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I was in a mall. Running or escaping within the mall. There were securities. I was going down an escalator. I passed by the "owner." Somehow reminds me of Mark Zuckerberg. A repeat of the scene. I was with some friends. We entered a church inside the mall. Then I was seeing a park, with benches. A few people. Orange lights and shadows. There was a person.

I was being led into a building that was apparently the new A-level college that I had chosen to attend. The entrance hall was a huge room with a two story high ceiling. In the middle was an escalator leading to the next floor. My old biology teacher was leading me up the escalator and talking about how I had to be more organised with my studies this time around.

One of the subjects I was to be studying was art. My teacher in that lesson looked like my old teacher in my Middle School, Mr. Crew. I escaped from this lesson and went to the history block, which looked like the history block in high school. Outside one of the classrooms was a group of people waiting for a lesson. One of them was a friend from work, Tara. She didn't look too happy to see me, as if I was doing something wrong and inconsiderate. It was the same sort of way that my old biology teacher acted.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in something like an atrium, at the foot of an escalator, with a big crowd of people. The atrium was gigantic. The walls were made of glass, and they let in the deep blue sky and sunlight, though somehow shaded, maybe because the glass was tinted slightly. The escalator was also enormous.

Bill Clinton stood near me in the crowd. We may actually have been walking near each other as we had gone down some corridor to get to the atrium. Clinton was wearing a pink polo shirt and kind of pale blue jeans. As we stood before the escalator he said something historical about the atrium, and possibly about the bridge outside the atrium. The bridge was likely the Brooklyn Bridge.

I thought the stuff Clinton was saying was pretty interesting. I tried to stand closer to him as we all went up the escalator. But I felt like I was being annoying, so I kind of backed away from him. We got up to the top of the escalator. There was a small landing and then another, smaller escalator. I think I took the opportunity of this landing to back even farther away from Clinton, to be less annoying.

Somehow I ended up out on the Brooklyn Bridge. The bridge was colossal. I could only see portions of it as I traveled under it, either via car or subway. The road was covered in dark shadow.

I was then on a subway train that was running above ground. This eventually turned into a bus. There were only two other passengers on the bus: both were male friends of mine. We, or they, also knew the bus driver. He was driving us through a kind of quiet part of town, like some area far out in Queens or farther out on Long Island. The sun was shining orange-yellow like it was early morning.

The guys and the bus driver were talking back and forth with each other. The bus driver finally asked me, "Hey, should I be dropping you off at the college with these guys?" I couldn't think of any reason why I'd be going to the college, but I didn't want to disappoint the guy by saying no. I may have been really curled up in a seat, so that my knees were against the back of the seat in front of me.

Dream #2

I was in a department store with Oprah Winfrey. We stood at the end of a bunch of clothing displays, at a wall which was a window looking down at some other section of the building of which the department store was a part. There were maybe one or two other people around us.

We finished watching some event down below. I turned to Oprah and thanked her forf inviting me to this event. She was very friendly, but I don't think she said anything. She was gone.

I walked away from the window. I was probably heading out of the store. I saw a black woman looking through some clothing.The woman's back was turned to me. But, for some reason, I thought she was Oprah. So I walked up to her and said, "Oprah, I just want to thank you again for reminding me about this event. If it hadn't been for you--"

But now the woman turned around. She was really short and round. She had very dark skin, and she wore dark sunglasses. She looked pretty mean! She wore a pale denim jacket, jeans, and hat. She yelled at me, "Why are you calling me Oprah? Just because I'm black, I have to be Oprah?"

I was scared, and I backed off pretty quick. I didn't know how to respond. I kind of forgot whether I'd thought the person I'd thought the woman was was Oprah or my old friend and co-worker, CL. I figured it must have been CL, even though I couldn't remember her name. But she didn't look like the mean woman either.

I had walked back to the window I had stood at with Oprah. I think I had figured out that CL had reminded me about this event, and that I had met Oprah there. I figured that if I really wanted to thank CL, I could write her a letter. I either held a letter really close to my face or saw a letter in my mind's eye. The letter was on notebook paper, in pencil, and in really big, loose, scrawly handwriting. I may finally have seen CL's name.

Dream #3

I was in a bedroom in the dark. There was, for some reason, a towel rack right near the light switch. It was my blue towel. In the dim light I saw a bug crawling across the towel. The bug was either a smallish roach or a gigantic bed bug. I was really grossed out, and I wanted to see what kind of bug it was before I killed it.

So I stepped back and flicked a switch on a small wall a couple feet away and in front of the bedroom door. The bedroom light bulb flickered, popped, and went out. To solve this problem, I walked a little bit into the room and pulled a string from the ceiling to turn the light on. The only thing that happened was a little bit of plaster falling on my head.

So I went to the closet to see if I could find a light bulb or some other source of light. I flicked a light switch in the closet, but it didn't turn on, either. But then, somehow, I found some source of light. This light source became like a light bulb inside the closet.

I was looking directly into the top shelf of the closet. There were a lot of lamps, all arranged as if in a shop. The lamps were all small, wooden, on a square base, with a candle-like, wooden cylinder running up about 8cm and ending in the metallic fixture for the bulb.

I grabbed a couple of these, figuring that if I placed these lamps strategically, I could get decent light in the room, though not so much light as I'd get if I had the ceiling ligjht working.

I then saw behind the lamps. There were all kinds of canned foods -- things like SPAM, cocktail weiners, and corned beef hash. I might have seen other provisions. I suddenly realized that whoever had put this room together had put it together as a kind of shelter in case of some kind of disaster, possibly including nuclear war.

Dream #4

I was sitting at a table and eating with my friend H. The table and the lighting of the room remind me of a fast food restaurant or a cafeteria in a place like a school. We may have been eating something like fries and mayonnaise.

H said, "You talk about -----'s (can't remember) movies so much, as if you were such a big fan of Japanese film. But when was the last time you actually went to the theatre to watch a Kurosawa film?"

For some reason I kept getting ----- confused with Ozu. But this director was much more recent. But I also wanted to tell H that I actually had seen Kurosawa films lately. I may have had images from Ran and The Hidden Fortress in my head, though I couldn't actually get their titles correct.

I may have felt, in some way or another, like I was shrinking, or maybe hunching over more and more.

01.05.2011

Romantic dinner with wife, wife's friends and my friends (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I was going to have a romantic dinner with my wife. The restaurant was in the top of a mall.

I was going to bring my friends from waking to that romantic dinner. The mall was huge, it was big windows and huge chandeliers. The mall was maze alike, and it was indoors.

I finally reached the final escalator. The door to the restaurant was huge, and it did not look fancy. Our table was by the very entrance. It was a round table. There was a turkey in the middle and three different bottles of red wine. On the very left edge, there was one wine glass filled up.

Suddenly, my wife's friend appeared, they were not from waking. They were all blond. One of them laughed and flipped the table. I was a little pissed for what happened and got a call from my friends.

I appeared in the middle of the road, meeting with them. We were heading to the mall. Five of some friends I had when I was on my teens where with me. Funny enough, each of them had their real waking life personally, but more exaggerated.

We got to the mall and the escalators did not work well. Something more happened.

There has been a contest to choose the guests who will attend a dinner party with a friendly, very easy-going, gray-haired woman who makes letters out of soft wax. I am at this dinner. There is another woman there who collects little figurines, including one that looks like a classic Hollywood actress. I mess up the top bar of the wax “E” that the first woman has made, making it all bent and chewed up so that she has to redo that part, but she doesn't mind because she loves doing her art. [It wasn't until I woke up and was writing down this dream that I recognized this woman as former Survivor contestant Gillian Larson, who was the guest speaker at a lunch seminar I went to last week.]

Third-person perspective. I'm watching a teenage girl walk around in a mall or a department store. She rides up an escalator, and I can see the bright-green lights glowing from the spaces between the steps. All the time she's walking around, I can hear a voice narrating her story. The words of the story are written in the first person with the teenage girl as the point-of-view character, but the voice reading them is Scott Sigler's. [Not surprisingly, as I just finished getting caught up on the latest episode of the Ancestor podcast an hour before I went to bed.] According to the narration, this girl “eats, sleeps, and breathes TV:” she has a name very similar to that of a specific, well-known TV character, she watches a lot of TV shows, and other aspects of her life are very similar to the situation on various TV shows. I'm aware that what Scott is reading is the first chapter of Ancestor. [The actual first chapter of Ancestor is absolutely nothing like this.]

Type: regular dream.
Lucidity: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Vividness: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

I was in a convention center with pretty high ceilings; it actually looked like an art gallery. The floors were yellow cream tile, the walls white, and the lighting was coming from many light bulbs in circular encasements right in the ceiling.

There were two floors to this building: the main floor, and the basement. The main floor was of the layout described above, but the basement was mostly shiny beige-painted concrete, and had a much lower ceiling, only around ten feet from the ground. I was taking an escalator down to the basement, and while I was standing there, going down, I was going over some sort of plan. "Build" is the only word I can remember, but it definitely wasn't anything bad.

On the way down I saw Gilbert Huph (Mr. Incredible's boss) sitting on the escalator rail, going up, while I was going downwards. He looked at me and said, "did you just say bomb"? I didn't, so I spent a few moments saying "no" and trying to convince him. Ultimately he just laughed, hopped off the escalator at the end, and walked away.

Okay, I remember bits of my dream pretty clearly I think.

We were in the Philippines. But at the same time in my unit in Perth. It was a flat, one of those ones up high in the sky, and the building it was part of was joined to a sister-building.
The Singaporean guy that was going to rent it out text messaged me to say that he had declined for now unless my place could surpass the fact that the other places had guinea pigs and rabbits for him to watch (something like that lol). My mum complained that I didn't clean the place up enough, which was true.

Haha, my brother had somehow swapped bodies with someone else, and was really fat. xD He is quite thin/muscly IRL.
We were going to some store on the same level as the flat. It was owned by some rich fliipinos. You had to do a blood test (just those ones where they prick your finger like for diabetics) and there was a security guard standing outside that would do that for you.
For some reason the owner of the store wanted me to go in even without doing the blood test. But I needed to go back to the flat for some reason.
And then I cam back with my bro and the two maid's children, em-em and adrian, and we went through.

There was this cool escalator thingy there. I recall the place was quite shiny or something. I can't remember what happened here though.

Afterwards, I watched an old man slide down the escalator thing awesomely; he did a jump as he went over the slopes. It was like a slide at Adventure World. There were three parts to it. Some children followed after him, but the girl did it on her feet and not sitting down like the man had done. I thought that I would've been too scared to do that at her age, and even now

Then I met up with someone around my brother's age and he had a watergun.


I was sitting with my brother, em-em and adrian, GB and I think someone else but I'm not sure who. We kept on walking round and round the table, working out who was going to sit where and next to who. I think AD was there. He's some guy that I went to high school with and not very many people liked him. But anyway, I think I sat next to him, but I am unsure of this.
We were carrying our meals in our hand (chicken with rice) as we walked around the table, and there were drinks there in shots. Some were coca-cola and some were some type of clear alcoholic drink. Either wine or vodka. I remember thinking that I was going to drink the coke coz I'm not too fond of alcohol.



Now here are some keywords that I wrote down, so that I could go back to them and write about these dreams. But it didn't work
Book.
Police on highway.