• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. 14 Mar: Paralell universe

      by , 03-14-2016 at 11:32 PM (Lucid-schizo-dreamer)
      non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid false awakening

      I get sucked into a parallel universe, in which civilization seems a bit more advanced technologically speaking - there's quite a number of flying saucers moving around in the sky - but with a very retro feel. I observe fascinated the architecture of the city, the gadgets they have, etc. Everything seems peaceful and clean and civilized, until I learn there's another level of society not so lucky, where people gather in lines to get basic things that are rationed. But somehow they accept their faith, it seems. It's because of a deep belief in genetic differences that determine if you're from the elite or not. Then I find the elite has some strange bloody rituals to honour (or whatever) this blood differentiation. These rituals are supposedly secret, but I am taken to the place where they happen. I soon start wondering how come I was so welcomed in this elite, how even I got here in the first place, and if maybe they are in fact descendants of humans from my universe and therefore they brought me here to sacrifice me, symbolically. I start planning a way to discreetly get away from here, before it's too late.
    2. Kai's hub.

      by , 06-13-2014 at 10:14 AM
      If you are reading this you have arrived at my ''hub''. I plan on using this to keep myself more structured, and link projects that i could be interested in viewing another time. If you are a mod/admin and this thread is in the wrong place, feel free to move it.

      - Dream yoga: http://www.dreamviews.com/dream-yoga...-notebook.html
      - Newbie lessons/ intro class: http://www.dreamviews.com/intro-clas...-workbook.html Questions? http://www.dreamviews.com/intro-clas...o-class-q.html

      Projects to look into
      Dream yoga: http://www.dreamviews.com/dream-yoga...esson-1-a.html
      ADA: http://www.dreamviews.com/induction-...kingyoshi.html
      Dream incubation: http://www.dreamviews.com/general-dr...-tutorial.html
      Night-time preperation: http://www.dreamviews.com/attaining-...-lucidity.html

      Projects currently doing: Dream yoga: http://www.dreamviews.com/dream-yoga...esson-1-a.html

      Current RC program: Ask myself;- ''Am i dreaming?''
      - Look at/ feel the sorroundings
      - Examine my hands. Any abnormalities?
      - Push thumb through left palm
      - Nose plug
      - Mantra: ''Next time i RC, i realize i'm dreaming.'' Do this 3 times.

      Dream journal: http://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/kaiern9999/

      Non-lucid dream count: 5.
      Lucid dream count: 3.
      PS. Number from when i joined DV.

      Sleep patterns.
      Sleep: 11.00-12.00.
      Wake: 08.00-10.00.

      Supplement reward system.
      3 LD's= supplements for 1 night.
      Take melatonin 90 min before bed.
      Take b6 right before bed.
    3. 8th Apr 2013 Island, Organization, Missions, Invasion, Duel, Weird class

      by , 04-08-2013 at 11:48 AM (Scionox's Journal of Dreams)
      Dream recall from today's nap, pretty long dream but i couldn't recall first part in detail, also became lucid near the end but didn't recalled waking life memories, like, at all, so ended up just wandering aimlessly...

      I was on some kind of huge island and i was in some kind of organization. There was a city and we had out base in bunker that was located in one of basements. We had some storage with various weapons, and we were also discussing various things. A few times we were going on missions which were happening in various locations on the island, i recall one of them was happening in some natural area, other in the city, another was happening in some arabian town and another somewhere underground(can't recall mission details though sadly). Between missions we were discussing more things and i was also visiting some classes that were built below the bunker. Also at some point i found some guns in the storage and was curious why we weren't using them earlier, considering we were using melee weapons.
      Later our bunker-base got attacked by some enemies but we successfully defended it. Then we had a discussion and there was mention about some famous warrior-invader that was capturing land for himself all over the world, and that he was coming for this island. We were worried, but the day was over and we went to get some rest.
      Next day, the island was captured by that dude and we couldn't do anything, and later his helper arrived at your base and said that he was taking one item of value from every person on this island for some kind of sacrifice. That helper looked surprisingly like one of my classmates from when i was at school ages ago. Then he left and we had discussion about this, we weren't sure what was the minimal value, so i decided to use pen as item that was randomly in my pocket. We also decided not to fight him, because we didn't wanted problems at the moment but we were planning to bring him down later after finishing some other important thing. We went to the underground classrooms, and apparently the warrior dude was there and everyone was bringing items there. That dude looked really strong and warrior-like, we got items but helper said that pen is not enough of value, but that we still had time to get another item. I went to search for other item in storage, we found some gold bars, but we don't wanted to use them, so we stopped on another item that was some kind of mechanism.
      We got it to the dude but before i could leave someone in the room shouted my name, i heard warrior dude and his helper were talking about that he apparently had grudge on someone with that name, but he could not realize that people can have same names. He shouted that i should come, the exit was blocked so i pretended that i didn't heard his discussion and just came, on the way i silently grabbed a couple of random items, that were apparently rulers. When i got closer, he suddenly attacked me with... some kind of triangle rulers that had blade on one side, rulerblades? I blocked attack with the rulers i got, but they broke almost immediately, i dodged towards one of tables and there luckily was another pair of those rulerblades. I picked them up and started attacking too. We were blocking each others attacks, but soon i missed some attacks and i was hit, but it seemed like my body was like made of stone and i didn't took much damage. I started to be more offensive in my attacks and soon i managed to land a few hits too, but he was not damaged much as well. We fought for a while but in the end i managed to defeat him and then i fell unconscious because was too tired.
      While 'dreaming' while unconscious, i was watching some kind anime named 'S3E3' about some futuristic city, can't recall much about it though.
      Then i woke up, i was in the same room where fight was, but there were alot of people and apparently some historians were talking about the past events and about S3E3 apparently too.
      I spontaneously realized that i was dreaming, but for whatever reason i decided not to do reality check. There also was weird ink on my clothes. According to what historians were talking about, apparently that battle was literally years ago and that the land remained under control of that dude anyway because he apparently won? I told them that it's not true and they were annoyed. I ignored them as they started tantrum and left the room, someone shouted that i 'ruined all the classes' and i was wandering around bunker hall not sure what to do, soon dream faded out.
      I woke up in some large room, it was dark and i couldn't move. There was huge balcony on the second floor of the room and at the balcony there was weird anime girl. She looked at me and then i woke up properly.
    4. Thurs Feb 14 (0:58-8:45) *

      by , 02-21-2013 at 09:35 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      • My class is taking a tour, but because of a schedule change, we have to wait in a church for two hours while there's a service going on.
      Tags: classes, religion
      dream fragment
    5. Bully for the Teacher

      by , 01-10-2013 at 08:41 AM
      01-10-2013 -- Heading for a course that seems to be a cross between a junior high class and a college class. Junior high in that the campus layout most resembles Brookhurst Junior High, and college because the class only meets for perhaps an hour and a half, two days a week. It is near the beginning of the semester, so I haven't been to the class much yet, and I can't remember exactly where it is, but I know the general area, and when I come across the teacher playing an odd sort of baseball with some of the students next to a classroom with the door open, I think I've found the right place.

      I walk into the classroom, and want to take my usual seat in the last seat of the first row by the door, but something is blocking that seat, and I have to walk around the entire first row to get to it. Whatever was blocking the way is now gone, and a punk who has been giving me problems in every class we've had together is also approaching it. I'm sure he is going to take me seat, but he takes the seat in front of me, and sneers at me.

      The teacher calls me up to the front of the room, and wants to talk to me about homework. It seems I haven't been turning enough of it in, and he wonders if I am committed enough to the class, and suggests I ought to be working on it now. Problem is, though I have my loaded backpack, I am missing the books for this class. He sends me back to my seat with a frown.

      The class seems to be a cross between a literature class and a film class, because we're supposed to be commenting on the poems of Lewis Carroll, and exactly where Disney fit them in to the Alice in Wonderland animated feature. As I approach my seat, I am humming one of the songs from the movie, very very lightly under my breath. The bully immediately starts humming a different song, quite loudly, to drown me out. I call him the a-word, and ask him if he plans to do that any time I hum under my breath, and he says he does. I call him a jerk, and say he'll be heard a lot more than I will.

      I bend to grab my drink (one of those big, refillable thermal mugs that help to keep the drinks cold, like you'd find at 7-Eleven) and take a sip, and the teacher starts yelling at me about my rudeness and such. I guess drinks aren't allowed in his class room, but I didn't know that. He comes running to the back of the room, and starts to tear apart my entire mug, which was already leaking slightly, anyway. What should be a simple two-piece design (three if you include the straw) turns out to have dozens and dozens of parts, and the teacher insists on tearing the entire thing apart, insulting me the whole while.

      This goes on for something like 30 minutes, and I know I am never going to be able to fit all those pieces back together. I say he could have just taken it away, told me to collect it after class, and to never bring it back again, and he says "As if!" while the punk from earlier just laughs. I give him a very hard Gibbs-slap for his laughter. Some of the other students try to walk out of class, and complain that he is wasting over half the class on this, and the teacher tells them all it is my fault, and they start to bully me, steal lots of my stuff, and even steal my pants off me.

      Somehow I eventually find myself outside of the classroom, walking back to the door to get in, while students in the hall are pointing and laughing at my nudity. When I finally get into the classroom, there is somebody else standing there with the teacher, and he announces himself as the head of the department, tells me the teacher can do whatever he wants, and it is all my fault, and for me to just shut up and get over it. Then he stalks on out of the classroom.

      I make a loud comment about how I now have a recording of both the teacher and the department head bullying a student, as I gather up most of my stuff (my pants are still missing) but it doesn't seem to worry the teacher any. As I exit the classroom and head back to my car, I am thinking it is still early enough in the semester that I can drop that class without any harm except the loss of the money I paid for it (must have been a CA community college course, because it was only $5 a unit), because I sure don't plan to remain in that course.

      [The teacher looked like that Simmons guy I interviewed for the Hornet, the math teacher who was a member of that CSICOP group.]
    6. Before a test.

      by , 01-03-2013 at 12:58 AM
      I am in school (in Cuba), in A college or something like a university. There is going to be a test about physics, but I reason that I have not attended all the classes and I'm not ready. I am approached by girl in a short green dress and we exchanged a few words that I do not remember. Then she walks toward a kind of balcony with brown slabs but no balcony railings. It is a colonial building and the height is like a multi-story building. I went out to the balcony and the height gives me vertigo. I warn the girl to leave the balcony but she does not listen. Suddenly the scene changes for no reason and I see myself approaching the facade of a house. There is a door and two windows and I realize I'm dreaming, but I wake up immediately.
    7. Wed Dec 26 (3:27-12:00)

      by , 12-28-2012 at 08:28 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Homework Stress

      Today is July 1st. One of the first things my [old] chemistry teacher does in class is ask for the homework. It was our choice exactly which assignment to do, but we were supposed to do 50 points' worth of homework. I haven't done it, because I forgot to check the syllabus.

      • "alien invasion" [??]
    8. Mon Dec 24 (2:48-11:39)

      by , 12-25-2012 at 01:48 AM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Cat Surgery

      I walk into the basement to find an unfamiliar young man sitting with some of my parents. He's holding one of our pet cats, while my dad holds the other. [IRL: The other cat died, actually, about a year ago.] The other cat (a white one) gets away from dad, so I go after it. Evidently something is being done to the cats which they don't like, but which is good for them. Eventually I find the white cat and bring it back downstairs.

      Now the stranger is sawing off the cat's front paw with a hacksaw. My parents assure me that this is a necessary surgery, since the cats' paws never healed right from that time they fell from a great height. I remember that event; it was somehow my fault. [IRL: No such thing has ever happened.] Despite my parents' assurances, I still think that this operation will probably kill the cats. Which is a real shame, because I think this first cat in particular had a long, eventful life ahead of him, in spite of his limp. The man finishes with the first cat, and we give him the second one.

      Later, the first cat jumps up onto the couch next to me. I'm shocked to see that he has both front paws back already, and they don't seem to be paining him at all. Do cats have some kind of regenerative ability?

      Manual Roller Coaster

      Right up ahead, my sisters and I see the entrance of a big covered slide. We dive right in; I'm last. It's a sort of man-powered roller coaster: the idea is to crawl through as quickly as possible. Visibility isn't so good, so sometimes a sharp curve will take you off guard. Then suddenly I reach a long downward segment that I can just slide straight down. This is a blast! A bit later, I accidentally run into my sisters, who apparently just ran into each other. The youngest one apparently tripped because of an unusually long, sharp turn (something like 720 degrees), and then we all crashed right into her. Still, we extricate ourselves in moments and continue the ride.

      At the end of the ride, there are a bunch of computers. You can type in your identification and it will tell you how long it took you to go through the ride, and how you compare to that day's other participants. I got 611th, which I think isn't too bad. Then I talk to my sisters, and it turns out the youngest one got 609th. I hadn't expected her to do better than I did! I'm a bit put out, but good for her anyway.

      Exclusive Buffet

      I'm eating dinner with some classmates at a big restaurant. We're having an important conversation, when suddenly someone comes out on the stage at one side of the room. The person talking to me has his back to the stage, so I try to shush him so I can hear what the woman on stage has to say. I realize I seem a bit rude, but surely he'll understand. A few other actors come onstage, and they start performing a play.

      I have only a moment to feel surprised before a bulky, intimidating man comes up to our table and starts taking away our plates, whether or not we're done with them.

      "I'm sorry," he says firmly, "we're closing now unless you're part of the club." He has a bit of an accent.

      I remember that this place serves a buffet until 8:00, when the actual fancy dinner starts. You have to pay extra to be part of that, or something. And now it's 8:00, so we have to go. On the way out, some of my classmates snag something from the dessert station at the buffet. That's a little rude of them, since technically we're not allowed to eat anything from here anymore. Good thing I got my dessert earlier. Outside on the sidewalk, I hear some other classmates complaining about not having eaten a full dinner because there was nothing good at the buffet. I'm glad I avoided that problem by eating plenty, even if the food was pretty unremarkable.

      First Day of Classes (LUCID)

      I get up later than usual and hurry to find breakfast. I pass one of the dormitory suites, where apparently someone has set up a small continental breakfast. Interesting, to see such a business here. I get some food there. Then it's time to find my first class.

      A lot of time has passed, so when I go back into the hallway, I see a gigantic line of people coming out of the suite's main entrance. It goes all the way down the hallway and down a staircase. I'm glad I missed the line, but suddenly I realize that so many people in line means these are probably the people who get breakfast immediately before heading to class. So I have very little time to collect my things and find my class. I hurry down the staircase, trying not to jostle the line of people too much.

      [about 6 classes later . . .]

      My next class is titled something like "Practice Session." My guess would be that that refers to a free slot for me to practice my instrument, but that doesn't make much sense, since I'm not a music major and this is not a conservatory. But in any case, I have to find the classroom, which is called the MUSIC room, appropriately enough. But the name "MUSIC" is actually some kind of alphabetical index of where to find the class. Like, I need to find floor M, then hallway U, etc. I suppose the music department thought they were very clever when they designed this room numbering scheme.

      I'm hurrying down a surprisingly dark corridor, feeling rather lost. I think I'm on the right floor, but I can't find "U" anywhere. Suddenly, I come upon a library, where my orchestra conductor is talking to some of her students. Well, it's good to find other live people here, but I don't really want to talk to her right now, so I avoid them. Consulting my class schedule again, I realize that my next class isn't even in the MUSIC room. I've had about three other classes in there today, but this one is somewhere else. That's a relief, until I realize that the room shouldn't just disappear if I don't happen to have a class in it right now. But I don't have time to worry about that; I have to find this other place.

      It strikes me that today has been an inauspicious first day of classes. I had been hoping that after last quarter (which was very stressful) I would have learned something about avoiding stress and staying calm--but alas, it seems like I have not. Especially since I seem to remember that I skipped most of one of my classes this morning because I had to finish an essay that was technically due last quarter.

      My map has a sort of sticker on it, labeled with the name of the place I'm looking for, but it's way out in the middle of nowhere, and the map doesn't show any route to get there. I'm not convinced that's the right place, so I wander around some more. Then I realize I'm just pretending that it's not the place because it's much farther away than I expected. I should just suck it up and go there, even if it will take a while. Looking at the syllabus for this class (which is a small, staple-bound book with a brown cover), I notice that there's even some advice printed on the back cover: the professor says we should leave for his class within ten seconds of the end of the previous class if we want to make it to his class within ten minutes of the alleged start time. I start walking, but then I realize I'm not carrying a backpack or any school supplies at all. And I have only fifteen minutes until class starts. I might make it on time if I keep walking there, but I'll definitely be late if I go back to my room first. I wish I could just "Accio" my school supplies so they catch up to me while I'm walking. Of course, that's just wishful thinking--

      --but then I realize that I'm dreaming! Sweet! Okay, I can fly back to my room, get my stuff, and fly to class, and still be there with time to spare. So I set out to do just that. [On my way to class, I lose lucidity.]

      The route to class turns into a dirt hiking trail. I try going straight to the classroom, but the path leads under a giant boulder, and I discover that there's not enough clearance for me to squeeze through. Backing out, I make my way around the boulder instead. There are two young boys jumping around on the rocks, shooting at each other with what I identify as laser guns. One shouts at the other, "Mister, show me your ID card!" Clearly, they're imitating the adults from around here, the security guards that watch the entrance to the secure facility in which my class takes place. Okay, I should try to find the guardhouse so I can gain entrance to the facility. There's a small wooden cabin across the road that looks promising.

      Inside the cabin, I find the teacher for my class. In order to pass the gatehouse, every student has to sign a contract. All of the contracts are hand-written (by the professor), and I can't read mine at all--it's totally illegible. But one by one, all of the other students are leaving the gatehouse to go to class, and in desperation I finally just sign the contract.

      The classroom seems rather like an art studio. There are a lot of heavy-duty tables spread around the room; some of them are pushed against the wall like booth seats at restaurants. It is at one of these latter tables that the professor is sitting, and he invites the class to gather 'round his table while he explains what we'll do in today's class.
    9. Sun Dec 9 (12:15-10:41)

      by , 12-12-2012 at 02:42 AM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Have to Study

      I suddenly realize that I have only a few hours left to study for my Formal Languages final at 1:30. [Interestingly, that /is/ the actual time of the final, though at the time of dreaming I still had an entire day left to study. I woke from this dream feeling definitely anxious.]

      • "professor story"
      • "psychological [illegible]"
      • "borrow car, teleport?, materialize car"
      • "machine gun"
      Tags: anxiety, car, classes, gun
    10. Wed Dec 5 (1:51-8:15)

      by , 12-05-2012 at 06:22 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Teacher Comments

      Over SSH, I open up the log file of my grading hours to find that the professor has edited it to leave me a message. I thought only I had permission to modify it. Hmmm. Oh well.


      During a break in the lecture, I've been talking with a classmate about how to prove the next major proposition. He thinks he has an idea, so he tells the professor. The professor (who's only about 30 and has a carefree attitude) tells him he should go up to the board and present the proof to the class. My classmate is somewhat taken aback at this unusual request, but he obeys. Of course, he doesn't completely understand his proof (he only knew the general outlines), so a minute later he runs into a problem and his presentation stumbles to a halt. The professor steps in to say that it's a good start, and also, "That's probably enough for today. We'll finish the proof next time." I'm confused again, because we still have a few minutes left in class--plus it's weird that he ended the lecture with a rough student presentation. It seems to me that his carefree attitude doesn't lend itself well to being a good teacher.

      Feral Fox

      I get out of the car to see a mangy fox running around our driveway. I expect it to run away from me, but it charges! I kick at it in an attempt to avoid getting bitten. Who knows what diseases it might have. It dodges my foot and runs a few yards away, but I'm not sure if I've scared it off for good yet.

      Clock Lag

      I wake up and roll over in bed to check the time. I scribble some short notes in my dream journal, then check the time again to record when I woke up. To my surprise, the time seems to have jumped forward by five minutes. I check my cell phone's other two clocks. [My phone has three alarms, which in the dream I must have confused with separate timekeeping devices.] First one, then the other, ticks over from one minute to another minute five minutes later. It must be a kind of lag induced by having been in idle mode all night. Soon I wake up for real. [The actual time was about a half-hour earlier than the time in the dream.]

      • "faster way home"
    11. Fri Nov 23 (11:24-9:23)

      by , 11-23-2012 at 06:42 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Camera Project (7:06)

      My sister needs to borrow my camera ASAP for a class project which I assume is due this morning. I give it to her somehow and head to my own class, Discrete Math. On the way I get a text from Mom saying that my sister has gotten really depressed about this project, since now she can't get the pictures off of the camera. I feel stupid for not realizing that she would need the CD to install the camera's driver onto her computer. I'm not even sure where that CD is, nowadays. I might have packed it in one of those boxes I've been meaning to send home. It'll take a while to find it for her. But that's actually okay, I suddenly realize, because I don't have class this morning--it's Monday, and Discrete Math is on Tuesdays. Today I don't have class until the afternoon. Only, maybe the project was already due, in which case I can do nothing to help. On the off chance it will do some good, I head back towards my dorm.

      By means of a cutscene [or something], I see that Dad's given my sister a call, to say in no uncertain terms that he is totally unsympathetic to her plight. I also see that my sister is standing in a grassy lawn, crying, waiting for her boyfriend to come with roses and make her feel better. I think that's a bit of an immature thing to use a boyfriend for.

      Old Folk's Home

      I'm about to walk away from the building when I decide, regretfully, that I might as well go back there to practice viola. I don't like that building. That one weird professor lives in it, and it's basically an old folk's home. I turn around and walk back, noticing that there are a lot of string quartets and small bands rehearsing on the sidewalk, all in a row. Huh.

      Inside, I wander around the building for a while. There is a shallow spiral staircase to the second floor. I feel old myself as I climb them, since my recent sickness has left me lethargic enough that I have to put both feet on each step. This frustrates me, so I decide to challenge myself and try the other staircase: a much steeper one going up the middle of the spiral staircase, with golden steps that are individually suspended on ropes from the ceiling. It turns out to be very hard, since there's nothing to stop the steps from swinging back and forth like so many swings. I have to grab a rope to prevent myself from falling off. One of the women working at desks on the second floor notices my plight and demonstrates proper use of the staircase. She has no trouble walking all the way down. But there's not really a trick to it; you just have to be very coordinated. I can't believe anyone thought that this staircase was a good idea. It seems dangerous. In describing this staircase, later, I call it a "Margo Walk."

      Back on the first floor, I meet a nice old woman and her friend. As a test, the woman has us alternate numbers, counting to ten in German. It gets off to a slow start, because I was confused by her accent and I expected she was going to ask for Korean. Then I ask her how to say "forty" in German, because I only know twenty and thirty. [IRL: I didn't even know "thirty"; I was confusing it with "thirteen."] She seems confused, thinking that I should have asked how to say "forty-four," I guess because it's more fun to say. It's an interesting approach to linguistics, I suppose. She has to think a long time about "forty." Has she been speaking English for so long that she forgot her native language?

      Then it's time for lunch, and as a group we set off for the dining room. I wonder if the'll want me to sit next to them. I decide not to risk being unwelcome, and I sit at the end of the table instead. Then I notice that somehow my place doesn't have a plate with food, while almost everyone else's does. I decide I'll just be patient, but in the meantime I'm worried that some of the people here will start fussing over me, thinking that my not having a plate is a dreadful tragedy, or something. I look around the table at the old faces around me, trying to reconcile myself to the idea of old age. I guess for the most part they're good-looking, in their own ways.

      [I think I came back to this lunchroom on various other occasions. I began to feel a bit like a freeloader for eating lunch here almost every day, but on the other hand I would feel rude abandoning everyone just before the meal. And the food was pretty good.]

      Are We Watching Porn?
      Spoiler for sexual content:

      [I remember that I was lucid at some point in the night. I was looking at a natural landscape and appreciating the detail. Then I tried to look upwards, and the lights dimmed and I lost all visuals.]

      Stamitz Viola Concerto (9:23)

      I'm talking to someone in the entrance hall of an old-ish building. I hear a viola behind me, and suddenly I recognize the music as the theme from the first movement of the Stamitz viola concerto. Sweet! I look around at the player, who turns out to be a forty-odd, balding man. I notice that he's playing the accompaniment parts as well, using double stops. For that reason, he's playing well under tempo. Also, sometimes he has to break a long solo note into repeated shorter notes, since the accompaniment underneath is changing. Wow, this guy's good. I feel very inept in comparison.

      Ritual of the Children

      I'm sitting in a common room when a girl comes in from outside. She starts talking to some friends of hers, telling them about a meeting she just attended with a famous person, who actually just sent out a tweet about the meeting that involved a play on words on the girl's name. She's pretty happy about this.

      Later, I come back into the common room. The girl's already there. I sit next to her and try to start up a conversation. We talk about her name. Turns out her name is Sadie Hawkins, which is also the name of a type of school dance. I'm surprised I didn't make this connection the first time I heard it. I suppose that must be because I heard it in the context of a play on words. I try to explain this to her, but my explanation is something along the lines of, "Oh, I guess that makes sense, because . . . you know, it was . . . right?" Immediately afterward, I feel embarrassed for being so terribly awful at communication. I think I was afraid to explain it directly, because that would mean admitting that I eavesdropped on her conversation.

      Then a bunch of ten-year-old kids come into the room and start doing a ritual. Then it's time for lunch, but we have time to shower first, if we want. I do want to, so I try to head down the hallway to the bathroom. But the entrance is like two feet too short for my head. I suppose this hallway must be reserved for the ten-year-olds. They have their own hallway? This is weird. Whatever. I go down the hallway to the left, which takes me to the bathroom.

      It's dark in here, and crowded. I open the first door that I come to, but it's a toilet stall, not a shower. I keep looking for a shower, but instead I come upon a row of turnstiles in the right wall. The kids are lined up behind them, entering one at a time. If this is their entrance, then I probably went past the showers. And I'd better find one soon, because it will be even more crowded here before long.

      Tropical Island

      [I am awake at the beginning of this dream.]

      I know that it is almost time to wake up, but I decide to see if I can fall asleep into a dream landscape of my choosing. [Sort of like a WILD, I guess, but I didn't use that terminology at the time.] I decide that I will attempt to enter the dream quickly by visualizing myself falling from a great height. I picture a field of rolling plains, and in the distance there is a tall group of rocks with almost vertical sides. I am at the top of those rocks, I decide. The view starts to zoom in on the rocks. I still feel like I'm just picturing this in my head, not dreaming it, which frustrates me. Eventually I zoom in on myself, and then I fall backwards off of the cliff. [I can't remember the details of the event.]

      I've landed on a beach, in the surf, though it takes a few moments for me to get my bearings. Somehow this is not what I wanted to happen, but a voice tells me that I should be feeling very comfortable right now (seeing as how this is a tropical island), so I should try to enjoy myself. I wade into the water, but almost immediately I notice something floating in the water near me that looks like dog poop. Eww. I try to wade away from it, but a trick of the current seems to make it follow me. Once, I think I've gotten away from it, only to look again a moment later and find that it's back. Then I notice that there's a current under the surface that's making a lot of stuff collide with my legs on its way past me. Seaweed, perhaps. In any case, it's gross. This is not fun.
    12. Sat Nov 10 (1:30-8:57)

      by , 11-10-2012 at 08:32 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Improv Singing

      I'm in a music class. As a warm up exercise to break the ice at the first class, the instructor has us walk around an outdoor path one at a time, improvising a song. Topics of the song can be stuff about ourselves, expectations for the class, or other similar things, and we should try to make the words rhyme. The path is about a quarter mile long, but it only takes about a minute to stroll around it. I'm one of the first people to go. I'm pretty proud of how my song turned out. The tune was interesting and I managed a few good rhymes, although I'm not sure I got any particular point across with the words--the organization suffered somewhat from the rhyming.
      Tags: classes, music
    13. Sun Oct 21 (12:28-9:42)

      by , 10-21-2012 at 06:28 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Meanwhile, in High School (6:59)

      I'm sitting at a table in a room filled with tables, working on an assignment, when I see someone out of the corner of my eye. It's my mom, sitting at another table, trying to catch my attention by waving something. Exasperated, I acknowledge her, but she wants to start a full blown conversation. I pack up my things and say, apologetically, that "I just can't right now." Predictably, Mom gets furious. I walk over to her table (Dad's there too) and try to explain that I'm old enough now that she can't expect me to share every detail of my life with her. My voice sounds like maybe I'm about to start crying. Nothing doing, though. Looks like I'll have to pack my own lunch and find my own way to school, today.

      I go back downstairs and check the time. It's later than I thought! Forget packing a lunch, I'll barely have time to shower and get dressed. I also think I should do my laundry, but when I look into the basket, I realize that I have more clean clothes than I thought. No need to bother, then. But later, when I actually go to choose an outfit, I have trouble finding clean shorts. I'll have to do my laundry tomorrow, which will be harder since it's a weekday and I'll be busy.

      Dad drives me to school. I'm sitting all the way in the back of the car, and I'm surprised to see some orange traffic cones passing by my window. Some road work near the left turn just before the high school's parking lot. Looks like Dad's doing what he's supposed to be doing.

      I take a seat in the classroom. I've decided that while I'm back home, I may as well sit in on some Spanish classes at my old high school to get in some extra practice. The teacher, a dark-haired man, begins the class by introducing himself and explaining about the course textbooks. Apparently he wrote one of them--part of a series of textbooks on a variety of subjects, all published in the same format but written by various guest authors. At one point, the teacher switches to English for a bit. His accent is kind of cute. Then we go around the class and introduce ourselves. I don't know anyone there, obviously. When it comes to be my turn, I explain that I'm actually a college student. There's something of a commotion from another student in the class, and I wonder if maybe he's doing the same thing as I am and I should have recognized him? That would be embarrassing.

      At one point, the teacher's been talking about something, and he asks the class which of us consider ourselves to be "a member of that crowd?" I'm one of the few who raises a hand. A few minutes later, I realize that he might have been asking which of us have had sex, but with so much circumlocution that I didn't realize it at the time. Oops. Well, if so, I'm sorry for misrepresenting myself, but there's not much I can do about it now. Besides, I'm in college, they'll have expected it of me, anyway.

      The teacher starts a presentation, and everyone puts away their drinks. Except one is still on the table, and one of the students accidentally knocks it over, spilling soda pop everywhere. The teacher interrupts his lecture to go find cleaning supplies, and I try to help out by mopping up some with a napkin. I hope that my helpfulness is a mark of being more mature than the majority of students in the classroom. But the teacher holds out his hand to throw away the napkin for me, and I let him take it, even though it sort of undermines what I was doing. Anyway, the napkin wasn't very absorbent, so now there's pop on my hands. I need to find a sink. I find one in the hall only a few feet away from the classroom.

      A lot of the students are handing out out here until the presentation starts again. I look around and see an office whose name plaque carries a very strange title. I wonder if high schools can hire people to do things as strange as that because they're government-funded. Someone walks past me and into the office, and I wonder. I also talk to one of the students outside. They tell me they wanted to go to the big concert today, because it featured a big presentation about Mormonism. I had heard about the concert, but I didn't know it was about Mormonism, and now I'm kind of sad I missed it, too. [IRL: The concert is this afternoon, and it has nothing to do with Mormonism.]

      When we go back into the classroom, there's a stage at one end, complete with curtains and a podium. A man at the podium tells us that as a surprise, Mitt Romney has come with his campaign team to give a presentation. After this introduction, a few people walk out on stage. I'm not sure which one is Romney [although IRL obvs I know what he looks like], and the introduction kind of trailed off, so it's not surprising that the applause is slow to start. It's also very quiet, and peters out quickly. One of the campaign people says "Wow," loudly and sarcastically. Well, I'm not sure what Romney expected. We're mostly Democrats here at my university.

      They launch into the presentation, which is an animated, rhetorical speech delivered while the campaigners circle and crisscross the room, making sure to invite each audience member personally to agree with what they're saying. It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. Somewhere, I've found a pillow, and I clutch it to my stomach like it's some kind of security blanket. I stare at the floor, only half listening. I feel like I've read this argument before, somewhere, anyway. Something about how the Democrats are trying to convince you not to vote Republican because of what the Republicans /won't/ do, but when election day comes, you need to vote based on what /will/ happen. And so on. One of the campaigners notices my aloofness, so he gets up in my face and tries to engage me by giving me a manly punch on the shoulder. I look at him expressionlessly and say in a carefully controlled voice, "Please don't do that again." The man puts on a mock-surprised face and looks around at people nearby as if to invite them to start bullying me, but in the end he just leaves.

      From behind, a woman crooks an elbow around my neck and good-naturedly shakes me a bit. Addressing herself to someone I can't see, she asks, "Is this called 'egging?'" (as in, "egging someone on"). Ah, so she's playfully imitating the campaigner. The person says yes, it is, so she laughs and releases her hold on my neck. Pressing herself against my side, she murmurs, "There's someone touching you right now, and you don't seem to mind." Bemused, I try to think of a socially proper way to respond that it's okay because she's a woman. But before I can, she lets go of me, and I can finally turn to get a good look at her. To my delight, I definitely recognize her from somewhere. While I'm snapping my fingers and trying to place where that was, she just introduces herself again as [XXXX]. Surprised, I tell her I remember her as a campaign assistant for [XXXX]. She laughs and says no, then dances off to the other side of the room with another girl. I'm reminded of the friendship between Meekakitty and Nanalew. Suddenly, the dream ends, and I wake up. For a moment, I think that it's only been about two and a half hours since I fell asleep. But that must have been a FA, because it was more like six and a half.

      Supermarket (8:15) (LUCID)

      I'm in a supermarket, and at some level I'm aware that this is a dream. As I walk through the crowded checkout lanes, I look closely at all of the faces that I pass. Each one is unique and distinctive and interesting, and I wonder whether they all come from people I passed on the street in waking life. I read somewhere on a forum that that's where they come from. The dream seems pretty stable, but I feel compelled to keep moving, or else it will fall apart. I walk up to a cashier and ask her for the credit card that a customer just gave to her. "Sure, one moment," she says, and then she hands me something, but it's not a credit card. I leave the checkout lanes and continue through the store. It crosses my mind that this counts as a lucid dream. Cool; I haven't had one of those in a while.

      I decide to call Mom on my cell phone. I worry that maybe I'm actually sleep-calling her in waking life, too, so I try to think of conversation topics that wouldn't sound too bizarre. Meanwhile, I'm still walking quickly down one side of the store, looking around at everything. The store's wide entrance is coming up on my left. I can't think of anything else to talk about, and Mom seems more confused than anything, so I just say goodbye to her and hang up. I leave the store.

      Somebody's angry at me for turning out into the road in front of him, but I'm sure I wouldn't have done it close enough that you would actually call it "cutting him off." I decide to play out the scenario to see what actually happened. I get in the car and start driving toward the hilltop road that passes near the supermarket's parking lot. Indeed, there's almost a solid line of cars coming that direction, with one little space in the middle that perhaps I could grab if I timed it right. But there's something strange about the road configuration that makes me think I wouldn't be able to accelerate quickly enough to avoid pissing someone off. Okay, better to avoid that.

      I stop the car and get out. There's a mid-sized lake to the right of the road with a big yacht anchored near the shore. A bunch of sailors are walking around over there, presumably on shore leave. I start walking along the narrow path between the lake and the side of the supermarket, going over to see what's going on. But then one of the sailors starts walking along the path toward me, shouting something about me not being allowed to come this way. An irritating fellow, but only doing his job, I suppose.

      I keep walking, but suddenly I need to poop. I remember how in the past this has always made me panic and wake up, only to find that I didn't have to use the bathroom at all. Well, I know better, now, so I'll just go to the bathroom in the dream. I squat in the middle of a grassy lawn and start doing my business. The sailor is still walking towards me and shouting, so I interrupt him to warn him that even though I've avoided behaving "beaverishly," if he keeps it up, I may have to. (Apparently, in this situation, "behaving beaverishly" means that I'll strip totally naked just to annoy him even more.) Going to the bathroom is taking a long time. Some of the sailors are running close nearby. I hope for their sake that they don't accidentally step in any of the poop. The sailor still won't leave me alone, so I carry out my threat by pulling my T-shirt over my head. This makes my vision go completely black. Oh, darn.

      I wake up to a confusion of covers. After a moment, I figure out that somehow I've come into a squatting position. Uh oh. Looking down, I see that my worst fears have come true--there's quite a bit of poop on my covers. Despairingly, I try to wrap up some of it using the sheets, but it's not enough. This will be hard to deal with. Then it occurs to me that there's something distinctly nightmarish about this situation, and I tell myself exasperatedly, "Come on, wake up for real." And I do. [No, I never did have to go to the bathroom. Why my dreams always do this to me, I don't know.]

      Pop Quiz (9:42) (LUCID)

      A smart math major I know is pacing the front of a classroom. He's quizzing me about details from my previous dreams tonight. I know I definitely missed a few when I wrote them in my dream journal, so this will be a perfect opportunity to recover them--my unconscious itself is telling me what they were! He mentions something about a homework assignment, and a few different people named Erik. [Ironically, I can't remember the details of these details.] It occurs to me to wonder if he's even telling the truth. I have no recollection of the events of which he speaks, so he could easily be inventing them, and I'd never know. Still, I wake up and write them in my dream journal. Only, it was a FA, and when I actually wake up, I can't really remember them any more.

      Updated 10-21-2012 at 06:36 PM by 57256

      lucid , false awakening
    14. Thurs Sep 27

      by , 09-30-2012 at 01:23 AM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)
      Math Battle

      I forgot to bring my sword when I entered this dungeon. Swords haven't been allowed in the previous dungeons, so I've gotten in the habit of not bringing them. But now I'm worried that the creatures in this dungeon will be too difficult to kill without one. And a humanoid creature just appeared out of the darkness to attack me. It looks familiar, like the Draugr from Skyrim, but the name that identifies it is unfamiliar to me, so I'm guessing it must be a higher-level version of what I've fought before. Uh oh!

      We exchange a few blows. It's not an easy battle, but I think I'll be able to defeat it. I must have gotten used to hand-to-hand combat while going through those other dungeons.

      I know that there's a girl somewhere in the dungeon, an adversary of mine, who was somehow responsible for designing the dungeon. Eventually I catch up to her, near a wall with three thick, knotted ropes hanging from the ceiling in front of it. It's the final round of the math competition. I, the girl, and another guy who won the competition last year are the only three contestants remaining. We stand around for a bit while the rules are explained. There are three different math problems to chose from, one at the top of each rope. The first person to climb a rope and solve a problem wins.

      Without warning, last year's winner says, "Well, let's go," and starts the stopwatch. It takes a couple of seconds for me to realize what happened. When I finally do, I feel like that was unfair of him, but I don't say anything--I just grab a rope and start climbing. It also seems strange that one of the competitors is in charge of the clock. The girl is behind both of us, somehow out of the running.

      The problem at the top of my rope has many diagrams of pyramids constructed by stacking lots of spheres, only sometimes a group of spheres will be missing from the pyramid. As I'm struggling to understand what the problem is asking, the other guy says, "Why are you working on that problem? This one's much easier." Startled, I decide without thinking to switch to the other problem. The other problem has a diagram of a lot of dominoes arranged in a complicated pattern. You're looking at the pattern from off to the side at an angle (rather than top-down). I have trouble understanding what this problem is asking, too.

      A bit later, I learn that only a few seconds remain. My answer sheet is still blank. I decide to leave it that way. Not a very good show, but I'll just try to do better next time. I'll try not to let people like that guy throw me off by making me second-guess which problem to do.

      I go back to my seat as we wait for the results to be announced. For a moment, I'm confused, because it looks like there's someone already sitting in it. But then I look again, and it's empty. I must not have been looking at the right place.

      The teacher starts discussing how to use graphing calculators to perform addition of "structs." I listen to the first couple of sentences, but then I tune out, because I already know how to do this. Suddenly I think I'm dreaming, and I wake myself up.
      Tags: classes, math
    15. Sat. Sep. 8

      by , 09-08-2012 at 03:33 PM (Glieuaeiel's DJ)

      I'm sitting at a desk in a high-school classroom. The teacher is an athletic-looking male, and it's a math class. But I'm not paying attention to that, because I feel something hurting me from behind. Some dumb kid thinks it would be fun to bully me, eh? I half turn in my seat, then casually and carefully bite the finger that's hurting me. I only catch a tiny bit of skin in the bite, but I think it's enough.

      "Thank you, for not doing that again," I say. No reply.

      A few minutes later, I feel a prick of pain in one of my shoulders that won't go away. Apparently I didn't scare them off last time. I have no idea how they're causing this particular sensation of pain, but I try to get rid of it by rubbing my shoulder against the seat behind me. It stops. After a second, I decide it's time for a confrontation. I turn all the way around and grab the kid behind me by the front of his clothes. He looks to be about fourteen or fifteen, with his hair cut long, a bit like Justin Bieber. He had been laughing quietly to himself, but he's not any more.

      "What's your name, kid?" I ask. He just keeps looking around, shifting his eyes and not making eye contact. He doesn't look particularly scared. I'm trying to give him an angry, threatening look, and I'm surprised at how successful I seem to be. It's not a look I've had much experience with.

      I look around to see if he had an accomplice. The guy sitting to the kid's right seems to be laughing to himself as well, so I ask him, "How about you, huh? What's your name?" He too stops laughing, but he doesn't answer, either. I notice that both kids have the same basic haircut, and also the same hair color: light blond dyed a faint purple. Anyway, since neither of them are responding, I suppose I should start thinking about how to deliver the rest of my speech.

      I get up to walk a few feet away, conscious that other people in the room are probably about to start noticing the confrontation. When I turn around, I'm surprised to find things have escalated: an ally of mine's found a friend of his, and they've ganged up on one of the boys who was bullying me. One of them is pinning the boy's arms behind his back, and the other is winding up to punch him. I suppose they figure they'll get him to talk by torturing him. But that's no good, so I run back and shove them apart with my hands. Now the teacher's definitely coming, so I only have a few moments to finish dealing with the situation my way. I start lecturing the kid from the seat behind me, even as the teacher runs up and tells us in an exasperated, angry voice to get back to our seats. It's clear he just wants to end the disruption; he doesn't really care what caused it. I think I should finish my lecture, first.

      I [falsely] wake up. I spend a few moments trying to remember the details of the dream, then I open my dream diary. I'm surprised not to see a date on the page: I usually write tomorrow's date right before I go to bed at night. But then I look at some of the text already on the page and remember that I've already written down some dreams from earlier tonight. So I put down a new bullet point and write down some details from this most recent dream, including "slight purplish hair." My handwriting is unusually small. I hope I'll be able to read it later.

      Now, I'm not sure what time it is, and I'm not sure whether I have school today. It's the day after I flew back to Chicago for school. [IRL, I'm still on summer vacation.] I'm mostly moved into my room, except I'm pretty sure some of my stuff is still in storage elsewhere in the city. I'd planned to get that before classes started, so I really hope it's not Monday. But then, I'd planned to fly back on a Friday, so maybe I have the whole weekend left? I'm not sure, so I look for my cell phone to check the date.

      The room is large and rectangular, the headboard of my queen-sized bed midway up the longer side. My first cell phone tells me nothing. My second cell phone, a red one, confuses me. [IRL, I don't have a second cell phone.] I can't find the date or time anywhere. Then I see the word "recording" on the screen, and I realize I must have left it recording video all through the night. I wonder what size the file is by now.
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