I’m walking down a dirt road at night in some rural-looking, semi-wooded place. It’s very dark, maybe lit only by the moonlight. A car is coming down the road, from the direction I’m headed. It stops nearby, and a woman opens the driver’s side door slightly and asks me whether I need a ride. I tell her no, I’m just out for a walk. She drives off, and I keep going. I’m only going as far as the end of the fence before I turn back - a wooden one on my right - and I’m almost there now. Actually, I’m not surprised the woman stopped, since I’m carrying some pillows with me, and that probably made it seem like I wasn’t just out here because I want to be. Why am I carrying these things anyway? I’ve been doing it for a while this way, and it’s not like I’ve ever done anything with them. Maybe I should just leave them behind next time. Then it’s as if the scenario repeats itself, but with changes. This was a dream from early in the night: I went to bed a little after midnight, and woke up to record everything around 2. Perhaps because of this, even though the setting seems fully realized, the dream is unusually full of sudden shifts - or else I’m unusually aware of them - and I’m also aware at times of other less imagistic mental content taking place simultaneously, influencing the dream from without. This time, there’s a restaurant by the side of the road that I walk past - one that’s clearly still open, as I can see and hear people out on the terraces. As I turn around, I see a man a little ways behind me. He explains that he just happened to be walking the same way, as if he’s reassuring me that he’s not actually some kind of creeper. The scene shifts. I’m in a hallway full of closed doorways where moving shadows pass by me on their way from one end to the other. A sense of unease. Major liminal space vibes here. After what feels like a short time, though, the setting changes again. I’m once again outside on a moonlit night, but this place has a different feel to it. Also, I’m now aware that I’m dreaming, although it isn’t clear what led to this realization. There’s still a sense at times of parallel mental content happening, including awareness of a dream plot being imposed, but there are also some short segments where I seem to be imagining how things play out before they actually do. I walk. It feels somehow more like reality than like a lucid dream - that's how it strikes me at the time, anyway - and I’m fascinated by how detailed the mist looks - little swirls of it are constantly catching the moonlight, especially over a stream I pass by, where it’s thickest. After what feels like a few minutes, I reach a house - my destination. I knock loudly on the garage door, and there’s another sudden change of scene, to where I’m now inside the garage. Until now, I’ve been following the “plot”. It just feels as if I should somehow. But the setting here has felt so unaccountably somber. There’s a heaviness to the atmosphere that’s getting to be a little oppressive, and by now it’s starting to bug me a little, so I yell out: “It’s-a me, Mario!” As loud as I can. “Don’t say that,” a voice says from right next to me. “It makes me heartbroken.” I turn to my left and see a man standing beside me. “Why?” I ask. His answer didn’t quite make sense to me. “Is your name Mario?” But he doesn’t answer me. He is completely absorbed in pouring himself a glass of amber-colored liquid from a bottle into a glass and then drinking it. I take a closer look at him. He’s a fairly young man, white with short, dark-colored hair and wearing a black leather jacket. I briefly wonder whether I modeled him after a character in a gangster movie or something. The man is on his second glass when the door leading into the house opens. A woman is there, having heard me. She’s been expecting me and beckons for me to come in. I go, inviting the man to follow along as well. Another sudden shift of scene. We’re sitting in a room, at a square table. Across from me is the woman: we’re talking about something, although I can’t remember any of the details now. Meanwhile the man, seated on the side to my left, seems oblivious to our conversation. His attention is focused on what looks like a primitive electronic toy of a sort that was around in the ‘90s, and maybe later too, but I really have no idea. It’s pastel blue, and it emits all kinds of little bleeps and blips as he presses buttons. He’s apparently trying to type something out but finding it rather hard going. I hear an awful lot of the two-quick-blips sound (I recognize the interval they make as a descending tritone) that indicates he’s using the backspace key. And then I wake up. 19.12.24
Morning of October 7, 2008. Tuesday. I am standing near a river in late morning. A mist begins to grow and rise from the river. Later, it seems more like early evening. Eventually, the mist is elsewhere with an undetermined orange light within it, implied to be like a miniature sun. Zsuzsanna is present at one point and some of the light within the mist shines through and augments her beauty. (I am unsure if the setting is implied to be indoors or outdoors, a common ambiguous factor of the dream state.) My dream begins with the common water induction (water being autosymbolism for entering the dream state, occurring as such at least once in every normal sleeping period for over fifty years). The mist symbolizes the essence of the dream state itself, which obscures the orb of light (conscious self identity). This is very similar to many previous dreams of which utilize the same autosymbolism, typical RAS mediation of which is similar to many dreams I have had about something being wrong with the sun, which is biological autosymbolism for my conscious self identity being incomplete while in the dream state. (The first two episodes of the fourth season of “Supernatural” aired the night before, included here for personal date-tracking purposes only.)
It was a slightly grim afternoon. I was outside my house, just in front of my exit gate. It was raining a bit. I turned back, facing entrance to my house. Suddenly a huge knight in black armor appeared and challenged me for a duel. We started fighting. Just like the knight, I was able to block or parry each of incoming attacks. I was fighting bare handed while the black knight used a battle axe. When I finally managed to land a hit, the knight escaped and came back with someone helping him. It was a human in rags, he blown a dust off his hand and made a purple mist form almost everywhere. I escaped from it as I knew that it was poisonous. After a few more blocks the mist dispersed and I was able to counter one of his attacks. I made a surprise upper cut punch that sent him flying back and fall, bouncing on the ground twice.
Thunderstorm I left my house and stopped at the entrance stairs, staring at the grim and heavy clouded sky. The wind was blowing wildly, clouds were moving really quickly. I saw my sister walking around the backyard. I moved to the backyard, it was getting darker and darker. Then a powerful thunderstorm started! Lightnings shot all across the sky and hit buildings at my backyard several times. The lightnings were red and everything they stroke went instantly ablaze with strong and bright fires. I saw other sisters walking around a hill behind our barn, I tried to warn them. I ran back to entrance. My sister I saw earlier ran to a shed and sounded a siren to warn us, I called her to get back home. She ran to me and entered the house after warning everyone. Sky observations, swimming pool A green mist spread around some park in a city and disappeared. It teleported me and some other people to that city. It was a sunny day, the sky was clear. There were coconut palms in that park. I called for some horse and it appeared, then other people did the same and we drove on, watching as the sky changed from day to night, looking at the stars. We drove through desert, to some meadows which were disconnected with a cliff. Some rocks floating in the air were forming a path to the other side, but we had a better idea - fall down the cliff. Doing that teleported us to an aquapark. I entered it and changed my clothes, then jumped to swimming pools and just swam. I kinda learned swimming, but also enjoyed it. Starting with a safe pool with lesser depth and then going to a deeper one. I swam with some heavilly scarred and burnt man. He told about demon summoning and how resist demons saved his life. I lied on my back in the water, slowly submerging. I closed my eyes and submerged further.
Morning of December 25, 2016. Sunday. I seem to be in a very large unfamiliar room with a high ceiling that seems to be in a large commercial building. However, it is meant to be the inside of a helicopter (though the fact it looks nothing like the inside of a helicopter in any way does not trigger any level of doubt or any type of realization). I am apparently flying in this “helicopter” as a passenger. There are two unfamiliar male pilots (in black pants and white shirts) who mostly remain seated on the opposite side of the room from me. They face toward a wall looking at a number of monitors. At times, they seem to be typing flight instructions on keyboards as they look at the monitors. There is also some communication now and then with air traffic controllers or at least some people on the ground. The “helicopter” is supposed to be landing somewhere soon, but it is not safe to land anywhere in the area due to a mist that remains at least six feet above the ground and is covering unseen large rocks everywhere in the landscape. Some parts of some rocks protrude upward from the mist. It seems to be part of a canyon or possibly a series of canyons, all with mist and rocks. This puzzles me somewhat but nothing about the situation seems wrong or threatening to me. One of the pilots, while standing near the desk-like extension from the wall, seems to relate to the other that he could land without hitting a rock though no attempts at landing occur, at least any of which I become directly aware. There is a sense of movement at one point where the room seems to slowly turn in a circle but there is no disorientation or perceived danger on my part. I seem to be lying on my left side at one point though not directly aware of being on a bed. I start to think about the “helicopter” landing on the flat ground between large jagged rocks. I do not feel concerned about anything. The pilots do not address me at any point. This dream’s autosymbolic meaning is based on the biological nature of the dream state itself and obviously has nothing to do with waking life, especially as the autosymbolism’s phrasing in hypnopompic disclosure is known. A helicopter (which has been a recurring emergent consciousness factor in my dreams since early childhood), as with vehicles in general, is an autosymbolic extension of my physical body in REM sleep, though with a more defined subliminal discernment of the vestibular system ambiguity that occurs naturally in unconsciousness, than with similar autosymbolic extensions such as a motorcycle. This dream’s autosymbolism was based on a typical unconscious phrasing, “Although I am now sleeping, I am becoming more aware of my real environment and of my physical body, which is operating smoothly”. The jagged rocks are autosymbolic of a vague anticipation of a waking start (hypnopompic kick or other involuntary muscle event), though of which does not occur, and the mist of course is autosymbolism for the dream state itself. This dream has a curious ambiguity of taking the subliminal awareness of being in our bedroom and sustaining it with the typical return flight waking symbolism, a type of RAS mediation which has occurred in at least one dream per regular sleeping period for over fifty years. As I am already in the more defined liminal space of conscious self recognition in passive waking transition, there is no dominant RAS modulation and the pilots of course are RAS personification and the emergence of thinking skills, which typically do not exist in the dream state.
I recall something about being controlled by a disembodied voice that tells me what to do. I discover the source of the voice to be a radio on a table in the middle of a desert. Then my dream transitioned to me being in a... bathroom? with people from my elementary school, except we're all our current age now. We talk about sex and fellatio and he talked about attractive people and I was mad that I wasn't mentioned. There were stickers on the floor, with a name and serial number. One of them had "Femboy" written on it as the name. They thought I was underage but I told them I'm over 18. My dream transitioned to me controlling a space ship with my keyboard, with the SHIFT key moving the ship up and the CLTR key lowering the ship. The sky was dusty, the pale yellow-brown color of a misty sunrise. There was a sea of fog, and we landed on a crumbly, black patch of land that was the mouth of an active volcano. A family lived on it and they approached us.
Morning of October 16, 2015. Friday. In my dream, my wife Zsuzsanna and I are living back on Stadcor Street in Brisbane. Our family is mostly as it is now. For some reason, my wife’s younger brother George stops by and hangs around for a long time, becoming more and more annoying. Sonny is with him, but not as annoying. Zsuzsanna is also annoyed, mostly by George as well. (In real life, we have rarely seen him). There reaches a point where I seem to have had enough of his loud imposing nature and patronization and cause the blade of a steak knife (not the handle, just the blade) to fly through the air and lodge in his left shoulder (I am not lucid). Sonny, I do not mind at all. However, they soon leave together. From here, I go outside and have the familiar sense of being in control and making my dream at one level, though still not lucid in any way. As I watch the truck, I am also aware of a nearby cliff (although there are certainly no cliffs near the area in reality). I get the sense that he is going to turn and drive straight off the cliff and I feel a sense of pleasant expectation. My dream is very vivid at this point with realistic imagery, sound, and distance perception. Indeed, he turns, going faster, and drives straight off the cliff on purpose, and as he does, I sense a gasping from numerous people as the truck falls to the ground below. Somehow, I am then seeing a view from ground level near the foot of the cliff, where there is a river (as if I am standing on the water’s surface). The truck is supposedly now underwater. My wife’s younger sister Judy and numerous other people immediately rush into the knee-deep water (though unrealistically, the truck cannot be seen) from being on the sidewalks above just seconds previously (typical illogical dream shift). Judy is the closest to where the truck apparently hit and sank and it looks like she may try to find them or try to rescue them, but my dream starts to fade from here. Looking at this dream closely, it appears to be another variation of the waking process metaphor. Oddly, one of my last waking-metaphor dreams also involved George driving around mountains near cliffs, except that we were actual passengers in that case - though we went back to find our real sleeping selves; that is, our real physical bodies before any potential of him driving off a cliff. The river is the dreaming process (and there is also a light mist above it in this case, although misty rivers sometimes appear at the beginning of apex-lucidity dreams in addition to the pop culture association “Tomorrow Never Knows” by The Beatles) and although the water was getting lower (a sign of waking), an aspect of the dreamer (driver) could no longer be seen. The scene with the knife blade was already “cutting off” the connection of dreaming or dream communication (as I did not “have a handle” on my “imposing” unconscious state or potential lucidity - an oh-so-obvious dream play). I am not sure why George is sometimes seemingly a facet of my non-lucid dream-self lately (not that often, just every now and then - and assuming it is not a subtle telepathic link as with my wife). One of the only other consistent “drivers” as such has been my brother-in-law Bob. This is curious in that both people have very low intelligence in real life and in the case of Bob, he cannot read (though the ability to read certainly does not denote intelligence or intellect). This may be some sort of play on the non-lucid dream-self lacking critical thinking skills or clearer awareness, perhaps even relating to failed borderline lucidity or even “hidden” lucidity. Since childhood, I have found it curious how I have often been aware of a part of me making my dream as it unfolds, and yet not being lucid in any way. This is especially curious as I have not read about other people with such experiences or particular recall and is one of many reasons why I no longer believe that the so-called subconscious exists; only various levels of mind; within and external (and beyond) - as well as Universal Mind (or non-local mind). The final scene loosely relates to having just seen “The Red House” (from 1947) with regard to the last scene where Edward G. Robinson as Pete Morgan deliberately crashes and drives into the river under the ice house. Note also the play on “knife blade” and “shoulder blade”.
A man flies into a church in a hurry, and runs across an old friend he hasn't seen for a long time. He's excited to see his friend's still alive, but concerned to see he's not wearing his armor - he's in jeans and a t-shirt, and there's a sense that this means he's rejected a role, walked away from something. And there's a small scar by the corner of his mouth, that's new. Unfortunately, there's no time to talk, he's running from something - he asks his friend for help, and his friend agrees, opening a portal for him. As he's about to pass through it, however, a group of people fly into the room, wearing armor like the kind his old friend used to have, shouting for him to stop - they're acting like both the portal and his old friend are a threat. From my 3rd person perspective's location, I can't see where that portal would lead. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) I'm fighting someone, but I've stolen his weapons and made them my own - his cloud of mist, his glowing light. I feel a snap. I'm surprised to find he dies as easily as anyone else without his toys. Three of us who'd been fighting him together drive off, leaving someone behind to clean up. I apologize to the man driving the car, someone I've been with for years now. That whole situation had been my fault - I'm saying I couldn't just follow instructions when I should have, and "Let it get too loud." He says, "And then it didn't anymore."
Yesterday's dreams included using abandoned tunnels running beneath a lake as a hiding place to sleep in during the day. There's one place that leads to a glass dome where you can look up and see the lake above you. Today's: I'm trying to prevent some disaster, and I'm running out of time. At the moment I'm standing on a rooftop, watching several people in a field far below us. Along with me there's two people, a woman who I think of as my partner - she's on the other side of the roof at the moment, busy with her own efforts - and then this man. He has the power to make anything he says come true, but for his own safety and everyone else's, I made him forget about this power. This is an emergency. I force him to remember, and then I have him use that power to say that there's an earthquake. We all hold onto the roof and watch a crack open up in the field where those people are. The ground's still shaking, the people are scattering, but I don't think this will be enough. We should just bury this place beneath the sea, that ought to do it. The place is covered in white mist now, blocking out everything below the roof we're standing on, and it's quiet, no more sounds of people below us. I'm walking back toward my partner on the other side of the roof, and I believe submerging this place and all the people in it has managed to avert the disaster. But then this dark spire rises up out of the fog directly in front of me, and keeps rising up into the sky. It's this huge, gothic tower, a single immense spire composed of smaller ones, spire upon spire upon spire, all jagged edges. I think of a cathedral, but there's no religious imagery, just a sense of awe and horror; I think of a clock tower, but there's no face. It keeps rising higher and higher, I can no longer see the top of it. Flooding this place was a wasted effort. And as I hang onto the edge of the roof and watch the spire rise, I hear an old man's voice in my head. "Here to keep your ledge, little boy, who once rared-"
Updated 12-27-2014 at 02:51 AM by 64691
A dream ends with my mother's death by self-inflicted head wound, in a scene comparing her to a woman who'd shot others in order to protect the family; this is followed by several false awakenings in which my IRL sisters and I realize we've all had that same dream and argue over whether to go check on her - S. was against waking her. (There was also a room behind S. that I recognized as out of place, though I rationalized it away.) In the last false awakening we finally do check on her, and the head wound turns out to have been a metaphor for a stroke she experienced in the night; I go to call 911, only to have her stop me and explain that the stroke is also a metaphor - she removed something from her mouth which had been distorting her speech and features. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) I'm in a field looking at scarecrows tied in place with gold that shines in the sunlight. I've just been hearing a story about how they got here - they were people once. Dead now. There's a mist starting to come down from between the mountains at the far end of the field, as it always does at this time of day though I've never been here to see it before, and I'm watching it make spiraling patterns in the sky. It's very beautiful. As Spike, I'm sitting in a classroom that Buffy's gang is using to talk about an apocalyptic threat - something involving a demon from another dimension - I'm annoyed at how blasé they are about it. I'm aware this is normal for them, but it's something that shouldn't be normal for anyone. It's as if they're not taking a warning seriously.
Morning of May 28, 2014. Wednesday. There is a long first section to my dream where my wife Zsuzsanna and I are living in my older sister Marilyn’s house on Loomis Street. (She died this year in February.) It seems unusual that we now apparently own her house, especially as this was a rented house in real life and my sister had lived in a different house for some time after I came to Australia (though this erroneous factor occurs continuously in my dreams, as I never saw the house she had moved to after my move to Australia). I am aware of Marilyn at one point but when I look up she moves swiftly “in reverse” back to the kitchen (as if I were rewinding and resetting my dream). I notice a pile of clothes in one bedroom that belong to my brother-in-law (still alive) and my sister. Later, I am at the front of the house. I have an old bicycle that I will be riding east down Gillette Street. At this point, I feel very good, though I am somewhat concerned about the traffic. However, there are not many cars after a time. I am able to ride the bicycle without incident. After going east down Gillette Street about two blocks, there is a (fictional) bicycle shop to my right. I still feel very good, but I think the bicycle needs to be fixed up a bit. I go into the store and have the bicycle set up near the center of the main large room so that I can work on it. The owner is behind the counter and does not even seem to notice me (until later). I have a special bottle that resembles a small cylindrical spray-cologne bottle with a light blue tint. The liquid inside it that sprays out as a mist is virtually infinite. This has something to do with “the practice effect” in that the more I use, the more will be available and the more effective. In this case, it is a mist filled with nanobots that automatically clean, repair, and build even as they continue to improve themselves with a more and more efficient design. I spray the mist on rusty spots on the bicycle and over time, more and more of the rust is gone to be replaced by the original chrome surfaces. I spray it on the seat and the black seat takes on a copper sheen and transforms into a different shape. The bicycle shop owner comes over with an unknown male customer and I say how the seat will now be more comfortable when riding. At this point, a bicycle seat falls onto the floor from a high shelf behind me. I point at it and say, “What a coincidence. I had just mentioned ‘bicycle seat’ and one fell from the shelf”. The other two males appear to be perplexed. I continue to spray the mist over the bicycle and it becomes more and more newer-looking. I decide to add a headlight. I spray over the front of the bicycle and the invisible nanobots build a very nice-looking chrome headlight. There is a larger rectangular area on the bottom for a brighter light and two small eye-like squares near the top for signal lights. I also create better brakes and go back over the surface. Eventually, the bicycle, though with chrome aspects, also has copper and gold sections. I study the difference between the copper and gold nuances and I am satisfied. I notice several other features of the shop turning copper and gold over time, including parts of the shelves, checkout counter, and so on. Eventually, the owner seems puzzled by a section of his bicycle shop, which seems to have partially expanded into a clothing store with craft store aspects more to the east. A few sections of elongated clover-shaped copper and gold felt pieces have ended up on the floor. A few other customers are walking around. It is not quite clear what he is looking at. At one point, it looks like two pieces of golden-colored felt sewn partly together with a bit of stuffing coming out. It seems like a propeller for a large stuffed toy airplane. This dream borrows from the science-fiction novel “The Practice Effect” by David Brin and additionally uses the typical dream ability of cleaning and improving dream features. For new readers or inexperienced dreamers: Something falling off a shelf is precursory symbolism representing getting out of bed, especially as it is a pillow with composite autosymbolism relating to flight. A shelf is autosymbolism that signifies being unconscious, analogous to being in bed. This dream is autosymbolic of the natural vestibular system ambiguity of REM sleep, biologically resulting in associations with falling, flight, or both. Therefore, it has no relationship with waking life or interpretable factors. An airplane is often only an autosymbolic extension of the physical body during the vestibular system ambiguity of REM sleep. Therefore, it is usually unrelated to waking life. In this case, only the propeller as a pillow is present. A pillow is a dream state indicator that represents increased awareness of one’s real environment while still in the dream state and is sometimes precursory of “The Periphery of Lucidity” as in many childhood dreams, and although my dream becomes more and more vivid, apex lucidity does not initiate. Preconscious RAS mediation remains passive here, as a checkout character being autosymbolism for exiting the dream state, likely due to my (subliminal) willingness to wake and harmonious attitude about RAS factors. In my childhood, I typified this common type of dream event as “failed flight waking symbolism”. Use of the word “failed” does not imply a negative connotation as it is a biological dynamic of waking from REM sleep. Therefore, attributing conscious self meaning or waking life meaning is unintelligent. A bicycle is also relevant to vestibular system dynamics, not as dominant as a fully featured airplane. Gold symbolizes a more viable closeness to the conscious self identity while sleeping.
Updated 02-27-2018 at 06:59 PM by 1390
The dream begins inside my house, by the front door. I am scared to go outside, slightly apprehensive, but i long to feel the fresh cool air on my skin. My blonde hair frames the scene, and i notice my sleeves and arms more than any other part of me, i appear to be wearing my turquoise H&M top. Eventually i slowly open the door and take a step outside into the cool early morning air. The door opens up to a sideroad very close by*, and i slowly begin to walk out into the twilight morning, slightly covered in mist, with a pale blue hue everywhere. I move away from the house, never looking back, but i can feel water in my eyes welling up for some reason, so i search myself for some tissue, noticing that now i am wearing a completely different top but thinking to myself It's warmer than my other top. I am now wearing a black pvc blouse which i bought a while back for a photoshoot. I forget the tissue and my eyes seem normal now, and i continue walking down that side road, looking to my right all the time, and noticing a nearby compost heap, which for some reason has smoke billowing from it, but the smoke never reaching very far up in the sky, it appears to fade mere feet above the compost heap, which now has flames and a few bits of wood as expected. Suddenly i am behind some garages nearby, and i head to my garage where i keep my car and I find several garage doors open, as well as my own, but my car is in there, my old Nova**. Its doors are open and my clothing has been ransacked***! I then notice a door which i had never seen before, at the back of the garage, through it i can see the inside of someones house. Suddenly i am inside this house, looking out of the window at a scene unfamiliar to me, and it is night time, and there is someone standing under a street lamp with a bag in their hand. My perspective shifts and i am now viewing this from the other direction, and outside, and the house i was once in now appears to be a hospital, with a multi story carpark next to it. I know this place, it was the hospital i spent much time in as a child. Now i am that person standing outside, and with me is a small tan coloured dog, not the dog from my childhood, but one very familiar, and sympathetic, as the dog looks up at me and wags his tail as his face forms that of a smile, reassuring and honest. Nothing much after this aside from hazy memories of shopping, seeing my friend Stephen briefly, and being back home. * In the dream the front of my house seemingly flipped 45 degrees facing west, and 100 feet down the road. ** The Nova was my first car and i locked it in these secure garages at night time, never once got broken into. *** Before i came out, i kept female clothing in my car to change into and i was eternally worried that someone might break in and find them. This dream occured about two weeks ago, worth mentioning if only for the personal insight it offers me of myself. Everything ties up here, though the compost heap thing is weird, its my second dream in as many weeks to feature a compost heap. I thought i would create an image of the dream, crafted in photoshop of 3 seperate images, one i borrowed from the internets, and 2 of my own, the scene itself and me. I cannot possibly say if i wore high heels when outside, or inside, but i usually do in reality so i assume i do in dreamland.
I've just arrived on the edge of a cliff, out of sight, and now I'm following a path through the trees into town. I'm shocked by the state of the place. Although visually, I-the-dreamer didn't actually see anything that looked unusual - it was night, the streets were empty, there wasn't much to see but it seemed like an ordinary small town - I had the impression that I-the-character was looking at foulness or decay, something along those lines. I hear a conversation like a voiceover, it's not part of this scene - I have the impression it's something said later, as if what I'm seeing is a flashback related to that conversation. In the conversation, I'm saying, "I saw-" and someone else cuts me off, saying "No. You didn't 'see.' You corrupted." They sound angry. That is to say, whatever's wrong with this town is due to my presence, or at least the person speaking believed so. Visually, I'm still walking through that town, and a woman appears in the street, shining or glowing, wearing white robes, and after a moment I recognize Erana. I'm very relieved and run to her; she's not looking at me, she's looking around at the town, looking like she's mourning. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) That same town, relatively early in the evening, when there are still people in the streets. I'm walking together with a married couple. I'm looking at two shops next to each other, and I'm remembering when the man I'm walking with praised this town to me, telling me I should come and visit him and his wife here, talking about the brightly colored buildings and the many-colored tiles on the roofs. I'm looking at the faded paint on these buildings and trying to convince myself that maybe it looks better in sunlight, but I don't think so. I mention this to him, and he brushes it off, vaguely implying that I'm misremembering what he'd said, or that he'd exaggerated, and that it's not important. I start to press the subject, asking his wife about the state of the town. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) I'm walking on a dirt road just before dawn, sky's bright. The ground to my right drops off sharply into a valley which at the moment is filled with rising mist, and I'm stopping to enjoy the sight. It's very beautiful. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) A mother and daughter in their library, the mother is standing over a book lying open on a stand, and the daughter is behind the stand, trying to get a look at the book. She holds up a candle to try to read, but her mother tells her you can't read it like this. The mother puts out her candle, and all the other lights, and when it's pitch black the book starts glowing. As a 3rd person observer, I'm thinking something about how this makes perfect sense for a book about darkness. The mother is focusing on the book and saying "I shan't flee from you around here, mortal." The light from the book flares up so brightly I can't see anything else.
My life has been quite hectic recently and I've been under a lot of stress, so last night I incubated the idea that I wanted to have a peaceful dream where I can just enjoy the scenery and relax. As I was approaching lucidity yesterday (by focusing on flickering hypnagogic imagery) I experienced the famous 'light at the end of the tunnel' effect. I told my unconscious to direct me anywhere I would find peace and quiet. At that moment I felt a tremendous feeling of transcendence as my dream body flew across the world (more like astral projection than actual flight though). I 'flew' past sunsets and sunrises, oceans and savannas and ended up in a Zen garden high up in a mountain range somewhere. It was so high up that in the garden itself, there was a thin stream of mist which swirled around along with the wind, giving the whole place a new touch of elegance. The layout of the garden was very simple. At the center there is a rectangle patch of gravel and sand. On this patch lay two rocks, a large one placed on one end and a small one on the other end. There was a crystal clear pool of blue water in the middle of the patch. All of this was surrounded by a wall. Outside the wall was the actual 'garden' feature of the Zen garden. There were flowers, pruned bushes and trees planted throughout, with a walkway that led all the way to the entrance of the whole place. It was a miniature landscape designed to imitate the virtues of nature - peace, tranquility, beauty and harmony. A true place to relax the mind.
Updated 08-07-2017 at 10:57 AM by 45106
It was halloween time and everyone I seen had costumes on, but I didn't. So I started to imagine I had some goulish one on and started walking around in this slow methodical walk. The way I was walking seemed like an art form in itself, and I can only do it in my dream. Anyway, as I started to do this, the sky turned exceedingly gray and cloudy. Very uniform, with just enough light percolating through to let you know it was day. Also mist began to appear sporadically on the ground to magnify the haunting effect. It was truely cool and very gloomy in a good way.
Recent Comments
