• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    1. Sunday, May 24

      by , 06-03-2020 at 03:24 AM
      Mom and Makayla are going to get matching tattoos, and I am going with them. Outside, it is very overcast. There seems to be some dark purple in some of the clouds as well. This place doesn’t look like a tattoo shop; this entrance is on a patio covered by an overhang of a pitched roof. It seems more office or commercial. Inside now, the tattoo they are getting is just a jagged line. I see it on a piece of trace taped to another piece of paper and take out my pocket knife and begin to cut along the line. The trace keeps coming further than the other paper, but I’m really following the line pretty closely. Mom goes first now and grabs my hand as the female artist begins inking. It’s going on her ankle, and me and Makayla say how that is a painful spot (although I think I’m really thinking of the one behind my knee). I’m sitting right by mom, barefoot, with my legs stretched out. It’s like I am feeling the feeling of getting the tattoo too, I guess because I’m so close. I make a face and look at Makayla, a little excited at having this experience after a long time without it. When I look over, Mom is passed out, head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, and I shake her to wake her up. This happens one more time. We ask the artist to call a doctor, but she says she’s not sure if they’re taking anyone due to social distancing. She does fill a glove with water and give it to us. I pour some of it into Mom’s mouth but it just comically and exaggeratedly spurts back up and out. I know that Melissa and her mom are also getting matching tattoos: a lobster with heart shaped scales.




      I am in what seems to be an empty high school, on the second level. Julia from work is having me do something; it seems urgent, and I am taking it seriously. Then, she tells me it’s just been a prank, which I agree is pretty funny. I think it has something to do with a book. I end up taking the book home and reading it. It is a YA with a dark green cover and is definitely not something I’d read in real life. I think it’s about a baby or pregnancy. I’m reading it to humorously spite the prank, but it is actually kind of good. For some reason I started a little ways into the book, so now I’m going back to start from the beginning. I am outside on the lawn in the front of Mom’s, and it seems like a really nice summer evening.
    2. lxxxiii.

      by , 02-12-2020 at 11:40 PM
      Dreams that I made note of early today but that I'm only writing on the DJ here at night.



      Dream Fragment:


      Much longer than just this bit and a lot of detail is missing. Was with my family at some building, more specifically, with my parents and maybe siblings. We were there because of me, I was waiting to be given permission to use this facility's reactor-powered super-computer.

      One of mom's sisters (M) was there . H was there but was a blend between himself and my oldest sibling. I remember we were waiting in some sort of lobby. It was sunny, there was a lot of glass. It was a fairly modern-style building from what I can remember. Eventually, a woman came through into the room and requested my presence. I followed her and walked through some halls and then through a large indoors space, like an aircraft hangar or an industrial warehouse. When we were in one of these larger spaces, the woman, who I remember was formally dressed (i.e. had some sort of secretarial position), said that they were going to give me the OK to use their computer.

      Apparently I wanted to use this computer to "hack" some other reactor-powered super-computer of the same sort. In the dream I already knew I had permission from the owners of that second computer to do this. My reaction to when she gave me the OK was something of surprise and I felt happy. I told her I'd be right back and jogged back to the lobby quickly to grab a few things. Mostly some papers, A4 prints of the schematics for the other reactor? Looked like amplifier schematics like the ones I often see H use.

      In the dream I knew that some favour I pulled was responsible for the people who owned this place to allow me to do this, though there seemed to be no animosity with anyone and there was a calm and polite atmosphere.

      I remember there was a lot of dialogue in this dream but I remember very little of it in detail, usually one of the first things to get forgotten. I went back to the woman after grabbing the papers. I remember being shown into a room where I then used some sort of computer terminal and then gained physical access to the other computer's library. But it was literally and physically manifested in front of me, above the terminal.

      I looked through the books. I remember chatting to this lady since she was there to supervise me, mostly small talk. I couldn't remember which of these files (the books) that H was interested in, so for whatever reason I asked for someone to go and fetch my oldest sibling (L). L arrived and immediately recognised the book. L took it and I wondered how we'd return it, since I realised in that moment this was a one-time thing but we were still obliged to return the file.

      Then I said to L: "make sure you get everything you want, because we will never have access to this again." I remember thinking or feeling that the other books on that shelf were filled with irreplaceable knowledge.

      The dream went on for a bit but I don't remember much. Some visions of the reactors? I told the lady about how I got permission to do all of this.

      Dream Fragment:

      A different dream. In space, much shorter dream. Strategy game like Homeworld but could manage planets and space stations too. Mix of Freelancer too? Don't remember the visuals anymore. Woke up after this dream.

      Dream Fragment:

      Fell back asleep and recalled this single fragment. Was helping T build some sort of organ console. The console didn't look right. It was askew? But it was on purpose apparently. The manuals were angled at 90 degrees and sloped on a 30 degree arc. I remember this took place in T's room. There was a light on and the room was dark otherwise, somewhat as expected really.

      Mom was there, talking to T I think.


      Some notes:
      - I did remember more conversational detail when I woke up and wrote down the first dream on my phone but the memory has since long left as I finish writing this DJ entry.
      - The thing with the shelf and the books being the other computer's file system was very unusual. It was like an allegory, but somewhat unnecessary.
      - For whatever reason, these few dreams I had all had H, T and L mixed in some sense as if they were all the same character. Although I can draw some similarities between them, like the bookshelf thing, I'm not sure why it was almost made obvious in the dream. Normally my less conscious thoughts don't manifest themselves in dreams in such an obvious way, probably since I already recognise all these elements consciously anyway.
      - The secretary figure is starting to become a recurring dream character in a sense. Feels like a sort of formal projection, as a character, of what I would consider my anima to be. Last year there were some similar appearances. Usually black hair, tidy, possibly glasses and a smooth but not perfect face. A slight bit of attitude or something in body posture, but in a relaxed way. Takes herself seriously.
      - A note on the above; I have taken the Jungian archetypes into a sort of personally meaningful way as I do with symbols in general, so that they have specific meanings to myself, which are often a bit more distant from their original meanings. This accounts for why the appearance of these archetypes varies, sometimes dramatically. But the key identifier for them is usually that they are key characters in the dream and that they are not related to people I know, and seem to be more disjointed from the other characters in a dream, usually.
      - T's room was more or less as I remember last seeing it. The sense of any unpleasant smell didn't seem to be there, but I remember feeling uncomfortable being in the room.
    3. Tuesday, June 11

      by , 06-27-2019 at 08:58 PM
      (fragment) I am outside and walking along a thin dirt trail. It descends a short but steep incline, crosses what looks like a thin dry creek, and then ascends another hill. There is a lady coming down the incline opposite me. She stops and makes sure no one is coming before she crosses the dry creek. I see her do this and give her a thumbs up to let her know she’s clear. She then passes me and makes a rude, unjust comment about me doing that for her. Angry, I aggressively cuss her out. I don’t get why she would get angry over my doing that.



      (fragment) I am in a store and debating buying a book. It is a slender book of current need-to-know beers written by a woman. It seems too short, but I think it could be a good addition to my collection, especially since the small, yellowish sticker on it informs me that it’s only $1. I think I start off but then go back for it
      Categories
      Uncategorized
    4. 03 Jun: TV show on my late friend's house and storm back home

      by , 06-03-2019 at 02:20 PM (Lucid-schizo-dreamer)
      non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening


      A tv showing some house full of abandoned stuff, neighbors talking about the people who died or left, cops going around. They say they'll open up the house to people interested in taking things away. Me and mom apply. it's like a game, they choose people and divide into 4 family teams each with a coach / guide who explains the rules and guides us orderly into pre-selected divisions. We feel very anxious because there is a team who is being clearly favored, they are some 6 people and they are the first ones allowed in the house, while our coach is just stalling us with talk. We pressure her and she starts saying she will block us if we pressure her too much. She finally takes us to the living room and explains what we can take. We look around to choose because we can't take everything. I look at the bookshelf and see some books I really like, but leave it for the end. I'm certain the other contestants won't care about books. I find family pictures and realize our late friend's Nela family members and there's pictures of her so I grab all I can. I tell mom and she agrees the pics should stay with us.

      I am at home. Riverstone arrives. It's a summer storm like we never seen. Strong winds. I suspect by the sounds I hear that our gutters are not holding on. I check through the window and they break, ending up pieces on the roof and others on the ground. I go outside to pick it up but it's very dark, so I ask Riverstone for a flashlight. He hands me a wet sponge. I'm puzzled and say how did he heard sponge and why would I need a sponge? Then he goes back and brings the flashlight.
    5. 14 Mar: My guru makes me eat slimy creatures

      by , 03-14-2019 at 11:54 AM (Lucid-schizo-dreamer)
      non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening

      Rinpoche comes to meet me at a University library. We're supposed to do some research on some books he previously asked me to pick up. He holds my hand and kisses it. I go pick up some more books and I encounter some people, like Axman, who want to know what I am up to. I tell them I am with Rinpoche, they don't believe me. I don't care. But when I join Rinpoche at the table he is already surrounded by other students. I have to seat quietly at another table and just hand him the books. He marks down parts of texts for me. Then we all pack our bags and have to go, but I am not in a hurry, so we exchange some languish looks as we depart.
      Then a colleague comes to me with a video on her smartphone that she wants me to see, about some weird animal sanctuary. Then it becomes like a live hologram in my hands and I watch a nest of hatching eggs as if they are in my hands. Rinpoche comes to me and asks what it is. Then the hologram becomes real and he tells me to eat some of those eggs. First I say I don't want to, because it is some living beings,
      but then I realize it is all just a dream, so no harm will be done. The creatures coming out of the eggs are viscous and slimy with tentacles. He grabs a bunch of eggs with creatures coming out and puts them in my mouth. One I swallow immediately, then he says to chew on the rest which I do, it's kinda bitter and slimy, but I don't flinch and eventually I swallow it all.
    6. Monday, August 27

      by , 12-29-2018 at 02:35 AM
      I am seated in some restaurant at a longer table with some of the family. I look at the menu and the drink menu. A pudgy waiter comes over and takes Dad’s drink order. He then looks at me, but I haven’t decided yet. I ask if they have a porter or a stout. He says yes after I say ‘porter’ and then yes again to the stout. I ask for the stout. Dad, sitting across from me, has now done something that makes me extremely irritated. We have our food now, and I pick up my plate and beer and go sit at another table. I position myself so I’m mostly facing away from the other table. I can see Uncle Scott though, and he looks frustrated (possibly at me).




      I am outside with some others, walking through a rocky crevasse. You can tell that it’s been developed for climbing, and someone points this out. We now come to a spot that looks like it has not been developed. There is also a grey boulder that is maybe the size of a car, but disc shaped and levitating. There are thin branches or vines hanging from it, and I’m not sure how you’re supposed to climb it. There also seems to be some kind of energy force around the boulder. I walk under it and let myself fall backwards. The force supports me and slightly moves me. Now, it feels as if this must’ve been something I was reading, as I am closing a thin paperback. It was the end, and I know there is more, but I can’t find the sequel as I sort through books on a shelf.
    7. Cheerful “Helicopter”

      by , 11-19-2018 at 07:31 AM
      Morning of November 19, 2018. Monday.

      Dream #: 18,963-04 and # 18,963-05. Reading time: 42 sec. Readability score: 52.



      Having fallen asleep briefly while sitting on our couch, there is the usual natural melatonin trope of the illusory sound of splashing water. Someone unknown had thrown a hardcover book, and it breaks the surface of a pond. This autosymbolic event is a lifelong recurring process that encodes my liminal acknowledgment that the wakefulness required for the reading of a book is usually no longer present when sleeping.

      Later, while lying in our bed, an additional melatonin trope is present, this time as an upside-down surface of a water body about three feet above me (atypical). A whirlpool (vestibular nexus) forms. At the same time, I hear the sound of a helicopter rotor, though it is very soft and pleasant. It is as if a whirlpool and a helicopter rotor (without the helicopter present in this case) are the same. A hummingbird flies down from out of the “whirlpool” and cheerfully says “hi” in a young feminine voice (water nymph as shapeshifter) but as if the formant is a band higher. I am very amused by this brief encounter.


    8. dog from under the floorboards

      by , 08-21-2018 at 05:39 PM
      Morning of August 20, 2018. Monday.

      Reading time: 53 sec. Readability score: 74.



      I am closer to the liminal space of the waking process, but there are no threads of lucidity. My clueless infra-self is in bed at our present address.

      Threads of my conscious self do not make much effort to create detail. I see only an expanse of floorboards, implying a much larger area beyond our bed than exists in reality.

      Vague ideas about dogs and how they represent control of the dream state occur. (Again, I am not lucid, so this is infra-control.) A black dog’s head pushes up through the floorboards and moves left to right almost as if it is swimming like a person (as the other floorboards make way for it). I only ever see its front half. After a time, it becomes an unfamiliar man, seen from the chest up, who begins reading cheerful poetry from a small book he is holding.



      In real life, neighbors’ dogs sometimes used to run under our house and bump their heads against the bottoms of the floorboards (though now we have a fence across all areas). One of our cats was making noise under the house recently as well. The concept of reading (though usually regarding me trying to read) is an attempt to achieve more awareness while in the dream state. It is something I have practiced since early childhood.


      Updated 08-23-2018 at 04:29 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    9. Disappointment at the Library

      by , 05-31-2017 at 02:42 PM
      I was in a library. I found the book I wanted to read which had a title beginning with Z. There were also alcoholic beverages on the bookshelves. I chose a bottle labeled Heineken but it was clear liquid in a clear bottle so it actually looked like vodka. I was carrying my book and beer to the counter to checkout when a female librarian snatched the book from my hand for some reason. I think the reason was that the book was in the process of being banned from libraries and was inadvertently left on the shelf. I was wanting to drink my beer and read the book at the same time so the beer without the book was useless so I put it back on the shelf and left the library disappointed.
      Tags: beer, book, library
      Categories
      non-lucid
    10. Dream - Conscious Confusion

      by , 05-11-2017 at 09:17 AM
      Date of Dream: THU 11 MAY - 2017



      Dream No. 111 - Conscious Confusion

      I was in my backyard, holding a book of bound maths notes that I made in 2016 in real life. But then why I did I have a printed copy in my hands? WB had received them in real life via USB... Apparently I made this book (in the dream) for her sister LB and I printed it, intending for her to have a hard-copy. It was a close resemblance of the book in real life, the dream did give difference to a few small design features. In the dream, there was a strip of colour along the top and bottom of the pages, like a ribbon. I was going to use glitter glue for the page numbers but then I thought that I would be wasting the glitter glue if I used it all the way through.

      The dream then skipped to me being with a large amount of Killester girls that were preparing to get on the buses to go to the SCSA Athletics. Weirdly, the dress code was winter uniform. Someone came and looked at uniform and said I needed to do my blazer up. So I did up the two buttons but then this person came back and said it wasn't done up... I had to to a third one up. The girls were about to leave but I had to go to the bathroom. When in the bathroom, it looked all empty, especially for such a big space. The room was filled with a red-tiled floor and only a few small toilet cubicles, only varying a little bit in their size and shape.

      When I came out of the bathroom, I found myself in this wide, long corridor that was leading up to a lift... The lift door was open and WB was in it. I do remember the space of the lift being quite large, the walls were very white the the floor was a reddish-orange, velvet like material, almost like it was the inside of a house. I slowly approached the lift to try and get WB's attention but it was hard to do so as apparently someone else was in there, speaking to her. I got closer and at the same time, consciously asked myself, “Why aren't I getting scared?”. I kept trying to say hello to WB but kept getting no response. Eventually though, I was close enough and she heard me... She smiled and said hello back, and then I said to myself that I could head off.

      I ended up back at the area where the buses were supposed to be coming but this time, a group of girls were getting briefed by Mrs. G about Canberra camp. I ended up being in Mrs G's group who was going from the 10th to the 13th but discovered that I wasn't placed in a cabin yet. I asked my friend KH if I could be in her cabin but she said it was full. Then I discovered that Ms. L was taking a second group of girls to Canberra from the 12th to the 14th and noticed that WB was in that group... I thought to myself maybe I could get a cabin with her. That's all I remember.



      There will be a "Behind The Scenes" entry coming for this dream soon.
    11. The Book of Secrets

      by , 02-27-2017 at 09:13 PM
      27 Feb

      I'm in a room with lots of DCs. Some of them are leaving for an event. There are different kinds of chocolate boxes at a nearby counter. The DCs go to get chocolate, leaving a bit of a mess. I take couple of chocolates as well and consume them slowly. There's a particular idleness in my mind. I recall I was trying to fall asleep. Something tells me I can already act as if in the dream. I look around - indeed it's a dream. In still somewhat clouded awareness I recall about totm.

      This is now incorporated in the dream - there's a room where people do the current totm. It then changes to totm suggestions written on the door. Spellbee has suggested that we do programming def functions which appear on the door.

      My awareness increases and I now have greater clarity. I decide to leave this place and look for a window or door. I opt for the nearest door though a bit afraid I may end up in a labyrinth inside a building rather than outdoors. There's an unappealing old corridor with worn out walls. Luckily, after I reach its end is another door leading outside.

      I'm now walking near a wall, wondering what will be on the other side once I glance at it. A couple of blocks like those in my hometown appear. I stop to contemplate briefly on this entire process. How and why did these blocks appear, from all the possible items and images that could have been assembled. Did I think them up? Why precisely these objects and not something else. I stare in the distance ahead, thinking that I am not seeing images. What I am seeing are endless possibilities of what could be there.

      After the feeling of amazement has subsided a bit, I decide to get back to the totms. I am now on top of the wall and think about summoning the book of secrets from the basic task. To do so, I cover the top of the surface with my palm, moving it slowly to reveal the book behind. A red leather book promptly appears underneath with to my suprise the title Book of Secrets. It has relatively few pages and they are all leather. On the first browse there's a list of words with positive qualities or goals. One of the words is "innocent". I try to memorize two more words but forget them after wake. The entire book has a rather medieval appearance. The rest of the pages contain portraits of figures of importance like cardinals or archdukes. I browse one last time to find pictures of weird experiments that were done at the time. Some sort of medieval type of scientific research.


      Memory gap. There were several moments of the dream thinning out and me back to bed and back to dream, ruining coherent recall.

      The next scene I remember, I am still lucid and inside a room talking to a DC. I want to continue with totms and the task I recall next is the advanced one to change the weather. I confidently ask the DC for help - "There's something you can help me with. I know you can do this!" We are near a window and I can see the outside ground. It's not too evident which season it is - just bare ground, but I need it to be definitely winter.

      I turn my back so that I don't see the outside world but face the DC. She is looking outside and waves her hands around as if she is painting the snow. I then turn around and look again - now everything is covered with snow! Alright, now we need for spring or summer to come. I turn myself around and let the DC do her magic again. I look back and the snow-covered ground is now green grass. There's a weird bird resembling a toucan but much larger walking on the grass. Its beak is very unusual - a shiny green color. A closer look reveals that its beak is actually a purely reflective mirror-like surface and the green is just the grass being mirrored. Now there are several of these birds with shiny green beaks, black feathers with strangely warped structures. I am amazed at the kinds of stuff dreams can come up with.

      I take one last look at the weather transformation - despite the season change, it's still a bit dark and cloudy. To let the sunshine in, decide to get rid of the clouds. First, I stretch my arm and literally pick a few clouds from the sky as if they were nearby objects. Moreover, I get the sudden desire to try to blow the rest of the clouds away. I do it and it actually works! Now the scene is much brighter.

      The dream soon thins out and I feel my body once again. I fall asleep almost immediately and end up in another room. I feel this dream idleness which makes me realize I am still dreaming. I come up with a funny song and start dancing around while DCs stare at me.
      Pretty fast this time, the dream disappears, I feel my body once again and wake up.

      Updated 02-27-2017 at 09:20 PM by 61764

      Categories
      lucid , false awakening , memorable , task of the month
    12. Let's See What's in My Backpack! (DILD)

      by , 01-30-2017 at 05:58 PM
      Ritual: Woke at dawn after about 4–5 hours sleep and complex but dimly remembered dreams. Considered taking galantamine but decided against it, as my motivation was not sufficiently high. I didn't want to completely give up, so I took a quarter teaspoon each of piracetam and bacopa. Woke at 8am with dream.

      DILD, "Let's See What's in My Backpack!": I was walking through some type of institutional corridor when an odd plaque on the wall caught my attention. It was a rectangle of flat grey stone like slate, about a foot long and a few inches high, with block capital letters incised, reading: "AWAKEN."

      Like what, into a dream? I thought wryly. For that to work, I'd have to be... oh wow... am I dreaming? No sooner had the suspicion arose than I immediately recognized it to be true. I immediately went into dream observation mode, taking the plaque into my hands and examining its details.

      Feeling grateful that the dream itself had given me a clue as to its nature, I was reminded of a similar incident that had happened just earlier tonight: this was the second time I had gotten lucid due to events in the dream. A DC had said "lucid" and that had triggered me. No wait, actually it was the third time... I remembered briefly getting lucid in an even earlier dream, but I was embarrassed when I realized how quickly I had lost that awareness.

      Of course, the fascinating thing about these memories is that I have no way of knowing if they are real. I'm more than half inclined to think that they are false memories, the kind of deja vu that is so common in the dream state. Then again, I still forget such a great portion of a full night's dreaming, even now, that the possibility remains that these incidents actually occurred. There's no way of knowing for sure, which is interesting in itself. It is the perfect epistemological quandary.

      Now aware that I was dreaming, I continued walking through the institutional corridor, and felt that I had been walking through similar corridors in my just-remembered lucid episodes earlier tonight. If the memories are not false, there is nothing surprising about the coincidence: for some reason bland institutional corridors seem to be my default dream space.

      I wandered aimlessly for a bit—I think I passed a cafeteria—until I realized that if I wanted to stay lucid this time I would need to perform some deliberate action. During my WBTB I had not felt motivated to attempt any DV tasks, so that is probably why none occurred to me now. As I continued walking and wondering what to do I noticed a familiar sensation, and realized that I was wearing my backpack. Since 2001 I have been using the same leather backpack, seemingly indesctructible, every day at school and on every journey I travel. I was amused that it was with me even here in a dream, and surprised by how distinctly I could feel the impression of weight on my back. Wondering what might be in it, I realized that this could be a fun spontaneous task.

      I passed from the corridor into a very large rectangular room with walls tiled in squares of light blue glazed ceramic. The room was completely empty, with no features or furniture or people. I walked to the very center and announced loudly, even though no one was in sight: "Okay, everybody! I'm going to play the game of 'Let's See What's in My Backpack!'" I unslung the backpack from my shoulders and held it upside down, dumping its contents into a pile on the floor.

      The first thing I pulled off the pile was a winter jacket, made of smooth synthetic cloth with a quilted core. The inside was a rich royal blue, and the outside was bright red with black highlights. It was very clean and new, and resembled no jacket I have ever owned, nor would be likely to purchase.

      The second thing I picked up was a clear plastic bag with a zip lock, one of the medium-sized ones that is deeper than it is wide. It was full of coins. I looked more closely at the coins and it was clear that they were all Thai, though they resembled no WL Thai currency. "I wonder if I just got back from Thailand," I mused—meaning within the context of the dream.

      The next thing I grabbed was a plastic bag of similar shape and size, and this one also contained flat pieces of metal, but instead of being round like coins, these were engraved rectangular strips. I decided that they must be some decorative pieces I had picked up in Thailand. This idea had evidently taken hold, because the next few items in the pile were cheap Thai souvenir gifts, like decorative little pouches and other small assorted knickknacks. I set these aside impatiently.

      Next was a book, evidently a journal, titled A Wonderful Compendium of Lessons of Life Learned. I regret now that I was not inspired to open and read it! I must have figured that if the lessons were already learned, I wouldn't get anything new out of it. It did not occur to me that my waking mind might be really interested in what my dreaming mind might think to put in such a book.

      After this I pulled four different water bottles off the pile, one after another. One was a hot water bottle like you use in bed. One was military style canteen that I thought I recognized as one I used to own. Another was a flat drinking flask, fairly large in size. I think the last one was just an ordinary plastic bottle of water. My impression was that I needed all four bottles because they each served a different purpose: hot water for warming, cold water for drinking, warm water for drinking, and flask for drinking. But I realized that it was terribly inefficient to carry four separate water bottles, and I wondered if I could consolidate them down to just two, so I would have less to carry around. I decided to worry about that later.

      The last thing I pulled from the pile was a very large duffel bag, the size of the one I use to carry my HEMA gear. In WL my bag is plain black canvas, but this one was (not inappropriately) emblazoned with the Tournament of the Phoenix logo. It occurred to me that given how much stuff had been in my backpack, perhaps I should be using this duffel bag to carry it instead—but I remembered what a pain it was to lug around a huge unwieldy duffel bag, and decided to stick with the backpack.

      At this point a huge crowd of people suddenly thronged the room, all seemingly in a hurry to go somewhere, and they were sidestepping me and my stuff with annoyed expressions like I was in their way. "Hey! I claimed this space first," I protested. One DC paused to look at my Tournament of the Phoenix duffel bag and asked another DC standing across from me something about martial arts training in the area, talking right over my head (I was still sitting on the floor with my stuff). "You'd think you'd be asking the person with the duffel bag," I muttered, slightly miffed. I noticed that whereas I had initially occupied the very center of the room and had not moved, now I was all the way over near a side wall, and yes, right in the path that everyone was trying to walk through.

      I had time enough to wonder if I should wake and write or dream on a little. I decided the latter—I usually do—but found myself waking up anyway.
    13. Six Episodes (DILD + FA)

      by , 01-25-2017 at 06:26 PM
      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.

      Updated 01-25-2017 at 06:32 PM by 34973

      Categories
      lucid , false awakening , memorable , task of the month
    14. “Return of the Fairy Tale”, Reading Letters in Clayfield

      by , 01-05-2017 at 07:58 AM
      Morning of January 5, 2017. Thursday.



      My wife and family and I are living back on Gellibrand Street in Clayfield. When the mail goes, there are several items. I firstly focus on a large package.

      The package turns out to contain a book we did not order or expect to get, possibly because of being members of a book-of-the-month club. It is a very large and thick book with shiny gilded pages with the title of “Return of the Fairy Tale”. It seemingly includes fairy tales as well as poems and folk tales. I read one poem as our youngest daughter listens (though I cannot recall its content). I am not sure if we should keep the book as I seem to remember that Zsuzsanna has an older edition of the same book. We look for it and it is found near the bottom of her wardrobe. I ask her if we should keep the new edition we just received and it seems that we will. The older edition has a slightly different cover but is about the same size.

      After this, I go onto our porch to look at our other mail. There are two postcards from Margaret. In one, she starts off by talking about seeing her “pale face” looking back at her (from a mirror I assume). She writes that she is sorry to hear about my sister (Marilyn).

      Apparently, I had also written to a man in India of whom I had not written to in over twenty years. I had asked him about his address (which makes no sense because if I did not know his address he likely would not have gotten my letter). On his postcard, in somewhat sloppy handwriting, he only writes:

      “I do not remember my other address. I would like a comfy.”

      I am not sure what he means by “comfy”; if he means a footrest or some sort of apparel. (In real life years ago he had asked me to send him auto repair books and I did not have any.)

      I also notice a couple loose letters which are older love letters from Zsuzsanna though I am puzzled as to why they are with the recent mail. One letter includes a couple drawings. I had been sitting on the left end of the couch on the porch (liminal space) during this last segment.



      • The fifteen rupee tiger stamp is a sublimated coalescence prompt (as a tiger can swallow the dream self back into full consciousness) and additionally, mail usually symbolizes communication between the dream self and either the conscious self identity or the collective unconscious. Even so, and even containing the same dreaming and waking metaphors (and overall meaning) since earliest childhood, this dream’s rendering is unique.
      • Regardless of the nature of the book, a book usually links to conscious self identity (and critical thinking skills that are not wholly feasible in non-lucid dreams). Gilded pages relate to dawning awareness and sentience (as sunbeams coming in through a bedroom window).
      • The other book being in the wardrobe is a dream sign, as Zsuzsanna gets clothes from her wardrobe shortly after waking.
      • Most dreams, when waking prompts are not more direct or jolting, are to subliminally inform the dreamer to wake as in this case. This same “call to waking” (waking transition with waking metaphors) can be seen in tens of thousands of my dreams documented and studied over fifty years, and in very specific layered (redundant) ways (and often “no-brainers” that I easily grasped as a child).
      • Even “comfy” can be considered a dream sign, as it can refer to pillows and being in bed.
      • Even the line about not remembering the other address is a direct reference to the amnesic nature of the personified subconscious (dream self).



      Updated 01-05-2017 at 09:45 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    15. Old book, new book

      by , 01-05-2017 at 02:24 AM
      INT. CHILDHOOD HOME - DAY

      I'm reading an old ufo book that has been reprinted in a nice, leather-bound edition. But suddenly the front cover comes off and I see the broken binding. I plan to glue it back together.

      Updated 01-05-2017 at 02:28 AM by 92227

      Tags: aliens, book, ufo, ufology
      Categories
      non-lucid
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