Recent DJ Posts

Music
With no real way of knowing where I am, I know that I'm in Indonesia. It's already somewhat late in the evening. I'm walking around in a mall and feel like it's near closing time. I hurry a bit, because I still want to buy some earplugs. I enter a store that looks like it's an electronics store. I believe the floor consists out of white tiles, which have been polished until they shine. It kinda looks as if there are two entrances behind one another. As if there is a 'pre-shop' to the actual shop. There are two salesmen standing in the 'pre-shop'. All this consists of just a counter. Without me having said anything, one of them asks me if I want to buy earplugs. He just really wants to sell. Because I came here to buy earplugs I go along with it. I look at the counter. There are purple earplugs connected to a black iPhone I believe. I tell the salesman in Indonesian that I want to try those. I put them in and connect them to my own black iPhone. I'm scrolling through my playlist. I want to try these using the song Backseat Freestyle by Kendrick Lamar. I keep looking through the music I have of him, but I can't find this song. Then I decide that it's no problem, as it's just for testing anyway. I play a song and I can hear it being played double. I take out my earplugs. The sound is coming both from the earplugs and the speakers, but it isn't synchronised. How annoying! This is totally inconvenient. If I sit in an angkot [public transport minivan] everyone will hear it. I want to tell this to the salesman, but I'm struggling to find the words in Indonesian.

Selling
It's daytime and I'm standing somewhere on the street. I'm with a colleague. It's one of my first days as a street sales person. I approach a girl to convince her to become a member of whatever it is I'm standing for. At some point I've convinced her. I put my black bag on the ground and grab 5 pens out of the front pocket with one hand. I present them to her, so she can have her pick of which one she wants to use. There are two green ones which I know are empty already, so I'm hoping slightly that she won't take those. Then I remember that the registration form is still in my bag as well. I grab it out of the main pocket.

Train
I'm standing in a train, near the end of a carriage. In front of the door to the other carriage is a steel rod on which I decide to sit. It's blocking the way for someone to enter, so I move. I look at my phone to consult the train app for travel information. This new version is bothering the hell out of me. On the left I can choose a time of departure and on the right I can do something similar. Who thought of this? It's totally not convenient! To make matters worse my screen responds erratically to my touches.

Morning of September 21, 2015. Monday.



This is a long dream with a clear and maintained perspective, though never lucid. I am in Brazil and speaking Brazilian Portuguese throughout, though there is also a consistent awareness that everything translates into English in “real time”. It starts out in a slum near some markets at the top of a higher hill though I eventually find my way to a different area where a Caucasian male (probably in his early thirties) is attempting to sell a pickup truck to an older Brazilian male. I interrupt their conversation, saying that I can sell him the truck he needs. I tell him to wait where he is and I will bring it around (from behind a building at an intersection). No truck exists yet, though I know I can just manifest one and sell it to him (again, even though I have no lucid awareness).

I go to an area out of sight from the other males and see at least one outdoor cafe. There are a lot of people around. I mentally focus and a dark blue pickup truck appears, and some people are somewhat surprised. I drive it back the short distance to the other males and show it to the potential buyer. He seems interested but I tell him I have another one I can show him. It seems important that the truck can be driven on an incline and this vehicle may not be powerful enough.

I go around and mentally will another pickup truck into existence. This one is smaller and of an orange color but it is a newer model than the previous. When I take it to the potential buyer though, the bed is apparently too small to hold as much as he needs it to. I then remember that modern new products are not only not made very well (or made to last very long), but that there has been a problematic trend towards miniaturization of everything. I tell him that I will go and bring back a third pickup truck which I am sure he will find suitable.

I go around to the cafe area again to create a pickup truck out of thin air for the third time. This one is a red one from the 1950s. When I bring it around (being careful not to hit any of the obstacles coming out of the parking lot and into the street again), I notice that instead of a cab, the front now looks a bit like an oversized steering area of my old Red Flyer wagon and the seating area is external. Still, I am able to control it and steer it without falling off the front, though it is an odd way to drive a vehicle, almost reminiscent of a stage coach. The potential buyer looks at the bed and I notice a lot of pillow stuffing in the back covered partly with an old worn dark green tarpaulin. This seems a bit annoying and is evidence it had been used a lot previously, but after a few minutes, the older male wants to buy it, because it is large enough and useful, and he needs one right away to carry on with his jobs. He asks me how much and I say “a hundred and fifty dollars”. He pays me in Brazilian Real. His son gives it to him and he gives it to me. It is in a small thin envelope that looks like it may hold airplane tickets instead.

At this point, the other male that was first trying to sell him a truck looks at me and says that he cannot believe it, though he does not seem angry. He probably wonders where I got all the trucks. I have a slight concern that the people on the other side of the buildings will reveal that my trucks came out of nowhere like magic, which may bring about confusion or gossip. I decide to leave the region for now.

From here, my dream shifts, though remains in the same general setting. There are soon many more people around. I am aware of an unknown female of about forty holding a penknife up to her throat as she is walking around. It seems she may be intent on committing suicide as well as perhaps infecting other people with her blood and I know that I need to be away from any blood spray, though nothing actually happens and I am able to leave the area without incident.

There are some curious plays on lucid dreaming (even though I am not lucid at any point) and sleep in this dream. Firstly, there is the creation of three vehicles to drive (out of mind power alone) that even have “beds”. The last truck’s bed even has pillow stuffing under a cover (which I do not even catch represents the sleeping process itself). The “interpretation” is, that although I am creating vehicles to steer out of nothing (with the enhanced change and focus on the Red Flyer’s steering section), I still do not become lucid even when my dream relates to metaphorically “driving the bed”. I find this dream very amusing, including with the “Brazilian Real” as the currency used. One hundred and fifty dollars relates to Dunbar’s number. “By using the average human brain size and extrapolating from the results of primates, he (Dunbar) proposed that humans can only comfortably maintain 150 stable relationships”. The small envelope that looks like it is for airplane tickets probably is a nod to the waking process (or leaving my dream). I am not sure about the woman at the end unless she simply represents cutting off the dream state.

I dreamt that I was a dwarven merchant in the Dragon age universe. I was in a city called Kirkwall (the setting for dragon 2) and standing on a wide paved street next to a huge pile of candy on a table.

I had been planning an expedition, and the candy had been part of the supplies, but the expedition was either cancelled or a failure (can't remember which) and now I had to sell all the candy. I was complaining about this to someone, and told him that they were really hard to sell.

Level of Lucidity: 0
Level of Clarity: 5
Level of Realism: 4
(levels based 0-10, 0-5 being low - good 5-10 being great - extreme)

I am sitting in my grandparents basement which is now my Uncles living quarters. There's a few other people standing around in the room, they seem to be friends but I can't make out who they are. The room is dark. The television is on. There's an advertisement for a new movie on the TV. One of the friends in the room says that he has some tickets to get to see the movie, about 6 of them. Everyone in the room reacted as if he just said he has a bunch of guns and wants us to sell them, and we're some sort of mafia.

The dream gets hazy but we wind up in a car going to a restaurant, and in the car the "mob boss" is telling us that these are VERY rare movie tickets, and that we should make sure not to just sell them for an average movie ticket price, because these tickets are for a movie which isn't out yet, making the price worth 10x what they normally are.

The dream skips a bit and now me, and a friend are sitting at a table in a restaurant. It's a nice restaurant, there's waiters wearing nice white shirts and ties carrying black trays with fine wines and foods. The room is dimly lit in a semi-romantic sort of way, and the decoration around us consists of statues, fancy paintings and such.

I was watching myself and my friend talking to a lady at the table in third person. I didn't look like myself. I looked like Jason Sudeikis:



The lady at the table was trying to bargain with us for the tickets. I told her "No! We won't take ANYTHING less than 300 Euros for two tickets."

The lady shook her head and reached forward for an empty plate. She moved it closer to her and then set 150 Euros on the plate. One 100 Euro note, and one 50 Euro note. She then slid it closer to us and raised her eyebrow as if to challenge us.

I accepted the challenge and said "You know what.... It's 60,000 Euros now!" She started to get up and reach for her money to leave when my friend sitting next to me dove forward for the money, but it was just out of reach, so he started using his fork to try to hook the plate to pull it towards him. I suddenly felt like I was watching from third person, and was no longer a character in the scene. I started laughing at the ridiculousness of the two guys at the table, it felt like I was watching a good comedy. Then Jason said "Ohhh! I see how this works! You get paid more depending on your rank!" (This of course made no sense.. but dream logic ftw.)

Finally my friend got a hold on the money and sat back in his chair as if nothing happened, and he didn't just dive across a fine dining table. The lady looked over to Jason and he sighed and tossed down two tickets. The lady made a "Ahem!" sort of coughing noise, and then reached in her purse, and aimed a small gun at him, she was robbing us for the tickets. Jason sighed again and tossed the other 4 tickets down too. "Oh come on!" - Jason.

The dream becomes hazy and I woke up.

I was setting up a small booth with fruit from the garden, by the road behind our barn. Filled it with strawberries and cherries. A passing woman said "you need to put some coffee and cake in there too", so I walked around the barn to our front yard where how fortunately, my mom had put some cake up for me to use. Cut to me walking along the road behind our barn, when a mechanical insect scatters across the driveway in which my father is standing, watching.