• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    1. Sunday, July 14

      by , 07-24-2019 at 07:18 PM
      I am walking along the sidewalk through what seems like midtown closer to downtown, I think on my way to work. There is a brick building that appears to be a neat looking bookstore through the window. I decide to go in. Inside, it seems like mostly a large, square area with tall, wooden bookshelves. Many books seem to be facing out, their covers on display. I’m surprised and delighted by the selection of books about dreams, spirituality, etc. I am also holding a book that I think I’m returning. I make my way to the counter to wait. The apparent manager is an older middle aged lady that is currently talking with another woman or two. She gives the impression of being very kind and homey. She also has not noticed me or has disregarded me, but I find it hard to fault her as she seems to be in an engaged conversation with the other two. I check my phone for the time (:55?) and know I have to get going. I think I’ll have to come back sometime later.
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    2. More Than 21 Cats

      by , 03-28-2018 at 10:39 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      Last night, I once again found myself lucid, once again without being entirely sure how it happened. It felt like the dream was close to an hour long, although it was technically two dreams since there was a brief awakening and reentry in the middle. Because it was so long and I spent the whole thing just exploring the house I found myself in and messing around, it wouldn’t make for very interesting reading, and so I’ll just include a few highlights of it.

      -Finding a series of books entitled “More Than 21 Cats” on a bookshelf.

      -Devoting more attention than usual to maintaining awareness and focus. My lucid dreams almost always end with no warning whatsoever, and while I used to consider this something I couldn’t do much about, I’ve been wondering lately whether preventative stabilization might help. This intention seems to have carried over, and as the dream was longer than any I’ve had for a while, I’d call it a success.

      -Receiving a few gifts for no apparent reason from people who were around. I spent a good chunk of the dream opening them, resisting the urge to go off and do other things since it seemed like that would have been ungrateful, even if it was a dream.

      -Moving a wardrobe with my mind. I extended my hand, interfacing with it on a mental level—if that makes sense—and then pulled. And then I pushed it back.

      -Having the dream briefly interrupted by a message displayed over the scene as if it were a screen. It was a rather ominous message, but it seemed to have no immediate effect other than turning everything in the house green and shifting some of the furniture into new styles and/or positions. This may have been a direct result of moving the wardrobe as it happened shortly afterwards, and the last time I tried to control things in a lucid dream was also closely followed by something weird and threatening happening.

      -Two more visits to my M--- basement, the first before the green shift, the second afterwards to see if anything had changed. It had: the second version had a closed door where the tunnel often is in dream versions of it, as well a sort of workshop behind the same wall, visible through a couple small windows.

      -Lots of cats around, but probably less than 21.
    3. Total Freedom in Lucid Dreaming

      by , 09-19-2017 at 03:19 PM
      Morning of September 19, 2017. Tuesday.



      In the first part of my dream, in the first non-lucid segment, I am in a typical scenario where I am in a bookstore (or what is firstly perceived as one) and looking at various comic books and graphic novels. This goes on for a long time as I gather a stack together to keep. The books are unfamiliar, thus new to me, though some are implied to be older (as far back as the 1970s).

      At this stage, the personified preconscious is present as a younger unfamiliar male. Curiously, he is painting, as if there was also an art studio here. It is not much bigger than A4 size and lying on the table that I am sitting at eventually. It seems to be a landscape with flowers in the foreground.

      I tell him how I had painted, with a paint-by-number kit when I was a boy, two skulls. I explain how they were two singular portraits of skeletal pirates, shown from about the chest up. (This is based on a real-life event and thus atypically, is a real memory.) He said he had never heard of them. “Oh, they were quite popular,” I reply. I then go on to describe how my older brother Earl had started a very large paint-by-number of the Mona Lisa, but had never finished. (This was also a real event, from the early 1970s.)

      Eventually, I decide to walk out of what now seems like a second-hand store. I have a stack of graphic novels and comic books at least a foot high. However, it seems confused with the free bookstore, where (in real life) there is no one present other than the patrons and one is trusted to trade books of equal value on their own. A cashier, an older unfamiliar female, stops me by asking what I am doing. She is at a counter to my right. Apparently, I have to pay for the books, possibly a lot of money, which I do not have on me, which I tell her. I also protest in that I tell her I had left food on a previous visit. It does not seem to matter to her. I still apparently have to pay for these books now.

      I take out my wallet and the contents of my right pants pocket and see that I have only coins, which I place on the counter, which has now suddenly shifted to the opposite side of the room and farther back from the entrance of the store - a subliminally willed (non-lucid dream control) attempt at reinduction, that is, I had consciously but subliminally willed the counter back from my dream’s implied exit point as well as shifting it from the right to the left, as right is more typical of waking symbolism orientation. (The checkout of a store symbolizes a specific level of emergent consciousness as a common liminal space end marker in my dreams, fully understood as such since I was very young. This does not mean every dream ends shortly after a checkout is rendered, but it does indicate a precursor to an expected shift in consciousness, not necessarily full wakefulness, though that is often the case).

      The preconscious factors had transmuted from the artist (which symbolizes potential lucidity, though my non-lucid dream self does not realize this) to the elderly female cashier, though an unfamiliar male with a beard joins her on her right (the same orientation Zsuzsanna and I are presently sleeping in). The other male looks at my coins. Three of them are unusual in that they are mostly featureless other than having an embossed circle on them. “These are tally-hoes,” he says. This seems to mean that they may not be coins for buying something but possibly for use with public transport, or perhaps of little value. (Of course, “Tally-ho”, here an absentminded association with tallying up the total price as in “tally whole cost”, is here also a codeword for the waking transition analogous as the dream self hunting for the fox, which represents the precursor to coalescence back into conscious self identity and critical thinking skills or cleverness which the dream self does not typically possess.)

      From here, my mode of non-lucid dream control increments. I decide to leave the store with the books anyway, by teleporting and phasing through the entrance door without opening it (another form of subliminal reinduction, that is, even though I do not know I am dreaming, I deliberately manipulate it, a very common state of in-dream awareness for me).

      Still, they are heavy to carry, but I do not mind that much. It seems to be late at night. I notice that the moon is of an unusual appearance as a number of unusual clouds encircle it. The moon imagery is within the blue sky even though the rest of the sky is dark. Understanding that this image of the nighttime sky is absurd, I now become fully lucid and I decide to actively change and sustain my dream.

      The first act I perform is to joyfully throw my books onto the ground, as there is no sense in carrying them (or to be weighed down by them) in the dream state. I feel physically lighter and very happy to realize I am dreaming due to lifelong understanding of taking full conscious self advantage of this state. I enter apex lucidity and decide to create a park and have a sustained and augmented sexual encounter with Zsuzsanna. After this, I will it again. Parts of my body are “buzzing” with pleasure and our climaxes are extended (probably due to the Tetris effect from so many real-life events). However, I eventually shift into a different form of lucidity, where my dream is so realistic, that my dream self starts to question if my real physical body is somehow walking around (which of course is a ridiculous thought, but this has happened in past lucid dreams of a higher and sustained form), so I decide to initiate waking to find that I (that is, my sleeping physical body) had not moved at all. Still, there is something about the bliss, freedom, and even perceived safety of apex lucidity that is hard to describe.


      Updated 06-09-2018 at 06:31 AM by 1390

      Categories
      lucid
    4. The Tickle-Worm Dream

      by , 08-23-2017 at 03:37 PM
      07-27-2017 -- The Tickle-Worm. Dream starts out with me working as some sort of courier. I have stopped by a law office to pick up files to deliver somewhere, and they are a small pile of papers and a check that I have to take and place in an envelope (possibly re-useable) supplied for it. As I slide them in, the person there is telling me that there is no special hurry, and that I can take this and the one other package I currently have in either order, and I add in the instructions that I know are coming ... as long as I do not pick up any more on the way. This needs to get to their delivery spot quite quickly.

      Don't have any clue just how the scene reaches this next point, but I find myself in a hotel room somewhere with my dad. I have a small wooden box, slightly decorated, that I think may have been based on a box from a Harry Potter fan-fic I was reading last night, that in the fic was a sort of magical mail box. In the dream, it holds an unusual creature that I have somehow received ... a Tickle-Worm. The Tickle-Worm is a worm. It starts out looking mostly like a regular worm, with a slightly larger 'head' area that actually has a bit of a face, and is perhaps about 8 inches long. It springs out of its box, and is supposed to kind of half curl up in my hand and sleep there, as I go to sleep.

      The problem is, it seems to be curious and into exploring. As I go to lay down, it springs out of my hand and across the room, where it starts crawling around a book case, knocking books to the floor, and annoying my dad, who is trying to sleep. He's kind of upset about the thing making noise. That part I don't mind too much, but I do find it kind of irksome that it is knocking all of the Danny Dunn books off the shelves. I approach the bookcase, thinking I am going to have to kind of chase it around to try and catch it, but as I get close, it springs off the bookcase into my hand.

      I'm walking back toward the bed, hoping I can now get a little sleep, but as I draw near, it springs off again, flying into a slightly open chest filled with boxes of colorful breakfast cereals, again doing some exploring. The next thing I know, I am in some sort of classroom or scientific lab speaking with a female teacher or scientist, asking about the Tickle-Worm, and she is explaining where they are found. She shows me a large, octagonal aquarium filled with water and seaweed, but no fishes.

      This thing is probably about ten feet around, and perhaps four feet high, but weighs little enough that she can pick it up. Anyway, she picks it up and shows me a piece of seaweed that is long and wide and flat and thick (probably about four feet long, six inches wide, and about an inch thick) that is a slightly brownish green and now hanging from it is a tapeworm-like Tickle-Worm. Seems they start in sea water, but when removed, are perfectly fine.

      [I do not think I have ever heard the term Tickle-Worm before this dream, but looking it up on the internet, it seems it may be something created by a band I have never heard of, in a song that I also have never heard. How it came to be in my dream, I have less than no clue.]
    5. Criticized at School

      by , 07-24-2016 at 06:51 PM
      I took a swig of vodka form a bottle, a drink of some other alcohol, and poured a tiny bit of orange juice into a shot glass and drank it.

      Later:
      I was in a classroom sitting at a table with some old school friends. They were young teenagers, and I think I was too. Our teacher was my dog's previous Dog Trainer. She mentioned something about shrimp, directed at me, I said I didn't like shrimp. She said I should maybe 'open my mind more.' I was confused but just sat there. A pretty brunette girl walked into the room with another adult/teacher. My friends whispered to themselves and then told me that I would be like that girl if I was nice. I felt hurt, and told them that I had never been purposely mean to them and asked them what had I done to treat them poorly. I decided to get up and leave the classroom.

      I went outside of the building and sat on a ledge overlooking the street. I saw a boy from my childhood (dreamt about him not so long ago, but I never think or talk to him in waking life, wonder what he represents?) skateboarding down a hill.

      The next day I went back to class after grabbing a lot of books from my locker. At my seat in class there was an attendance slip with a sea foam green ribbon on it that said 'please see Julia.' I knew it was because I had left early yesterday. We had a test on yesterday's material and I knew I wouldn't pass.The teacher seemed concerned and irritated with me, and as I left asked me to please at lest consider going to the event on Saturday. I wasn't sure what she meant.

      Thoughts:
      I went for over 2 weeks without drinking and decided to buy some wine this weekend. I drank, but didn't enjoy it as much as I previously had and looked forward to the bottle being empty so I could start 'not drinking' again. Obviously still hooked enough to not want to pour it out.
    6. Two dreams and fragments

      by , 04-16-2016 at 03:57 PM (Keitorin's Dream Log)
      Fell asleep: 11:15 P.M.
      Woke: 8:15 A.M.

      8 hours 53 minutes sleep last night
      7 hours 17 minutes restful sleep
      1 hours 35 minutes restless sleep

      82 % restful sleep


      Dream 1:

      I was in a bookstore looking through the books. I got really lucky and found an m/m romance book, but it was volume 2. I looked through it and found BookCrossing.com labels EVERYWHERE. Mainly loose labels and papers about it.

      Unfortunately, I had added more books to my pile, and had sat the stack down briefly to keep looking. When I picked it back up, the volume was missing. :/ I remember complaining to someone (I think the shop owner, an elderly lady) but she wasn't helpful.

      I also remember someone helping me find a slim book I'd had but lost in the other books. They did find it and hand it to me.

      Jump.

      A little girl wants to buy this tub of garlic butter, but there's only a little left in it. I know I have some with more in it, so I go find it, but it turns out it's all dry and unusable. There was a bit more but I don't remember it, just that the shop owner was there.

      Dream 2:


      There was a guy imprisoned in a room. He was on a bunk-bed I believe. He climbed down and tried on a pair of dressy black feminine shoes that were on the floor, but they were way too big. He thought that if he had bigger feet like his friend, he could fit them. He put the shoes back down and got back on the bed. Some more guys entered the room, and he worried that they'd noticed he'd moved the shoes.

      The guys were talking about something, and one guy was reading something aloud or quoting something, and bunk-bed guy had to fill in the blanks. He filled it in with one of the nCrave cards on Swagbucks.com. Somehow it turned out to be a love confession, and the filled in name was one of the guys, which actually turned out to be true - one of these guys had given up on him, and now it seemed like the other guy was into him after he'd already given up hope.

      ~This dream was confusing not only because of the jumbled details, but because the characters seemed to be from Noblesse. Bunk bed guy was either Tao or M-21, and the guy with the big feet was M-24.

      Fragment 1: Sitting carefully on a ledge surrounded by buildings/ledges. Hearing a cat meowing and calling out to it. It somehow makes it to me. I think it was black.

      Fragment 2: Seeing someone in the store in their full pajamas.

      Wakeup times:
      2:15 A.M. for 10 minutes
      4:35 A.M. for a couple minutes
      5:00 A.M. for 15 minutes
    7. Dream & fragment

      by , 04-15-2016 at 07:22 PM (Keitorin's Dream Log)
      Fell asleep: 11:30 P.M. (with trazodone)
      Woke up: 9:02 A.M.

      9 hours 18 minutes sleep last night
      7 hours 38 minutes restful sleep
      1 hours 39 minutes restless sleep
      82 % restful sleep

      Dream: I was exploring a new house we were staying at, and I started finding secret doors, but they all just seemed to be alternate paths to other parts of the house until I found this one that led to a dark room. I tried turning on my activity watch's backlight but I don't know if it worked. Still, I could see better, as I spotted books on a table to the left. I could see that they were probably all just romance but I had to be certain, so I walked up to them and skimmed through them with my eyes. Yep, romance.

      At some point I realized this was just another familiar room, that it didn't maybe lead to someone else's house like I speculated after I heard a TV running. Then I realize that someone is coming over - dad. Not knowing what else to do, I waited until he was to my right and yelled "Boo!". He wasn't surprised, as usual.

      I'm exploring a specific section of the house. I'm crouched down on the floor looking in the nooks and crannies of a shelf or something, and there's a bunch of objects stuffed in there. There's a kid to my right and I realize it was probably him that did it. I pulled out a handful of writing utensils. Then I start looking for diapers, but all I find is toys and stuff.

      Fragment: Looking through a hidden house full of some kind of historical stuff packed away, a man discovers me, another pile of hidden stuff back outside near a tree.

      Wakeups:
      1:35 A.M. for 23 minutes
      3:45 A.M. for 16 minutes
      7:20 A.M. for 41 minutes
      9:02 A.M. for 15 minutes

      Updated 04-15-2016 at 07:30 PM by 20026

      Categories
      dream fragment , side notes , non-lucid
    8. [08-04-2016]

      by , 04-08-2016 at 09:25 PM (Snehk's Dreamlands)
      I was in my house, packing books into my backpack. Then I was in my school's toilet with bunch of classmates. A tall and slim dude in gray hoodie was writing something in his notebook. He looked like he was writing something really important. Later on I was sitting in a bus driving to my village. It was noon, the Sun was shining, beams of light gave some moody glow. We were driving through forest. I was sitting close to a girl wearing black jacket. She had dark hair, I avoided unnecessary contact and was just sitting, waiting for my station.
    9. Gotcha.

      by , 03-15-2016 at 07:32 PM (Here be dragons)
      I'm on the road in front of my house, but it looks different; there's a old tree without any leaves with its branches sweeping low over the road like crochety hands. I climb up along one until I reach the level right about the powers lines and jump into a fly. I loose control and go head over heels, landing in a heap in the middle of a grand library.
      It's beautiful. The shelves are carved like gentles waves, and the room is two floors high with a balcony running all around it. The room is lit by gaslights of copper and gold with frosted glass covering the flames, the warm almost buttery light gleaming of the polished wood of the shelves and floors. The glimpses of wall I can see are covered with dark green silk, matching the couch and armchairs placed around. At the far side of the library is a big fireplace, currently lit. The room smells sweet, of old books and beewax. There's an open door on a side, with moonlight peaking in.
      I walk to it and step into a covered terrace, all old stones. It opens into a very carefully lanscaped garden under a very bright, very big full moon. At the center of it there's a table dressed and ready, with crystal glasses, vermeil cutlery and candelabra. There are people already seated, dressed in finery of all period and fashion, having hushed conversations and eyeing the rest of the small crownd. I don't feel like joining them but come closer to the table to admire the carving on the cutlery. The guests whisper amoung themselves, making a point of not looking at me. I'm a little annoyed and start to walk around the table to go to the other side of the terrace, so I can access the garden. As I'm going I catch a glimpse of blond hair and turn my head; the silvery man is here, very smartly dressed, his hair brushed to fall on one of his shoulder while letting the line of his jaw free of distraction on the other side. It's slighty distracting, and he knows it. Noticing my presence, he change his course and come to me, easily taking my arm and pulling me to the end of the terrace, inside a small, narrow alley I didn't see earlier. There's ivy on the wall, up to a small alvove with what seem to be an old pedestal on the ground. He pulls me in, leaning against the wall with a impish smile. I cross my arms in front of me, too amused to be annoyed... and wake up.
    10. Tipping a Boxcar for Books

      by , 02-18-2016 at 08:18 AM
      Morning of February 18, 2016. Thursday.



      In my dream, I seem to be in an area that is loosely modeled after my Cubitis home (where I have not lived since 1978, yet my dream self sees it as my present home), at least regarding the large backyard and the railroad tracks behind it (to the east) but there are differences. It seems to be late at night and yet there are short time periods where I can clearly see the covers of books. On at least two occasions, I also notice unknown trucks parked in what would be the backyard.

      I go near the railroad tracks and notice a shallow cardboard box filled with old How and Why Wonder Books that appears to have been put out by an unknown neighbor farther south, but the majority do not look like any of the ones I had in real life as a boy. However, “Coins and Currency”, which is one I did have, is near the top, but the cover is very worn. There are other books in the box in addition to the How and Why Wonder Books, including magazines and comic books. I think about taking them, as they had been discarded. Still, it is an unusual place to put presumed rubbish, as there is no pick up there (or rather, never was in real life) other than for the train to collect and take to the dump as my dream self reasons. A lifelong dream-related focus of a train taking large amounts of possibly valuable refuse to a landfill (or sometimes a warehouse where it is apparently sorted), usually northward, is a curious recurring theme.

      I am on the railroad tracks for a time (remaining on the west side of them) but I am aware that a train is approaching from the south. I feel the vibrations and expect it to be carrying a lot of printed materials to a landfill, which enhances my curiosity about possibly attaining interesting books. Oddly, it turns out to be one boxcar moving down the track (with no discernible method of locomotion). It passes me, but when it starts to go through a tunnel (not a real-life feature) on the opposite side of our backyard, to the north, it somehow gets jammed in. I am somehow able to move it back out, as it seems very light. It falls off the railroad tracks directly into the living room of the house, which establishes consciously unresolvable ambiguity as to whether I am in an outdoor or indoor setting. (In real life, there was considerable distance from the railroad tracks to the house.)

      I see various books inside the boxcar, which now seems only about half the size it had been previously. It is not only very light but starts to bend slightly, like thin aluminum. I notice a “Tom and Jerry” storybook with perhaps one small black and white drawing per page. I also notice two Nancy and Sluggo comic strip collections in book form. There are still a number of other books inside the boxcar as I tip it upside-down, some of the contents spilling onto the living room floor.

      Two unknown men eventually appear and it seems as if they had been moving the boxcar down the tracks even though they were not seen until this point. They seem puzzled about the details concerning the wreck. They are not angry and seem friendly as I tell them that I hope to keep what I want from the boxcar. I even offer to pay for the contents (only because they showed up and I do not want to be seen as a thief) and the man to my right gives me a puzzled look as if there would be no need. (In the last stage, there is a vague sense of bilocation when the Cubitis living room is associated with the kitchen of our present home and the vague awareness of my real physical body in bed to my right, though there is also a vague awareness of one step leading up to it between the kitchen and where our bed is, a step or staircase symbolizing an increase of neural activity to eventually establish wakeful consciousness.)



      This dream seems to have been at least partly influenced by having reviewed and written about a childhood dream from 1967 (“Battle atop Boxes on a Boxcar”).



      A train is typically relevant to the dynamics of the dream state, not waking life. Here, it can be validated that I had threads of subliminal lucidity (unaware of being in a dream but still with influence and control). This is why my dream self was able to stop the boxcar (subliminally willing it to become stuck in the tunnel) and attain full control of it despite the size and weight. The preconscious and my emergent consciousness show up in the last scene as potential waking initiators, which is also unrelated to waking life as it is a common dream state component in case I indulge in a dream for too long (in which case the preconscious would become aggressive or more dominant, as waking up is a biological necessity).



      Resupplemented and minimally expanded on Thursday, 17 August 2017, due to seeing no evidence of public understanding of dreams or the dream state.


    11. Book Titles and a Headstone (WILD)

      by , 01-20-2016 at 08:58 PM
      Ritual: Last night's moment of lucidity made me crave good dreaming again, but I woke up after six hours with nothing but a few shreds of bland and wan memory. Determined to do better, I dug out the silent vibrating alarm I was using last year for my DEILD experiments and strapped it to my wrist. I set the timer for 33 minutes at first, so I would likely be asleep by the time it went off, but after lying awake for about half that time reset it for 17 minutes. I reminded myself that it would be fine if I was still awake when it went off, a good opportunity to re-familiarize myself with the sensation I was anticipating and to RC. I did feel the pulse once before I fell asleep; afterwards, given that another 45 minutes went by before I woke up, it must have gone off a couple times that I didn't notice. However, I did get lucid, even though the timing suggests that the onset was not triggered by the vibration, because when I finally woke up the alarm was 30 seconds from going off again, and I don't think the dream lasted that long (though I could be wrong about that). This would be consistent with my other experiments with this technique: it works, but not in the way one might expect. Rather than directly inducing an awareness of the dream state with its signal, it seems to be rather that the anticipation of the alarm serves as an anchor for the attention that makes it easier to transition directly into dream. Consequently, rather than a DILD I had a WILD.

      I knew I must have transitioned when I realized I was holding a piece of paper in my hands. I used the paper to better integrate by running it between my fingers and being attentive to the lifelike sensations. They were vivid enough that I figured I should just get up out of bed, even though my vision hadn't kicked in fully yet and everything was dim and blurry. Since there are bookcases right next to my bed in WL and my intention was to do this month's Basic Task i, the moment I was on my feet I started examining the books. My vision was no better overall, but I could see well enough in the area of my primary focus. Reading was surprisingly easy as well, although the words themselves did not always remain stable, sometimes changing into new ones right before my eyes.

      I read a half dozen book titles right away, some better than others, but none so striking that I felt like putting special effort into memorizing them. I hoped a few might stick with me naturally, but unfortunately I didn't remember any of them on waking. After browsing the books in the bedroom for a while, I moved out to the kitchen, where I have more bookshelves (there are books almost everywhere in my house). I continued reading titles, trying to find a really good one for the task. Finally after moving on to a second shelf in the kitchen I found what I was looking for. The book was a slim hardcover, about 9"x11" and 3/4 inch thick. The cover had a glossy sheen and was white in the upper half and a darker color, grey perhaps, in the lower half. In the very center, where the colors met, was the word: "REVOLIOTUN" in red and black stylized capital letters. I took note of how it appeared to be the word "revolution" with some of the letters transposed. I wasn't sure if this was part of the title or designated something else, like the series, publisher, or maybe just a cover design, since the actual title seemed to be printed below this in the lower half of the cover. The title was David Bowie's Dreams: Naked in Flight. This tickled me, especially given his recent passing, and I knew it was the one I wanted to bring back for the task.

      I set my mind on remembering that book, but glanced at a few more for good measure. There was one small paperback titled Blue Skulls Book that struck me, but that's the only other title I can remember.

      Now that I had completed the task, I wondered if I should wake and write immediately, but it seemed a waste of good dream state. Was it really that good, though? My vision was still terrible. "Then maybe I should work on that," I told myself reprovingly. So I looked out the kitchen window and tried to clean up my vision. "Just open your eyes," I instructed myself. "But be careful not to open your real eyes!" I actually did have a sensation like my eyes were opening, and suddenly my vision cleared up beautifully! I looked out the window and was startled by the amazing color and clarity of the landscape, a wide grassy expanse bordered by distant hills, so unlike my actual concrete pool patio. The vision from my left eye was perfect, but my right eye faded in and out: it kept feeling like something was covering it, which I tried to brush away with my fingers as though it were an errant lock of hair. I realized that it was probably the bleedthrough sensation from the way my face was pressed into my pillow (I was able to confirm this on waking) and decided I'd better do my best to ignore it.

      The beauty of the outdoors lured me, so I stepped through the sliding screen door into this marvelous dreamscape, and immediately felt my heart fill with joy. I wondered if I should plan to do anything in particular, but decided no, it was enough just to look around and drink in the sights, now that I could see so clearly. As I moved over the ground, I was more dancing than walking for the sheer pleasure of it. Momentarily I wondered if I should be careful not to accidently blunder into any WL obstacles I couldn't see, but then had to remind myself, this isn't like google cardboard: I'm not just surrounded by an illusory overlay on the real world, this is a whole world in its own right.

      "This is my favorite world!" I murmured in fervent appreciation, then caught myself. That seemed like a radical statement. Was it really true? I reflected for a moment and had to admit that it was. I felt a bit sorry for the real world—how could it compare to this? As I looked around, marveling at the beauty of my surroundings, my eye was caught by a brighter spot in the dream sky, a white disk surrounded by intensified illumination, like the sun filtering through a haze. For some reason this struck me as remarkable, and I thought back and couldn't remember ever seeing a sun in my dream sky before. Unlike the unpleasant brightness of the real sun, this one I could gaze at directly.

      I wandered across the lawn until I discovered a large headstone. It had the traditional rounded shape but was very wide, maybe three or four feet tall and five or six in width. I was pleased to discover that I could read the chiseled inscription very clearly: "THE EARLY DEATHS OF BLAKE GRACE." The name meant nothing to me, but what particularly caught my attention was the plural, "deaths." How could he or she have died more than once? Oh well, in the dream world, I suppose anything is possible.

      Encountering the tombstone hadn't diminished my joy in the slightest. I still felt radiantly happy, even when I glanced down and noticed that I was standing on a carved piece of stone that covered the grave itself, like the lid of a sarcophagus. "I hope I'm not disturbing the inhabitant!" I thought amiably, and stepped off the stone, watching closely to see if it would move, on the off-chance that the corpse might decide to rise from the grave in indignation. Even this possibility did not dampen my mood; I felt fully capable of dealing with such an eventuality, should it occur. But the dead slept. I felt compassion for the person buried here and thought I should make up for my accidental insult by doing something to honor the grave. In the hollow of one of the carvings toward the foot of the stone was an accumulation of gravel on which an uprooted mushroom was lying. I picked up the mushroom and tried to set it upright, pushing the stem into the gravel to help it stand up. The surface of the mushroom was starting to rot, but the sight filled me with a sense of tender compassion, much like the grave itself.

      After this I decided that it was probably time to wake up, since I didn't want to risk wandering off and forgetting the book title and the engraving on the headstone. Since I was waking myself up deliberately, I was able to get ready and do it in a very controlled way. As the dream began to fade into void, I grabbed a pen and got ready to start writing in the notebook next to my bed the moment I transitioned, until I realized how ridiculous this was. There was no point in picking up a dream pen—it wouldn't save me any time—I would still have to move my physical arm and grab the physical pen once I actually woke up! What a hassle!

      Updated 01-20-2016 at 09:04 PM by 34973

      Categories
      lucid , task of the month
    12. 241115: A Serene House in the Forest, A Mathematical Series in my Grandparent's Old House.

      by , 11-24-2015 at 07:18 PM (The Dream Journal)
      I'm walking in a deep hilly wooded area on a grey day. There is a lake to my left. There are large lumps of tree roots on the surface of the ground and I trip over them. I make my way to a house, it looks modern and is very solitary, no other house in sight, as if it was right in the middle of a little depression in the ground. Looks like a safe place.

      I go inside and it is fairly dim inside as only a bluish grey light comes through the shaded windows. It give the whole house a mystical and serene feeling, hard to explain. A lamp is in the corner, it looks very fancy and modern in design gives a little more of a golden lighting deeper in the house. There is something oddly satisfying being here, safe, serene, a mindset like something remembered in childhood.

      I'm in my grandparent's old place. In the kitchen, all the lights are on, I see a mosaic decorative plate on the wall. It's like all the other decorative things they have on the wall. There are three tiles on it that stand out, the rest have fallen away. They look a bit like hexagons, one has a large "C" on it, meaning a complex number. One tile is touching it on its left, the other tile is one space away from the "C" tile on the right, not touching it. I look at it and it is supposed to show a mathematical number sequence that has something to do with complex numbers. I try to think what it could mean, I think the terms of the series can tessellate the whole plate. I hear in my mind "only a fool adds them together...".

      In the bathroom, out the window I see one of my friends and his friend have arrived by car. What are they doing all the way up here?

      I have to give a presentation of a subject of my choice. I use my sister's computer to look for some information of Kendrick Lamar, I type his name into Google. I can't find enough information, at least not enough for me to want to confidently present anything.

      It's dark outside, I'm standing by the large show window of a bookstore, there is a golden orange light coming from it, fancy, brown wooden shelves have books on them. I think of doing my presentation of Satanism and the occult, I begin to notice books with those words on the spines on the shelves. Is it too edgey?

      I wake up through the night, feeling sick and disorientated.
    13. Five Books about a (Fictional) Remake

      by , 11-19-2015 at 05:19 PM
      Morning of November 19, 2015. Thursday.



      Notas: Cinco libros, todo sobre una nueva versión de la película de 1962 - “Cinco semanas en globo”, con el actor Johnny Depp.



      I am at my sister’s house yet again (on Loomis Street). This sometimes triggers apex lucidity (especially in the situations where she and Bob are leaving the house as here and appearing as if it is the 1970s), though not in this case. I become more aware and focused on the setting as my sister Marilyn and her husband are going out (possibly to a restaurant). It seems to be early in the evening (near sunset).

      There is a certain level of expectancy regarding semi-lucidity (as if I am “testing” the setting though not fully aware yet that the setting is of a dream). I keep seeing a teenage version of my wife Zsuzsanna to the north, the left side of the house when looking out at the small front sidewalk perpendicular to the street. Strangely, I know who she is on some levels, though not on others. Still, we hug each other and begin to converse.

      After a short time though, I lose focus (possibly due to a noise in my real environment). Eventually, there is an elderly male in the same general area. He seems argumentative. I tell him that he is not invited into the house and that I will “break his head” if he insists on following me.

      Eventually, I am looking at five books on the couch, at least three of them paperbacks and each in one of at least three different Languages (English, Russian or possibly Bulgarian Cyrillic, and Spanish - though one also seems Italian - “5 settimane in pallone”). If Russian, it is ambiguous, as the first word would translate as “pet” (only if anglicized) and only “five” if Bulgarian. (Otherwise, I get a strange impression of a movie about a dog, a rooster, a cat, and a few other animals traveling around the world in a balloon as a parody to “The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly” theme - with the rooster crowing, followed by the cat’s “meow meow meow”, then the dogs barking rhythmically in the background; “WOOF, woof woof, WOOF, woof woof.)

      Even so, the books are also all apparently different in the story itself (one being almost like an episode of "Gunsmoke” or perhaps more so “Wild Wild West”), even though all are a supposed novelization of a remake of “Five Weeks in a Balloon”, starring Johnny Depp. However, one (unknown?) actor on one cover looks like he is only pretending to be Johnny Depp in a copycat version of the remake. I have a very strange feeling of enjoyment in anticipation of reading all the books, even expecting completely different stories or plot developments in each. However, my dream fades before I am able to read much.



      I sincerely doubt if Johnny Depp will be in a remake of “Five Weeks in a Balloon”. If so, you read it here first.

      Updated 07-23-2016 at 01:16 PM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    14. 091015: On the brink of lucidity, tuning a car radio/TV, psychonautics manuals.

      by , 10-09-2015 at 04:10 PM (The Dream Journal)
      All these are fragments.

      In the dark, I realize that I'm asleep. I see only darkness. The state I'm in is very fragile, I spin in a circle to try to stabilize the dream but then darkness swallows me whole and no memory remains.

      I'm in a car going down a desert road on a grey day. I'm tuning a car radio. It has a small TV screen. I see Christina Aguilera on the TV screen. She is on the panel of a talent show. She begins to suck on the microphone stand in front of her on the desk very suggestively. All I can think is that the microphone stand must be pretty dirty, why put it in her mouth? For the shock appeal?

      I'm in a cabin kind of place, although the place looks pretty modern. On the floor I find three colorful manuals on psychonautics, they look very interesting. I take them with me and put them in a black velvet bag. My trip to the outskirts of society won't be boring after all, I am sure to learn some very interesting skills.

      Updated 10-11-2015 at 09:38 AM by 80544

      Categories
      lucid , dream fragment
    15. 240915: A new amusement park ride, stand up to a gang, labyrinth McDonald's.

      by , 09-24-2015 at 07:05 AM (The Dream Journal)
      Fragments

      I see a line for a new amusement park ride, it's a grey day. The ride looks like a shifting, neon pink floor. It shifts to the sides and people have to balance as they walk through. It looks like it would be bad for my knees. I see a creepy, middle-aged guy in the line among all the kids. Is he a predator? People swarm around him and he reluctantly walks away.

      A vague memory of being told, or maybe just realizing; this is your dream character you must remember. (!)

      I'm enter a bookstore in a modern shopping mall. I'm waiting for a friend to finish looking through the books by a shelf on the wall. It's as if the mob is now here and has singled out a guy I know from school claiming he stole a book, it's even a book he already owns apparently. He is angry and yells he did nothing. The gang hones in with a sense of righteous indignation. I try to pull them off, this is not the way to handle this. I'm scared of being swept up in the fury.

      Suddenly outside the bookstore in the hall of the mall, the guy pulls out the book and shows he paid for it, the sales rack outside has the right price on it. People drift away shamefully. I know they blamed him only based on how he looks, very rough and tumble. A guy who was in the mob who I tired to stop awkwardly tries to start small talk by a sales shelf, says everyone's a but hungover today. I just nod and say "yeah".

      Back in the bookstore, I wait for my friend again. I see a man dressed in an elaborate steampunk style. I see some old Penguin classics on sale, 3 for 1.

      With another friend I walk away from the store down the halls of the mall. I mention the books I bought and I offer to give her one. She says she would rather have a 10€ gift card to somewhere. We enter an elevator and as we press the button to go to the top floor the elevator goes so fast that everything shifts and smears. The doors open and there is only an overflowing trash can with a McDonald's employee trying to empty it. The doors close and we go down a floor. The elevator opens again and we see the same scene. Immediately there is a weird sense, how can this be? We turn to each other and then turn back and see that we are on a new floor, the trash can and employee (who was looking very stern) are gone. Weirdness. We get off to try to get into the restaurant proper.
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