• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views

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    1. Stroking Bruce Willis - 05182012

      by , 05-19-2012 at 07:28 AM
      After poor rest for a couple days and a major headache I managed to do a WBTB and have some great lucidity.

      Plus, I continue to dream of celebrities. At least this time they were naked.

      [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
      [FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I find myself in my old house, the one I grew up in for nearlyall of my adolescence. The living roomis arranged differently, and it’s messier than I would like. I’ve apparentlyjust woken up from a nap or something and I’ve been sleeping on the floor, thepillow and bedmat beneath me testimony to this fact. I am grumpy, and some ofmy disgruntled feelings are directed at my son.[/SIZE][/FONT]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]In front of my pillow is his backpack, and seeing as how heisn’t in the room I decide it’s time I check to see what he’s been taking toand from school. I pull the zipper down on the black bag and I am greeted withpapers, folders, and some trash that is not out of place at all among hisstuff. I’m not interested in any of this, and I dig deeper, reaching for whatlies at the bottom of the bag. Here I find some plastic toys, and I pull outpiece after piece of what appears to be a babies toy desighned for teething. Ican’t even fathom why he would be taking so many baby toys to school, brightlycolored and clearly intended for someone much younger than him. All I can do isshake my head in disbelief.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Beyond these pieces of toy I also find a blue plasticdrinking cup, and this literally makes me roll my eyes. I keep finding thesecups everywhere, and I just want it gone. With a flick of my right hand I shootthe cup into the air, intending for it to land a few feet from me, but the fanabove and the air conditioner carry it further towards the middle of the roomwhere it hits Jen on her side as she sleeps in the recliner. She stirs andturns her face towards me, sleepily asking, “What?!” [/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, or even for thecup to hit you. It was the fan.” [/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Indeed the fan above is spinning quite fast, though as I saythis I doubt myself, thinking maybe I did mean for it to hit her. I can seethat there’s no way, physically, that the wind from the combined fans couldever send the cup to hit her, especially from the angle with which itdescended. The only thing I can presume is that I did it on purpose.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Next time don’t throw it so hard!” She rolls over to goback to sleep, still covered by the red and green horse blanket.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I look at my hand to wonder how I could have made the cupfly so far, and this induces lucidity. I quickly count my fingers, noting thateverything appears normal. I know I don’tbecome aware of my hands often so I’m pleased to recognize the sign for what itwas. My right hand touches my left and I’m surprised to find my hand is solid,warm, and unyielding. What I see as I turn my hand around almost makes me startleout of the dream.[/SIZE][/FONT]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]On the palm of my left hand I have a sore, almost like adark blister, directly below my little finger. I use my right hand to squeezeit and it bursts like a large pimple, pus and blood squirting into my righthand. I’m disgusted but I don’t feel sick despite what I have done, and myfirst thought is to grab a tissue to clean up the mess. I know I’m dreaming yetI look around to make sure no one has seen me, feeling slightly embarrassed tohave a burst hand-pimple. A vague thought about a magician crosses my mind butI can’t seem to find anything to connect it to.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I head to my bedroom, the one down the hall and on the left,just where it had been when I grew up. The bed and walls are primarily thesame, as are some of the belongings, but the shelves along the west wall arevery different. I had put shelves up once in real life but the shelves I’mseeing are sunk into my wall. Boxes line them from one end to the other, andspringy black coils stick out of a couple of them.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]It turns out that when I left my old job I took quite a fewof the binding supplies with me. Black binding coils of every size fill theshelves, though this causes me no great concern. What does surprise me is thatI have a box of the special order vinyl pockets we used for maps and largedrwaings, and it is full. These vinyl pockets were quite expensive, I remember,and I feel surprised I took them at all. Still, they are quite useful. [/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]As I flip through them, using my finger to page themone-by-one, someone behind me asks, “What will you do when you run out?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Oh, I don’t know. I guess I could just ask Curt to get me afew. He still works there.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“How many would you get?”[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Not more than five at most.” I say this knowing I wouldn’twant him to get in trouble and that five seemed a reasonable number to walkaway with.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I stand up from my kneeling position and let my gaze passover the shelves towards the door to my room, slightly closed. Something lookswrong with it and at first I’m unsure if it’s crooked. As I stare I realize itis indeed slanted, and I walk up to it with greater curiosity. When I approach theproblem becomes clear. Someone has attached the hinges of the door directly tothe wall using drywall mounts that are starting to pull out of the wall. Themounts don’t look like the usual hooks that spread out on the inside of a wall,appearing instead like translucent plugs that merely push into a hole.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I think to myself, “I can fix that. Not today, but somedaysoon.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I walk back into the living room and stand near the back ofthe recliner chair. I can see my bed-mat in the far corner, and my son is on mypillow with his head, his butt sticking up in the air.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Son, get off my pillow!” I don’t shout but the tone in myvoice suggests he should comply quickly. [/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]To my right and in front of me is a large TV, almost like asmall movie screen, and it is showing an old black and white movie starringBruce Willis and Michael Caine. Both men are detectives trying to find amurderer, and both men are naked. They hold a conversation in a room with apotted plant and a small upholstered bench, their penises dangling from side toside as if in perpetual motion.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My scene shifts and I am co-host on a talk show, though Ifeel slightly underdressed in my tank-top and shorts. Still, none of theaudience seems to mind so I just go with it. Behind me is a platform with lotsof colored lights and what appears to be a game-show set, though I can’t figureout what the game is. It seems unimportant as I realize I’m standing next tothe special guest, Bruce Willis.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I look up at him and I become lucid again. I know I’mdreaming because there’s no way this could ever happen, especially not with methis close to him dressed so casually. What especially catches my eye is howhandsome he is, and I know he doesn’t look this good in real life. The man nextto me is tall, has good hair, is smiling charismatically, and looks great in hisblue jeans and white button-down shirt.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I hug him with strength and passion, smelling him as I feelhis body heat transfer to me through our clothes. He feels good, real good, andI sink down to his knees, still hugging his leg. I look up at him as I turnaround, my left hand coming up and stroking him right beneath the crotch withthe gentlest touch against the bulge in his pants. At this moment I so wantsomething to happen between us. He doesn’t flinch, and I take this as a sign ofhis acceptance towards future actions.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Remembering my role as a host I make the connection that Ineed to please my audience, and this makes me think of my friend Chris. I knowhe would want to see Bruce Willis in person, though I suspect I could never getthe two to meet directly even after my crotch-stroking experience. I decide Ican do the next best thing and I conjure two audience passes out of thin air. Imake sure they both have the correct wording on them and then I send them offinto the ether. Glancing into the audience I see he has arrived and is sittinga few rows behind the platform where I am still clinging to Bruce’s leg. Ismile and wave at him.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]And then I wake up.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
    2. Drive-in restaurant - 05172012

      by , 05-19-2012 at 07:24 AM
      A simple dream, though an interesting one.

      [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Curt was driving his truck. I knew this because he passed meon the road headed to the farm bank.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“See?” I said to someone I was with. “There’s Curt with histruck. He’s always willing to help out when someone needs it. “[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Curt worked at the Subway located in the small buildingadjacent to where Terminix used to be back in the 80’s. He was walking out ofthe building with his wife, one arm wrapped around her shoulder. He lookedhappy to be off work.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“I need some sandwiches and a truck.” I was in a hurry toget my task done. I hoped the desperation in my voice would convince him of myserious need.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Hey, M-A-B! Here you go. The truck’s in the back lot.” Hegestured over his shoulder in the direction of the back parking lot, slightlybeyond a chain-link fence, and then tossed me a set of keys. He continuedwalking with his wife, presumably towards her car and a night out on the town.He was smiling the whole time, and I was happy that he hadn’t changed in theyears since we stopped working together.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I was so happy not to be driving my own vehicle. I left theSubway and almost immediately I found myself on a country road, lined mostly byfarms and occasional homes obscured by clumps of oak trees. Around this timethe truck I was driving switched from being Curt’s to a rental vehicle, atleast in my mind.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I was driving along a road I identified as Steck, butinstead of the busy multi-lane road which exists in real life the road was asingle lane track constructed on a dirt berm designed to prevent flooding. Theroad was probably six or seven feet higher than the surrounding land which wasmostly dry scrub and fields that had been allowed to go fallow. Along each sideof the road was a steep pitch that dipped a few inches below the level of theadjacent fields, creating a small ditch just big enough to prevent mostvehicles from properly descending the hill. I was glad I was driving a rentedJeep Grand Cherokee because I didn’t want to hurt my vehicle going over thatditch. I knew I would drive my front fender directly into the ground had Idecided to drive off the road.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Since I’m in this Jeep I’m going to give it a try.” I don’tknow who I was speaking to. There was someone else with me but they weren’timportant enough to have a face or a name. I turned the wheel and drove rightoff the road, bouncing down the hill and then leveling out, a feat I could nothave done with any other vehicle, including my own. I was glad I made it butnow I had to drive through the scrub field and on through a patch of woods. Iwasn’t sure I could make it the whole way.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]When I came to the woods I chose a path which looked thinwith vegetation, comparatively, and simply stepped on the accelerator, hopingmy momentum would carry me through any rough spots. I bounced through someweeds and splashed over a foot-deep pond of muck before going up a slight rise.Here I rumbled over the train tracks and on into Doc’s Back Yard, though itlooked more like Freddie’s Place, an indoor/outdoor restaurant and bar locatedin south Austin. The outdoor seating was surrounded by tall oaks reaching 50feet plus, creating a nice shaded area perfect for an afternoon beer.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Instead of enjoying the food or drinks I got out of thevehicle and walked straight through to the front parking lot. I needed to getto the post office across the street, though I could no longer find my package.I figured the logical place to find what I’d lost was the dumpster to my rightand I opened the metal lid on the big metal box. The trash was unusually cleanto come from a restaurant and I had no trouble searching through it, locatingseveral things I wanted but had accidentally thrown out. Unfortunately I couldnot find my package, and I gave up my search feeling sad. Still, I had threerecord albums to listen to and I wanted to go show them to my friend David. [/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I left the dumpster and headed towards the street, but thetraffic was too intense to cross. I knew I needed a car to get there so Iwalked to a nearby white Toyota and opened the door, figuring whoever itbelonged to wouldn’t mind because they parked it in a public place. I knew thishappens every day in the city.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I couldn’t find the keys to the car but I figured all thesenew modern cars had a button to start them so I began searching around thebuttons on the center console. I found the A/C, the radio, and the charger, butI never could find one for ignition. I began to get mad and decided I wouldsteal all the coins from the little compartment between the seats. Let’s seethem use a parking meter now, I thought.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I heard a loud sound on the window and turned to find a guywho looked like a dirty bum except he wore an apron. I wasn’t sure if he ownedthe car or just wanted to get in and go for a ride, but I didn’t want to findout either way. He was starting to drool on the window and that made me want toget out of there.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]And then I woke up.[/FONT][/SIZE]
      [FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
      Tags: austin, curt, driving