Non-dream stuff; woke up early not remembering any dreams in particular. Eventually fell asleep again and then woke up at around 10, then being woken up "more" by the door. Some non-lucid stuff: Dream fragment 1: I remember seeing a big (to me) naval vessel from camera-like perspective, I think it would be a destroyer or frigate-class, which I think are the two smallest classes. I remember getting the "keys" for it, but don't remember actually driving it. Dream fragment 2: I remember being in a car like a modern Nissan and I think I was in one of the front seats, though initially my point of view was at a low height but the car was moving on its own, as there was nobody else in it, and then I was a little bit concerned about how fast it was going to go down a hill, because it was a T-intersection and I was trying to put a seatbelt on. Dream sequence 3: I remember a place like a campus or open gardens for some sort of educational complex. It was day, but probably cloudy as things looked a bit grey and I don't remember sharp shadows. Probably around mid-day. Me and my partner were walking along some concrete slabs that were the paving in this trimmed grass garden area, he was ahead of me, and I was seemingly fixed on my phone and we walked through a building and I realised I was holding an apple pencil on my right hand, to which I thought "wait why did I bring this but forget the tablet?" so I put it in my right pocket. I seem to remember I was wearing my casual pants, as it were, which I likely wouldn't have been in the context of the dream if it were waking life. We got to a T or corner with the paving and went up some long but not very high steps, only about 3 or 4 steps, into a building. As we walked in I remember metallic catwalks and fluorescent tubes on the ceiling. There was a reception with a lady, with glasses. She was focused on whatever she was doing and I was still fixated on my phone, noticing on some level that my posture was very bad. We went up some metal stairs on to the catwalk tier and pushed a metal door and entered a room. It had dark wooden board flooring, the walls were a similar colour, and the end of the room had 3 or 4 massive old-style industrial windows. I made particular note as we walked into the room that there were some paintings; portraits of contemporary, people, oddly enough at least one of them was a teacher from the university I went to in waking life. Then there was a man standing in the room, I realised, as I turned after reaching a point near the windows, and he had his arms crossed but not because of us or anything, was just his pose, and some big men started to come in carrying some stuff, which I didn't make note of. The man addressed me and said "do you have an order?", to which I said "do I have an order?", realising suddenly what he meant after I asked it, I said, "no, I don't have an order", to which he replied something about it being best we weren't in that room then. I did somehow feel that we had entered a room we weren't allowed to enter. Anyway, he walked out with us from the room, as we had nothing else to look at inside anyway and the men were busy bringing stuff in. As we walked back out into the main lobby, it was transformed from before; now it matched the other room, dark warm, red-ish wooden colours. We went down the stairs, which now were wooden stairs with red carpet of some kind, and I said something and it sounded loud, to which the receptionist, still there and now seeing to some other people, asked me to be quiet or something to that effect. The man replied something to me and we kept walking down until we reached a window with an alcove, and the three of us sat there, as there was a red pillow thing. For some reason now I remember being sat at a table, but in any case we were having a conversation about something and the man asked something like "were you looking for the old paintings?" (I think I mentioned something of it) and he said how that other room used to have very famous paintings and started recounting which ones. Oddly enough, my partner who is not artist, understood perfectly what paintings they were and who the painters were. I was simply confused, as I never tend to remember most painters, even famous ones, despite being an artist myself. I remember my partner and the man were on the other side of the table now, it was definitely a table now and made of the same dark red hued wood, looking glossy. My partner started saying something about "how ridiculous it is that my phone now has to level up to increase its battery life" and as I watched them talk about whatever I suddenly noticed I was getting a bit of a visual aura. I do remember something about my own phone having recently maxed some leveling up attribute and having taken many years to do so. There was some kind of transition and I don't remember what the context was now but I saw things in a camera-like way and could highlight people and objects in an orange-tinted interface and examine what they had on them remotely. Some notes: In fragment 2, the context within the car was a clear dream-sign, but unfortunately in that context I never seem to remember to RC because of how "important" it seems to do certain things in that moment.In the long dream sequence, it's odd that I was so fixated on my phone, only explained slightly by the dream with the leveling up thing.Normally it could be the other way around, like if we've gone shopping, my partner will be the one looking at the phone and I'll be the one leading our walking.The building we entered felt like a library, both before and after we went into that room with the paintings.The apple pencil is an item I've only recently come into contact with, so it's interesting that it has actually carried over to my dreams, but it did feel odd that its accompanying tablet wasn't present.I remember feeling like I could get embarrassed for carrying the apple pencil while looking at my phone which is an android phone. Somehow I felt there was some conflict.The fact that I explicitly made note of my posture but did not try to correct it could have been a cue to do a RC. Some physiotherapy I received recently was all about posture and it made me far more conscious of it than I have ever been before, so I will correct posture more often than not when I notice it's an issue.I felt like the man we spoke to was the curator of the art in that building.It was curious to see the receptionist, as she looked like the one from my other recent dream journal entry, and her reception desk was not too dissimilar despite the completely altered context.The visual aura in the dream was odd. I started to cover my eyes to check that it was one in the dream, as I would in waking life. It's the first time this has ever happened in a dream.Me and my dad get visual auras at complete random. There is no associated migraine or pain for them as there are for many people, and the cause of our visual auras seems to be unknown.The aura in the dream didn't look quite like what happens in waking life but it did bother me and obstruct my field of view.
This kid of no particular gender has just gotten a lift to a particular town, saying "Here's fine," to the person who gave them a ride. They walk into a diner. As they walk up to the counter I'm thinking how feminine they look, in contrast to some previous appearance. They know the waitress, and they greet her in a familiar way; the waitress looks them over but doesn't recognize them and asks if she should know them. They say no. They're happy that she didn't recognize them even after they sort of clued her in that she should. As they leave the diner, they pass their father coming in. Their father doesn't recognize them either. He mistakes them for being part of some group of out-of-towners who are currently passing through, people he resents, and he complains about that to the waitress when he gets to the counter. The waitress asks if he knew that person leaving, he says no. The waitress says it looks like they knew him - they're still standing outside, looking through the window, staring at the back of his head right now. Outside, the kid walks past a car. The two guys in the car say something to each other about how that person's too pretty for their own safety, and needs someone to ugly them up a bit - a threat. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) There's a man I'm meant to capture - I'm holding a small box which I'm meant to store him in. He's trying to convince me to turn against the people I'm working for, the Head Office. He mentions that they put him in a 7-color-prison - a shield of a particular 'color' prevents the power used by that 'color' from passing through; a 7-color-prison would normally be considered overkill. He mentions this as part of describing to me the cruel way he was treated by the Head Office, trying to convince me that they have to be stopped. But it has the opposite effect; I believe that if he was judged so dangerous as to require a 7-color-prison, I can't trust his words. I put him in the box. His sister was watching this whole thing, but although she's upset there's nothing she can do to stop me - she's an innocent, she's got no power of her own. I hand over the box to a guy from the Head Office who's waiting outside - he's new, young, and looks afraid of the box even as he takes it. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) I've walked into a bath house. This place belongs to a group that I think of with a word that at the time I believed meant the young men of the city protected by Apollo (but the word I actually used was 'lemures,' the restless dead). It's empty and unused, and there are exposed pipes that are turning black. As I look around, I think that this explains the abandoned building next door. (Woke up. Back to sleep.) There's this kid, high school age, who set out to change himself, improve himself somehow, and I - as a disembodied voice - am asking him what his goal had been when he'd started. He'd wanted to be able to take care of his aging father. He's lost track of that along the way. The scene changes from a hill outdoors to a classroom - he's popular, admired. This is a recent development, one of the things he's changed about himself. But he doesn't seem happy with the people around him - he seems arrogant, he looks down on them. And he forgets to spend time with his father. I see him with his father at a small table - they joke around with each other and talk the way people who are close sometimes do, with so many in-jokes and understood references to past events that it's effectively their own language. His father doesn't mind that he's so busy. But the kid recognizes that he's lost track of his original goal, and he has to correct his course. He goes to the house that he's been using to change himself, a place that grants wishes of a sort. Inside the house, which is a Victorian, old and mostly empty except for portraits on the walls, he's greeted by three men. The one who talks to him is short, maybe 5 feet at the most, plain, and with curly red hair. The men ask him to stay and eat and drink himself into a coma with them again. He refuses. They say it's better than the alternative, but let him go on up the stairs. Every time he's come here to change himself, he's had to go a little deeper into this house. The first time, eating and drinking with them was enough. Upstairs, a creature with a helmet that hides its face and with long metal hooks for hands emerges from the wall. The kid's met this creature before too, and knows how to deal with it. There's a sequence where I see various creatures and people emerge from the wall one by one, and it's implied that the kid deals with each of them in turn, but there's no need to actually watch the process play out since this has all happened before, and how to deal with each one of them is already known. The last one to emerge from the wall is a dashing man, blonde, cheerful, sort of an Errol Flynn-type character, as if he's just stepped out of a swashbuckling flick. They've met before, and they talk for a bit. This man will go up the next set of stairs on the kid's behalf, and arrange for him to get his wish. Other people have done this for the kid before, a different person every time he's visited this place. My point of view switches to follow the Errol Flynn-type at this point while the kid stays downstairs. In the room at the top of the stairs is a portrait of a little girl - the kid's met her before. The two of them talk, and she emerges from the portrait. Long straight dark hair, a long white dress, and pink satin slippers with rosebuds. She quickly drops the personality that the kid would have been familiar with, and the Errol Flynn-type winds up on the floor in front of her, kissing her feet - fear, not devotion. She states that she collects "shades of the Ampha Berra family" - she opens a panel in her dress, displaying many different shades of bloodstains on the fabric underneath. The Errol Flynn-type won't survive, and she'll change the kid as he asked.
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