• Lucid Dreaming - Dream Views




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    1. Talking with my Father (and Grandfather) at a Public Venue

      by , 10-23-2018 at 10:28 AM
      Morning of October 23, 2018. Tuesday.

      Dream #: 18,936-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. Readability score: 69.



      I am at the Concordia Ballroom in La Crosse. (My father often performed publicly here when I was very young.) There is a service counter at the east end of the hall (a fictitious orientation, as it was on the north end). My father is sitting behind it. (I do not recall that he had died in 1979). His father is standing to his right but appears as being much younger than my father. (I do not focus on the absurdity of the scenario.)

      My grandfather is talking about the history of our family. During this time, I am trying to connect wires so that both speakers will play music. The one on the far left is working, but the far right one is not. I hear sound only in my left ear. I wrap the clusters of wire around each other. There are many that stick out from different areas of the plastic coating. My father looks on as I do this. I am wary of touching certain ones together, but in reality, it would not matter, as there is no electrical current. I spend several minutes doing this, starting over a few times.

      I sincerely tell my father how much I enjoyed singing with him when I was a boy.

      My grandfather speaks of a fictitious family history meant to be the truth. I remain puzzled about the details, but I do not say anything. Supposedly, my father’s mother’s name was Boyat (unfamiliar to me). She was famous and had an artificial knee. (In reality, the name was Ruland and appears in a book about Tecumseh.)

      Eventually, the right speaker starts working. When this happens, I absentmindedly but dramatically run off to the far end of the hall. I enter a bedroom where Zsuzsanna is sleeping. I leap into the air and fly a short distance. I try to wake her, as it is supposedly late in the afternoon. (In reality, she is awake, and I am asleep in my dream.)



      There have been numerous dreams of connecting wires. It seems to indicate a subliminal attempt to become lucid or connect with my current conscious self identity. I hear the sound in my left ear, which is dream state orientation, as I sleep on my left side with my right exposed to the real environment, so having the full connection would initiate conscious awareness within my dream.

      In this dream, I become more subliminally aware of being in the dream state, but I do not achieve a viable liminal or lucid understanding that I am dreaming. Still, I automatically enter the usual vestibular system correlation stage by leaping and flying in dream state indicator space; the bedroom where Zsuzsanna is sleeping. Up until then, I had no recall of my current conscious self identity. I wake shortly after this. Before I am awake, I see patterns of an offset dream forming to my left, which mostly shows laundry, and I consider it is “correct” in being down to the left.


    2. Unison

      by , 10-04-2018 at 04:07 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      The dream starts out with a scenario very much like the waking one I must have just left: having trouble getting to sleep. I’m initially on a thin mat on the floor of a room in a house, in a sleeping bag, but I give up and move the sleeping bag to the couch, where I do finally manage to fall asleep.

      The dream I subsequently find myself in is a lucid one. It went on for long enough to where entire segments of it have faded from memory, and I’m no longer entirely sure whether I have the order of the things right. But here goes.

      The earliest parts, probably, were of flying over a city at night. I’m just looking around, observing my surroundings. I spot a brightly lit area—tennis courts—and fly down. But as I’m getting close, the lights suddenly turn off, leaving me in the dark. I imagine my wings—which I’ve been doing without until now—and use them to propel myself up from just above the ground. But not long after that, I figure that it might be better to walk—there are people I’m looking for here, and it might be easier to find them down there. So I land and continue going that way.

      This city seems to be a modern one, and the area I'm in is well lit. To my right, I spot a large building that looks like a hotel, and further on is another one. No people around, though. I pause to examine some graffiti carved into the gray paint of a metal pillar, possibly supporting an overpass. Most of it is illegible scribbles, but I distinctly read the name “Joseph”.

      Nobody else seems to be walking around. I do eventually spot some people (specifically, four guys and a ferret) through the glass-walled corner of a building and have a brief conversation with them, but it seems to cut off partway through, and I find myself as a disembodied point of view, looking at a bunch of grapes. They’re hanging on a vine that’s grown around a tree in a forest. I remember reading something on Dreamviews about being able to play with the perspective of visual imagery—and there’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to visualize that well while awake, so I figure I’ll try it now. I find I can change the angle just by intending to, can zoom in and have a closer look. Even close, it looks incredibly realistic.

      But before I can get even closer, there’s another transition, and I find myself in a house. I’m near a large window—I can’t see anything outside since it’s light inside and dark outside, and it just looks black, but I figure I’ll jump through it and see what happens.

      I jump straight through the glass as if it wasn’t there and find that what I saw before was actually accurate—there really is nothing here but featureless darkness. I don’t even seem to have a body anymore. I consider the situation. I’m not worried about waking up: I recall that I spent quite a while lying awake before this—having correctly remembered my waking life circumstances rather than mistaking the dream I fell asleep in for real, which isn't always what happens in these situations—and so I’ll still be catching up on sleep.

      The idea occurs to me to sing a song, one I remember singing in choir when I was a kid. I then think that it’s kind of a silly song—why would I want to do that? But no, it’s better to go with my first thought. It’s probably the right one—it’s better not to second-guess this kind of thing. And so I sing it there.

      Long ago, in a far off land,
      Lived a child who loved to sing.
      She opens up her fragile heart,
      And the song, it takes wing…


      Although it’s not exactly like I’m singing it, since I still seem to be somewhat disembodied. I’m surprised by how good my voice sounds here, though. It resonates in a way I wasn’t expecting in a space that appears to be a complete void.

      At some point after that, after some unknown transition, I seem to be in the same house as before, just looking around. It has multiple floors, and above one staircase, I find what appears to be a clock playing a waltz-like melody. It sounds a bit like a calliope.

      As I listen, it occurs to me to try another experiment. I clear my mind, getting everything else out of the way, then wordlessly sing, improvising a melody that might come after what I've already heard. And I find that what I'm singing exactly matches the tune the calliope clock is playing. It's as if, one way or another, we’re drawing from the same source, which is fascinating. So it is just me after all.

      There’s quite a bit that happened after that, most of it involving the man who lived in the house—but, unfortunately, I can only remember the very end, as he was walking out. Shortly after that, I wake up.

      (3.10.18)
      Categories
      lucid
    3. Most LDs In One Night Ever! - September 29

      by
      ZAD
      , 09-29-2018 at 06:14 PM (ZAD's DJ)
      Sep 29 2018

      Background - i didn't get nearly enough sleep during the week (b/t 5 and 6.5 hours a night) so i haven't had lucids since last sunday and have only been remembering 1-2 dreams a night on avg. so maybe this was sort of an extended REM rebound effect? i didn't sit down to meditate (although at many points i made myself hyper-aware) or visit the bathhouse, but anyway i remembered to do math in most of my lucids, got to talk to my dream guide (or it felt like it), and got my subconscious to play music. p. cool night!

      3 NLs - before waking at 5:30 (went to sleep 11:45) (fortunately i wrote all of these down)
      * in 9, my parents are talking to "Mr Jeff" in the front porch, talking about walking sticks as "staves", they examine one i found in the forest when we went to the cabin at the beginning of august
      * in 8, seeing an older woman out of the apartment who had just helped F and I with something or was maybe just visiting. she has the body of a younger person but has surface-level wrinkles, almost like they're a painted-on texture with no depth (they're white) and I think she even had black hair. but her skin also looks quite dry. she reminded me of one of my neighbors who walks two dogs
      * in 512 (grandpa's house) with F and my dad. F and I are sitting at the dining table across from each other, dad is to the right. i have tea and she has water, my dad asks for some of my soft drink because there's some rule that anytime i have soft drinks he gets a portion (he used to do this IRL too ;_ but i tell him i'm drinking tea and that i don't (or barely) drink soft drinks anymore, he points out a detailed list of times i've had soft drinks over the last year. i'm eating a wrap and unexpectedly i see a splotch of guacamole getting pushed out of the top like a tube of toothpaste, i lick it so it doesn't fall and i can vividly remember the taste - it was spot-on. really good guac!

      LD 1 - WILD after WBTB - after lots of HI coming close to successful WILD, finally it's sort of like an FA, in bed, can see light coming through curtain, sit up and move curtain (feel body shift into dream body). It's light out, I look around, look at body and try to transform, wake up. go back to sleep pretty quickly after that

      LD chain 2 - WILD, DEILDs, and DILDs - too many so I'll only write summaries - didn't write all of these down because after finally waking from the chain I just dove right in to the second chain
      * walking outside in area between 9 and neighbor's house, asked subconscious for music to play, got some symphonic. it came and went, but as it faded I would conduct it with my hands and it would get louder. after a bit the music changed to a medium tempo pop instrumental and I conducted it as well. I was focusing on the sight/sound/touch sensations involving the wood fence, white lattice, the foliage, grass, swingset, etc. very vivid
      * converted FA in 8 bedroom, summoning big cuddly dogs (F's grandma has a big dog so whenever we go over there like we did yesterday, I cuddle with it); in the dream they're very warm, i'm starting to feel temperature more in dreams whereas before with touch i would only feel pressure; one of my goals is to actually feel the bones inside my hands and the muscle contractions
      * something with F in 9, can't remember details now...
      * morning daylight scene, approach white service van and enter, there's a moldy (not really decomposed but with a green patina almost?) girl in the back sort of under the carpet (skin sort of the texture of the under-carpet material in floor boards) I try to move her head and her fully black eyes open, I kiss her (or do CPR?) and every time I do she blows air at me, weird weird weird wtf
      * there were a lot more (i'm getting vague impressions of more FAs and maybe one more outdoor one), they're just lost on me -- i'm giving it time and hopefully i'll catch a few more during the day

      LD chain 3 - WILD, DEILDs, and DILDs - too many so I'll only write summaries - had these after a brief wakeup and pee
      * met dream guide as pudgy girl (reminds me of an outgoing version of F's little cousin), talked to her about my thoughts and whether she was real. I didn't ask my subconscious for the dream guide, I just saw her and knew -- i asked "are you my DG?" and she said yes, we held hands and walked through a crowded mall and talked for a bit.
      * fight/murder in crack, blame - there are two men and a woman, the man and woman are fighting (they're married?) on a second-story floor with long cracks perpindicular to the hallway, so that you can see through to the first story (long fall); the second man walks up and says something to the first man that makes him jump through the crack. the woman is distraught but turns to the second man (her lover?) for comfort. at first i'm a semi-lucid observer but after this i summon my dream guide and he shows up in a doorway behind me as a tall built older man, feel his sides (like obliques) through shirt and they're warm. he says it's the only way he could get to me (like KPAX sort of - why is a soap bubble round) (when I first see him I saw other girls who looked similar but definitely different to the girl DG from before, their eyes were different)
      * red curtain in parent's bedroom and transition scene - cool technique where I was looking in a mirror and I summoned a huge red curtain and threw it sort of over and around me and wrapped myself in its suspended self to transition to the next dream, however the next dream was somehow "too small" and so it faded quickly as I couldn't get a grasp on it
      * lost a lot of these too... will keep trying to recall

      as i lay in bed trying to recall and recount these dreams, i'm perfectly still, when i finally do try to move there's heavy resistence and then a snap! and i awaken, it turns out i had been in a detailed FA the whole time, as a result I lost some of the lucids. before waking I could recall 13 lucids total. not too bummed though as I'm sure I'll have a lot tomorrow night too!
    4. “Baby Driver”

      by , 09-15-2018 at 05:35 AM
      Night of September 13, 2018. Tuesday.

      Reading time: 1 min. Readability score: 62.



      Vestibular system correlation begins as my dream begins, which is semi-lucid but allowed to render randomly, as I do not make a willful attempt to orient or give willful detail to any of the patchy space. However, a common thought at this stage is choosing the setting of being on a bus, which is not as expansive a process as a helicopter or airplane (or flying unaided).

      So the setting stabilizes as a bus, seemingly in late afternoon, but I am not corporeal, as I have not fully “stepped in,” though I am on the right of the bus driver’s seat. There is no driver. An empty child safety seat (baby car seat) is atop the empty bus driver’s seat, closer to the steering wheel. The bus is moving in a setting that seems like an ambiguous mix of a bullring (bullfighting arena) and a Nascar venue. Although it is driving itself, my dream self is still liminally controlling its direction and speed.

      The Paul Simon song, “Baby Driver,” is loudly playing from an undetermined source, diffusing through the environment. There is an enhanced awareness of energy and activity. I start to feel very amused and cheerful by the absurdity of the scenario. Most members of the audience are cheering and throwing confetti as the bus circles the area.

      I start to wonder why the Paul Simon song emerged, as I had not heard or thought of it in years. Still feeling cheerful, I decide to come out of my dream.


      Categories
      lucid
    5. In a Dark Place

      by , 09-09-2018 at 02:45 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      There is a woman—some dark entity had reached out for her, badly frightening her. She has shut herself away somewhere to get away from it, but it can still reach her. I can hear her screaming there—but I’m on my way to help her.

      The first thing I have to do is get out of a sort of wooden elevator running down the center of the building. I seem to have entered this way, going down, but none of the doors are opening. Somehow, I can see perfectly fine into the space beyond the shaft, but the walls are definitely there, and the doors are not only solid but quite heavy. I’m alone here in the elevator, but in communication with someone else—someone I know to be my mother, although she isn’t my actual, waking life mother. She seems to be playing some kind of guiding or teaching role.

      Above my head, everything just fades into darkness, like the heights of a cavern. Apparently, it doesn’t occur to most people who come here to look up for a while, and so this comes as a bit of a shock to them, but I can remember having been through this series of events before, and so this place holds no surprises for me. Besides that, I have access to a deeper understanding of the space I’m in: it’s defined by solfege, as if the intervals and their syllables are acting as some kind of abstract structural parameters, and they are also structuring what I am able to do in it and do to it.

      Once I finally manage to get out, I find myself in what seems to be an iteration of my old house in M---. This version looks twisted, hollowed out, dark—actually, there doesn’t seem to be a source of light anywhere, which would explain why, even though I feel vividly present here, it has an odd visual quality to it, and the only non-black color I can see here is blue. I’m using night vision. The blue is brightest in the fog hovering throughout the house, moving as though stirred by currents of air. When this fog is concentrated, it indicates the presence of a ghost—or perhaps it simply is the ghost.

      This whole place gives off a decidedly creepy vibe—a palpable sense of decay and malevolence. But the fact that I already know where all the dangers are takes the edge off the creepiness, as does the fact that this seems to be a case where there is no outcome but success. I already know things are going to turn out fine, and so I don’t let the place bother me too much.

      Now the person who is my mother is physically here with me, a couple rooms away—although, either because the walls are in ruins or because I can see through these ones too, she’s still visible from where I’m looking around the living room. Nothing much seems to be happening at the moment. I’m just keeping an eye on the blue fog. There are some mirrors there in the room: I use them to check my form as I practice jumping from side to side, moving between stances I might need to use later.

      (7.9.18)
    6. Saturday, June 30

      by , 08-28-2018 at 09:28 PM
      I am at a Dead and Company show with Dad and one other guy, probably a family friend. The venue is on a grassy and sandy slope down to the ocean. Down towards the bottom of the slope, I can see the off-white top of the tent (kind of like Shoreline) in which they’re playing. Most of it is hidden by the incline. At times, I can see the band, but it is intermittent for whatever reason. There are also waves breaking that make their way up the slope and I think into the tent. I end up briefly talking with someone I know, before making my way down the slope. The band has started, and I dance as I walk. I think a few people look at me, but they are smiling. I’m by the tent now, and it looks more like a small seaside bar or café. You can walk right into it. Some people are doing just that, but they’re getting kicked out, as they are too close to the band or too much of a nuisance. The atmosphere other than that is very laid back. The band, in a single small room, laughs and chats while tuning up between songs. I think the drum kit is in a room separate but still connected to the other. Bill Kreutzmann is here, but he is just hanging out while another, older man plays the drums. It seems to me that Bill is unable to play tonight for whatever reason. I start talking with this other drummer, but it ends up being me talking to Bill, with him either on the drums or right by them. For a moment, I’m self conscious of taking up time if they’re playing music, but they’re taking a while between songs anyway. I ask Bill, prefacing the question with me knowing that it sounds like a typical fan thing to stay, how he would feel about playing Liberty. I am self conscious of my voice as I am speaking. He looks as if he’s really thinking about it. I mention how it would be fitting since it’s so close to the 4th of July. I also wonder if they’d play it mid-set or for the encore. Bill says he’s not sure, because he never really got the pace of the song and his playing was never really coherent on it. I think of versions I’ve heard and guess I could see it. He tells me that’s why they started playing [something with a longer name] in ‘94 and ‘95. This song is, I think, similar to Liberty in tempo and lyrical theme. I nod, thinking of my notes of shows, not sure I’ve ever actually heard it. I think he sees the uncertainty in my nod and briefly wonder if he’s thinking that I’m not that versed in the music, but I know I’ve listened to a fair amount of their shows in that era. (Whatever the name of the song was, it’s not an actual song they’ve done).
    7. In Square Spiral

      by , 08-23-2018 at 10:47 AM
      Morning of August 23, 2018. Thursday.

      Reading time: 42 sec. Readability score: 66.



      In my dream, I am in an unknown setting, finding myself wandering around in an ambiguous inside-outside feature. (That is, I seem to be outside and inside at the same time. It is a dream awareness, quite common, that I cannot consciously resolve.)

      I am mainly near a structure that models Ulam’s spiral. I walk along an outer wall. I see Christopher Franke standing near one corner and talking about a particular song. I have a vague but incorrect memory that Tangerine Dream did the soundtrack for “The Bermuda Depths.” Another male is playing a keyboard. It is supposed to be a live commercial or promo, but Christopher forgets the name of the song, though is not angry. He is cheerful about the mistake.

      I continue to go inward around the square spiral. I know I will probably see Christopher again near (and before) another turn. As I approach, I know he is dressed differently, promoting a different song. I know there will be additional versions of him near other corners. I do not consider this unusual.


    8. My Strange Music Video

      by , 08-12-2018 at 08:59 AM
      Night of August 12, 2018. Sunday.

      Reading time: 1 min 29 sec. Readability score: 73.



      I had made a music video of one of my songs. An unknown male happily praises my work, saying how “perfect” it is. I had supposedly not seen it for a long time.

      The video recording is somehow on an audio cassette. (I have not recorded on audio cassettes for years.) I notice that the tape, in a cassette deck about three feet below the monitor and vertically oriented, had been left near the middle and I remember that not having a cassette tape rewound when not in use exposes the surface and might cause wow and flutter and damage the area. I start to play it, but it is about a minute into the song, so I rewind it to the beginning of the video.

      “My” song turns out to be a strange version of “Sloop John B.” It mostly features me standing and singing in front of the sides of old ships. I am singing out of key. My voice is wavering and is annoying. Not all the words are the same as the original song, but I eventually make out, “So hoist up the John B’s sail. See how the mainsail sets.”

      In the last scene, I notice a cannon pointed towards the viewer, on the right of where I am standing in a closeup shot from my chest up. It appears to be protruding from behind a tarpaulin.



      My dream is a typical mix of associations that are unrelated. The main idea comes from sailing, as I had been using the word “oneironaut” (“dream sailor”) in some dream-related essays I had recently been writing. (Boats and water occur regularly in my dreams as it is.) Another word I had been using recently is “canon,” though related to known facts about my dreaming history. (In contrast, there are photographs from when I was about four, where I sat astride a cannon in a park.) Being the video’s last scene, it is the reactive representation of the cessation of the dream state. (Additionally, it may be a phallus association that reflects a need to wake and use the bathroom). In real life, I had recently made a video of a recent track of mine, but there are no vocals.


    9. Another New Way of Making Music

      by , 07-25-2018 at 08:03 AM
      Morning of July 25, 2018. Wednesday.

      Reading time: 1 min 25 sec. Readability score: 64.



      Throughout my life, I have had numerous dreams in which I produced music using a surreal method. Some that were significantly more abstract involved my body becoming different musical notes in a series as I remained in bed.

      In this dream, I have a setup where I make music videos for people based on video content they give me or notes on where to find the content. I produce this music by using a machine that looks like a filing cabinet.

      I am creating three different tracks (two of which are similar), but two have minimal content and are only eight bars in length. I focus mostly on a reggae track that only has a kick, high hat, and a horn. The horn motif is mostly the same note, but with different duration. I am contemplating the addition of a snare, but I do not get around to adding one.

      I arrange the music with each note of each instrument serving as a folder in the filing cabinet drawer. The rendering of the music begins from the front of the filing cabinet drawer. The lowest frequency of each beat is first in each sequence. The usage of timing and rhythm (implying sheet music format) involves reading each note from the bottom of each beat section (that the high hat indicates), moving up. For example, there would be a kick “folder,” followed by a few horn “folders,” followed by several high hat “folders.” It does not sound like a recording I have heard in waking life.

      Before I wake, I am seemingly adding sixty-fourth “notes” between a few others that are probably eighths. However, I am likely adding sixteenths amidst eighths instead as I am not thinking clearly. I assume that because each folder features a couple of straight parallel indentations on each side, above where it folds. That would logically make it a sixteenth note. (A sixty-fourth note would have four such indentations.)

      Curiously, my method of the folder placement in the drawer seems correct, although it would be difficult in reality. I do not see any sheet music to aid in the validation of the arrangement.


      Updated 07-25-2018 at 08:43 AM by 1390

      Categories
      non-lucid
    10. Greensleeves, Green Door

      by , 07-13-2018 at 01:18 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      As usual, I find myself lucid in a dream without being able to remember how it happened. I am on a stage, a raised platform at one end of a tall, rectangular room with no windows and a door at the far end—picture a racquetball court and you’ll have a pretty good idea of the layout and size. The area where I am is lit while the area where the audience is sitting is darker, with some light shining in from the doorway.

      I’m singing up here and simultaneously trying my hardest to get my bouzouki to show up so I can accompany myself on it. I look around the stage area periodically, whenever I get the chance, but it just doesn’t seem to be turning up. I notice a couple guys in the audience heading for the door. Annoyed, I will them back to their seats, but they seem to sense what I’m doing and bolt. Oh, well.

      In the meantime, though, my efforts to materialize myself some accompaniment seem to have paid off. There is now an array of stringed and fretted instruments in the center of the stage, a dozen or so, leaning against stands or lying on chairs. Many of them are exotic instruments I don’t recognize, and unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a bouzouki among them. I settle for the closest match— some kind of lute, judging by the angled neck and larger body. Maybe I can intend it to have a string configuration I can work with. I pick it up and sit down in the chair it was on to play. I was singing “Greensleeves” before, and so I start again from the beginning, this time accompanying myself.

      Alas, my love, you do me wrong
      To cast me off discourteously…

      This is more like it. It seems to work best if I don’t focus too much on what I’m doing with my hands and let it take care of itself, like a spot of localized non-lucidity.

      Partway through the song, though, I find myself in another room—there seems to be a small memory gap, but I’m guessing this was a false awakening I managed to identify as another dream straightaway. This room is very similar to the one I was just in—it could be the same one if not for the lack of a raised stage area and the fact that there is now a door where the opening was. It’s a metal door painted bright green.

      The room is empty apart from a mat on the floor which is furnished like a bed. Looking at it stirs faint memories of sleepovers with friends—nice memories, ones I haven’t thought about in a long time. Much of the wooden floor is covered by a rug patterned with dragons—the Asian sort—in red, blue and green. As I look at it, they move and shift in mesmerizing ways, and the perspective flattens a little as the rug occupies my field of vision. I think to myself: I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming. I don’t want to get so absorbed in it that I lose awareness.

      I look away to consider the door and what might be beyond it. Thoughts come to me—memories, almost, if I took them more seriously—of rooms and people beyond. But that’s a rather serious-looking door.

      I wake up.

      (11.7.18)
      Categories
      lucid
    11. White Audio Tape not Playing Correctly

      by , 07-05-2018 at 07:08 PM
      Morning of June 30, 2018. Saturday.



      The setting is unknown but implied to be our present home. I had been given an audio tape with music on it, from an unknown young male. Zsuzsanna is present. The music is like a mix of dub and progressive rock and has a science-fiction theme.

      The tape is about as wide as reel-to-reel tape. It is shiny white but otherwise has the same texture. I attempt to play it by putting it in a large device in which one end of the tape goes up at an angle, about a foot away, onto what looks like an oversized spool for a sewing machine. This is set up inside a cupboard near floor level.

      It plays at times but keeps getting jammed. I notice that it is irregularly encircling the higher spool to my right. The rest of the audio tape in transit is not touching anything as it winds around the higher spool from the other part of whatever I am using to “play” its audio. I get annoyed, take it out, and realize that it will not play correctly, as it has a buildup of gray spots on it, which I call “gray oxide”. I am slightly annoyed at being given a older audio tape that will not play correctly.


      Tags: audio tape, music
      Categories
      non-lucid
    12. Soundfont Fiasco and Roosevelt Not Roosevelt

      by , 06-28-2018 at 10:16 AM
      Morning of June 24, 2018. Sunday.



      This entry is about two dreams of a different nature, though of which occurred during the same sleep cycle.

      In one dream, I am in an unknown room in semidarkness. A friend and classmate from years ago, Roosevelt, is seated at a different table than I am. I am talking to him about a “different” Roosevelt as he is writing something, not listening to me very closely. The Roosevelt I am talking about is in reference to who he is now in contrast to our school days (even though virtually everything else regarding my current conscious self identity is not extant in this dream scenario). (He is now a well-known singer in Germany.) After a time, I am very puzzled by what I am thinking, as the Roosevelt at the other table is apparently the same one I am thinking of and I wonder if he will be annoyed because of this. I cannot clearly focus on the scenario. I am even wondering where the “other” Roosevelt is even though he is at the other table and there is only one Roosevelt. This is a typical dream state waking process, where my conscious self identity is emerging more slowly. The two literal threads of which are both the one Roosevelt have not yet coalesced. (Synaptic gating and preconscious coalescence is a major factor of the waking process and is often rendered by way of dream state autosymbolism.)

      In my other dream, it seems I am seeking more soundfonts, though very curiously, they are actual objects rather than computer files. I have many of them and I am testing them to see if they could be feasible for producing music. There is an unknown male present in some scenes. We are sharing information on these supposed soundfonts to see which ones sound best.

      These fictitious “soundfonts” are a bit like miniature comb kazoos that one must press their lips around and blow on, the difference being a vague similarity to reeds with several “teeth” and without the need for paper over them. I have a library of them which supposedly includes one million eight hundred thousand (1,800,000) different flute sounds. I also recall one relating to various sounds of trombones.

      At another point, I see a set of hundreds of dog stickers or icons of which are somehow related to the soundfonts as possibly some sort of context menu or somehow descriptive, mostly only sketches. They include dog firemen and other scenes of dogs in human activities.

      Much of my dream involves playing these supposed soundfonts in an unfamiliar outdoor area, though my dream eventually distorts into the usual indoor-outdoor ambiguity (the sense of being indoors and outdoors at the same time, a common factor of the dream state itself, mainly caused by subliminal awareness of being asleep in bed while thinking about being outside).


      Tags: music
      Categories
      non-lucid
    13. Interrupted Lesson; Beyond the Outskirts

      by , 06-21-2018 at 01:44 AM (The Fourth Factor)
      I’m in a study, sitting at a desk facing a wall. A man is sitting to my left. This seems to be some kind of music lesson: we have sheets of manuscript paper in front of us, and I’m doing some sort of exercise where I fill in bits of the melodies that aren’t written. I’m having trouble figuring out how to notate the rhythm I have in mind, but after moving to something else for a little while, I come back and manage it easily. I write the notes in with a red pen, very neatly.

      The lesson’s almost over when a young girl, 7 or 8, runs into the room and lies down on the desk in front of us—the man’s daughter. She seems to be in a silly mood. She speaks to him in German - we've been speaking English until now - and he answers. She moves across the room, and they have an exchange in which he asks her questions, but she just gives nonsense answers and giggles (and totally ignores me). I just watch and pet the cat, a gray tabby that’s also entered the room, not at all put out by the interruption. Before long, a woman who seems to be a nanny comes in, presumably for the girl.

      I wake up.

      In the next dream, I’m staying in a large hotel with my parents. As I walk through the lobby, towards the staircase, I see a number of men dressed in suits of armor decorated with intricate patterns and women in white ballerina’s outfits with similar patterns in silver. Some sort of wedding party, I figure.

      After a quick trip to the room, which is at the end of a hallway, my mother and I seem to be walking out, away from the city center and towards the outskirts. This is Wilhelmshöhe, apparently—although it would be hard to find a place that looks less like the actual place of that name. There’s less and less to see as we walk along. Less traffic, too. A man drives a horse-drawn carriage past and gives us a peculiar look. Somehow, I have the feeling that we’re expected here, and he’s a part of it.

      And, an unknown period of time after that, I’ve been transported to a different place, a large building full of people getting ready to something to begin. I’m a part of it, too, now. A man is explaining to me what’s going on in a mixture of French and German. That seems to be the norm here, and I slip into it too as I speak with him.

      I comment at one point that something he just said sounded more like how people talk in movies than in real life—or dreams, I add. Because I do know it’s a dream by now, although I’m not sure just when the realization hit me. But I’m going along with it because it looks like some interesting and possibly important things are going on here.

      Unusually for a lucid dream, it was difficult to remember much of what happened—some details stood out, but a lot of it just blurred together. The man I’ve been talking to seems to be in charge and has us carry out different tasks, and give answers to questions. I seem to be apart from the others somehow, involved, but playing a different role.

      (17.6.18)
      Categories
      lucid , non-lucid
    14. Tuesday, June 5

      by , 06-06-2018 at 04:04 AM
      Two fragments remembered upon waking and not written down, but summarized after reflecting upon them again and written down later in the day.

      I’m with Alex in some room (a hotel?), and we’ve been sitting on the bed. I tell him that I calculated the odds of the Flatbush Zombies playing a Grateful Dead song on their current tour and it came out to be 33? times in however many shows. The odds of catching one seem to be pretty good. Alex seems to think this is pretty cool.

      I am with Dad in a grocery store, getting something for dinner and an alcohol to go with it. I can’t decide which to get, but I keep thinking about one of the options - a wine. I make my decision and go and grab it, the 2 liter white wine.
      Tags: alcohol, music
      Categories
      Uncategorized
    15. Lost in thought...

      by , 05-10-2018 at 07:07 PM
      I'm walking about in my studio, which is just a fancy name for my computer room with big TV home theater setup and consoles. I'm lost in thought thinking what to do. I have so much to do, but I feel stagnant. I have enrolled in so many courses online as well. I just couldn't decide what to do and am feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the stuff I set out to do. I stop for a moment and look around.

      I notice that the room is completely empty. No home theater stuff, no couch, no computer table or chair. It's all completely empty. It occurs to me immediately I'm in a dream. However, I didn't feel like doing anything. I was feeling indifferent about the realization. I wanted to continue thinking about what I wanted to do. I tried jumping and immediately I started to float about as if there was no gravity. I continued being lost in thought just floating from one end of the room to the other and back again. It was calming to just float and think. I think to myself it would be cool if I can do this in waking.

      I decide to get grounded again and place my feet on the floor and suddenly the room changes somewhat. It now becomes a bedroom, but not exactly like my bedroom. It's as if my bed and stuff had been moved into my studio. I look around. That was sort of cool. It was bit dim though without enough light coming in through the windows. It was nighttime. I turn on the lights and sit down on edge of my bed. I didn't feel motivated to do anything. I decide I'll go take a relaxing bath. There is a knock at the door, I reply with "you can come in." It was Kana. She comes in looking surprised to see our studio turned into a bedroom. There was that unmistakable radiance about her, this was not just a Kana dream character. I ask her how she was feeling. She looks at me and tilts her head "Hey, you are lucid..." I look away. I say "Maybe... anyway, I was thinking of taking a bath." She looks puzzled. "In a dream?" she asks. I get up and ask her playfully if she wants to join me. She gets all flustered replying "look who's all grown up now." Of course, I was teasing. Something Kana used to do all the time. The bathtub wasn't nearly big enough for two anyway and I didn't feel like manipulating the dream. Kana says she's gonna nap if I'm not going to do anything. I get up and get undressed and wrap myself in towel. Then I put on light music and place my phone in the basket in the bathroom. I fill up the bathtub and put in some bath salts. I get into the warm bath. It was relaxing. I listen to the music. I never heard the music before. I lean my head back looking at the ceiling wondering what I'm doing. I'm in a lucid dreaming, I can be doing anything else but I had no motivation. I could be hanging out with Kana, but she would realize I'm feeling troubled and I didn't want to worry her. I think about my online courses and which I should prioritize. I still haven't put our life back together since Kana passed away. I get lost in thought. I start to feel drowsy and the dream fades.

      Updated 05-10-2018 at 09:01 PM by 68908

      Categories
      lucid
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