I had another dream last night where me and my sister were trapped in granddads old reliant during a rainstorm. When this dream started, I was at the church my family went to when I was growing-up with my mom and sister. We were at the coffee hour they used to always have after the Sunday Chruch Service and it was summertime and really hot outside and I was burning-up in my church clothes and ready to go back home. When people started to leave the Coffee Hour and walk back to their cars in the parking lot, mom told me and my sister that we were going to take all of the flowers from the service to the nursing home that granddad had spent his final month living at on our way home and that she needed our help getting all of them to the car. She then grabbed a big rolling cart that I remember our church used to have and then led me and my sister into the sanctuary where all of the flowers were. When I we started walking down the aisle towards the front of the church, I noticed there were vases and pots of flowers everywhere. Many more than were normally up front for a church service. When we got up to the front, mom told me and my sister to grab the vases and pots and bring them to her. Me and my sister spent a while grabbing them and bringing them back to mom who then placed them all on the cart. We kept doing this for a while until eventually we had grabbed all of the flowers and mom somehow figured out how to get everything onto the cart. Mom asked me to push the cart and then I followed her out of the sanctuary and into the parking lot where I saw granddads old tan reliant was one of the only cars left in the parking lot. When we got to the reliant, mom opened the trunk and told me and my sister to hand her all of the potted flowers first. We kept handing them to her, and somehow she was able to figure out how to get all of the flower pots to fit in the trunk with no room to spare. Once mom had the trunk loaded, she unlocked and opened the front passenger side door and told me and my sister to go ahead and get in the front seat. As I stood by the door waiting for my sister to get in, she reminded me it was her day to choose where to sit and for me to scoot over to the middle seat. I then sat down on the tan vinyl bench seat and moved over to the middle and fastened the tan lap belt around my waist. My sister than plopped down in the passenger seat to my right and fastened her tan shoulder belt as mom closed the passenger side door and then started loading the vases into the back seat. It was hot in the car, so I rolled down the driver side window and my sister rolled down the passenger side window to cool things off. While me and my sister waited, mom spent a while trying to get all of the vases to fit in the back set and back floorboard. She could not get everything to fit and kept taking them out and putting then back in trying to find a different way to put them all in. Eventually she got all but 3 vases to fit and opened the front passenger side door and gave me and my sister each a small vase to hold in our lap and then put a big vase on the passenger side floorboard and told me sister to hold it between her feet. She reminded us we would only have to hold them for a little while since it would talk less than 15 minutes to drive to the nursing home. She then told us she was taking the cart back to the church and would be right back. I watched through the windshield as mom rolled the cart back to the church building and then held the ladies doing coffee hour load all of their stuff into the car and then disappear into the church building rolling it. As soon as she walked into the church building, we heard several loud claps of thunder and then the bottom fell out and it started pouring down rain. I had to struggle to roll up the driver side window while holding the vase upright in my lap with my other hand while my sister had to do the same while rolling the driver side window up. It kept pouring down rain for probably 15-20 minutes and me and my sister had to sit and wait in the reliant while mom waited it out inside the church. As me and my sister kept waiting for mom, we both noticed something in the car smelled bad and I was sure it was one of the vases or flowers. Eventually, the rain started to let up some and one of the ladies who mom had helped with cleaning up from coffee hour walked her out to the reliant with a big umbrella and held it over her while she unlocked the driver side door and then sat down int the driver seat on my left. Mom thanked her and then closed the driver side door and then the lady walked to her car. Mom then put the key in the ignition and tuned it but the car didn't start right up. For a few cranks, it sounded like it was going to start-up but each crank ended with the buzzing sound and a dash full of red lights. After a few more cranks, mom noticed the car stunk and asked me and my sister if one of us might have stepped in poo because something really stunk in the car. We both denied it and I told mom it was one of the vases. Mom then turned her attention back to getting the car started and after a few more cranks the battery started to sound weak and then nothing happend when mom turned the key. As we were getting out of the reliant, mom noticed there was something on my shoe and I woke up from the dream trying to clean it off in one of the big puddles in the parking lot.
I was having a dream where I led some kids into class but I went wrong way through a staff room and then wrong way up some windy stairs (highly plausible). Then I realised all was a bit weird so I shoved my hand against a wall, fingers out straight to see if I was dreaming and sure enough my fingers went into the wall. I went down the corridor. I was in a room, might have been my grandma's, old fashioned white table cloth, big bay windows with light shining in. I was lucid so I decided to make some flowers for the table. A great big bunch of random, colourful flowers. However after a second or so they faded to brown/dead. So I made some more, each time same thing happened. Then had some nice cuddle time with some people who came in.
Updated 10-30-2018 at 02:38 PM by 89275
Who's the father? I tried to collect as many different flowers as possible. It was some sort of a competition and many people were there to brag about how big and beautiful their bouquets were. I did have the biggest tho even if I held a baby in my arms I could still be the very best. It was just… I couldn’t figure out who was the father of my child. I was supposed to get a flower from the guy and I had two options. Darren Criss or Byun Baekhyun. I went home to Darren’s place and entered the building. But he wasn’t there and it was really dark since the lights were not on. I couldn’t find any flower in there either which kind of made me disappointed. Before walking to Baekhyun’s home I was passing by a bar. I went in there and had a look. Darren was sitting at a table drinking beer. A few tables away I saw a vase with a beautiful white flower with a note saying: “For my one true love.” I took it with me, smiled at Darren that hadn’t noticed me and walked home. The other girls that were competing were really jealous of my lovely flower that I had received. Later Darren came by and was really surprised by the flower. He didn’t know anything about it. He said that he wanted to bring a flower but he seemed to forgot about it. I glanced down on my baby and realized it looked like a watch. Like the time was running out. There was another dream but I only remember taking the flight home from Italy to get my creditcard and then fly back again. Just so I could return to Sweden the day after with my luggage. The trip was really stressful and very unnecessary.
In the earliest part of the dream I can remember, I'm reading a news article online. It’s about an odd discovery that was recently made—what seemed to be a fossilized person on a bicycle. I pull up a map website so that I can have a better idea of where the places I’m reading about are. It starts off as a map of Europe—more or less. The only major difference I can remember was seeing a series of small countries along the (more or less) Baltic Coast. The place I’m interested in is further west of that, around Luxembourg, I'd say. I zoom in until it’s more like looking at a satellite map, and I can see the spot the story is talking about: a place in the woods where the grass gives way to gray rock, and in the rock, the figure of the cyclist can be clearly seen in profile, looking rather cartoonish. I look up and find I’m not looking at a screen on a computer anymore: I’m actually there in the forest. And there’s only one way that’s possible: I’m dreaming. The gray rock isn’t there anymore. There’s just forest in every direction—deciduous forest, with foliage that isn’t so thick it blocks out the sunlight. I pick a direction and start walking, not having any particular goal in mind. The forest is quiet and still: there don’t seem to be any animals around. The only notable feature of this place is the mushrooms I see growing in small groups among the undergrowth every few meters. They’re red with white spots—obviously fly-agaric. I recall a recent discussion on DreamViews about hallucinogens in lucid dreams: what would happen if I ate one? I’ve never been curious enough to try it before—I wasn’t even curious enough to read the thread, for that matter—but here they are, and here I am. Guess I’m going to find out. I get down close to a group of them, pull a piece off a small one and put it in my mouth. But then I see that the mushrooms aren’t mushrooms anymore: they’re red flowers now, poppies by the looks of it. Still in an experimental frame of mind, I pull off some petals and chew on them. They’re completely flavorless and slightly cool. It is an extraordinarily realistic experience of eating flower petals. Shortly afterwards, I wake up. (7.8.18)
Morning of October 17, 2017. Tuesday. My wife Zsuzsanna and our family as we appear now are living in the Cubitis house. There is a gentle rain. I am aware that our oldest son will be returning from his job (same job as in real life despite the erroneous 1978 setting of Florida rather than here in Australia). I contemplate if one of us should go and get him so that he will not get wet walking back in the rain. Zsuzsanna says that she will when the time comes. I am in the living room with Zsuzsanna. I look out the windows into the Cubitis backyard (it seems to be late morning but still raining) and notice a row of tall purple larkspurs that are close to the windows, under the awnings, and parallel to the entire east side of the house. They are not yet in full bloom. I think about asking Zsuzsanna when she planted them (perhaps very early on the previous morning), as I do not recall when she could have done this, which puzzles me slightly as I consider how wonderfully industrious and sedulous she is. In an area near the center of the large backyard are a few weeds where there is otherwise mostly short grass, but I also see about three or four potato plants in a couple random spots. It is raining, so I will pull out the weeds later. There is a vivid sense of love and peace. Zsuzsanna tells me that our oldest son will probably be off work about an hour early, as people do not usually shop there when it is raining. (This turned out to be prescient curiously enough, and it has not happened in this way before. I fail to see why people would stay home from shopping just because it is raining, but I guess I forgot that some people are “depressed” by rainy weather, whereas I am not.) I have been a devoted dream journalist all my life (and I even married my literal dream girl) and yet have never held any interest or belief in “interpretation”, mainly because my dreams, other than literally prescient threads, naturally decode themselves prior to fully waking, revealing their origins and manner of synthesis, but also because my dreams have held the same basic components and patterns, especially variations of waking symbolism and the same RAS triggers (such as emergent alertness to real environmental noise) since early childhood. Look closely at the threads that are accurate and those that have no basis for accuracy. My personified subconscious (dream self) is aware that I am happily married to Zsuzsanna, yet we are living in a house in America (Florida), where Zsuzsanna (and our children) have never been and I have not been since 1978 when I was only seventeen. (Zsuzsanna and our children have always lived in Australia.) This is not even the house in Wisconsin I was living in years before Zsuzsanna and I first began writing to each other. My dream self is aware that it is raining in real life at our present location (and in fact, this dream began within seconds of falling asleep again) and (again, as in the above paragraph) I am in a different house in my dream, also aware that it is raining, yet without the awareness of where I am in time and space (and how interesting is that?). I am aware that our oldest son has a job and even the exact location of where he works, and yet again, there is no conflict between the impossible contrast of living in Cubitis (an isolated rural area through which only a small highway intersected) and in an urban area in a different country. (My dream self usually does not find the implication of either bilocation or mixed-up composites, which are very common in my dreams, as unusual in any way.) I am aware that there are weeds in our backyard in real life (it has been raining continuously for a few days), yet (again) this is rendered into the backyard of an incorrect setting. Despite the otherwise fictional nature of this scenario, there are a few real-life factors, and even a typical thread of prescience (which I have always experienced on a day-to-day basis, yet do not always go into detail about as my entries are often already very long).
Morning of May 18, 2017. Thursday. In the backyard of our present address, a garden is present in an area near the southeast corner, closest to the fence on the east side. There is an area of ground that is about half an oval (the flat half to the fence). In this garden, which is about three feet long, are a number of moonflowers (tropical white morning-glories). I view them at night and there is an unusual spotlight effect on them (though this does not seem wrong or unlikely to me). I look out during the next morning (with no real sense of much time passing relative to dream time) and there is no garden, not even the oval-shaped area of ground. I “realize” that they are only visible at night under certain conditions (even though they are technically called morning-glories).
Morning of August 18, 2016. Thursday. In the first part of one scene, I am at our present home and near our front door. It seems we have at least one (unknown) female visitor but she is talking with my wife Zsuzsanna in the dining room (which we use as the main bedroom). For some reason, our front door is open and I am looking outside while standing in the doorway. It seems to be early afternoon. I am eating some delicious snacks of a strong bittersweet flavor, eating at least a dozen of them without paying much attention to their appearance. They go down my throat, each being swallowed whole. Finally, upon looking at them, I notice that they are like miniature shish kebabs, though the implied stick is also edible and sweet. On the end of each is a large and shiny red carpenter ant head with black mandibles. This gives me pause even though I had been enjoying these snacks (and I briefly vaguely wonder if eating their heads as such could be dangerous). I realize that the ant head goes down first, and I had been properly consuming them as such, but now, as I think about it more clearly, I am not so sure I will continue to eat them, at least for now. In another sequence, I am looking over at (old neighbor in Cubitis) Harold’s orange grove area (even though the house I am observing this from seems to be a minor variation of our present home). It seems to be late morning. The weeds are very high, nearly at chest level. I feel slightly guilty for not having mowed the area (which has no orange trees in this scene) yet do not even consider that his area is not my responsibility anyway. Soon however, two of his workers come over and start cleaning the area. They are dressed like sheiks (even though I sense one is East Indian and had worked as a cab driver recently). I still feel slightly guilty at their difficulty in trimming the plants. However, it soon is seen that what I first thought were weeds are two beautiful trapezoidal sections of tall flowering plants, forming two somewhat large hedge-like features. It now seems to be an amazing regrowth of what was intended years ago to be as beautiful as it is now. Still, the unknown male continues to work at it, cutting small sections at the bottom. He brings his gardening shears near the top but the areas near the blossoms are impossible to cut for whatever reason - in fact, it almost breaks his shears. He stops and studies the tops of the plants. He then informs Harold’s wife (who instead appears as Diane K for an unknown reason) and tells her that the plants are producing fruit, which seem very valuable. This does not seem to matter as Diane tells him that everything must be cut down as that is what Harold had said, though she seems upset about it and refers to him as a “posturing curmudgeon”. I feel very annoyed that the fruit will be wasted as well as soon missing out on the beauty of the red and white prolific flowers. Eventually, the setting changes very illogically. I am still seemingly at our present address, but the roof seems to be missing and the orientation still partly reflects Cubitis. Looking to the north, I see what resembles the Rose Street building. It seems to be nighttime though still somehow light enough to see at a distance. On the roof is “Diane” (still apparently playing the role of Harold’s wife) though she now seems to be Karen’s mother instead. I wonder if she sees me and recognizes me. She does not wave or make any indication as such. My two youngest sons are in the house, more to the north. The house seems to be open to outside on that end. I am still aware of her annoyance at Harold having the plants cut down, but when I look out, I notice two smaller beautiful hedge-like areas and it now seems daytime again. Turning about, the setting shifts yet again and it is now late at night again. I now “understand” even after having gazed at the shorter hedge-like flower sections in his yard, there are now only two mats in that spot (which somehow now is a much smaller area) with shorter grass growing in parts in a somewhat random pattern. I also see light-colored sand in random patches, mostly on the mats, which is also somehow the remains of flowers. This is in the area of the kitchen on his side as apparently we share the residence. I view the scene from our (my family’s) side of the kitchen. I do not question the plants having been growing out of the wooden floor and also growing from the mats. The kitchen is fully enclosed and no part of the house is fully open to outside as it was minutes ago. Soon, I need to use the bathroom and it is late afternoon again. I go into a (fictional) room (which would be implied to be between our two son’s rooms in layout) where it looks as if the toilet had somehow been slid across the floor and turned perpendicularly to where it had been. There is a decorated Christmas tree to its left and the room looks more like a lounge room overall. Looking down, I see there is hardly any water in the bowl and there is also a transparent plastic wrapper in it. I decide to use the “other” toilet. The other toilet is in our actual lounge room and faces east though is in a corner (northwest) that is implied to be our bathroom. At first, it seems fine (and it also is now a few hours earlier than it was moments ago), though I eventually realize the curtains are open on two sides and I hear the rest of my family returning home from their outing. I am annoyed (in realizing how open the “bathroom” is) but get up to close the two curtain sections. Still, I then see there is nothing there at all, the area being completely open on two sides with no curtains after all (implied entry point and the right side) and the time shifts to where it is even earlier (close to morning), so I decide to wake up and use our real bathroom (though it is not that common for a dream to be based on needing to get up and use the bathroom), which I immediately recall is not problematic as the ones in my dream had been. It is curious how many bizarre scene shifts and impossible time shifts there were and I did not question any of them, especially the house not having a roof and being completely open on one side or time jumping backwards a couple times, though both aspects are quite common in dreams.
I was on a dark street with my dog (I seriously must have nothing else going on in my life) and she suddenly ran off toward the river. I was shocked because she has never done this, and she was ignoring my calls. I finally caught up with her but I didn’t have a leash. I thought it would be a good idea to put her in my car (I can’t remember what I was doing at the time, but I was going somewhere that wasn’t home.) I held onto my dog’s collar as we walked back and I encountered a drunk man that I apparently knew as a regular in a restaurant I worked at. He made some random comments that I don’t remember and I felt slightly uncomfortable. I went into a theater/pub where two of my friends were. One of them had my car keys. The first one I encountered, Amy, was announcing someone to the crowd. I tried to get her attention but couldn’t. I saw my other friend, Angi, and she gave me my keys. My dog morphed between my current dog and my last dog, who passed away almost a decade ago. This is not uncommon. I also remember driving by an outdoor laundromat during the day, and thinking that I could work there, that it didn’t seem so bad. The place was basically a parking lot with one or two washing machines/dryers and a stand with a bunch of hot pink and bright blue flowers for sale. I had dreams of trying to solve graphic design problems too, in fact I thin this is what the bilk of my night was spent doing. I'm currently taking some courses, and I guess my brain is working overtime. Thoughts: I took Valerian Root before bed last night, probably falling asleep around 12:15am, which is late for me. I read some design books in bed before sleeping. My thoughts seemed to be racing again—not very stressful thoughts, but my brain struggled to relax. Again, visualization practices seemed difficult and uninteresting. Woke up at 3am and read for an hour or two, fell back asleep around 5ish. I'm taking my dog to the vet today for vaccines. Looking for part time work.
I traveled to a run-down, abandoned carnival/amusement park type of place with my mom. We sat at a table and talked. Two stray shih tzus, one male and one female came out of the ruins where they lived. There were some flowers growing nearby. Then a fragment of seeing an opened half package of antacid tablets laying on the floor that I thought I needed to pick up so Kitty couldn't eat them.
#1. I was driving a black convertible down the road and playing loud music. I saw some cops and thought they were going to pull me over, but they didn't. Later I got my car stuck and the police came to help. I thought they were going to be mad and give me a ticket, but they didn't. They were really cool about it. I promised myself I would abide by the law closer and always be nice to police. I then remember finding this house by the beach. (I was in an unusual location. While not very interesting, it wasn't the usual my-neighborhood-overlayed-with-some-cheap-props.) So credit for that. The woman who lived at it, a 50-something single woman who looked pretty good for her age. She was supposedly the worlds best angry birds player and something of a celebrity for it. I don't remember why or even think there was a reason for it to begin with, but I was forced into interaction with her. I felt like this whole thing was a scam. Nobody should be a celebrity just for being good at a mobile game. But then again, she wasn't THAT famous. Her house was small, she lived alone and there was no paparazzi around. She probably just made enough money to live here comfortably for the rest of her life. ... I remember leaving. She was following me and I was going back to my place, a condo a little closer to the ocean. To get there, we had to ride our bikes down a sand trail at night through this huge field. She stopped saying she was out of breath and we stopped for a minute. I RC'd and became lucid. I think I said something about being lucid to the woman. WBABP: "In order to proceed, you must meditate on the meaning of Vishnu." Me: "But I'm not hindu." WBABP: "Be nike and just do it, like I did when I shot that bird at the last glass block ass. My ass." (Slaps her butt.) "And maybe you'll end up as well-off as me." (Smiles) I don't know what came over me next. But for some reason I thought I wanted to change the look of the moon. I remember I could focus on making it lighter or darker and do so. I then discovered that I could turn the moon into molten magma and solid at will. It was pretty cool because I turned all of earth's moon into magma, then reformed it, and when I did, I cleared away all of the craters, and earth had a smooth moon now. I then drew a pair of magic runes on the moon out of magma channels on the top and bottom. Then another pair on the sides. Then four more at a 45 degree angle. Then connected them to make an 8-pointed star. Some internal logic told me that when people draw a pentagram, it is a five dimensional shape, so they summon demons from the fifth dimension. But if you draw an 8 sided star (Octogram?) you summon very powerful beings from the 8th dimension. Just because I was lucid didn't mean I had any idea what I was doing. I remember an egg shape formed out of the moon magma, solidified into a smooth white egg and floated down. It hatched. It was some horrifying alien lizard creature. Something like a velociraptor but with a wider face, and it walked on all fours with really large, muscular front legs and small, thin back legs, and a tail with a spiked weapon on it. It wasn't that big, maybe the size of a horse. The thing that made it even more off-putting was that the creature didn't seem to have any skin. It looked like an anatomy diagram with just muscles and bones. (Huh maybe it really was a demon.) But because I was lucid, I wasn't at all bothered by its appearance. It didn't act like a demon though. I for some reason snapped back into more proper lucidity, but falsely remembered that I had a dream goal of creating a gas giant that earth would now orbit. I remembered that this creature would become the core of the gas planet. It asked me to select some flowers from around the area to help provide it information about what the planet should look like. I picked some random flowers. The field that the bike trail went through had seemingly endless variety and color of flowers. The dream seemed to skip that part, though, because the next thing I remember was handing the being (I think the monstrous looking planet maker had moose antlers now). "Are you sure these are the colors you want?" (The creature had a gruff, gurgle voice like you might expect from a monster, but at the same time, I could tell it was nice.) "Yeah" The creature jumped off into the sky and exploded. It created an absolutely beautiful gas planet with sky-blue bands rotating one way and brownish orange bands rotating the other. I remember it had a huge blue storm like Jupiter's great red spot that I could see rotating. -+- I was working with Spellbee2 on the next Lego video game. We went into the bathroom together to wash up since both of us lived at work because we had such long hours. I remember he was perplexed by how to get these lego parts to connect when they had 3 connector studs on bottom and four on top. I remember I asked him to show me the parts and the moment he put the legos in my hands I became lucid, since I keep on dreaming about legos. I remember I used lucid magic to add a fourth connector stud on top and make it work. Spellbee was blown away by this.
Updated 05-03-2016 at 03:06 PM by 53527
Ritual: Went to bed around 2am. Woke at 5:45 and fed the cat. Returned to bed and set vibrating alarm, attached to wrist. Interval was 30 minutes, set at 5:55am. Last time I used this device I completely slept through several vibration cycles (it was at the lowest setting), so I turned the intensity up slightly. The first time it went off I remembered to lay still, but could feel that I had already lost dreamstate. The second time it went off, my mind felt fully awake but I felt like I might still be integrated with my dream body. I tested movement cautiously and sure enough, I could swing my arms freely, unconstrained by the covers that I knew lay over them in WL. There were still a few moments when I couldn't quite be sure if I was engaging dream muscles or real ones, so in order to avoid sending the wrong signals, I started spinning and sliding my whole body until I felt like I was lying the wrong way in the bed. I didn't feel like I could safely engage my legs yet, so remaining on my back (though in WL I was sleeping on my left side), I slid across the bed and off the other side until I dropped gently to the floor. The cat was lying on me in WL (confirmed when I woke up afterward) and the sensation of warmth and weight bled through into the dreamstate, so it felt very odd and amusing to have this remain constant even while my self-perception of where I was in relation to the room and the bed was changing. I took care to note this WL sensation cautiously and with a certain mental distance, lest it startle me awake. The sensation faded naturally as I now "stood up" and walked through the house. EILD: I walk straight into the living room, which was dark, and stop to figure out what I should do. Although I have been trying to remember a few personal tasks, somehow it is easier to recall the TOTYs, so I figure I'll attempt another of those to start with. Most of them seem better suited to the outdoors, so I exit the kitchen patio door. My initial thought is to look for a circle of fairy mushrooms. My cement back patio is unusually life-like this time, so I cross it until I reach the fence that borders the property. In WL this is a low wall of beige-painted cinderblocks; in the dream it is a chain-link fence several feet taller than I am. With the lightness and agility of my dream body, I easily climb over it and drop down. In WL the ground slopes steeply downward here; for some reason in dreams, it is typically a steep hill going up. I start looking for fairy mushrooms among the trees, but notice a large area where the soil looks loose and disturbed, as if recently planted with the flowers that cover the expanse at regular intervals. The blossoms are very simple in structure, a small disk encircled by six delicate purple petals. I realize that I am unlikely to find a fairy circle in ground so recently landscaped, so I decide to pursue the gnome task instead. There are trees all around, but most look young, their trunks only a few inches in diameter. I look around for the biggest tree I can find, and approach one that is over two feet in diameter, conjoined with two similarly-sized trunks to make a row of three. I can't tell if they are three trunks from the same tree, or multiple trees that grew up in close proximity. The earth is still bare and loose here, recently tilled, so it is easy to dig my arms in and start casting it aside. I alternately cast the soil I'm displacing to the left and right and back between my legs. It is much easier to dig than it would be in WL, but it is still too slow and tedious to form a hole of the depth and dimensions I need, so I decide that I need a new strategy. If there are tunnels down there, there shouldn't be any need to displace the soil outside the hole—I should be able to drill straight through. I leave my hands in the earth and focus on pushing the soil inward. As a hole begins to form, I step in and will it to widen, so that I won't feel claustrophobic. When it is a few inches wider than my shoulders on either side, I take the plunge, willing the earth beneath my feet to drop into the tunnels and carry me along with it. I find myself in a network of spacious square hallways, about seven feet tall and wide. They are dimly lit by what seems to be electric light, though I don't investigate the source. There is nothing natural or even rustic about these tunnels—they might easily be the basement corridors of some ordinary building. I look around for evidence that they are the gnome tunnels that I am seeking, and find that the most distinctive thing about the space is the graffiti scrawled here and there on the walls. It is not high-end arty spray-painted graffiti, just ordinary lettering written in what looks like thick black marker. I step closer to one example and find it at once legible and unexpectedly funny: "Hobbits are HUGE!" It does sound like the sort of thing a gnome might write, so it gives me confidence that I've landed in the right place after all. I continue down the corridor, looking for more memorable examples of graffiti. The next piece that catches my attention says "SpiritLA." Something about the way it is written makes me think that this is a Los Angeles-based sports team that the gnomes apparently favor. A few steps further on, and I finally encounter the gnomes themselves, about six of them congregating in a junction where several corridors meet. There is also a sort of wire gate that appears to lead into a larger open space, though it is too dark to discern any details. Despite what the graffiti said about hobbits, these figures are pretty huge themselves, coming up almost to my shoulder, so I peer closely at their faces for evidence that they are in fact the gnomes that I seek. I am reassured by their features, which have distinctively rounded, gnomish features. "Hello," I say, curious how they will respond to my intrusion. "Hello!" they reply cheerfully, completely at ease. I have been voicing my observations (like the examples of graffiti) aloud in order to assist my recall later, so as I take note of the appearance of the gnomes nearest me, I make a vocal shorthand description of their characteristics. "Blonde, bangs, white dojo," I comment about the first gnome to approach me. She is a female wearing a gi (the garment used in karate practice), and though I know perfectly well what a gi is called in waking life, dream logic substitutes "dojo" instead. Her hair is long and straight, of a golden blonde color. Her gi is bound with a plain white belt. She smiles amiably. Another female gnome is standing to my right, so I note her appearance in turn, remembering that the task specifies interacting with two of them. "Pink padded blouse and white skirt, knee-length" I say, but even at the time I realize "padded" might not be the right word. "Quilted" would probably be more accurate, since it looks like there is only a very thin layer of batting under the decorative overstitching, done with curving and intersecting lines spaced about half an inch apart. I note that the skirt has the same kind of decorative stitching over thicker cloth, with no apparent batting inside, as the stitches lay flat. "Light hair, long—no, shoulder-length," I continue, noting that her hair is exceptionally pale, almost white, and delicately textured. The way it falls reminds me of how hair was "feathered" in late '70s/early '80s hairstyles. The faces of both females look ageless, neither young nor old. Neither seems disconcerted by my weird mutterings, they both just look at me with calm curiosity. Although I was able to make very detailed observations on the appearance of both, at this point I felt myself begin waking up and could not reverse the process. The EILD allowed me to time the dream precisely: it went off at 6:55 and I awoke at 7:04, so it only lasted nine minutes in all. Subjectively, it also felt very brief.
Updated 02-26-2016 at 07:25 AM by 34973
Technically it's not the first one but others were just too short or limited to count them (and I don't even wrote down every). So I think that this is the first one which is worth anything. Also I need numbers so here we go: Non-lucid parts Lucid parts #1 LD I was on the meadow close to my house. There were some animals: bisons (?) and black fox. As usually in my dreams I didn't have my camera so I went back for it to my house. I was there very quickly, like with teleport. Then I started to realise that something's odd. I was on the ground floor and again - teleport to my room (maybe with a very little lucidity). I was still going through the dream way. I get my camera. Again - feeling that this can be a dream. So I did RCs. My camera was working fine (vivid, display was on, I took a photo of the church with flash - it was night outside, I checked it on gallery). I switched on and off the light - it worked. I went to the kitchen where my mom was watching TV. I looked on my hands. I had brown gloves and my two fingers was close to each other but it wasn't that odd for me then. I asked my mom if this is a dream and she told me that I'm talking rubbish and I should eat a cucumber. Well, that's my mom. Nothing odd. I was looking so badly for the sign because I wanted to jump through the window and if it wouldn't be a dream - well, not so good RC then. So finally I tried to levitate and it worked! I was flapping my hands for it. It was hard to control the flight. I flight/went to my room, jump through the window and crashed. Fortunately that didn't wake me up, also I didn't feel any discomfort. I flied a little to a different part of the yard. It was day, grass was green, there were many flowers (i.a. red poppies). Everything was beautiful. If I was focusing on some detail then it was more sharp and vivid but also a little 'shaking'. I didn't have many ideas what to do because of excitement. I tried to summon my boyfriend then. I imagined that he comes from behind the tree. It was easy. But he did strange faces, didn't talk anything. Anyway I started to lose control, emotions and stuff. I hugged him. I saw in my mind (still in dream) his dog. Then I woke up. It was maybe 5 minutes between alarms on the morning. So it was short and I didn't do anything special but I liked it. Also I think it was a sign to start putting more interest in dreams, maybe to help myself with some things. I wasn't thinking then about LD or anything, I didn't even wrote down my dreams (last ones are from October).
Woke up at night, wrote down some dreams, decided to try to WILD, laid on my back and relaxed my body. after some time noticed i am to awake for a dive so i switched to do some SSILD cycles. changed my position to the side and imagined to climb up some stairs up and down and up and so on. Dream started: still in my bed and try to fall asleep. its 10:40 am and i feel awake and should start my day. have a little bad mood because i wanted to LD this night and it didnt work... someone enters the room and i talk to him about it. a lot of vivid NLD scenes... then i enter a room. a lot of people are around. i throw something behind my back over my shoulder into my other hand. [i practiced this some month ago in waking, then did it shortly in one lucid and dreamed about in maybe two other NLD´s] i notice "hey you did this in your dreams.... wait this is a dream" Nosepinch to confirm it. i instantly remember all my tasks for this lucid. i want to do basic II advanced I and bonus. how convenient that i am in a room with some people. i turn to the next guy and start pointing with my finger on him and laugh like crazy. while i do this i look at him and get a short doubt if i should have picked someone else because he looks like someone who dont like to be laughed at and punch you in the face for that. i ignore this thought and laugh even harder. he gets a little angry and tries to slap away my hand but i react too fast and pull it back before he hits me. he seems offended and goes away. i am in really good mood so i pick a chair and say "people hey some attention please" step on the chair and do a frontflip down on the ground. i (too) strongly feel the rotation and think that i had luck it didnt destabilized my dream or did it stabilize it...? some people are laughing some start to talk again. "Hey psht PSHT do you hear this? i think my phone is ringing" i dont feel or hear anything but i look around and suddenly see atleast 3 phones that lie around or are held by people whose display turn on like they where ringing. i just expect that my phone in my pocket will ring to. i put my hand in my pocket, search a little and get it out. its not ringing or vibrating but i see the display is on and in a mix of English and German there is written incoming call. my display looks strange so i have some trouble to take the call. the symbol disappears. [i remember Sensei´s thread which says: dont focus to much on hitting some buttons when you want to write a text but concentrate on the text and let your "fingers" do it on their own.] with this in mind i just put the damn phone to my ear and expect that i picked the call and talk to someone. at the beginning its an automatic machine-voice but after some seconds i hear a guy talking. i seem to talk to "Stratos" a troubleshoot hotline for phone and internet? (maybe because i had some trouble with the phone some seconds earlier?^^) He asks me to start to tell him who i really am. I tell him "Your mama can tell you some authentic data" and i hang up . i go out on the terrace and look around. my vision blurs a little and i dont remember why. maybe i put of my glasses or something? i dont care and continue i try to move a flowerpot with TK and it wont work. i get a little confused if i might not be dream? i do another nosepinch and breath long and deeply in and out. my awareness raises again and i see through the window the guys. i see some flowers and approach them. they are not that big but have really really bright colors. i smell them and some are smelling and some are not. when i look from up close they look exotic. i i really enjoy to take my time to look at them in detail. it feels good. i remember that i want to blow up the earth. i didnt decided yet if i want to fly into the outer space or try to teleport there. i think about lying down and "fall asleep" for teleportation. i look for the right place (damnit that i always need to find "the perfect spot" for everything...) i go down some stairs and see a couple entangled in eachother. i move my hands in a gesture to split them apart. they hold on to each other but one can see that a force is pulling on them. i think about to pick the guy up and throw him out of the picture but i decide i dont want to be mean and let them be together so i stop. i look down the path i am going and see that it is a long winding path. i ask them if its crowded there at the end and she tells me it depends... i start flying and fly with high speed down the winded path. i am so fast i miss the mark. i stop and paddle back a little. the path changed into some red and blue waterslide. i find it cool and fly with high speed back to the middle of it and sit inside. i start slideing but for some reason i start thinking about my waking body and have a FA where i write down my dream. i see on the paper that i already wrote down that i woke up at 10:40. i look at the watch and change the time to something around 7/8 and start writing. i rip out some paper to write on and notice that i rip out more then i wanted to. i wake up for good and see that i didnt write anything down, neither any time or the dream. so i remembered my FA in my FA xD
Updated 12-02-2015 at 01:38 PM by 87116
Morning of September 11, 2015. Friday. In my dream, I had been making love to Zsuzsanna in a semi-lucid state and suddenly feel a bit more perceptive than usual in such a situation. She looks beautiful and goddess-like. I tell her that I “brought her here” as an experiment and for her to look around the setting (even though she has already been present in many dreams about Cubitis as well as La Crosse). Outside, I see a beautiful garden and layout. There are unrealistically large coleus blumei everywhere (instead of all the huge prickly pears and ugly caterpillar-infested red canna lilies that were eventually practically everywhere in reality prior to my family’s move back to Wisconsin), some in large plant pots placed in perfect lines along the shed and parts of the backyard. The beauty of the imagery is astounding. There is a strange “division” of time. Even though I am my present self on one level, “my” house is otherwise empty (other than my own manipulation of the setting and “preserving” of how it was before) and supposedly in the distant past. Lisa’s old house immediately to the south, however, is still technically “cursed” and empty, and the outside covered with several layers of mold and old vines, parts of the front porch blocked up with concrete blocks (and mostly as it presently looks now in real life). I want to look in the house, but my wife does not like the idea. However, my motive is pure and to confirm that the house is in complete ruin and unfit for a human being to even be within several feet of. I do not even care that people apparently cannot enter and leave with their sanity intact. I feel good about the idea of an empty ruined house covered with mold and vines next to “my” in-dream home. It makes me feel alive and happy and with an enhanced sense of privacy. Somehow though, we end up in town. I seem to be on my own for a time. I do not recognize anyone (even though they are around my age or older). I am in what seems to be a small store. An older male is seated on a chair near the entrance. Even though I do not know anyone in the immediate setting, I ask him if he remembers me. He has no idea who I am. I tell him that I will travel back into the past, meet him and be his friend for a few months, and then come back to the present and ask him if he remembers me then. He seems to agree to this odd concept and arrangement, but it still does not work. He then does not even remember what I had asked him the first time around (before I went to the past). I become annoyed and leave. I eventually find myself in a tavern. There are quite a few people sitting on bar stools. One of them looks like a very old version of Lisa, perhaps about seventy (which makes no sense as she is younger than me). Her parents look like young teenage versions of themselves even though they are still her “real” parents. Her “mother” says that she has to come home and her “father” does not even want to look at her, though just tells her to come back home while even blocking his face with his right arm for a short time. Not many want to look, apparently, because her face is extraordinarily distorted. I notice that her mouth looks quite bizarre, her teeth two times longer than they should be and metallic as well as being at various random angles. I do not question either the “impossible mouth” or the teenage parents of a very old lady (even though I had been semi-lucid at the beginning of my dream). Eventually, I am distracted by the behavior of the “parents”, and decide to heal a few people in the area. I go outside and see the same male I had talked with earlier. From here, miniature clouds of soft blue fire float and waver upward into the air from my hands and this is supposed to be “restoring” elements of the town and people somehow. The male seems to become a bit younger (or at least healthier in overall appearance) and more cheerful.
Updated 06-18-2018 at 05:33 PM by 1390
Morning of August 25, 2015. Tuesday. Notes: It always gives me an extraordinary sense of fulfillment when I get a continuous flow of insight and am able to more fully decode certain patterns in dreams over a lifetime since earliest memory. I am very grateful for the technology that has allowed me to do this; that is, type faster and with continuous editing potential (rather than writing and correcting and rewriting and correcting when I was little), put documents all together in one place, and have a listing and potential day to day timeline of my lifetime from around age four (with sparse family references and records since my birth date in 1960) as well as having access to resources that are able to validate and enhance so many of my earlier records. Not only will I be able to, in about ten years (only an optimistic estimate of course), bring all of my dream records and notes together as I want them, I will also have the ability to do extensive searches with a fair amount of precision. This dream, as odd and unlikely as it seems (even to me at first - I did not expect the flashes of realization when working with it), gave me the required focus somehow to unravel a small and isolated set of dream metaphors and associations going back to 1968 as well as relating to the path to my beautiful soulmate. There are too many layers to get into in this entry (and one would have to understand hundreds of summarized pages of my personal back story to “get” any of it anyway). I can only loosely touch upon some of it. Obviously, there are still limitations to my personal symbols and metaphors being fully decoded. This is mainly because some symbolic associations are rather sparse and fairly rare even at my present age. Still, I feel very happy today with another new breakthrough. Sewing Machine Bulldozer: I am mournfully back as I was when I was in my twenties and working for the Onalaska Street Department (not that I was sad at that time - it is just that something seems to be “missing” somehow in-dream). My job at this time was picking up large pieces of eroded embankment (on a fairly difficult inclination) and placing them on the roadside - placing them directly in front of the bulldozer. This was very difficult work and not many could do it for very long. Over time, I begin to be annoyed and tired over why I am even doing this. (It does not dawn on me that I am no longer this age, and do not even live in America anymore.) I am concerned about the speed of the other workers. The bulldozer even bumps me a few times, though not in any harmful way. I grow impatient and realize that I may have missed pieces a far distance back and think that the stretch will have to be worked over again. I do some of the work incorrectly, that is, I bend over to pick up a heavy piece instead of squatting and flinging back. Any sense of weariness of course, is an illusion in-dream. I start to ask myself what I am doing here. Is this where I am supposed to be? I absentmindedly turn about and put my foot against the blade of the bulldozer. This results in a very strange event. The blade and push frame begin to wobble and very small “plates” fall off the front (reminding me vaguely of “Bathtub with Grill” from June 26, 2015). The exhaust pipe stack begins to move up and down like a “giant” sewing machine needle. It is almost like the tension building up in a cartoon (but not cartoon-like in any way). When I look down, I see that the bulldozer’s blade has actually transformed into an oversized antique sewing machine’s treadle (with floral scroll design), though at an angle and somewhat elevated. My leg is automatically working it to create (and actually sew together, apparently) some sort of clothing within the bulldozer’s cab. It is some sort of gossamer white lacy material flowing out from the side. Around this time there is a very strange mechanical sound behind me and when I dare look, it is a downward rolling “wave” suggesting a ghostly staircase. Soon, it is a luminescent staircase (recurring feature mostly from early 1991 to early 1994). My wife (as she was when we first made contact) in a glowing wedding dress and some sort of oversized tiara (somewhat like a crown) is standing there with a bouquet of flowers. I can see a blue layer of light just under her skin. “I’m not going to be late, am I?” I ask. “I never intended to be la…” (My dream is swept away.) Connections: Bulldozer history: I have found some links I did not really fully put together before. “The Dead One” dream (February 13, 1971, age ten - that is, first version of it) had a bulldozer run over Brenda W when I was taking flowers to her late at night on the eve of Valentine’s Day (so that only her hand is seen emerged from the soil and I feel a terrible sense of loss), yet she was resurrected (not in a zombie sense) near the end of my dream, yet “I could not yet have her”. (There were several dreams where she was resurrected, none of them relevant to any zombie lore - more in a divine “ascension” sense.) Brenda was the fully confirmed “stand-in” for my wife-to-be and also appeared in composite forms (such as “The Bad Witch” from March 18, 1978, which had a recurrence on March 23rd - the same date I got my first letter from my wife-to-be in 1991). Other layers - my sister died on February 13th (though the 14th from my perspective at one point in Australia as we are about a day ahead) and my father also died on the 14th of February. I have often associated the bulldozer with mortality and loss as such. Thus, there is very odd synchronicity with only a 1 in 365 chance it would be relevant as such - though it is - and all through my life extremely unlikely synchronicity continued with almost every event and association. The origins of this (that is, the very seed) may or may not be related to the tree I used to spend time near at primary school. One of my friends used to take palmetto sticks and push sand off the concrete bench, chanting “bulldozer bulldozer”. This was the “same” bench that Brenda was seated in most versions of “Bridge Over a Prehistoric World” (though she also appeared in distorted composites associated with the “dream girl” or “mystery girl” as I preferred). At any rate, from here, I made somewhat of a breakthrough in one very early version of the “divine staircase”. However, the features are quite different. It turns out to be my “Rocket Science” dream from July 2, 1976. This is not the first version of the implied “soulmate staircase” by any stretch. One of the oldest appears in “The Ghost Marriage” dream from October 16, 1971. I am linking only to the “Rocket Science” dream because of a few odd parallels. Firstly, the white sheet of paper that makes the “staircase” is like a miniature implication of the one in this latest dream (which I never even began to note before for whatever absentminded reason) as well as the commonly recurring ones as already mentioned above. It moved exactly the same way; that is, like a diagonal wave that suggested a complete “pure” or “divine” staircase (phantom or not). Aside from that, there is also the shared “whirligig” element and the strange “impossible” technology, the “whirligig” obviously being a Merkaba form, but I am not sure what the sewing machine needle and fictional helicopter rotary design “pumping” relates to (well, on a spiritual level that is - some sort of spiritual “motor” or cosmic mechanism perhaps). As most of this had already come about in 1994, it is more like a decoding breakthrough than anything relevant to what may come.
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