• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    1. Interdimensional Bathhouse; Music Box #5

      by , 11-12-2018 at 03:15 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      Iím in what seems to be a bathhouseóa basic, no-frills rectangular room with a concrete floor, on the large side, with a number of small pools and folding screens that can be moved around. Although the setting also seemed shifty and indefinite in a more basic wayóa ďI had this dream early in the nightĒ kind of way.

      Weird things are constantly happening there, strange figures materializing and disappearing again in a sort of timeless convergence - it almost seems like there's nothing outside of this place, even though in one sense I arrived here at a definite point of time - but nobody else seems aware of it. But this is normal: I hadnít been able to see them once, but I had been through a long processóall of it, every stage. I go over it in memory: some parts of it had been unpleasant or even frightening, but thereís nothing frightening about it now that I can see the whole of it instead of just pieces. Itís familiaróit even feels like home somehow.

      I seem to have come here with two young women, and at some pointóitís very difficult to say what order things happened in in this dreamóI say to one that this is a special place, that you can feel it in the atmosphere. Iím curious if she can feel it too, on some level. At some other point, perhaps earlier or perhaps later, one asks me if thereís anyone here Iím interested in romantically. I say that there is one person, but Iíve only spoken to him a couple times. And he hasnít shown up here for a couple hundred years nowóbut I feel itís best not to mention that.

      Also, at one point, one of them is arranging stuff around a pool we're going to use. There isn't enough space for two people to do it without getting in each other's way, but I don't want to just sit there, so I clean up some of the central area at the same time.

      Later on, towards morning, I have another dream. Iím now in a large house with my bouzouki instructor for a lesson. I have the impression that itís not his house or mineóthat heís an employee here. There are interruptions to our lessonówe have to temporarily leave the house at one point and go somewhere else in a car.

      But we do make it back inside eventually, and he tells me to go get something. He gives me directions to the room and tells me to get #5, indicating approximately where in the room Iíll be able to find it.

      Itís only a few rooms away, and I make it there without difficulty. It wouldnít be an exaggeration to call this house a mansion, but the room I now find myself in wouldnít be out of place in a palace. Itís richly decorated, 18th-century style, in blue and silver. Thereís another doorway on the other end, and one of the longer walls, to my left, is covered with shelves, all of which are lined with ornate silver music boxes. Theyíre all individually numbered, and #5 is one of the farthest to the left, about mid-way up.

      It occurs to me that people who decorate rooms like this usually donít like other people coming in and messing with them. But, at the same time, this place has the look of an archive. It will probably be OK, then. I take the music box off the shelf. It has its number and what seems to be some notes about it carved onto the top in a rather messy handwriting.

      I open it thereóbut unfortunately, I canít really remember what happened then, although the dream kept going. Before carrying it back, I notice what looks like a bone flute lying on the floor, the only thing out of place here. Perhaps a child was playing with it and left it there, I think.

      (8.11.18)
    2. This Must Have Been Kafkaís Bank; Old Acquaintance

      by , 04-22-2018 at 11:09 PM (The Fourth Factor)
      It seems Iíve gone to a bank to figure out why I canít get my checking account hooked up with Paypal. Theyíve given me a form to fill outóIím sitting at a large table with a few other customers scattered around it while a female employee stands behind a desk at one end of the room.

      But the form is proving quite frustrating. All the questions are so unclear that I keep having to call the woman over to explain what information itís asking me for. And it seems that a lot of what itís asking for is other peopleís informationórelatives, friends, people who would be able to do a particular thing for me.

      I call the woman over to explain yet another questionóit claims to be questions 4 through 10, although it seems to be a simple yes or no question. Whatís this one asking me for? She tells me that one doesnít actually count for anything, and I can write anything I want there. Well, fine then. I write: ďyes?/no!Ē below it. The woman seems a little dubious. But if it doesnít matter, then presumably it doesnít have to make sense. Besides, I say, how often do you get the chance to answer a question like that? And she seems to accept that.

      I had hoped to have this matter settled today, but since Iím going to have to get in touch with so many people to get the information I need to fill the form out, it looks like itís going to drag out for a while longer. But then it dawns on me: this thing is making me think about the ways Iím connected with other people. Could it be that thatís what this was really about?

      Later that night, in a different dream, Iím going to a place like a big department store with a group of people. A lot happened in this one, but in the only part I can remember well, we have all met up at a cafť that's part of some larger space. We sit at a couple small, round tables to one side of the counter. There are some nice-looking pastries on display, but I donít recall anyone actually ordering food.

      I was hoping to sit next to Katya, but she ended up at the other table, and other people sat down there before I could move over. Instead, I seem to be sitting beside an old schoolmate, someone I havenít seen or even thought about since we were both 10. We talk about life back then. She mentions a particular boy, saying she remembers I had a lot of classes in common with him. I canít remember whether I did or not. Itís not something I would have taken note of. I say that I remember having a lot of classes in common with another boy, though. She doesnít remember who he is at first. But then she says, ďOh, the one with the naked fairy dream?Ē This is referring to the dream records that are displayed here in this cafť. It seems they were collected by Judge whatís-his-face from some of the students back then as part of some projectómaybe like a public display of kidsí artwork, like you see sometimesó and by some massive coincidence, they ended up here, where we are.

      I have my bouzouki in my lap, in its case. Iím thinking of taking it out and playing it. It would have nothing whatsoever to do with anything that happened in the past, and that would be nice.

      22.4.18