• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




    View RSS Feed

    Recent DJ Posts

    1. Disneyland Paris, People Peeing, and Constant Dream Issues

      by , 01-06-2013 at 07:57 AM
      01-04-2013 -- [This one contained a bit of everything, failed dream checks, eventually becoming lucid, the switch from writing my dreams on envelopes to using a fully proper dream journal again for the first time in years (bought two weeks ago), remembering several other recent dreams in the dream ... all kinds of great things.]

      Out somewhere with Dale, seems to be a shopping mall. People are gathering around in the area, and taking seats in much the same area we are. It seems some sort of show or presentation is about to take place. Some people start talking to us, but whatever we're waiting for never seems to actually happen. There is one lady here who seems to be an interpreter for the deaf, who is talking in sign language, and Dale is replying the same way. Odd.

      Her pants are half-undone, and her underwear is peaking out, yet oddly she seems to be wearing sweats. This is the first point where I start wondering if this might be a dream. The thing ends, and Dale disappears. I'm wondering where he might have gone to. I walk a little bit south, and end up taking a seat on a curb, waiting for Dale to turn up again. Instead, Dave D, a childhood friend, wanders up, recognizes me, and starts a conversation.

      We talk for a while, and he eventually morphs into a high school friend, Chris V. I am getting kind of hungry, and want something to snack on, so I reach into my pocket and bring out a small brown sack. It turns out this contains the jawbreakers I bought a couple of days ago in this dream. They aren't very good, have kind of part dissolved, and are rather sticky. Yuck. Won't make jawbreakers there again!

      Chris is drinking a beer, and I continue to talk to him. He reaches the point of having to go to the bathroom, but for some reason he doesn't want to get up, so he just kind of hauls it out and starts peeing on the ground and himself, still chatting away like nothing is happening. As it starts to spread, I grab my backpack and put it on my shoulder to keep it, and my new dream journal, dry. After he is done, he stands up and walks away without a word. Very strange.

      His pool of pee is still spreading, so I step off the curb and start to walk across the street. I pass some people carrying a bag with the Carl's Jr logo on it, and wonder if I am back in California? On the other side of the street, there is a kind of courtyard, so I take a seat on a bench that is maybe 30 or 35 feet in from the street. I am far enough back that I am afraid nobody will find me.

      But just a minute or two later, Dale walks right up to me, and we start walking and talking, back to the area where the dream first started. I tell him this weird situation I just ran into with Dave ... erm ... I mean Chris. Wait a minute.... As I realize Dave turned into a Chris, I really ask myself if I am dreaming, and try to push a couple of my fingers through my palm. Nothing happens. So I guess I am not dreaming.

      Dale and I are in Disneyland Paris, and I ask him where we are going now. "Don't say Fantasyland, please ... from here, that's the furthest place in the whole park!" His reply is that he thinks the furthest place in the park from here is actually Splash Mountain, which is the other direction. I don't argue with him, but I know a short-cut to Splash, which begins right about where we are. But it seems we are walking to Fantasyland.

      We reach the new Orleans Square type of area (which actually doesn't exist in Disneyland Paris) and find ourselves standing outside the Phantom Manor. The line is quite long, stretching outside the queue, so we probably won't go on that. Somehow we find ourselves listening to an argument involving different cast members and guests about homosexuality, and I'm not getting involved with the conversation, but can't help but think it is not something to argue about in the middle of a theme park.

      Dale has disappeared again. I glance at the line, and he isn't there. I glance in the direction we were walking, and he is nowhere in front of me. I have no idea where he has gotten to. I continue walking, hoping to find him, and pull out my cell phone to give him a call, but my cell phone keeps cutting out. Just then I get a call, but it isn't from him. It is from a performer at the Adventurers Club that was trying to warn me off her in a previous dream [might have been in this dream, though I didn't remember the warning off bit when I was typing up the dream]. We're arguing about how strong a weak a person she is, but again the call keeps breaking up, so the conversation can't really get anywhere.

      By this point, I am now deep into Fantasyland, near the very end of the park. There has still been no sign of Dale, but I am trying to push both my cell phone and its charger back in my pockets, when I find the wires running from my pocket to another guy's hands. He was trying to pick my pocket and got caught. He tries to act nonchalant, but really, how caught in the act can you get?

      As I continue walking, a couple of other people are trying to steal things from me, and I am starting to get worried. I remember reading about how bad the pickpockets are in some tourist areas in Europe, and moment by moment I am carrying more and more stuff, which would make me easier and easier to steal from. I think I now have a video game system in my hands, as well, or maybe a microwave. Very bulky.

      I've now managed to wander right out of the theme park, into a residential street, and since there were no limiting gates or turnstiles, I am hoping it is a residential area for cast members. But whatever it is, I obviously don't belong here. I turn around and start back for the archway that I just walked through to exit the park. But there are now several punks trying to steer me off the path, and away from the gate, to somewhere they can mug me for my stuff, since pickpocketing hasn't succeeded. I push past them, and force my way back into the park.

      I find myself being followed by Pluto, who it turns out was one of the 'people' trying to pickpocket me (find myself thinking of one of the Capital Steps parodies, 'You're a Pest'), but now that we're back in the park, he has to behave. I need to use the restroom by this point, so I go into one, and find they have very, very large stalls, but with very low partitions, so while in them, you can see the rest of the restroom. I remember something about people reaching under stall doors to steal stuff, so I am trying to set down all my stuff far enough away from the stall door that it is safe.

      Again, I have more and more stuff with me, including my backpack, my dream journal, a towel, extra clothes, more electronics. It almost seems to be multiplying. Others are now walking in, and some of them are women. I again start to wonder if I am dreaming, since this is one of my common dream situations, but I think 'I'm in Paris. They could have some unisex bathrooms. As long as there is no nudity where I can see it, this probably isn't a dream.' Then one of the ladies takes off her top, and we've got boobs!

      I notice a sound, glance down, and notice I am peeing on the floor, facing away from the toilet, watching these people. I turn around and finish my business, while thinking more and more that I am dreaming. I try pushing my fingers through my palm, and again it doesn't work. Then I remember a recent dream where I proved I was dreaming by looking at my hand, where my fingers were damaged, wrinkled, bent at weird angles, or even cut off, and I bring my hand up to my face and stare at it.

      It looks perfectly normal. I continue to stare, and as I do, it seems to wrinkle and whither slightly, but not enough to prove I am dreaming. Then suddenly, my fingers and thumbs start to stretch and morph, and I am suddenly turning into Edward Scissorhands, and am terrified, wondering what I am going to do ... then I start to laugh and it registers ... yup, I know I am dreaming now! Time to have some fun! And I immediately wake up.
    2. The Balloon Convention, Lucid Sex, and Trying to Ride the Corkscrew (Lucid)

      by , 11-13-2012 at 06:50 PM
      11-13-2012 -- More to this in the beginning that I can't remember, as usual. I'm pretty sure I am in the Hickory House, except it doesn't have the right layout, and areas are much bigger. As I am wandering the house, I am watching something on TV, and it seems to involve what seems to be a balloon sculpture, except I grab it and it seems to be something else made to look like a balloon sculpture, a sort of prop.

      It is three 260s braided together into a straight stick, but the braiding somehow makes it more aerodynamic, so it should be able to be tossed around a room and fly really well. [Though I haven't looked into it in real life for years, I think this is actually true.] The prop has some kind of balloon creature riding it, but I am more interested in the braided part. I can't try it out because it isn't really made of balloons, but I decide I want to make the same thing, and try it.

      Problem is, as I start looking for my balloons, my mom tells me to use hers, instead, and points me at a huge 'bag' of balloons on the couch. She explains that Pioneer Balloons gave it to her for a give-away at a lecture she is giving at the clown section of a convention. This thing is massive, probably about two feet by two feet, and contains probably 15 times the amount of balloons my apron carries (and my apron carries around 2,000 balloons), and I am amazed and jealous that they have given this to her to use, then give away.

      How can she have this and be giving a class at a balloon convention as a clown, when she has only been doing this for a couple of years, while I have been doing this much longer, and have never been asked to do so? But neither here nor there. I go to grab some blue balloons (a sort of royal blue color, a shade lighter than the basic dark blue) and they stretch more than they ought to. I decide not to try and mouth inflate, with my air and vocal chords as they are, and go looking for a pump, but the first one I find has a huge tip, and I know I could never stretch the balloon over it. The second one is a regular balloon pump, and works fine for me.

      Problem is, as I start to blow up the balloon, perhaps a 10" section of balloon fills up, then starts bulging horribly before it pops. I start to stretch the other balloons slightly, and they are like pulling warm taffy. I try to grab more from mom's balloon bag, but they are all in the same condition, either badly made, or very old, with no strength and stability left, so I don't get to blow any up and try the designs. I am explaining all this to mom, while asking where the balloon prop came from.

      She explains that some guy named 'Charlie' comes by every couple of days and drops off some balloons he has made for the local kids. I have no idea who Charlie is, but it is nobody I know. Suddenly we are at the convention (it is either an FCM convention or a balloon convention that has made a point to invite non-ballooning clowns to try and teach them) and I am wandering around, visiting with balloon artists I know, while having to admit I don't know where my balloons have vanished to.

      I visit with Don Caldwell for a few minutes, and he is working on some great new designs he plans to use in a combination lecture and show tomorrow, then I find myself visiting with Joe White. Meanwhile, it is just a day or two before Halloween, and mom is talking about how she isn't taking her gig at the weird mall-like fun center that I've dreamed about making balloons at several times before, because she doesn't expect many people there on Halloween. Several others are trying to explain that this is one of their busiest days of the year, but she just won't listen.

      It is quite late in the evening, and several of the balloon artists are talking about going out to a bar or nightclub for a little drinking and partying, and I'd really like to come along, but I start to realize that while I know these people, like them, and they sometimes teach me some designs, none of them are actually friends, and none want me along for the party. Bummer. I'm regretting Dale just went home from a Disney visit, because it means he's not going to have the time off to go to the convention, and I'm going to be all alone. Double bummer. [True ... my best friend Dale was just here in Florida for two weeks, and just went home ... part of why almost none of my dreams have been posted for the last couple of weeks.]

      As the balloon artists head off to the bar, I just wander the streets. I am singing some sort of old classic song (perhaps Putting on the Ritz, but really, I think the song changed several times even as I was singing it.) As I sing the first line, I find myself walking next to several punk-looking teens, and I am embarrassed, so I switch to whistling. When I am whistling the last line, one of the teens sings it out (though by this point the last line may have been 'So happy together') and when the other punks glare at him, he says something like "What? It was a great song, and he sang that first line of it very well!"

      One of the other punks pulls a small tray of Stouffer's mac and cheese out of the microwave, and spits on it to show what he thinks of this. I make some sort of smart-alec comment about how he has no musical taste, and I, for one, don't want any of the mac and cheese either, thank you very much! The others laugh and agree, and he gets mad and throws it at me, getting mac and cheese all over my shoes. I walk off down the street, trying to wipe the shoes clean.

      Spoiler for Becoming lucid and sex:


      I don't know exactly how the idea comes into my head, but I somehow decide it would be fun to ride the Corkscrew, a roller coaster that used to be at Knott's Berry Farm, but was removed something like 20 years ago. I just start staring down the road, and a little in the distance, a mountain starts to come into being, and slowly the Timber Mountain Log Ride begins to appear, logs plunging down the long drop and splashing into the water. I can just barely see hints of the highest part of the Corkscrew's lift hill behind it.

      I walk around the mountain and into the Roaring 20s section, but it takes some work. I have been kind of pulling this out of my mind and forcing it into the world, so things are sort of super-imposed on each other. As I try and walk into the Roaring 20s section of the park, I am walking under the freeway overpasses that were already here when I started to pull the rides into existence. Kind of neat, kind of weird, seeing freeway lanes filled with cars just disappearing into the sides of the log ride and the mine train areas.

      As I move further in, I can now see almost the entire ride in front of me. But it isn't quite right. The cars should be red white and blue, but they seem to be green and yellow, and instead of riding on top of the track, they are hanging underneath, a suspended coaster. But the track itself seems right, and I am more than willing to try the Corkscrew as a suspended coaster.

      A few problems, though. At first I can't find the entrance area, and when I finally do, the lines are very, very long. At one point, where the track dips to near the ground, after the lift hill and just before going into the corkscrews (the real layout of the ride), the ride almost seems to merge with the line, and people are just kind of being sucked into it. But when I get there, nothing is happening.

      I decide to just bypass the line, and half-jump, half-fly up to the loading station, but as I do, the ride seems to have just shut down for the day, and there are no more cars on the track, so no matter what I do, I just can't seem to get a ride. Very frustrating!

      [Oddly, while there was a lot of lucid stuff in the dream, a lot of cool dream powers and impossible things, still nothing actually worked out, and there was a lot of frustration throughout, as well. Doesn't change the fact that it was a very long, detailed, and interesting dream for me.]

      ---

      There was another very long and detailed dream earlier in the night, but unlike this one, I couldn't remember much of it. I know there were some Harry Potter bits, and lots of repetition and boring bits. I also eventually found myself in a sort of higher-class version of the Adventurers Club, sitting on a large, ornate staircase leading into the main salon wearing either a bathrobe or towel. Either way, I am probably going to be half-nude as I stand up. A couple of anonymous female performers here, and some annoying interactions with BC for some reason. Might be interesting if I could remember it in full, but as it is, not worth much.