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    1. Romanticization and ugliness

      by , 02-27-2015 at 11:01 PM
      I'm in a garden, speaking in Russian with a very old human man in a wheelchair. We have an arrangement. I'm to kill him, but as he puts it, without ugliness. That he wants his death to be smooth, I have no problem with, but this ugliness he's referring to isn't about his own death, it's about preserving his image of me, or rather what I represent to him. He says I'm a man who should understand this, unlike that brother of mine - he uses a word that my dream doesn't bother to translate aside from noting that it's uncomplimentary. The old man wants to believe in the existence of a creature that's above all the things he dislikes in humanity, an embodiment of death without ugliness. I'm disgusted and feel illogically betrayed by hearing this from him, a man more intimately acquainted with violence than any human I've ever known - he of all people shouldn't have any illusions about this. It's hypocrisy.

      As he talks we move indoors, to a dimly-lit room that's kept very cold. He has a selection of alcohol lined up before a mirror, and I go to pour him a glass; as I do so I see a small portrait of a blonde woman, which I pick up. A woman who works for him, who's been pushing his wheelchair, urgently asks me to be careful with that. I recognize the image as his granddaughter - she's how I met him in the first place, years back. He laughs and corrects me, and he says this in English: "Vivian. Her mother." This startles me, and I examine the portrait again - I would never have guessed they weren't the same person. Her mother had died before I met her.

      (Woke up. Back to sleep.)

      While using a spell to pull out some relevant books and scrolls from a collection, one of the books that comes to me is titled "The Unbeauty of Life," by a Japanese author.

      I'm running up several flights of stairs, spiraling upward through a ruined building, piles of rubble around; I should have fled the building with the others when I reached the first floor but instead I kept going upward, thinking of the woman I'd originally come here to track down. As I reach the upper levels I find her laboratory, with her books scattered on the floor, sarcophagi in rows. The next level above that is devoted to "the theatrical vampire," complete with red stage curtains hanging on the wall, full of what I think of as romanticized images from stage and screen, and as I look at it I remember the sound of her laughing. There's one more floor above this.

      Updated 02-27-2015 at 11:10 PM by 64691

    2. Archery Lessons and the Planetarium

      by , 02-06-2015 at 05:58 PM (Lucid Time!)
      I had signed up to do archery lessons somewhere. In order to pay for the lesson I had to help the person who owned the archery range judge the value of another peice of property they owned. It had to be worth at least $40k.

      On it was this huge building. In it was this hemispherical room. The walls were covered with bookshelves curving up to the ceiling. (How the books didn't slide off of the upper shelves is beyond me.) There was also this huge bronze/golden contraption that showed the alignments of the planets in some alien solar system.

      There were escalators in the building. I think one of them got broken, however.
    3. 15 Jan 2015: A witch sabotaging a factory.

      by , 01-16-2015 at 05:19 AM
      The dream started at a small town similar to the Team Fortress 2 map "2fort". A male character did some (four) good deeds there and thought of going to a bigger place to do more good deeds, and he went on a path. At some point I saw some cartoon-like character who looked like a plump, olive-green skinned and more expensively dressed guy who had some companion that may have been a dog and who was in a room with books underground.

      The man who did good deeds went past a scarecrow character (Note: I saw the scarecrow much later. More on that in a bit.) and the next part I recall the most of is seeing a very wide plane of green land with a factory on it. Someone was wondering what was inside the tall factory, and I later saw inside it: Somehow, the factory was being sabotaged. I saw one case of sabotage and then later, I saw another: Inside a room some equipment was damaged and somehow either the machines were used for honey or they were damaged by bees; I saw some (but few) bees flying around in the room once the people inside the room (I think) tried to use the machines.

      Later I saw someone going back towards the place where the town mentioned earlier was located. He got close to a scarecrow.

      Later, I saw a witch touch a character who was walking out the door with her mouth and then I saw another character touch the witch and promptly turn into the same plump olive-green skinned character I mentioned earlier, only he wasn't himself. The same character then said he was reading ridiculous books and this part is a bit sketchy: I'm not sure if he was just talking about one book or more than one but he said something like "like about Polygamy?" and I consciously didn't even know the definition of that word when I had this dream, to my recollection.

      I posthumously figured that the witch was turning the employees under her witchcraft to sabotage the factory's machines, though I didn't really directly see it.

      Updated 01-06-2016 at 04:36 PM by 61868

    4. Silly telekinesis again

      by , 12-08-2014 at 09:44 AM
      Morning of December 8, 2014. Monday.

      I believe it is in the morning, possibly about nine o'clock. I am not sure of the location. There is a chair full of textbooks, notebooks, papers, and possibly other printed materials. I seem to be seated at least five feet away from this other chair.

      Over time, fully convinced I am awake, I start to try to will a folded piece of paper on the top of the stack to move. There is a sense of control and “connection” somehow, though it is very slight. The piece of paper actually slides to the left and flies across the room to land on the floor. My mother makes an appearance a couple of times, and strangely enough, this seems normal to me (she died years ago, in fact).

      Even though my telekinesis dreams are so vivid and lifelike otherwise, I rarely get the hint or idea that I am dreaming. In fact, I usually wake from such dreams with a sense of disappointment (as well as feeling slightly foolish). This, and being able to hover and fly about in a fetal position, is a very common in-dream ability. The hovering, however, sometimes triggers vivid lucidity.

      I am contemplating the nature of my seemingly new ability and try several more times after putting the folded paper back. It works each time, and the paper slides and flies to the left of the room in the same way. At one point, I have a vague idea that the event might have been caused by the wind, but this is not the case. I am able to perform telekinesis a few more times.

      Finally, I decide to try it on something else. I look at the dining room table and notice a few clothes scattered over it. There is an empty cola can sitting near the edge. I will the can to slide towards me and fall off the table but then fly into my hand (as is common in such dreams). However, I soon wake and wonder how I did not detect it was a dream.
    5. Bookselling, thrones

      by , 11-24-2014 at 09:18 PM
      There's a monk who needs to buy a certain rare, extremely expensive book, and he intends to raise the money by selling off a different rare book. He can't do this himself, so he sends a fox demon to take care of it. She can't read the script it's written in, but she compares the characters he wrote down for her with the characters written on the covers of his books, and she eventually finds the right one and takes it to a fair that's going on. There are many specialists here who'd give her a good price for the book, but she goes to a bookseller she recognizes, a place she's been to many times. This man doesn't know the values of things, so he gives her very little for it - it's the equivalent of buying a book for a dollar when it should be worth millions.

      The monk's disappointed - not in her, but because the book's gone and he'll have to start over in terms of raising the money. The fox demon gets annoyed at him for what she perceives as insulting the bookseller - she thinks the bookseller is a very good man, since he's sold her many novels for very little money. The monk is thinking about how much he looks forward to the end of his life, except that he's concerned about how she'll survive.

      (Woke up. Back to sleep.)

      I'm speaking German with a man who'd promised to (acquire or translate or something similar) a certain book, but now he's fleeing and has to go back on his part of our deal. I don't really mind.

      Two paired images of people on thrones. The first is a blonde woman dressed in gold robes, surrounded by abstract shapes woven out of gold wires, on a balcony overlooking beautiful green fields, rivers, wide blue sky. She's saying, amused, that although she was meant to be associated with style and worldliness, instead "I'm merely back in the desert, healing women at an oasis."

      The second, a sad and tired-looking long-haired old man, first in a dark wooden room full of cabinets and herbs, then overlooking a mountain. A pair of ravens leave him and fly up the mountain over a trail, croaking - grey stone, grey skies.

      (Woke up. Back to sleep.)

      Two fragments:

      I'm trying to convince the radio to put out an important broadcast to keep people out of the (either Dallas or Houston) area, it's an emergency, but they refuse to disrupt the normal services.

      A man saying to me, "You're afraid that this is the real world. It is. I trust you."
    6. Just dance!

      by , 11-07-2014 at 02:53 AM (Keitorin's Dream Log)
      I’m standing on my tippy-toes up on my bed reaching for something (on the ceiling fan?), wearing the same thing I went to sleep in - my Superman logo shirt.

      I come to realize that I’m awake and really am standing on my bed. I wobble back down, feeling confused, before I craw back under the cover and go back to sleep.

      Hanging around a house. There’s an autistic boy and his cat. The cat is super friendly, I remember petting it when it snuggled against me.

      I played a Pokemon game with him.

      I looked in a bottom drawer of something at three of his books.


      I’m on a porch with a roof with him. We suddenly burst into dance with some music playing. I’m really letting loose, doing all kinds of moves including some flips, which is dangerous because I’m wearing the same clothes as IWL, a white shirt with a butterfly on it and a very long, wavy blue skirt.

      We finish, and a group of elderly people pop up outside the windows of the porch that weren’t there before. I realize that we had probably disturbed them, our neighbors, with our noise.

      But then suddenly they break out into a choreographed dance! But then when I look at them, there are also mid-aged clones of the same chubby guy. I think how vigorous the dancing is, and how good it would be for losing weight. I turn and ask “How often do they do this?’

      After they’re done, one of them hands me a PaperBackSwap book in the default white wrapper. I get excited and open it, but unfold a piece of paper from it. It’s a notice that I’d have to go pick it up since I missed the delivery.

      It says I actually have to go to their house to get the book, which I think is bullcrap. Part of the address has ‘Metville’ in it although I remember thinking upon recalling it that it was something else. There was also something written in big print letters on a black square.

      Inspirations: I got a PBS book recently, the notice might have been because I was worried about getting my credit for sending off a book. Pokemon from reading past dream entries. Where did the dancing come from?? Need.more.dancing! Waait the dancing may have been inspired by a mod for Dragon Age: Origins! Yesterday I had everyone dance to a folk song in Camp. Chubby guys most likely from The Biggest Loser, since I had just looked at my paper and saw it was coming on the next night.

      Updated 03-13-2015 at 04:37 PM by 20026

      non-lucid , side notes
    7. Recurring DCs as characters in a book

      by , 09-27-2014 at 06:17 PM
      I'm reading a book. There had been a series I'd loved that ended some years ago, and now the authors have put out a new prequel series featuring some of the side characters - one of them is the Magician.

      Scene changes slightly - instead of just seeing words on a page, I'm now seeing the scene described in the book. The Magician and Julie are having a standoff, just arguing with words at the moment but willing to cause damage if it gets to that point. I'd been looking forward to seeing a scene with Julie. In the main series, it's established that she and the Magician had a long and complicated history, but we only actually see her once - learning more about her is the main reason I'm interested in this new series.

      But Julie's personality here is drastically different than it had seemed in the main series - I actually hadn't realized this was meant to be her until just now when I heard her name (she's using two of Julia's usual aliases). Her portrayal's so different that it just seems like bad writing, like she's been reduced to a caricature. And that complicated history she had with the Magician seems to have become a standard characters-who-irritate-each-other-wind-up-getting-together plot. In the years since that first series ended, the writers have really gone downhill. So I decide I'm just going to ignore this characterization, this new series in general, and focus on the main series instead.

      For (supposedly) unrelated reasons, a character on the Magician's side puts his hands over his ears and starts singing to avoid hearing what the Magician and Julie are saying.

      Updated 09-27-2014 at 06:23 PM by 64691

    8. The building on the lake

      by , 09-24-2014 at 04:59 PM
      A woman's looking over a small art collection - sketches of the building she's in from various earlier eras, collected in a large book. On the wall directly over the book is a recent painting of this same building, but showing it thousands of years earlier when there was a lake here, with the door opening directly onto the water. She finds this painting a little funny - unlike the historical sketches, she believes this one's a sort of what-if image. The building's old but it's not that old. But the man who commissioned the painting, the owner of this place, she's thinking of him as being oddly precise about where the lake should be in relation to the building; as far as she's aware there's no evidence that there was ever really a lake here at all. The title of the painting is Lake Hae or Hayle or something along those lines. Although the building in the painting and the building in modern times are identical, somehow in the painting it gives the impression of being someplace sacred.

      She turns the pages of the book - she's careful with it, it's very valuable. After the sketches of the building there are a series of anatomical sketches and portraits. She's on a page showing several sketches of an old man, mostly bald and with a sort of rounded profile. As a disembodied observer, I'm fond of the sketch, sort of nostalgic about it - both about the subject and about the sketch itself. She keeps turning the pages, and there's a sketch of a young man with a very square jaw; looking at him changes the scene.

      Still in the same room, but a couple centuries earlier; the walls are lined with bookshelves. There's a woman sketching, holding a conversation with a man sitting in a chair. A servant comes into the room - he's that young man from the sketch - and the man in the chair stands up to speak with him. A man all in black and with very long black hair, he's the same man who owned this building and that art collection in modern times.

      Updated 09-24-2014 at 05:19 PM by 64691

    9. Flying, Slavery, and Lincoln

      by , 08-30-2014 at 09:07 PM
      Morning of August 30, 2014. Saturday.

      An earlier part of my dream seems to reflect a typical “finding books” dream where various books (including magazines) have been discarded near smaller stores and I look for items of interest. At one point, though, I am in an area late at night near an alley while a few other (unknown) people are around. My wife is with me. There is something about either going home or possibly to another location we may be temporarily living at and leaving with two heavy seemingly cloth or burlap bags of which I am not sure of the contents - possibly generic personal belongs or the results of scavenging - but the bags are quite heavy. I have the idea that I will just fly to where we need to go.

      I tell my wife to get onto my back as I hold a bag on each side. Each bag almost reaches the ground when held up by each hand. The other people watch as I then fly into the sky effortlessly and with a sense of freedom. This becomes the typical recurring scene of flying over the streets of the city late at night, though I am not sure of the location. Though I had felt the heavier weight while still on the ground, once I focus on the flight, it is as if everything is primarily weightless. It is a very long, enjoyable flight.

      There is another section where I am with a younger version of my wife and another unknown female. We seem to all be on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed though not much happens other than my wife seeming to read from an (unknown) book which I think is about geography and possibly with aspects of politics.

      Eventually, there is a strange developing plot regarding the usage of kidnapped people taken to an island to be slaves. I remember the ride in the airplane, and how most of us soon escape. We run down a long straight dirt road (with higher weeds on each side) to a more open area near a lake. It seems like one or two persons drown while trying to stay unseen, but this is not certain. We hide behind the reeds near water’s edge as the kidnappers, being a large military group, search the other side of the lake. I do not seem to be bothered much as I am not afraid, but perhaps not directly focused on the potential danger of being caught again.

      Eventually, others and I watch the long line of soldiers going back fairly swiftly to the area we all escaped from because of unknown aircraft being detected and approaching the island. The direction they are going is to my left as we hide in the weeds though I am not sure of compass direction. Airplanes fly over the buildings in the distance but only partly (at first) seem to be related to an attempted rescue. Someone asks me “Did you see that?” when bombs start to fall and destroy all of their buildings and eventually all of those involved with the kidnappings - however, there seems to be a caution or wariness regarding the group that seemingly is there to rescue us (they may perhaps not even know about the implemented slavery) and so we stay in the weeds as the scene loses cohesion.

      There is one more switch to a different section where a (unknown) girl is talking about Abraham Lincoln while standing outside in an unknown area (though possibly implied to be near the house I presently live in). She is reading lines from a book and continuously saying (after each and every phrase) “Lincoln lied abut that” (with an unemotional matter-of-fact increasing emphasis on “that” each time). This gets to be a bit monotonous. Finally, she said “Lincoln smiled…”, followed yet again by “Lincoln lied about that” (implying that he was not smiling even though he was, which does not make that much sense at this point).
      Tags: books, flying, lincoln
    10. Breadcrumbs / Sketchbook

      by , 07-30-2014 at 07:48 PM
      Ritual: Went to bed around 12:50am. Woke naturally at 3:32. Seemed a bit soon to WBTB but my motivation was good and I recalled traces of imagery so decided to go for it. Drank guayusa tea and read Brooks & Vogelsong. Before going to bed did hybrid of SSILD/counting/affirmation while sitting in chair. Technique: counted incrementally while breathing slowly and deeply, thinking the number on each in-breath, and on outbreath rotated between senses (thinking "look," "listen," or "feel") and then adding an affirmation, letting it fall randomly between "always lucid" or "always aware." Counted to fifty in this way, though I was impressed how easily it was to lose track of the number (this is good, it means the mind is losing its focus on waking life) even while sitting upright in a chair. Returned to bed at 4:52am and continued counting up to 70 while lying on my back, then ceased the practice and turned on my left side to sleep. I soon realized that I'd overdone the WBTB a bit and was excessively wakeful, but consoled myself that I should be able to return to sleep eventually given how few hours I had gotten so far, and my chances for WILDing should be improved by this touch of insomnia.

      I had made sure to fix a very clear task in mind: I had read about the "fairy tale" challenges on DV and they seemed potentially interesting, but I realized I should make a clear plan. If I did successfully WILD I would find myself in my house, so how would I go about pursuing the task? My idea was this: grab a loaf of bread from the kitchen, exit the front door, turn right and walk up the hill, where in a previous WILD I had passed through a tunnel and found myself in a deep, dark forest. I could leave a trail of bread crumbs and see what happened from there.

      WILD #1: It took a long time to go back to sleep. Eventually I felt sensations I interpreted as the onset of SP: tingling and distortion of the physical body, then a sense of weight on my chest so localized and specific that I wondered if the cat had actually jumped on me, but the weight quickly increased beyond that of any cat. I was encouraged because it seemed like this transition was happening very cleanly and consciously, and turned my attention to beginning to "move" the non-physical "body." I was careful not to wiggle my fingers or adjust my limbs lest I break SP, so I concentrated on unnatural movements like full-body rotation. I could begin to feel my body swinging in a horizontal rotation but didn't yet have enough traction to "get up" out of bed. Suddenly I felt a vertical "lift" as though my body had floated up several feet, and the next moment I was standing on my feet next to the bed. "And I'm up!" I thought to myself, pleased.

      I noticed right away how dark it was, and despite the clarity of the transition, I did not feel well-integrated into the dream body. I deduced that this was probably a consequence of weak REM-state, given how little sleep I had gotten before the WBTB. I thought I'd better do some stabilization, so I touched some surfaces around me and then rubbed my hands together. This felt lifelike enough, so I became too easily complacent and didn't do anything further to integrate... a mistake, as it turned out. But I was pre-occupied with performing my task and didn't want to get distracted to the point where I never left the antechamber, as so often happens, so I rushed to get started.

      I moved swiftly toward the kitchen and picked up the bag of bread from the counter as I passed through. It felt quite full, and I recalled that I had bought a new bag just the other day in waking life. Although the environment was still very muddy and vague, I could easily find my way through the house out of habit, so I headed straight for the front door. As I was crossing the threshold, I noticed that the bag of bread suddenly felt very light, as though there were only a few slices left. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should return to the kitchen, but didn't want to be distracted from my task, so I figured, "That's alright, I can always manifest more."

      I walked out into the night, the outdoor environment no more distinct than the indoors had been, but I knew where I was going. I turned right and began to walk uphill, reaching into the bag to start dropping breadcrumbs. To encourage the right environment to appear, I started muttering under my breath: "Entering the world of Hansel & Gretel. Entering the world of Hansel & Gretel." But I only got off two recitations before I abruptly awoke. I realized my error at once: the dreamspace outside the antechamber is always less stable, and in my impatience to get started on the task, I hadn't integrated properly before exiting.

      I lay for a long time in the position I woke in. Often I can seamlessly re-enter a WILD if I half-wake and don't move. But this was no half-waking: my mind was fully awoken and I soon realized that holding my position would be of no use, sleep had well and truly gone. I used the bathroom so it wouldn't pre-occupy me later and returned to bed, lying on my other side now to make a fresh start. By now the sun was rising so I got out my sleep mask from the drawer. I hate wearing it, but I could tell the light would be disruptive today. I considered checking the time but was trying not to stimulate wakefulness any further, so deliberately decided not to. It was evidently around sunrise, anyway, which occurred at 6:01am today according to Google. That was well over an hour after I had finished my WBTB and the dream can only have lasted a few minutes, so it must have taken me a very long time to fall asleep beforehand.

      WILD #2: I lay on my right side and tried to keep a positive attitude: of course I can do it again! I re-WILD all the time! Not usually from such drastic awakening, admittedly, but I didn't let myself focus on the negatives. I wondered if I should rise and write a report, but reflected that there was little to report apart from the exact wording of the phrases I had thought or spoken, and these I had already scrawled in my notepad. The rest, what little there was, would be easy to remember. So I let go of those worries and focused attention on my breathing, remembering not to "try" to fall asleep but just let it happen. Eventually, it did.

      Whereas the previous transition had been so vivid, this time I was surprised to find myself simply standing at the foot of the bed. I hadn't noticed the separation. But at least I remembered where I had gone wrong in the last attempt, and reminded myself: don't rush it. Get traction. Find something to do in the antechamber to better immerse yourself.

      I noticed that this time the bedroom was full of books, stacked in messy piles and filling bags all over the floor. I figured that these would provide a good opportunity to more fully engage my senses in the dreamspace. So I selected a few and carried them with me as I moved out of the room. The kitchen floor was also covered with books, so many piles and stacks that was actually hard to pick a path through them. I was picking up volumes more or less at random until I noticed what was clearly an artist's sketchbook, a spiral-bound 9"x12" Strathmore, on top of one pile. "Oh, I should look at that!" I thought, and grabbed it. Finally I made my way to the living room, where I found a small oriental rug on the floor (about 2'x3', black pattern on a white background) and sat down on it to begin to peruse my books.

      I chose the sketchbook first, because I was the most curious what I might find inside this one, and dream pictures tend to be easier to perceive and remember afterwards than dream text. The first picture I saw upon opening it was a portrait of what looked like a tribal chieftain, showing the upper half of his body and filling the whole page. He looked about middle-aged, with angular but weather-beaten features. The most distinctive element of the portrait, dominating most of the visual space, was the enormous headdress he was wearing. It wasn't made of feathers or any obvious RL material but seemed composed of abstract patterns with a Mayan styling to them. I took note of the colors. The headdress was all in shades of red, mostly an earthy brick shade. There were constrasting shades of muted green in the distinctive wide straps criss-crossing his body in various places. It didn't occur to me at the time, but the obvious deduction is that these straps were there to secure the enormous headdress.

      After looking carefully at the first drawing, I turned the page. The next image I saw was more cartoon-like. The page was divided into four rectangular panels, each one the width of the page, and stacked vertically. There was a caption, though I don't remember if it was above or below the panels: "Doyle Oss Toss." How clever, I thought... until I realized that it didn't rhyme as well as I had thought at first, because I was aware from the start that "Oss" meant "Owl" but soon realized that the RL word had been distorted unrecognizably to fit the rhyme. My dream texts often demonstrate this tendency to favor rhyme and alliteration over comprehensible meaning.

      The four panels showed the Doyle Owl being punted by a large shaggy grey wolf. The Owl was on the left, the wolf on the right, and the setting suggested the outdoors but was very plain, with little in the background to distract the eye. The sky behind them was dark. The first panel showed the Owl already in mid-air, with the wolf's head lowered, evidently having just head-butted it. The second panel showed the Owl about halfway down, in the act of falling, the wolf's head still lowered. The third panel showed the Owl having come to rest again on the ground, the wolf's position unchanged. The last panel showed the Owl lying on the ground where it had fallen, and now the wolf had lowered its haunches into a crouch and lifted its head toward the sky, howling in what I interpreted as triumph.

      I think I might have spied one more drawing but I don't remember it, because around this time I woke up. In a false awakening. Which I didn't recognize. Responsibly, I immediately began to record the dream on my notepad, first sketching out the four-panel cartoon I have just described. After completing that, I started blocking out the tribal chieftain, and made some notes about the colors. I think I wrote about the green straps first, and when I started trying to describe the particular shades of red in the headdress, the dream began to evolve, and I thought I remembered dreaming that I was a sultan who had a vizier who wore a turban constructed of red cloth in various textures and shades, including a dark red kerchief. It's possible that this image relates to a drawing from the original sketchbook that I've forgotten, because as I was jotting down notes about color of his headgear a new visual appeared, where I could see the vizier from above and behind, with a clear vantage on the dark red kerchief, and I was surprised because I knew that I had not previously seen him from that perspective.

      Before the FA could evolve any more, I woke up for real and recognized that I had just been writing my dream report in another dream, and I'd better get up and do it properly. In this case I didn't mind the delay because writing it down in the FA had helped cement the details in memory (this is not always the case). So I started jotting down my notes on the notepad next to my bed... only to realize soon after I'd started that even though I was more or less awake now, I still wasn't actually doing it, I was still just experiencing a kind of half-dreamed enactment of writing, and I should stop tricking myself and physically get out of bed so I could be sure I was doing it properly. So I got up and hastily sketched out the four-panel again—noticing with amusement how much crappier it looked in RL than in the more elegantly sketched version from my initial FA. I noted the time of rising as 6:56am, and recorded the rest of the dream on my laptop.

      Updated 08-02-2014 at 10:48 PM by 34973

      lucid , false awakening , task of the year
    11. Unusual dentist visit

      by , 07-04-2014 at 03:50 AM (Keitorin's Dream Log)
      The dentist tells me I’ll need to eat something. She gives me a saucer with a small strawberry on it and then leaves to clean up. Apparently there’s going to be an operation or something.

      Me and mom can hear the water running and wonder what’s taking so long. I figure she must be taking a shower rather than washing her hands.

      I talk to mom about how I hate strawberries and wonder if I should tell the dentist how I puked the last time I tried one. I might be fibbing there, but close enough.

      I end up hurrying out of the room to try and find something else to eat. I find a basket of pears [that’s actually peaches] and slice off some of that. Somehow I end up with some kind of cake stuff on the plate too.

      I’m looking at a magazine and mom suggests I trade it with the one I have [something to do with the date on it?].

      Then I’m looking through a book, which has scraps of paper in it. I figure some of them were used as bookmarks by the last person to read it. I come to a paper with Spike Spiegel on it. It has a place to sign your name and the date, and something about putting down what power you have but it was some strange term. I didn’t know what to put there so I just out my name and date [though I don’t remember what it was].

      I can’t remember if it was in the magazine or book, but a ‘date’ was written: 1-2-1.

      Back in the room with plate in hand, a guy comes in and starts talking. I’m wondering who the heck he is but apparently he’s taking over or helping.

      Inspirations: Talking about our teeth issues, mom has peaches in the fridge and I have coffee cake, I saw a Spike Spiegel post on tumblr recently, been reading food magazines lately, have had a lot of doctor’s visits lately and was thinking about my teeth
    12. Gift from Midousuji?!

      by , 07-03-2014 at 03:48 AM (Keitorin's Dream Log)
      I went over to the stove and saw that mom was making some kind of pasta dish. I decided to make some with egg noodles instead. Mom later tells me she liked them better but I liked hers.

      I’m in a parking lot sitting on a car or something? My black fan is running on high on me. Mom comes over to apologize, saying she’s been tired lately. She lets the fan run on her. Rane goes by slowly on a bike and asks us a question, maybe what we’re doing. The fan is on low now and I figure mom turned it down.

      Mom is in a garage looking at stuff. She points out a package on top of a vehicle and says I need to get to looking at it. It has a bit of water on top of it.

      -Déjà vu looking around at stuff. [I’ve had a few dreams where I look around at stuff in places.]

      Was this lucid?-profile_picture_by_midousuji_kun-d7b3ptb.jpg

      As I open it, Midousuji comes over and jeers at me. Apparently it’s a gift from him.

      The first thing on top is some fabric material with aliens on it or some creature in a cartoonish style. I say sarcastically sweet, “Aww, how cute!’.

      Underneath is a smallish book, some kind of sacrilegious school porno book called ‘The School’ or something.

      Inspirations: The pasta I made the other night, me and mom being moody lately, me receiving books in the mail in packages, me watching Yowamushi Pedal and trying to figure Midousuji out, looking at fabric to make me a new quilt and pillow covers…

      Updated 07-03-2014 at 04:00 AM by 20026

      non-lucid , side notes
    13. 6.20.14

      by , 06-20-2014 at 07:29 PM
      The back of my car is packed full of random things. Behind the passenger seat is a stack of about 20 books. A few of the books are about lucid dreaming; two are about kids growing up with out a mom or a dad. My stepdad is here and I want to tell him about the books about the kids but realize it might be awkward since he grew up without a mother. He does notice the dream books and tells me he thinks I've been doing drugs in order to have lucid dreams.
      Tags: books, cars, dreams, drugs
    14. 12th of june -> 13th of june.

      by , 06-13-2014 at 08:42 AM
      Only small dreams/fragments. Here we go.

      1: I was in the gym with my friend, and his mom, when we found it closes early because of summer times :/

      2: While dreaming, i was watching an episode of: ''Top ?(unknown number) Plays'' for lor league of legends.

      3: I was in a league of legends game, playing renekton. Only strange thing i noticed was that i didn't have smartcast. I was dumb, and should have realized i was dreaming from that.

      4: I was at my school, when i found a book i had not returned. It was math, and had a blue cover. I returned it to the person sitting in the library.
    15. Library

      by , 05-17-2014 at 07:23 PM
      I'm standing outside my IRL local library with two women. One of them needs to get something from inside the building, without getting caught. There's only one person inside to avoid being seen by, that and hiding her face from the cameras, so it seems fairly simple, but she's still worried, and she's standing around working out various plans. This seems to be something she intends to do on her own, she's not asking either of us for help, and the other woman with us is just waiting impatiently off to the side, but it seems to me this would go a lot easier and faster if I just went ahead and took care of it myself. After all, unlike her, I don't show up on video, and it'll be much easier for me to avoid that person inside - they're mostly walking around the main area near the door, so I'll just go around to the side of the building instead and walk through the wall.

      The section of wall I phased through comes out in the fantasy section, off in the corner of the library and out of sight. I'm looking around at the fantasy books, and thinking about how I used to eat this stuff up, and about how much more difficult it is for me to get lost in a book now. I'm aware that the quality of the books hasn't changed, it's my own mindset - but I somehow feel sure that if I look at one of these books, now I'll find one I can get absorbed in. I pick one up and flip through. The paragraph I'm looking at now involves characters named Maedhros and Fingon - I recognize the names from Tolkien, and I note this as odd, since this isn't a Tolkien book. These aren't meant to be the same characters either; the author seems to have just stolen the names for his own characters.

      The dream scene changes to a scene from that book. One character is explaining three weapons to another, and he's making a big deal out of a knife that secretly contains some kind of poison. He says there are two options with this - a whole dose inside will kill instantly, but "a thousand light touches... well, depends on how you define death." The scene changes; he's meeting a small group of people in a forest, one of them a queen, and they're coming to some agreement. He secretly places small doses from that poison in each of their drinks, which will give him some power over them - to his mind, this is simply making sure that they don't back out of the deal they've made. After they drink, they instantly realize what's happened and regret making this deal, but it's too late now.
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