 years who is wearing a black cap, white dress shirt, and black shorts. He asks this anime girl, who looks like she's 16 years of age or so to play some tennis with her.

      I had the feeling this girl was a REALLY good tennis player. She's wearing the usual Asian school outfit you would have engrained in your mind, white blouse shirt with a red tie in the middle, along with the insanely short black skirt.

      She was playing the boy for a decent amount of time surprisingly, and I was shocked at how patient she was playing with him, because the boy had no skill at all.

      Looking from the back of of the girl, I could see how she sees playing the boy. She can see all his weak points, and they're indicated on the green tennis courts with white arrows going one direction.

      I assume these direction arrows were places she can hit the ball to. It all seems like this is a waste of her time, UNTIL the little boy suddenly unlocks Pinnacle of Perfection from Prince of Tennis.

      Pinnacle of Perfection, in a nutshell, is the final gate where you have the assurance that you have fun playing tennis, and aren't worried about winning or losing.

      Each ground-stroke the boy takes, they get more powerful, each grunt of him performing a backhand or forehand is replaced sighs of joy, them giggling, then laughing, he is having fun. His footwork augments tremendously, and he's so fast, I can't even catch up to him looking at the side view of the tennis court.

      There's a big SWOOOOOOOSH, and he's gone. Then in a split second, he appears on right in front of the girl who is at net-play area now. He's floating in the air, and he slams the ball with immense force that it makes a white smoke.

      I can't recall much from here, but I can assume the little guy owned the girl in a tennis match.

      Updated 11-17-2012 at 09:44 AM by 47756

      non-lucid , memorable
    3. Clyde Machine's Dream Journal

      by , 06-17-2010 at 10:53 PM
      98: 5.18.10; 12:15PM Part 6: Clyde's Art on Public Display. (Non-lucid)


      I was outside the local mall with my little sister Emily when she handed a piece of folded paper I'd sworn I'd seen before in a dream. I tried to chase her down to tell her so, but found a couple of men arguing, which I figured was a welcome opportunity to intervene and put an end to the argument. I found a giant coloured drawing of a flying bird hanging from the side of a building, and when I approached it I identified it as one of my own works.
      Tags: artwork, emily
    4. Marriage to a con man

      by , 09-27-2008 at 05:00 AM (Visions in the Dark)
      (There is a "trigger warning" on the content of this dream.)

      It is the mid or late eighteen hundreds. I live on the edge of a crowded city in grey brick house at the end of an small street or alleyway where there is a laundry pool, beyond which is a forest. In the dream I am an only child and live with my mother and a few of her friends. We are not wealthy but have enough to live comfortably.

      There are several men courting me. The first man is someone I have never met, which was set up by my mother and her friends. I am not comfortable with the arrangement, even though he is an established doctor, because I will not be able to meet him until the wedding. I know nothing of what he is like, let alone what he looks like. I have not said no to the proposal, but I have not said yes either, and I try to stall my answer as long as possible. The second man is homeless and in rags with scraggly hair and beard and unkept hair, but I talk with him by the laundry pool and he is very kind. Everyone opposes interaction with him and "polite society" all but shuns him.

      The third man appears on day when I am in the forest on the otherside of the laundry pool, sitting on a tree stump, reading my tarot cards. He comes and sits on a tree stump behind me and strikes up a conversation. He is handsome though I thought he had a kind of shifty look to him. The man's manner of speaking is very well, he is suave and magnetic and I find myself beoming drawn to him. While we are sitting and talking I pull either the Six of Cups or Six of Swords from my tarot deck (I cannot remember which) and say that is the card which represents him. The man scoffs dismissively, not believing in such trivalities as tarot cards, but also not disturbed that I do.

      The man asks me to marry him and I say yes. I take him home to meet my mother, who is not enthralled at first but is quickly charmed by my new fiance. There is something about him that makes me uneasy, but I figure that I can't do much better with anyone else so I ignore my nagging doubts. He is eager to move in with mother and I. He has little in the way of worly possessions and it is clear to me from the onset that he is the one to benefit from this union financially much more than I. I am overcome with the dreadful thought that he is interested in me only for my money.

      A week passes and the day of the wedding comes and takes place in a clearing in the forest beyond the laundry pool. The other residents of our household vacate for the night so that my new husband and I will have the place to ourselves. Almost immediately he takes me into his room and strips off my wedding dress. I am afraid and trembling because I have no idea what is about to happen. He roughly pushes me onto the bed and climbs on top of me, not bothering to remove any of this clothes, not even his shoes. He begins having sex with me but I am uncomfortable and in pain but he ignores my protests and continues until he is completely spent. As soon as he is done he climbs off of me, pulls up his pants and demands that I return to my own room. His tone is cold and flat and he does not even look at me as I leave his room, very unlike the warm, magnetic man who initially drew me in.

      I am in my room on the second floor of the house, laying on the bed and looking up at a dream catcher in the window that is made with pink beads and white feathers onto which I have apparently stuck a tarot card. I cannot identify the card but I stare at it for a while. I don't know how much time passes but my feelings of being used and violated prevent me from falling asleep. I am just drifting off to sleep when I hear a door slam downstairs. Putting on a robe and going downstairs I find all of my valuables gone. I rush to the window and see my husband climbing into a horse-drawn wagon which has all of my possessions in the back. He sees my shocked and horrified face in the window and arrogantly laughs and waves as he drives away. His mocking is the last I can bear it and I collapse to the floor admist tears and despair.

      My mother and her friends return and learned what happened and we are all infuriated but can do nothing, since we do not know where my husband has gone and cannot do anything anyway, since all of my worldly possessions become the property of the man upon marriage (an actual 19th century law). To avoid utter poverty I am now forced to accept the first man my mother arranged for me, the established doctor who I have not yet met. It turns out that he is more than twice my age and has children from a previous marriage, some of whom are actually older than I. We do not tell him that I was just married and robbed of all my possessions.

      The marriage date is set and while everyone else scurries around making preperations or caught up in the excitement of the coming union, I feel shamed, betrayed and depressed. I resolve to drown myself in the laundry pool so one morning I sneak out of the house just after dawn. I am surprised to discover some of my stolen possessions sitting on a wooden deck next to the laundry pool. The objects where peices of pottery and soapstone carvings, some of which I have actually made in in real life, though in the dream I merely recognized them as possessions and not peices of art that I made. One particular peice that stood out was a small White Tara carved in soapstone and placed on a tree stump in the middle of the laundry pool. There were also some roughly carved faces and my pack of tarot cards wrapped in green silk.

      My mother comes up behind me as I am looking at these things and is just as perplexed as I as to why some of my things have been returned. I tell her that I believe that my con-man first husband is mocking me from afar and only returned the things that he could not sell and would thus be worthless to him. I also believe though that it is an ironic twist of fate that the things he considered worthless are the things most treasured by me because of their sentimental value. The dream ends there.

      Updated 08-21-2011 at 09:51 AM by 6048