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Morning of June 1, 1998. Monday.

Reading time: 1 min 52 sec. Readability score: 52.



Deliberately stepping into the dream space, I find it is a comfortably dark room that has walls, floor, and ceiling of gray stone. I am unaware of the presence of a door or doorway.

What I first think is an Egyptian sarcophagus is present in the center of the room. It is mainly rectangular and lacking detail. In semi-lucidity, I realize it is a representation of the fact that I am asleep in bed.

Moving closer, I see that the lid of the sarcophagus is like a stained glass window of a Christian church, although it portrays an unknown British king rather than a religious scene, the imagery of which resembles the king of diamonds in a deck of cards. A yellow light is discernible from under, shining through its semi-transparent sections despite the multi-colored stained glass, and I fall into it (deliberately, leaning forward) without fear, cracking it open and immediately being “back” in bed.

---

Explanatory notes on dream modeling and processing:

My physical body is asleep in bed, not moving, and that is the foundation (and trigger) of the rendering of the sarcophagus. I am aware of the cause while in my dream aside from the fact its foundation is semi-lucidly scripted. (In “Stargate,” the sarcophagus is used to restore the physical body to full health and that was my original intent here.) The details mainly stem from associations with two Alan Parsons Project albums, “Pyramid” and “Turn of a Friendly Card.” (On the cover of “Pyramid,” Alan Parsons is sitting up in bed in a room with an orange and yellow glow. “Turn of a Friendly Card” features the king of diamonds in stained glass.)

The color yellow is a factor I have used all my life (in both infra-awareness and lucidity) to initiate emerging consciousness and dream state revivification. It is not a factor of absolute dream control in every case (only RAS mediation, which is unpredictable due to ultradian rhythm peaks and lows) and is typically more likely to bring about waking and preconscious manifestation than intended reinduction.

Deliberately leaning and falling forward, or jumping from a window or cliff is a method I have used since childhood to intensify and sustain a dream, though it does not always work as it occasionally triggers VSC RAS modulation. In contrast, the breaking window is a metaphor for dream state cessation as in the 1971 TV movie, “The Deadly Dream.”

Notes added Friday, 17 August 2018. As of this date, creating a large locked steel bank vault door that replaces the front door of a house, and rapidly flying towards it from a bedroom (to phase through it into whatever is beyond in the front yard) with total faith and confidence, is the most viable way I have found to vivify and sustain the dream state.

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Morning of May 8, 2018. Tuesday.



I allow the awareness of my physical body to become autosymbolic in the rendering of a silver van. I recognize the essence of water as dream state induction, the gentle beautiful rain splashing lightly on me at times from my left through the open window of the van. The van is driving itself without incident even though I am behind the steering wheel. Zsuzsanna is to my right in this dream (and I am sleeping more down on my stomach, so she is to my right side in reality, though I most often sleep on my left side). The van was meant to move through rain, which is the essence of well-being and healing factors, the brain and heart about 73% water at that. We go through a sparse forest of young trees; the trees on each side pass by in both directions. I do not reflect much upon such impossibility. We phase through a chain-link fence.

I enjoy going down the escalator of Hinkler in the van, with brief puzzlement of what may or may not be a car wash as we go elsewhere. Other people are walking around, shopping. Miniature cars drive above me, on the ceiling, upside-down, their headlights creating a harmonious awareness. The van drives itself through a hall in an unknown building that is just big enough for it to move through. Then in a more augmented vestibular awareness, we fly far above a lake near early evening.

Rain upon me in the dream state is so pleasing. Whatever vehicle my body becomes auto symbolically, car, van, airplane, boat, there is still flight potential.

---

Morning of March 1, 2017. Wednesday.



I am sitting in an armchair. I recall that there had been cheerful interaction with my family at a previous point. However, the setting firstly seems to be my Cubitis bedroom. The armchair is against the west wall, at the south end of my room (where no armchair had ever been in real life).

My room is somewhat dark. I begin to hear, seemingly from just outside the window, some sort of very unusual sound, almost like an electronic squeak (actually caused by subliminal awareness of a real environmental sound). I hear it a few times and eventually realize that it is someone in the front yard who is not supposed to be there.

I leave my room and walk around to the front of the house through the living room to possibly catch the imposer. At this point, it is still seemingly modeled mostly after the Cubitis house. However, when I open the front door, the area is completely different and unfamiliar, though my dream self does not register it as such (as I erroneously “recognize” it as our present address). Contrary to the implied Cubitis setting, there is no carport. There is no driveway or highway beyond. Instead, there is a huge front yard, mostly with very tall grass other than where it is short from about ten feet out from the front of the house. It now seems to be morning and I notice a beautiful blue sky.

I see a young unfamiliar male running through the front yard from my left (from where the noise was likely coming from). He seems to be very amused. He keeps running to the northwest, where there are more houses in both northerly rows and westerly rows. The house I am in seems somewhat isolated (mostly due to the huge front yard). I yell at him saying that I have weapons. He keeps running but I do not even think about chasing after him even though he seems to think I might while maintaining his seemingly cheerful countenance.

Looking at the front yard at the tall grass that is farther out, I also notice a clear path of short grass that goes for a very long distance. I feel very cheerful and even lucky about this feature even though I am annoyed by the idea of having to mow the rest of the yard on each side of the long path. I reason that grass does not grow much over all the old established paths. In the distance is also a beautiful mountain.

---

The waking transition is atypical here, though the first prompt (preconscious running off to my right) still oriented to my right as it most often is. It is atypical for the personified preconscious to run off rather than more directly initiate the waking dynamics. The path through the tall grass is a clue, especially regarding my clarity of it at this point (even though I remain in the doorway until waking, which is in itself a waking event as a door represents a potential shift in consciousness and often serves as the exit point of a dream). A mountain represents subliminal focus on the conscious self and the goal of waking from sleep. Still, had I stepped out from the doorway, this might have induced a lucid state as has occurred in many previous dreams.

---

Ritual: I went to bed at 1am last night, early enough that I hoped to get some dreaming in. I'd had good luck with the "Dream Leaf" supplement last time, so took the blue tablet before bed, together with two tabs of bacopa and a vitamin D supplement (the latter unrelated to any dreaming intentions). I slept deeply and I don't even think I woke up for a few hours. I still have no clock in the bedroom since I've been charging my phone downstairs, but I estimated it was around 4 or 5am when I first woke. At that point I took the red pill and went back to sleep. I woke a couple more times but was disappointed that I didn't recall any dreams. Finally it must have been around 8 or 8:30am and I felt almost awake enough to get up, but I thought I would give it one more shot. I mixed about half a teaspoon of Piracetam in some water and swallowed that before going back to bed. That's when the magic happened. It was about 9:30 when I woke up again after a linked series of lucid dreams.

1. ???
I feel certain there were one or more fully developed scenes initially, but so much else happened afterward that I lost all memory of these earlier episodes when I woke. One thing I like about tasks is that they act as a focus for memory as well as intention.

2. Gifts under the Tree
I was in my bedroom and already aware of dreaming, and it felt like some scene had just concluded. The thought occurred: Didn't I mean to finish the gift task properly? I'd better get that done before I wake up or I'll be annoyed. I remembered that my error last time had been forgetting to look under a tree for the gift. However, I looked around and saw that there was no tree in this room. Rather than waste time trying to find a tree elsewhere in the house, I decided to brute force it and manifest one right in the room. My ambivalence about this inelegant solution nearly destabilized the dream, but I was determined to finish the task so I managed to hold it together, even though I had to do this by getting down on all fours and crawling across the room toward the corner where I decided the tree would be.

Everything had gone dark but I figured as long as I could still feel the floor, it was not too late to restabilize. The texture of the floor was distinct, hardwood, and I could feel the smooth boards with small grooves between them, so I focused on that until the visuals kicked in again. My sight slowly returned, and although the lighting remained dim, I could see an illuminated Christmas tree in the corner I was heading for. Is it lit with real candles? I thought, noting the especially warm quality of the illumination, and remembering the nineteenth-century images that had always captured my imagination. But then I remembered why we don't do this anymore: Isn't that a fire hazard? I felt a flicker, not of the candles, but of the dream nearly destabilizing again at my irrational concerns, so I forced my attention away from the lights and onto the area underneath the boughs. I was still on my hands and knees so it was easy to peek underneath.

There were three objects. Two were wrapped, one rather messily, but the last caught my eye because it was unwrapped. It was a single glove, and from the position of the thumb I could see that it was for the left hand. No sooner had I observed this than two more manifested, in different colors, also for the left hand. As I wondered about the possible significance (nothing occurred to me) the pile got larger... maybe a dozen left-handed gloves were now strewn under the tree. This was getting out of hand (no pun intended) and anyway I preferred to choose a wrapped gift, so I withdrew my attention from the gloves and looked at the other objects. The first two hadn't appealed to me, but now I saw a flat, rectangular, neatly wrapped item that seemed perfect, so I picked it up for a closer look.

As I tore through the several layers of wrapping and tissue paper, I came across small textual clues that made me think this must be a gift from my spouse. It turned out to be a book, a beautiful old volume bound in leather that looked like it couldn't have been published later than the nineteenth century. The title was printed in small stamped gilt letters on the front cover. It was something like Personalities of Note, and subtitled Pple of Our Time, where I understood "pple" to be an abbreviation for "people." The author was identified as Lord Lytton, a name that I knew I recognized from WL history but couldn't immediately place.

Turning the book over in my hands and admiring the beautiful cover, I discovered a library sticker on the lower part of the spine. I wondered what library had held such a fine book and looked on the sides of the closed pages where the name is sometimes stamped. The top side of the pages had been coated with gleaming silver pigment, further attesting to the book's quality, but there were no stamps on the outside. I found it inside the back cover: "Library of _______" (I can't clearly remember the name but it was a one-syllable word ending with "nsk," similar to Svensk or Minsk, but something else I think). I continued to look for a "discard" stamp or some other clue that it had been deliberately divested from the library's holdings. I couldn't find one but reasoned that it must have been; surely it wouldn't have been given to me as a gift if it was still a part of a library's collection, and anyway, ex-library books are very common these days.

I opened the book hoping to read some passages, but despite the English title and author, the text was unmistakably in Cyrillic. This was disappointing since I don't read Cyrillic, and I concluded that it must be a translation.

3. Vampire Interlude
I don't recall the transition, but found myself lying next to a blonde boy. I realized that I was a vampire and that also reminded me that I was dreaming. I fed on his blood and gave him advice on his sexual difficulties.

4. False Awakening
I found myself lying under my down comforter in a very plausible facsimile of my WL bed, and even though I was lying sideways across the foot of the bed, I didn't think it odd because sometimes I'll lie in odd positions when I want to relax a bit more but avoid falling back to sleep. I felt aroused and began touching myself, but then I noticed an odd feeling of displacement and realized that even though I could distinctly feel the pressure of my fingers when I flexed them, my hand was resting at my side and not actually in contact with any other part of my body. I correctly deduced that this was because I was not fully awake. Eventually I was able to persuade myself that if I was lucky enough to still be in the dream state, I should make better use of it, and forced myself back out of bed.

5. Explaining Massage to the Snow Lizard
I flew out the window and landed in heavy snow. Now that I was on my feet, I found that the snow was so deep I could barely push my way through it. I was actually enjoying this, because I've been disappointed with the quality of the snow in the WL winter so far. It was night, and I was walking around a vague dream version of my house, but the thick snow made me feel like I was in some deep kingdom of winter. Wondering what to do next, I tried to remember any of the other current tasks of the month or year, but I was having trouble coming up with them. I thought hard until one came to me: the massage TOTM. This wintry realm seemed like an odd place to look for a massage, but part of the fun of dream is improvising, right?

Movement in the air made me look up, and I saw thick-bodied, pale blue lizards flapping slowly through the air. Maybe I could convince them to do it! I beckoned them down, and two of the snow lizards landed and gazed at me curiously.

"I'd like you to give me a massage." I instructed. They looked back blankly. Either they didn't understand the concept, or didn't understand why they should comply. I worked on the latter angle: "I need you to help me! It's for a Task." I tried to make the word "task" sound very important. "Please just rub my back a little." I sat down and turned my back to the nearest lizard.

What the lizard replied was so peculiar that I repeated it to myself many times afterward, making sure I would remember the phrasing: "Mr. Cooper, could you please salute the Constitution? I mean, lift your shirt." I found it very amusing that "salute the Constitution" was apparently a local euphemism for "lift your shirt," though I had no idea why he addressed me as "Mr. Cooper," a name that inspires no particular resonance. I complied with his instruction and looked foward to the prospect of a massage, since my back muscles have actually been sore lately in WL and I've been needing one.

I should note that by this point I had already been dreaming for so long that I was starting to worry how well I would be able to remember the details, so I was actually carrying around my dream journal and taking notes. I recognized sadly that they would be unlikely to persist into waking (though I always, irrationally, hope that somehow they will), but I figured that the concentration of writing down details might help me better fix them in memory. I jotted down what the lizard had just said while I was waiting for the massage to start. I think the second lizard was looking on quietly the whole time.

The lizard wasn't doing anything, so I tried to instruct him in how to give a massage. "Stroke my back," I suggested. He limply touched it. We wrangled a bit but weren't getting anywhere, so I decided to try a different tack. I lay face-down on the ground and insisted, my exasperation rising, "Just walk on my back! Walk directly on it!" I remembered when I was little my dad would have me walk on his back this way, so it was a valid form of massge. I was afraid the lizard might be too heavy, but reminded myself that since it was a dream I couldn't come to permanent harm. But the lizard still balked.

I sat up again, trying to come up with a solution. I remembered shiatsu, how it uses chopping motions. I thought that might be easier for the lizard to master, so I attempted to explain it. Finally I felt something vaguely massage-like as the lizard patted me several times on the shoulders with the flat part of its front feet. (For the first time I contemplated the anatomical differences that might make this challenging for the lizard.)

"Great!" I exclaimed, pleased that we were finally getting somewhere. "Okay, now keep doing that."

But the lizard sounded like someone awkwardly trying to escape an embarrassing social encounter as he replied: "Ummm... it was nice to know you..." and disappeared into the night.

6. The Lonely Beauty of Dream
Somehow after all this I still wasn't awake. I could hardly believe it myself. I knew I should force myself awake at this point, I was juggling so much in memory, and had so much to write down—and the dream notebook I was still carrying was not likely to be much help, though I continued to jot down details.

But I didn't want to wake up. I was enjoying this too much, and wanted to see where else it would go. I was still next to the house, but the sense of winter was fading as I walked around the corner, feeling fully in my element and murmuring: "This is my domain." I walked into the house, which still felt like mine even though it had no resemblance to WL, noting how detailed it all was, even a bit cluttered, boxes of cereal on the counter. What should I do next? I didn't feel like attempting another task as I already had so much to remember. As I approached the front door, which was open on a beautiful bright day—it was no longer dark outside, and the trees were green now—I was inspired to try to see the dream world at its best.

"Show me the beauty of dream," I commanded as I walked through the doorway back outside. I was addressing the dream state directly now. I repeated this a few times, and indeed, the natural landscape around me was incredibly lovely. I walked to the edge of the trees and pulled down a fir bough to admire it. The needles were an unusual shade of purple.

I continued admiring the landscape until I was struck with sudden note of melancholy. Everything was so beautiful, but what good is all this beauty if you have no one to share it with? That was always the problem, wasn't it? Could this explain something about the kind of beings we are, why we choose to cohabit a shared dream despite all the inevitable conflict? I felt a hint of that distinctive sensation you get when you're stoned and think you've stumbled on some revelation of cosmic importance, but at the same time you realize that it will sound bland and foolish when you look back on it later. The sense of loneliness persisted, so I attempted to break through the solipsism, to summon something to me, to reach out and find some other cognition.

A spacecraft flew low across the sky, seeking a place to land. It was not an alien ship but clearly of human make, chunkily built. I don't think it resembled anything in WL but was probably inspired by films or games: the first thing I thought to google was 'mass effect shuttle' and the image results are actually about right. I was surprised to see, as it came closer, that the word "AMERICAN" was written in block letters across the side.

The shuttle settled to the ground and I walked toward the landing site. The hatch opened and a few people came out, walking in single file. The guy in the lead was wearing his suit, but no helmet. He was a dark-haired, middle aged man with a rugged face. I thought he resembled the character Group Captain Peter Townsend from The Crown, which made sense because we've been watching that show lately, and the character was a military pilot.

I wanted to signal my benign intentions so I held my hands out and up. The captain also held his hands up, although I noted that he did not let go of the rifle in his right hand, he just wasn't pointing it at me. I guess he felt wary and uncertain of my intentions. "I come in peace," I announced to reassure him, though it occurred to me that he should be the one saying that—I lived here. As we came closer I slowly (so as not to startle him) brought forward my right hand, inviting a handshake. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and did the same. I brought down my left hand to clasp his in both of my own, feeling warm and benevolent. "Be well," I said sincerely.

At that moment I felt the irresistable pull of waking draw me out of the dream. I hadn't intended it, but it was perfectly timed.

I am walking along a path on a sunny day and I am engulfed by the beauty of the setting and how the light is hitting some flowers and miscellaneous landscaping. I am thinking this is a beautiful waking life side effect of my new practice. I say to myself if this were a dream I would fly over all of this and I lift myself up on my toes like I do IWL and I begin to float. I gave myself a mild-mannered "how about that...I'm actually dreaming this" with a short chuckle...a more calm knowing than the aha realizations. I play around with my flying staying no more than 50 feet or so high and swooping down in some aerial acrobatics which feel quite realistic and fun though maybe not the strong stomach effect, a bit muted. I think of the spinning TOTM which was a dream activity I wanted to revisit and play with and I spin while seemingly still floating many feet off the ground and the spin feels very realistic and I seem to close my eyes a few times like a kid often does while spinning but it could have also been the effect of the spin on my vision, I don't remember consciously choosing to close my eyes. I think of wanting to arrive at a beach but then I remember that it's supposed to be a surprise where I arrive. I hear upbeat music while spinning and I stop a few rotations after hearing the music to go the opposite direction to try to rewind back to that "location" but the music is gone so I start spinning again and decided that should be good enough and stop and I see a big dark room and a open doorway I pass through. On the other side is like this large holographic display maybe equivalent to a 100" screen TV but transparent with a clear outline and it is displaying an older style computer animation of a girl walking around in a simple maybe only three color animation. As I watch it the animation looks more refined. I move on and see the back view of a thin female (assuming) of unknown age wearing skinny jeans or tight pants, tan in color, and she has brown hair down to about her shoulder blades and a light colored top. I called out for her to come back but she was already ducking into another hall ahead and to my left. I decide to stay where I am at and shortly after a group of ladies to my right come strolling into this large room which is still dark (though the details have been clear since the big holographic screen animation, though never as vibrant as the scene with the sunlight on the flowers). I think the ladies were residue from the Incorporated TV show. They were wearing skimpy evening wear, mostly little black dresses but also a red dress or two. Dream fades to me in bed.

I'm underground, standing on a old stones pontoon. The only light comes from a arched window on the wall on my left, half covered with ivy and fitted with metal bars. There isn't any boat on the dark waters, but a narrow stones path run along the wall to another potoon with a old wooden door. It's pretty cold but I'm warmly dressed, and the place have a deep, heartly smell of soil, wet stones and thick foliage, with a sweet undertone of decay, like the floor of a forest.
I walk up to the door, careful not to fall in the water. I knock on the door and a middle aged blonde woman open it, asking me if I'm here to visit. I agree and she let me in. It's a old house, but well-loved; the wooden floor have the color and the shine of honey, and the walls are painted white. The ceiling are impossibly high, with long, swirling staircase going up to the upper level. There is very little furnitures, and the little that are scattered around are pretty broken down. I walk around, sometime crossing path with the owner. I reach a narrow, tall wooden door in a art déco style, and the owner agree to open it for me. It lead to a garden, big and untamed, yet I can spot littles details that tell me that it's a deliberate look, everything in it's exact place. I smile at the big almond tree, aware that in the spring its flowers smells amazing.

A very comtemplative dream, without a lot going on, but with beautiful sceneries.

A woman is standing in my home - I'm not physically present at the moment - and looking into a mirror that's showing her various visions. Currently it's showing her the man she loves with a very beautiful young servant standing underneath a tree, carrying out an affair. This isn't a surprise - she was already aware of it.

The scene in the mirror changes, showing her an image of herself in a shop. There's no sound but the shop owner seems to be repeatedly asking her something that she refuses to respond to. When he approaches her, she throws out a hand to tell him to back off, but her nails brush his throat and cut it open, covering her with his blood. She looks shocked, but quickly recovers and hurries out of the shop.

This second vision reminds her of my instructions to her. She has to eat a human heart tonight if that young and beautiful body I gave her is going to become hers permanently. And regularly after that, but that's not important, that's just basic dietary needs - the important part is this first time, making a deliberate decision.

She steps through a portal back into her world, the courtyard of her own home. But as she looks around things look strange to her - most notably, the sky is covered with grey clouds that seem unnatural to her. It's as if she's seeing both her world and mine at the same time, and she wonders if this is how I see her world all the time. I'm thinking, you're getting a bit mixed up about which world is yours now.

England in the 1940s or so, I'm disembodied and watching a man and a woman singing a duet in a garden. Both of them are thinking about a man named Dyson. They were friends when they were younger, but he left the country years ago and they haven't heard from him since; in their memories, he's a sort of ideal. I'm thinking how disappointed they would be if they were to see him now.

When their song's over, they talk with the people who'd been listening. The woman who'd been singing is speaking to a particular man, very wealthy, and hinting that she's expecting him to invite her along to a particular event. But although they clearly have some kind of history, he finds this suggestion laughable - he hardly even thinks of her as a woman. I'm surprised, since I'd just been thinking about how beautiful she is - the dream image had zoomed in on her profile as she was talking to him, and I'd been admiring the curve of her nose, the softness of her hair. Very beautiful. But the man walks off with most of the others - they're heading back toward the house. The man she'd been singing with comes up to her and says he saw her talking to that wealthy guy, and how they seem to get along well. She says, "Sure do."

My POV turns around, not following them - I'm focusing on the opposite direction. On a hill overlooking the garden, there's a man who'd been hiding among the trees and bushes, watching them. This is Dyson.

I remember becoming aware for a few seconds in one of my dreams.
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I was in a huge cafeteria and with a lot of people. Some dude wanted to fight me but I don't remember what happened I was then taking a dump in a bathroom that I think was very dirty
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I went underwater into a beautiful reef that was enclosed on all sides. I saw 2 little fish-like things. One with 1 fin and another with 2 fins. The one I wanted to talk to was the one with 2. We swam around jellyfish and I warned the fish with 2 fins, who was a girl, not totouch the tentacles, only the caps of the jellyfish. The jellyfish were floating upwards and created a beautiful square wall with their tentacles. I took my phone out and took a picture of the jellyfish wall. The fish with 2 fins then turned into a mermaid and we kept talking and even took pictures together.
I was then on some bed in an apartment and the mermaid had grown legs. She started giving my apparent roommate a massage and I was mad because she was mine but not really because I never asked her out. I was still jelly. She left and she suddenly turned into Christa and would talk all retarded. I got disgusted and left to some karate place where the teacher/instructor was testing us on how to make origami out of popcorn bags. I didn't know what I was doing but Chenn from drill helped me while the professor wasn't looking.

Morning of November 5, 2013. Tuesday.



I am in either St. Martin (relating to the Jimmy Buffet song “The Night I Painted The Sky”) or perhaps Brisbane in South Bank Parklands in another time, in the past, on Cracker Night, but which in real life no longer occurs due to health and safety issue. The first part of the Jimmy Buffet song goes, “I came from the north, Escaping convention, modern invention that won’t let me be, to the shores of St. Martin, with my fiction addiction, to restart the fire, a dreamer’s remedy”.

The fireworks are bright but mostly hues of blue, white, and turquoise. Several times, they form a butterfly pattern, with sparks going out from the center, a pale glow forming the body, and two additional “rockets” streaking upwards near the top. This is apparently also an actual real-life event which I have not ever actually seen anywhere.

I hear, seemingly from distant speakers, the original Bob Lind version of “Elusive Butterfly”, or at least I think I do. The song is a rare treasure in a world of mostly noise and meandering negativity. Even though it seems like a big event, only a few people seem to be in the immediate area, mostly couples. Still - there is loud yelling and cheering that seems to be coming from somewhere else.

A man runs past me to my left, at least one larger spark falling behind him onto the ground. He seems a bit nervous. A mysterious girl, mostly of shadow, is at a fair distance, but still partially discernible. She appears to be near a refreshment stand.

After a time, more sparks are falling, now and then, causing sizzling sounds to occur in a few locations but no impression of danger.

The sparks that are falling are not sparks, but glowing beads. Apparently it is not true fireworks, but someone shooting small glowing beads into the air, seemingly from a boat halfway across the river. They must be magnetic, as they seem to either roll towards each other or move away from each other once they hit the ground. Other people appear and beads hit them now and then, but nothing dramatic happens. Eventually, the girl in shadow comes out and the beads start sticking to her dark blouse, forming a beautiful, glowing mosaic-like image (still of mostly blues, white, and turquoise). It makes a three-dimensional network of circulatory-like light and the wings move. Only one person (another girl in a small group) notices and says “oh, look at that”, pointing, but no one else notices, so they soon all walk off elsewhere. I am still aware of some fireworks in the sky, which is starting to make a buzzing hum rather than a crackling. One man still stands around looking a bit puzzled.

“Oh, that’s my wife,” I say, walking to the “shadow girl”, and it is. Suddenly, a magnetic field visibly forms along the same trajectory as the falling sparks from the fireworks. However, it becomes very difficult to tell the difference between the “butterfly” and the magnetic field, even in what seems to be some sort of growing rhythmic movement that makes me feel very peaceful and comfortable. I sense youthful laughter and cheerfulness from a fair distance.

at a restaurant, or at a political meeting that had a restaurant's menu. i was looking at the menu, with my mom. i was trying to decide what to get. there was a pork thing that looked ok, kind of like pork fajitas. but something about it wasn't perfect. the pork looked really plain and boring. there was a sandwich on a huge loaf of bread, it looked gross cause it had too much bread. and it came with this weird rice patty that didnt look good...plus that would be too much starchy in one meal. i asked my mom if there were more choices on the other isle.

i found old pictures, and was going thru. they took a couple seconds of movement. it was some fancy film my mom had gotten me once. i decided i really liked it, and since technologty could handle it these days, i'd get it more often. there were pictures of old guys i used to date. or jessica did. 3 guys, all 3 pretty decent cute. i went into the memory, and got the 2 cutest so we could hook up or kiss or something. they seemed to be remembering me, a little playing uninterested, but they came with me.

at this political thing with my mom and other people. a lady gets a bouquet. she asks where she should put it, should it be displayed in a certain way for the event's benefit? no, the flowers are just for her own personal use in whatever way she would like, the event has enough
bouquets of its own. so she is happy, and tries to find a vase to keep them in. i look with her. there are two vases. one looks much to big and wide. so i pick the other one. she wants to keep the flowers private for herself. wheni put them in the vase, part of the boquet gets smushed in the sides because the side flowers are too short and go too deep into the vase so the glass covers them. i'm disappointed, and know she must not be satisfied with that. i think maybe the wide one would be better, even if it is too big, at least the wideness wouldnt smush the flowers. but i think the boquet might already be somewhat damaged, so it wont even be as pretty as it was. the side flowers were pretty delicate




notes:
just got home from moms, back at my house. barely got any sleep. stayed up all night reading about dreams and lucid dreaming, wanting to do that.

dreamt about my mom, political event and food because my mom is really invovled in politics right now and always going to events for it, and food because i am on a new diet with my brother that is low carb/starch/sugar. the flowers were like when i volunteer at the farmer's market and bill gives us a boquet of flowers as a thank you to take home with us.
i dont know why i dreamt of the boys or photos. maybe because i was looking at photos on my computer last night, and i wouldnt mind some male companionship. amanda did just send an email saying how she thinks i really do want sex and a man, just am not focusing on it right now.

what this dream could mean: i want to fulfill my desires, i want to make the right choices, but sometimes the choice doesn't even seem to be 'on the menu' or available, so i just have to settle for something that won't be too bad. i'm learning what i want and what things i like and starting to make decisions about how i want my life to be and how i want to spend my time. (like recording my dreams again and doing dream work and trying to lucid dream etc) i have a desire to help people and i think i am recieving a good thing, nice insights, great talent, opportunities etc, but i dont have the right "container" for them, to support the life i desire, maybe not living in the right place, dont have the right community, or enough energy, etc....need to find the right container because i feel like the delicate beauty in my life is being spoiled and not seen.

3 dreams and one fragment. The first is about a getaway from a threatening situation or people, the 2nd one is the fragment, it is about motocross in a forest. There is much more to it, but I can't recall more details. The 3rd entry is a pleasant dream about flirting with a married woman (I forgive myself, she is beautiful). The 4th is about coming home:

• I am together with my brother. We run away from something or someone, it is a threatening situation and I run for my life, I am very fearful. We are in the ground floor of a building with narrow corridors and white walls. I have the impression that my brother is not really aware of the danger of the situation, so I yell at him to convince him to move faster and to follow me.
  
  We come to an elevator, 2 or 3 people are waiting for it and I decide to move upstairs as well, as it seems to be the only way to go. But there is no time to wait I think, so I chose a narrow circular stair to the right of the elevator and run upwards, while again reminding my brother that we have no time to rest, or 'they/it' may get us.
  
  I tell him 'don't worry about grandmother, she will be alright as she has always been. She has lived most of her days happily, just leave her behind and let her go'. As I say that I feel that I myself also have trouble leaving her behind and letting her go, but I force myself to do that and to continue running, so that I am a good example for my brother to follow.
  
  On the second floor we climb out of the window and slide down a slanted roof. I think it's fun to slide down here, but then the fear of the people/thing following us takes over again. We land in the garden of the house, where I find an air pump. I pick it up, just in case I could use it as a weapon. We encounter a gardener, who is raking leaves. He says something, but I don't trust him, he might be part of the complot (after all, I didn't even know exactly what we were running away from). I consider piking up a rake lying next to me and just beat the gardener to the ground, but then I decide it's best to just leave. We walk out of the garden and the fear wears off.
  
  I don't know what I was afraid of and running away from. But I was scared, that is for sure. I don't know what the passage with our grandmother means. I rarely experience fear in dreams, but I appreciate it afterwards, when I do, because it makes the dream very vivid and detailed, as the fear forces me to be completely in the moment or situation.
  
  
• I am riding a motocross bike on small forest paths. There is dense vegetation and small hills. The bike is light, but strong, so that it easily rides on almost any terrain. I ride in a group with some other people, I have a lot of fun.
  
  I find myself on a broad road between some fields, riding the bike. I have lost the group, which makes me sad and I try to find them again. I ask some hikers to help me, they direct me to a small house in the forest and they claim that this is a sort of meeting point for hikers and bikers. So I go there and I am happy to meet 2 people from the group to rejoin. We go into the small house to rest a bit and maybe to find some others.
  
  I know there is more content in this dream, but this fragment is all I can recall. The forest paths were beautiful and the bikes were really cool, I had a lot of fun.
  
  
• I have a conversation with a beautiful, young, blond woman. We are on a small hill under some big and wide trees, the scenery is very calm and relaxing. We are with some people we both know, but I only talk to her.
  
  We are in a bus, I sit in the back end of the bus at the left window, the blond woman is in the seat in front of me, but she has turned around to talk to me. She has a cute face and short blond curls, I think I am in love with her. But somehow I also know that she is married, so I am not sure how to behave. I decide to ignore the beautiful landscape outside the window and to look beyond my morals and doubts straight into her eyes. As I force myself to do that, I find that it is not at all uncomfortable, but rather it is the most natural and pleasant thing to just rest my eyes in hers. Suddenly my fears of being hurt and my doubts about the moral situation seem ridiculous and I give her my undivided attention. Wow she is beautiful, I think, while she talks (I'm not really listening ).
  
  I want everything about her, now, there is no doubt. I sense that she feels the same way, but that we both are unsure how to express that. We walk along the ocean between a forest to the right and a beach to the left. She takes my hand and we just walk, saying nothing. I think, wow, I almost forgot how good this feels!
  
  I had several dreams about cute, blond women recently, but I don't know how to relate that to my waking life or why or where it comes from. I guess I have just been single for a while and maybe I am just ready for someone new? In any case it was a nice experience, I am certainly open for more dreams with her
  
  
• I am in a residential area and I walk on small paths between tall houses. A boy, who looks Korean/Chinese, walks past me. He makes some clicking noises behind me and as I turn around, he suddenly has a bike and he rides away. I wonder where the hell did he pull that bike out? But then I just move on. I decide to turn around and go to my mothers place.
  
  The apartment door of my mothers place looks a lot like the door of my room I think, as I stand in front of it. There is light and noises coming from the workroom, so I figure that my stepfather is at home. There is no door handle, though. So I investigate the door further and I find out that it is opened by a little light switch. I am now inside the apartment in the hallway, but all doors are closed. I know that everyone is at home, because I can somehow sense their presence, but I don't want to draw attention to myself yet, so I go into the kitchen. There are 3 burned pizzas in the oven and the oven door is open. I sit down and enjoy the calmness, peace and idyll of the situation. Smells and feels like being home and everything is alright as it is.
  
  The bike coming out of nothing should have made me more curious or even lucid, because I noticed it in great details and even wondered about it. But somehow I just went on with my walk. The apartment is not the real one, but purely dream fiction. It was a pleasant dream nevertheless, it had the comforting feeling of being home.

Non-dream Dream

Dream 1:

I am in Vegas with my friend VP and his wife. VP asks a bartender at one of the casinos how much it typically costs to go out in Vegas for one night. The bartender says at least $200 for a good time. VP only has $30 so he decides to spend the whole time in the hotel room. I go with them up to the room. VP's wife insists on taking this elevator that I really don't want to take. The elevator shoots us up the outside wall of the hotel (we can see outside) and up to the roof. I feel like we are going way too fast and there is no way we can stop. I feel like we are going to die. We somehow go over the roof and end up in the room. VP and his wife want beer and I find some Bud Light in the fridge. I am pissed because I forgot my earplugs but then I find them. I keep begging them to come out and gamble with me but they refuse.

Dream 2:

I am with my wife, my friend JW and his wife and we are on some kind of floating ride - kind of like a hot air balloon but we are flying lower. We pass by a garden (which I think is my garden) with some beautiful tomato plants. Next we are all sleeping in a large room with a bunch of friends and they tell me I am snoring just a little bit.

Dream 3:

I am riding a bicycle towards a hike I want to do. It is a "neighborhood hike" in Anaheim Hills - I believe close to Toyon Park. I am still on my bike and I am on a narrow trail with a lot of puddles. It is a crystal clear day and a crisp morning. I look off to the right of the trail, expecting to see houses like I usually do, but I see the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen. There is lush greenery, tons of trees, and a beautiful, pristine alpine lake - the most stunning shade of blue I have ever seen. I want to stop and take a picture of it but I want to get to the trail head.

[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3]The following dream has been rated DV-MA, and is intended for mature audiences. It contains strong sexual content, and is not intended for those who might be offended by such material.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][SPOILER="Carnivorous Sex"][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The time is mid-afternoon, and though it doesn’t appear tobe a school day my children are not at home. I’m standing in what is normallymy laundry room, but somehow it extends about 10 feet further out to the west,and my view is in line with the sidewalk which normally borders that side of myhouse.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]As I look out my window, four people walk right through myyard, conversing as they do so that walking through my yard is okay. The firstthree people are young black girls, two younger ones, and perhaps their oldersister. The older one is decently attractive, and has her hair pulled backtightly. She is wearing a white t-shirt, shorts, sandals, and has a dog on aleash. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]As she approaches my window, the younger two having alreadypassed, I place my hands on my face and my elbows on the top of washing machineand just stare at her. I wonder what she will do and I’m semi-lucid at thispoint. She walks right up to me, staring into my face at window level, and Ismile at her. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The fourth person walking through my yard is a white woman,following a few feet behind the other three. As the young black womandisappears around the corner and out of view, the white woman starts to pass mycactus garden, and then also moves out of my sight.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Not two seconds later the white woman is in my back yard,and I am not sure if she has climbed the fence or if she came through the frontdoor. This never becomes clear but she does seem friendly, and is looking forcompany. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My laundry room is more a smoking lounge now, similar to howit is in real life. The deck which is attached to it and the structure of myhouse are not the way they appear when I’m awake, and I really enoy theredesign. Wood plank decking and a further extension to the house look nice,and I sit down comfortably.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Don’t worry, you can smoke in here.” I tell the woman. Sherelaxes and lights up a cigarette but it looks like a pipe. We are sitting infolding chairs, like the kind we normally use for outdoor concerts and campingtrips. The room is also more spacious.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Outside the room the wind has picked up and is gustingstrong. Leaves are swirling on the breeze and my hair is blowing about my face.This gets me slightly excited, knowing what such a wind must mean.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I think a storm is coming!” I say excitedly, and I lean outover a railing which previously did not exist. Below me is highway 290 east andI can see a storm cloud a few miles to the east of the house, which is startingto rise over the distant hill.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Oh, I love storms! My new apartment is over there!” thewoman says this in a coy way, knowing my love of storms. She now seems muchmore familiar than she did when she first appeared, and has taken on theappearance of someone I used to know years ago.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The storm cloud is quite ominous looking. The undersideappears to be rolling, like an angry sea, and is the most unusual shade oforange mixed with dark cloud. It almost looks as if the fading light of sunsetis shining on the underside of the cloud, and images from several sci-fi moviesrun quickly through my head. This is often the sign of a strong storm, oftenaccompanied by hail and strong winds. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Now I’m truly excited.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The woman leaves and tells me to catch up to her. I runaround the house, hurriedly get in my vehicle, and follow as fast as I can. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]It doesn’t take long to drive the two or three miles to thehills that appeared on the horizon from my home. The side of the hill facing meis well developed, with several shopping strips, a pizza place, and severalapartment buildings. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I’m looking forward to taking some pictures of the storms,and I’m almost giddy from being closer to them. The woman, who now seems likemy friend Carla from years ago, has driven behind the pizza place to herapartment building, so I follow. I never park or even exit my vehicle, yetsomehow I am no longer driving and have in fact entered the apartment. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]At first, I don’t realize I have arrived at the locationbecause I am standing on a concrete balcony, or slight hill which is paved andhas a railing to prevent someone falling to the grassy retention area below. AsI turn around I finally realize I am in the apartment, and I begin to lookaround.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The apartment is not atypical, though probably a little morespacious than most, and has high ceilings which slant towards the center wall.A fireplace is on the west wall, surrounded on either side by windows. The deckI was on is behind me, and I am facing the middle of the living room and thefront door beyond. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]In the center of the room, “Carla” is comfortably loungingon the sofa. I start looking around and even peek out the front door, thoughthe only thing I see is a walkway and another apartment building. Some childrenare playing a ways down the sidewalk.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I close the door and walk back towards the sofa. As I do so,“Carla” jumps up and does a little spin, throwing her hands in the air as shedoes. I become aware that I am aroused by this, and even more unusual, I ammale. Looking down I can clearly see an erection making a bulge in my pants.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I stride forward and “Carla” lies down on her stomach on thefloor. Her body is incredible, and her tight jeans accentuate her ass and hug it in a way that makes me want to bury my face between her legs. I contemplate lying down on top of her, and even imagine the act ofpulling down her pants and entering her from behind, but I decide I shouldapproach her from the other side. I circle around her and approach her head,the open patio door and deck now behind me.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Looking over my shoulder I realize that anyone on the roadoutside would easily be able to see us, should they look in our direction, yetthis doesn’t bother me. In fact, I think it arouses me more, and I lie downwhere she was, as she gets up and takes off her clothes.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]She is more beautiful than I remember her being.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]In this moment I become fully lucid, and I want this dreamto go all the way. Too often my sex dreams fizzle at the key moment, and I donot want this to happen, so I tell myself that this time it will work out.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I’m lying on the floor and very erect (remember that I’mmale in this dream) and I reach for her as she straddles me. It’s a wonderfulsensation as she slides down on top of me, and I notice the feel of her skin onher back, the light sheen of moisture clinging to her body as her excitementrises. My hands go to her hips and I thrust deep into her, feeling my dickthrob as she squeezes me. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I can see out the open patio door and a bolt of lightning appears as I thrust hard, a bright flash that lingers as the air cools following the passage of thousands of volts. This imagery seems to complement my mood and as I stare up at her waves of desire and pleasure wash over me. Her breasts are nice and full, thrusting forward as she arches her back, her eyes closed and mouth agape, begging the sky for air as she gasps in time to my thrusts.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My perspective changes, like a movie camera panning around,and I can see the two of us on the floor as if I was standing near the sofa. Ican see the sliding glass door and deck behind us, and I really like this newview. I think I see a tattoo on her back, but I can’t make it out. She isriding me, head thrown back, and I am too involved in the sensations as she slides up and down onme, wonderful feelings that I still experience even though I no longer seem tobe occupying my body.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The view swirls around again and now I’m staring at her faceand chest, as though a camera is slightly over my left shoulder. She is reachingover her head, pulling her hair off her neck to vent some heat, and like me,she too is caught up in the pleasure of this impromptu union. I love the feel of her hands on me, the tickle of her hair, and her scent is intoxicating.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Sadly, and regrettably, I wake up, and the words,“Carnivorous sex,” echo through my mind, as if they had some special meaning towhat I was experiencing. I am very aroused, and a little bit sad that I didn’tget to finish. Still, the imagery and experience was memorable, and I lookforward to more. [/SPOILER][/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]

WAKING LIFE DREAMING LUCID
BOLD IF IT FEELS PARTICULARLY SIGNIFICANT

From the night before last

A friend of mine from waking life was with me. (He was someone I had feelings of being in love with which had been returned to a tentative extent. It was not explored more than mentally and somewhat emotionally. The timing was not right for ethical reasons. We explored each others’ minds, to the extent I could at that time and it was exhilarating.)

We were outside, in the large front area of an old looking house. The house had perhaps that pinky colored brick (which inspires me with a deep feeling of beauty in waking life) used on two ends to create rounded walls, like they were slightly punched out of the house like columns, their windows facing us. Something about that shape was important. I felt a connection to family past.

Outside, where we were, was beautiful and warm. Like a cool summer day at sunset, when the colors are deep and warm and have the feint feeling of being lit from the inside. We were standing under an umbrella-ing tree. The greens and oranges and browns infused around and through us, as if it was a time when the smells come alive to flow slowly through the warm air.

There was some specific reason (the architecture, I think) that he didn’t like it. I told him I thought houses like these were beautiful! Told him about when I’d been in another one like it, I think with family, and how wonderful it was. Though I didn't feel angry or scared, the feeling of my awareness of his (sometimes pushy) tendency to criticize was with me.

I was exuberant about the love I’d experienced in that house, though I could feel something darker inside this particular, extraordinarily similar house as we stood outside. I didn’t feel very threatened by the darkness, more just aware and happily reliving parts of the joyful memories inside the other house. The memories were infused with a sense of family and connection and freedom of expression. Curious, I want to call it almost doula-like love with a lot of feminine energy.