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I kept having dreams all night but I didn't record them all because I really needed some sleep. I woke up when Meesha came in to be fed & closed the door so she wouldn't interrupt my sleep. Sorry Meesha Cat, but mommy needs to sleep!

I dreamed that I was w/ my family most of the night. Not my children, husband, grandchildren, but my core family from when I was young that extended to my grandparents and such. We were in various places. I even found myself lucid but felt a strange pull to not change the dream. I felt like I was supposed to pay attention & learn. We were all in this gorgeous palace. The steps were like a block wide with giant pillars. The details were spectacular! I was really enjoying the details. My family was yet again trying to get me to interact w/ Crazy Daisy, my mom's mom. I was trying to calmly tell them that I do forgive her but I just don't choose to have such a compulsively toxic person in my life. There were a lot of tea settings & bells. Crazy Daisy collects bells & I came across a bunch of them in a store I frequent just a week ago. We went down into a theater in the palace. I went first & walked along the rows of red velvet chairs. When I got to the end off to the side of the stage I was discussing where we should put our stuff before we go back behind the stage. I was told to just put them near one of the folding velvet movie like chairs. I looked out over the auditorium & couldn't figure out what we were all going to do. I went up to the curtain & pulled it back & woke up.

So I got a lucid but stayed true to myself & just bathed in the realness of it all. The great detail & such. I think we don't do enough of that & it's the foundation of lucid dreaming. Reminding yourself how real the dreamscape is in & of itself. My pull to find meaning was very strong. I don't know if my grandmother will pass soon or what. I also don't know why suddenly she is in a bunch of my dreams. It's odd. Usually dreams like that for me mean death, I'm going to talk to them soon, or I'm going to see them soon. Yes, that is a real gift I have. I also can ask where things are out loud & then find them. My husband loves that particular gift. I text him during the day opposed to saying it out loud some times because it works best when I ask him in particular for some reason. He also thinks I could find the winning lottery numbers somehow, lol. But I don't think it works that way. I have been talking out loud lately to my grand parents that have passed in hopes that they here me & give me a sign. Maybe it was that. I do forgive my grandmother, that is very real. I just don't like the feeling that I have about my family thinking I should talk to her. When they themselves acknowledge that she is a compulsive liar & fake. My parents & my brother are atheists & me & my sisters are not so we have an interesting dynamic. And when I say they are atheists, I mean they try to push that down people's throats on social media & are just as bad as people who do the same w/ religion. Good people yet pushy w/ this subject for some reason. I love them but they would never understand how spiritual I've become & would only mock it like they mock my cousin, who faithfully every day on Facebook is giving her thanks to God for everything. She also used to have an abusive ex like I did so I get it but yet she's still on the extreme side but always positive which is better than being a negative atheist. That's not to bash anyone but to say I don't like people being pushy in a negative way. At least my cousin doesn't push it on anyone. My sisters on the other hand have been in my thoughts. I have been struggling w/ telling them about some of the changes in my life such as lucid dreaming & other things that have been happening spiritually to me for like, forever, lol..... That's probably what this dream was really about. I talk to my family every day via a group text which is continuous. This is due to my parents new found traveling now that they have retired via their RV. They are currently in Canada.

Non-Lucid-Green
Lucid-Red
Side Notes-Purple
Astral Projection/AP-Brown/OOB

As Hemlock Grove's Roman, me and Peter have just entered this old abandoned tower, and I'm showing off some of the tricks I've picked up since the last time we saw each other. I turn myself into a cloud of bats, thinking of this as something I'd learned from that one previous dream, and I come out of it high on the wall, looking down at Peter watching me, able to hold myself up against the vertical wall just by gripping with my hands - it's not completely effortless, but it's still easy. It's a rush. I'm having so much fun showing off with Peter, I want to laugh. This makes me start thinking something about connections with people, and then there's a memory gap.

The next scene I remember is in a different part of the same building, the memory gap only lasted for about one or two changes of scene. I'd climbed up into the metal rafters and I've been heading up in a spiral, and I've just come across a closed door; but I'm not playing around anymore, I'm in a hurry, either chasing or being chased by something. The door has no handle on this side, so I hammer on it and shout, "Open the door. Open the door, mom!" (I was thinking of someone specific by 'mom', but whoever she was, it wasn't my IRL mother or the mother of the character I'd started the scene as - I'm not sure I'm still playing his role by this point.) Door still doesn't open, and I'm not surprised. I step back and look at it. There's no way to open it from this side, just a keyhole big enough to look through - I can see some light through it, and I have the feeling I'm meant to look through it, and that thought pisses me off. I grip the side of the door, forcing my fingers into the gap between the door and the frame, and I wrench it open.

The other side of the door leads to somewhere else completely, unconnected to the building I was just in. It's incredibly vivid, nothing like the dream I'd been having up until this point - which hadn't seemed un-vivid in any way, but I'm thinking of this as a completely different way of seeing things. I'm in a stone hallway, brownish-yellowish stones, filled with many doors, all of them wooden, arched, narrow, dull red. I still have that sense of being in a hurry, and I immediately go to open the first door to my left. But as I do, I hear a woman's voice - the mother I'd referred to before - shouting this strangled "No!" and I hear the sound of a door closing, and footsteps in a hurry. And then I'm awake.

(Really awake, none of the usual transition, just footsteps and "No!" and suddenly in my bed with my eyes open. Was convinced I'd been woken up by the actual front door and actual footsteps - which is not unusual, I sleep while other people are up - but no, just the dream. Back to sleep.)

As Constantine (rhymes with turpentine), I've been in a police interrogation room for a while now when they let in this elegant older woman to see me, calling her "Mrs. Constantine." She's supposed to be my mother, which is a lie of course, my mother being long dead, but I instantly play along with the act. Memory gap, and then I'm being put in a holding cell, and I try to convince someone I pass along the way to have the police find that woman and pick her up, quick. Not sure I made myself clear, though, I'd been passing out, having a hard time staying conscious. I can see the brown smoke of her spell wrapping around me. Blacked out.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I had a classroom scene, so I went lucid and walked out. I didn't have any particular destination in mind aside from getting out of the school, and the first door that I reached for took me into the kitchens - still meant to be part of the school. The next door I can find is a refrigerator door, and I give that a shot - no good, I open it and find food inside. I think to myself that this is probably too strong an association to bother trying again, so I remove the refrigerator from the wall. There's a white wooden door behind it. This one opens onto a satisfyingly different scene - rolling green hills and a mountain in the distance that I mentally compare to Mt. Fuji from its size and the way it dominates the landscape, though otherwise they don't look alike.

I walk along a paved road leading towards that mountain. At one point I come across a house, and the road divides so that one path leads up a slope to that building and down again to rejoin the main road on the other side, and I'm admiring the organic shape of both the road and the house. It's a white one-story building composed of several rounded rooms, with a reddish-brown shingled roof with little spires over each rounded room. There were quite a few plants that I was admiring, and gardening tools, but I knew this was going to be too much detail for me to remember, and a lot of it didn't have any IRL comparisons I could easily make, to make it easier to remember. I focus on a couple woven baskets lying on a bench, with lids with little spires like the ones on the roof, the last thing I focus on as the path leads me back down to the main road.

The path leads me into a town, or a small city maybe, starting in a little square with two clocks standing on black iron poles. Both of them show the same time, 3:00, with the second hand pointing down at the 6; a bell tolls, and then they both run backwards, until every hand points to the top, midnight exactly.

The path leads on to another square, this one with a big brass bell. There are a fair number of people in the streets around me now, but I'm only paying attention to one - a man standing beneath that bell. He calls me over. He's this older man, and I mentally compare him to Mister Rogers, that sort of friendly and wise and harmless impression. His speech is slurred and very deliberate, as if he has a hard time forming English words. He says quite a few things about me heading for the mountain, and preparing for that, and he mentions K., an old IRL friend who I haven't gotten in touch with for a long time. I'm a little frustrated by knowing I'm not going to be able to remember all these details when I wake up, and I'm having a hard time picking and choosing which parts to focus on, but I hold up a hand to stop him and ask about K., ask him to clarify - is he saying I need K. with me at the mountain, that I can't do it alone? He's surprised by the question. He says, no, you can go on alone. And he compares me to "a dry martini: high in the hand, but hard to keep it." Okay, that's suitably convoluted phrasing that I'm definitely not going to remember that unless I wake up now. I choose to wake up so I can remember at least some of what he's said. I regret this decision almost instantly.

Morning of June 18, 1989. Sunday.



I believe there were other events prior to this main vivid scene before waking. I am in some sort of rather large belfry. There are unknown unusual people that do not look in my direction or speak to me. They are wearing pale brown robes, it seems. I get the impression that they may be monks.

I watch and see the reddish brown bells swing and hear them make very eerie tones, sounding much like the slowed-down recording of someone dropping silverware into a metal pan. The sound is somewhat discordant but still musical in a way. Something about the scene is not quite right. It seems to be just prior to sunset. (However, there is an ambiguous awareness that I am watching this in late morning, caused by my awareness of waking from my dream.)

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This dream, like many dreams (or at least the final segment), was designed to wake me up.

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I would like to clarify that I used this title as a joke, not be be descriptive.