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March 1, 2015

I was in some area looking for a jeep to ride. I ended up in a place (reminiscent of Bacolod) where jeepneys/cars were stacked one over the other, like a junkyard. It's like it was used for blocking something out. It was hard to get a jeep. There was a line for one. Something about monopoly on jeepneys. It was daytime.

Nighttime. I was in some area with trees and buildings (reminiscent of USLS Bacolod at night near the football field and behind the library). I was looking for something. I was about to go up a set of stairs when I saw a girl with a ball of light. I think it was my sister. Some ideas about light causing fire and that the two are separate but related powers.

Bridge, Batman, T-rex.

---

Notes:

- I was so busy when I had this dream that I wasn't able to write it down immediately, just some keywords.

(Mar. 3, 2014)

- I just realized that the sphere shape and the yellow color represents the element air (in different cultures) and fire, well, fire. I used to focus on a blue circle/sphere as a representation of air (J. Mumford) although yellow is the more well-known color for air.
- Just realized this after dreaming of water and earth in another dream.

I'm in a garden, speaking in Russian with a very old human man in a wheelchair. We have an arrangement. I'm to kill him, but as he puts it, without ugliness. That he wants his death to be smooth, I have no problem with, but this ugliness he's referring to isn't about his own death, it's about preserving his image of me, or rather what I represent to him. He says I'm a man who should understand this, unlike that brother of mine - he uses a word that my dream doesn't bother to translate aside from noting that it's uncomplimentary. The old man wants to believe in the existence of a creature that's above all the things he dislikes in humanity, an embodiment of death without ugliness. I'm disgusted and feel illogically betrayed by hearing this from him, a man more intimately acquainted with violence than any human I've ever known - he of all people shouldn't have any illusions about this. It's hypocrisy.

As he talks we move indoors, to a dimly-lit room that's kept very cold. He has a selection of alcohol lined up before a mirror, and I go to pour him a glass; as I do so I see a small portrait of a blonde woman, which I pick up. A woman who works for him, who's been pushing his wheelchair, urgently asks me to be careful with that. I recognize the image as his granddaughter - she's how I met him in the first place, years back. He laughs and corrects me, and he says this in English: "Vivian. Her mother." This startles me, and I examine the portrait again - I would never have guessed they weren't the same person. Her mother had died before I met her.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

While using a spell to pull out some relevant books and scrolls from a collection, one of the books that comes to me is titled "The Unbeauty of Life," by a Japanese author.

I'm running up several flights of stairs, spiraling upward through a ruined building, piles of rubble around; I should have fled the building with the others when I reached the first floor but instead I kept going upward, thinking of the woman I'd originally come here to track down. As I reach the upper levels I find her laboratory, with her books scattered on the floor, sarcophagi in rows. The next level above that is devoted to "the theatrical vampire," complete with red stage curtains hanging on the wall, full of what I think of as romanticized images from stage and screen, and as I look at it I remember the sound of her laughing. There's one more floor above this.

That pilgrimage again, but sometime before we reached that mountain range. We're camped out somewhere green. I'm walking through the camp with that woman leading the pilgrimage, and although it's her visions they're following, no one pays her any particular attention as we're walking around. We come to the top of a cliff with a long series of wooden stairs leading to the bottom, crossing back and forth. Far below, two of our people are fighting, sort of - a soldier and a man I recognize, it's clear she's training him. I wonder why he'd want to do that - he's really not suited to fighting. The soldier sees us watching them and they both stop.

Time skip over all those stairs; we get to the bottom, and they're both sprawled out on the ground. She's asking him to list the three things he's learned. He goes um, ah, "Give me a minute. I just had it." She does give him a few moments, and then she gives him this expectant look. He seems surprised she didn't just drop it. He says, "I'm finished," and laughs.

An enormous raven, three times the size of any I've seen, lands on a fence post nearby; then it's a very elegant woman leaning against that fence post instead. I'm thinking, that would have been much more convenient than walking down all those stairs.

Ritual: wtb 1am, woke 5:45am, wbtb about an hour, take supplements (piracetam, bacopa, choline, alpha-gpc, l-theanine), lay on back, doze off, turn to side, woke 8am to record dream.

DEILD: I half-wake from an unremarkable NLD and realize I can DEILD. As I transition I can distinctly hear a woman's voice speaking, though she wasn't saying anything memorable. After a while I hear a new voice a man responding, and figure this is a good sign, suggesting that the hynagogic state is deepening toward dream. As soon as I feel like I am fully transitioned, I get out of bed. I remember the task I had intended: the storm TOTM. I go outside, intending to summon it, but the dream does not yet feel stabilized and my surroundings become vague. I retransition and realize that there's no reason I should feel constrained by concepts like "inside" and "outside," and decide to summon the storm from right in my bedroom. I look up at the ceiling and it becomes transparent, so that I can see the sky overhead. It is half-lit, with faint stars and gauzy clouds: I will the clouds to thicken and darken.

After another spell of vagueness, maybe a retransition, I go back outside to see if there is evidence of a storm yet. It is working! There is a patch of very heavy dark clouds overhead. It it not yet a full-blown storm so I work on it a little more. I raise my hands and shout, "Wind!" I am modeling this on the scene from the film Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) where he conjures the clouds so it will get dark faster. I decide to add a little more panache: "WIND AND FIRE!" I yell, still gesticulating at the sky. The clouds are roiling and I do see patches of fire, so when it is sufficiently apocalyptic, I fly directly up into the cloudbank.

The effect is disappointing: I have no real sensory impressions apart from sight, and the visibility is very poor. It is hard to distinguish the greyness inside the clouds from the greyness of unformed dream, except that I notice that the fire has coalesced into vaguely anthropomorphic forms that resemble elementals or demons. Although they are distant and none moves to threaten me, I feel vaguely anxious and start singing to reassure myself. The dream destabilizes and I retransition.

I go outside again, and find myself on a slightly elevated walkway; just below is a middle-aged white guy who seems to be gardening. He looks up at me and says with an air of disappointment: "You can do better than this." I feel as though he is chastising me for summoning the storm, and feel a pang of guilt, although there is no rational basis for this. After entering a building, I look down and notice that I am carrying a phone. It is not a contemporary model but resembles those old Nokias with the small monochrome screens that can render text but not graphics. Distinctly legible on the screen is the word: "SmarKu," a mix of lower-case and capital letters as though it were abbreviated from something. The word intrigues me, so I ask:

"SmarKu, what are you?"

"A phone," it answers simply.

Well, duh. I try rephrasing my question, "I mean, what do you represent?"

"..."

Since the phone seems confused or reluctant to answer, I finally resort to a term I dislike, speaking forcefully for emphasis: "What do you symbolize?"

"A pimp and a whore," retorts the phone with an edge of sarcasm.

I can't help but laugh at the inexplicable rudeness of the reply. What is this, a dream version of Tourette's syndrome?

I retransition and go back outside, running across two gentlemen having a heated discussion. I find their conversation boring and don't make any particular effort to remember it, but this reminds me of the thread (I think it was last month's TOTM) where we were discussing the fact that it feels different to "think" something in a dream versus saying it "aloud," even though it is hard to conceptualize the difference. To test this principle, I comment inwardly on how dull their conversation is, and pay attention to how this manifests. I do not "hear" the words with my dream ears, nor do I seem to "speak" them in my dream voice, so it feels no different from thinking something in waking life. I walk over to them and think it directly in their presence, to see if they will respond: "How dully, sir!" (In retrospect it seems like an odd turn of phrase, but it felt natural at the time.) They do not react to me, so it still feels like a private thought. I decide to try a little experiment: I silently will one of the DCs to say these words aloud for me. Without a moment's hesitation, he pipes up to his companion: "How dully, sir!"

This was so successful that I'm encouraged to try again with the second guy. Mischievously, I select the same words that the SmarKu used earlier. Sure enough, the guy says out of nowhere, "A pimp and a whore." At this point I go right up to him and ask, "What do you mean by that?" I expect him to be confused or uncertain about why he said it, but instead he starts explaining himself. This is really unexpected: he is taking responsibility for the phrase as though saying it were his own idea! All I could think was... so DCs rely on dream logic? I... guess that makes sense.

There is a destabilization, and before my eyes I watch the environment fluctuate from brilliant light and clarity to hazy vagueness. I suspect this is due to my own lack of mental focus, slipping too close to wakefulness again, and I tell myself that I don't have to wake up if I don't want to. Back in my bedroom, I maintain dreamstate through a rough patch by singing again and focusing on sensual impressions. As I sing, it feels like my voice is joined by invisible others, singing with me in harmony. This reminds me of my lucid dare—from last year—which I've never quite completed to my satisfaction.

I go back outside, willing it to be stable. I frame my arms around empty air as though around an unseen person and dance, hoping the invisible owner of one of the voices will manifest. No such luck. I notice a DC standing nearby, a middle-aged black man, and ask him, "Have you seen an elf around here?"

"Yes," he replies. Okay, I realize I might have willed him to say that using my new trick, but if it conditions my expectations into manifesting the damn elf, it will have been worth it.

"Who?" I inquire further, a specific name in mind.

"Thranduil," he says promptly, just as I anticipated.

"Where is he?" I don't have an answer to this one, so I'm hoping he'll say something helpful.

He points behind me. "Right over there."

I turn and look, hoping my expectations are primed enough that he will be visible. Afraid not. As I squint into the distance, the man explains helpfully, "You can just barely see him, in the edge of the forest."

I still don't see him but I'll take his word for it. The man goes on, "If you hurry, you might be able to catch him. The best way is to go left up those stairs."

I follow his instructions, wondering I should summon a horse to cover the ground faster, but I don't want to add unnecessary complexity and figure that on horseback is not the best way to climb stairs anyway. The stairs are very rustic and appealing, constructed of irregularly cut slabs of old grey stone, with small plants growing out of the cracks, and a low stone wall on either side. They turn to the right and continue to ascend. I'm climbing as fast as I can and observe that either the steps are getting smaller or I'm getting bigger, because now I'm covering at least a dozen with each stride, but I'm still only halfway to the forest's edge when I wake up and sense that the dream state is unrecoverable.

I'm traveling with a woman who most recently has been climbing these giant stairs cut into the mountains, leading a very large group of people, guided by her visions and signs. Now she's reached an old shrine that's of great personal importance to her. But that's not what she was looking for - she thought her visions were guiding her to a place where all these people could be safe. Now it seems it was just something personal. She believes she's led them all this way for nothing.

I'm extremely frustrated by all this, because the place I've been trying to guide her to with those visions I've sent her is still further on - I wanted her to see this shrine first for personal reasons, because I like her and I thought she deserved to know this part of her past, but it's not our final destination. Unfortunately, the stairs end here; there's no easy path after this point. How am I going to convince her to keep going now that she's doubting the visions? I'm almost tempted to just suggest scouting ahead myself and then conveniently 'finding' the place - but I need her to be the one to discover it, not me. I'll think of something, but I need to talk to her privately, and there haven't been many opportunities for that on this pilgrimage.

Right now she's busy talking with a priest I dislike - I'm not fond of priests on general principle, but this one in particular irritates me. She's apologizing. She's saying she shouldn't have rejected the idea of divine guidance - maybe if she'd believed, she wouldn't have gotten them lost like this. The priest reassures her, saying, "You delivered what would not be prayerful."

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Still in that same mountain range, but this time I'm working separately from the main group, it's just me and a couple of her soldiers. I'm talking with a slave trader - he's got a group of people I've been looking for and I need him to release them. He says he can't possibly do that, they're an extremely sought-after species. He shows me a cage with a human man and woman instead, and a falcon that comes with the woman, and says that he'll give me one of them as a sign of good faith - he'll even trade me all three, the two humans and the falcon, if I'd be willing to give him one of my soldiers. He has a buyer who likes that specific shade of skin. Incredulous, I tell him this isn't a negotiation. He's going to release the people I came for, I'm not going to give him anything, and I don't care about his humans or whatever else he's selling.

But then he takes the hood off the human woman - white hair and a young face. I know her. I'm shocked, and she looks just as shocked to see me - I'd thought she was dead. Last time I saw her, she'd sacrificed me to her people's gods. It didn't work obviously, I can't die that way, but there was no way she could have known that. When my 'death' didn't stick, her people reacted very badly. I'd seen them holding a funeral for her later, but I'd been watching from a distance - they must have held the ceremony without a body. I'd just assumed they'd killed her. I'd liked her a great deal, sacrifice aside.

Hellblazer, I/Constantine had been working with this teenage girl in the previous scene; now she's gone alone to a hospital to see her kid brother. He's in a ward with a lot of beds, and he's kneeling up on the end of his bed to talk to her. He's saying, "Is it possible that Grace is only after Constantine?" Grace is a surname - the Grace in question is a middle-aged man. And when the kid says Constantine, 'uncle' is implied. "Because he's not exactly a... us anymore." 'Us' meaning a person, a human being. I'd made one deal too many. Which has made it possible for me to be summoned up and controlled, used as a tool - that's what they suspect Grace is after.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

After an unsuccessful night looking for blood, I have to rely on Elsa, a sort of servant. Last resort. We use transfusion tubes to draw out the blood, to avoid any unwanted side effects on her, and I alter her mind to make it pleasant for her. I compliment her on the quality, she's changed her diet since the last time we had to do this. I'm speaking German-accented English.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm climbing up a stairwell, climbing up through years. As I pass the platform that will lead to the 1990s, getting close to home, I hear voices up ahead. I come across a man and a woman leaning against the wall; the woman's saying, "No, it's 203. They changed the calendar - finally. I was starting to lose track."

Further up, another group having a conversation, talking about the cracks in the walls. A woman's saying, "They're glitching so bad a man could get in."

I reach my door, present day. But just beside my door, the cracks in the walls are so severe that they've formed a sort of second door - I think I could walk right through. The black sort of skittering motion that appears in all the cracks is more visible here. But the scene just before I entered the stairwell had involved accidentally intruding in a place where I shouldn't be, disrespectfully, and trying to make up for that. I decide against stepping through the cracks. I take the door to the present day.

I step out into what's meant to be an apartment where I live, distorted in a sort of cartoonish representation of hallucination, like you might see in an old music video; it seems to be underwater. Then my field of vision pulls back - now I'm looking at a screen containing an image of this room. It's labeled as a game preview. I'm aware that if I'd stepped through the cracks, the scene still wouldn't have lasted for much longer, since this is only a preview - but that's where the real storyline would begin.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I've taken my clockwork heart out of my chest to work on it. I have a mental association with the Snow Queen. I'm in my workshop, full of various clockwork devices, and I'm carrying on a conversation with my apprentice. The image changes to show the subject of our conversation - a bird whose flight over the desert is taking it over a pair of dark horses at the moment. I'm saying, "It doesn't matter if the bird is clockwork or flesh and blood." Either way, it'll fly the same repetitive pattern every year.

I was in a room. It seems like night. I was looking for someone or something. The room is inside a several-storey apartment. Not sure how many floors there were. It looks... old. Some parts were wooden while others were cemented. The furniture added to the "old" look because they look used. Dark green.

I ended up in a floor where a girl was sitting. There's something like a veranda in that area. I'm not sure how young or old she was. At times, it felt like she's young, like 12 years old, but she seems too "tall" even though she's sitting on a chair. I asked a question about the thing/person I'm looking for. She said something about not seeing it here. She also mentioned something about God. I made a snide remark/question about it, but I made it while I was "walking away." Not exactly walking "away," because I was facing her while walking down a stairs, and the railing is blocking our view of each other. She was looking at me, looking like she wants to say something as I disappeared down the stairs.

I was in Rob's place. I remember thinking about crystal and food.

At the McKittrick Hotel, I ran an errand for Hecate, and in return she's granting me access to a certain flight of stairs. I hand her written note to this effect to the doorman, and he removes the rope blocking off the stairs. He looks bored. He warns me that the things I'll see up there are just ghosts, so don't take any of it too seriously. I tell him I know. I'm still looking forward to seeing something new.

At the top of the stairs, everything is airy and bright, and there's the dead body of a soldier in dress uniform sitting against the railing that overlooks the ballroom, arms spread and head dangling forward in a way that reminds me of a scarecrow. His name's Jeremy. A woman in white walks up to him - there's something careless about her. Jeremy gets up from the railing, and they begin to dance through the rooms of the hotel. There's no music.

This one's from December 05, 2014:

On several planes, taking someone's bf back to her to Hawaii. Passed through my home city at one point and kept going anyway. Ate food samples in airport (everyone was selling food, like kiosks of food at every stop). The couple had a baby I think, and I knew them from a forum. The bf was supposed to be away temporarily (went to visit parents or something like that), but he decided to stay longer and just mess around. At one point he turned blind for some reason, and fell down the plane stairs. (Like the seating of the plane was like theatre seating). I ended up giving him a smoothie to fix him.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #260: The Prancing Pied Piper

A false awakening takes me downstairs where I putter around for a bit doing silly "chores" like moving chairs around. Then I head back upstairs, totally focused on having a lucid dream when I “return to bed”. Just so that I’ll get in the right mindset, I do a nose pinch reality check and oh hey, check it out, I’m already having a lucid dream! I hold the nose pinch and start leaping and prancing about, waving my other hand in the air. I sing about lucid dreaming while I do this.

I head into my youngest son R’s room, but instead of R, I find my 5-year-old son E sleeping on his bed. “Daddy, what are you doing?” he asks getting out of bed.

I keep singing, prancing, nose-pinching, and waving one arm. I sing, “Lucid dream, lucid dream, lucid dreeeeee-eeeeeeam!” E laughs and says, “Daddyyy!” I think about returning to the master bedroom in the hopes of finding Wife and enjoying some sexytime. But those plans fall through when E gets out of bed, and starts following me around, prancing the same way that I am.

I reflect on the joy of being lucid and this emotion takes me to a desire to hear beautiful music. (I’d chained these feelings together using Dreamer’s goal memory technique.) This is in pursuit of Jenkees’ dare to do cool stuff to a lucid orchestral soundtrack. E and I go prancing into the master bedroom as I realize that I need to stop singing if I’m going to get a new soundtrack.

The lights are on in the bedroom and instead of me or Wife, my friend KS is lying in bed next to some blonde guy with surfer hair. KS gets out of bed and rubs her eyes like it’s the morning. I ignore her and surfer guy, instead phasing my face through the shutters so I can look out into the night. I start creating an orchestral soundtrack in my head.

It sounds nice, but I realize that I’m forcing every note manually and composing it as an act of will. I want it to emerge organically instead. Maybe if I go do something outside. I phase through the window and leap out into the night with a yell. As I’m preparing to take flight, the dream ends.

A little background: earlier today, Dreamer and I were having a conversation where she explained that since her LD rate has dipped a little in the last couple of months, she feels hesitant and less confident about giving advice to others than she once did. This inspired me to remind her how excellent her techniques are!

A few minutes before falling asleep for an afternoon nap today, I quickly used the goal memory and lucidity induction technique Dreamer employed for amazing lucid dreams like this, this, this, this, this, this, this, this, and this. (Seriously, if you haven’t read these dreams of hers, they’re literally some of the best LD work I've ever seen!) Please don’t compare my very modest goals to these.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #258: Exemplar

I’m walking past a bus circle at night, and as I’m passing under an awning, I feel this strong desire to have a lucid dream, and lucidity begins immediately.

The doorway is either open air or nearly-transparent glass and now I’m standing in a high-ceilinged entranceway to a fancy house. A pair of staircases frame the room, one on the left and one on the right. A pair of women in their late 20s are standing in the middle of the room talking, each of them wearing these sort of Christmas-y looking sweaters.

“This is a lucid dream!” I announce both to them and to myself. They turn toward me, curious and interested.

I remember using Dreamer’s technique to tie the excitement of lucidity to another feeling: gratitude. (Gratitude because I know that if I’m lucid, it means that the technique worked!) Now I remember what my next step was. I turn behind me, addressing Dreamer. I don’t see her right away, but get this sense that she’s nearby. It doesn’t really matter whether she’s physically present in the dream, so I continue.

I say something along the lines of “[Dreamer], the fact that I’m here proves that you’re awesome.” I start to say something about how I’m here in a lucid dream thanks to her technique, but I’m losing the dream just a bit. I catch sight of a darkened room up ahead lit by a pair of tall, flickering candlesticks before the dream ends.

I got out the main point of what I was trying to say, but I’d intended to add something like: “Always remember how good you are at helping people. This lucid dream only exists thanks to your advice!”

non-dream dream lucid

Had that nap, practiced SSILD cycles, had a really vivid dream that could've turned into a LD if I'da noticed a few things.
Went to bed around 8:30 or so, woke up around 11:45 or so?



Dream fragments:
Looking at Twitch, Twitch not working, Looking at Youtube, youtube kinda works and I learned of a gaming marathon. This was being advertised by some guy who had >1m subs on youtube. I think this is what I was doing on the airplane.

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The Plane Crash
Lucid:no
Recall rating: 9

I'm in some huge airliner. I don't even know how I got here.
I'm on my laptop though. Pretty soon after I need to go to the bathroom, so I start looking around.
Eventually I find the area where they do laundry (I'm not sure they do laundry on planes, but they do here). There's some DC with me, and we start looking at these washing machines.

I'm in a medium sized white room with pinkish coloring. There's two rather large white machines in front of me with green pipes heading into them. Looking at the pipes I notice a yellow ring around the green pipe. The green pipe is also really wrinkled, as if it's just a green cloth covering it.

I look at it whirr for a few minutes before wondering how the machines are loaded. I then notice a passageway around the machines. I walk towards it, noticing that the passageway has quite a few steps in it. The floor at the bottom is a bit more dank than above. I then notice the fronts of the machines, which looked a gigantic front-load washer and dryer. I notice they both have windows.

I look through the windows, and next thing I know I'm on a huge white disk with a gap near the edges. I look around and above are some twisting pipes.
Next thing I know after that I'm looking at the machines again, and some of the backs are gone, revealing a huge window where you can see a huge tank of water with clothes in it. It's actually pretty blue water and you can see out the window the other side through it.

The DC that was there told me that it could withstand the plane doing loops without any malfunctions.

After that, I walk out, and I look around. It's like a mix between a house and an airplane. Drywall walls and ceiling bits, but it's obviously a plane! I want to get to the staff area cause I didn't know how I got here. So I find the stairs to the next floor, near a row of seats. The stairs have the same dry walls (with a window on the landing), and gray carpet floors.

All of a sudden I hear a loud sequence of beeps from the PA system. It was 5 repeats of a 5 beep sequence. After that it said "Please return to your seats and fasten yourselves in. This thread has been hidden from view." in a deep woman's voice, almost robotic though.

I immediately start running back towards the bathroom/laundry room. Once I get there I hesitate going in because the machines will be all over the place.

So now I'm in the corner between the stairs and the laundry/bath entrance. That's when I hear a muffled explosion from somewhere in the plane, and feel a hard rumble. I bolt for the stairs, but the plane starts rotating slowly (almost ominously) and before long those stairs aren't stairs anymore.

I grab hold of the railing of the stairs. I then look out a window while holding on (I guess I changed position?) and I can't see anything, just sky. Before long though I see an airfield start rotating into view. You can also see some woods surrounding it. We're really up high above the air strip so I don't know how they'd land it. At this point it's quite obvious that we're out of control, and if we're not lucky we're smashing into that airfield.

We continue rotating, now starting to dive while rotating, and we can see the field in more detail. There's a black airstrip with gray markings. I have loads of anxiety from this, quite understandably. I was breathing quite heavily. Miraculously the pilot manages to stop the rotating and begins to level the plane out, but there's too much vertical velocity and we smash into the airfield.

At this point, everything freezes, goes white, and then I wake up, thrusting my eyelids open with quite a bit of force.

I notice I've not moved once, so I try to recall some details about the dream, and then I try to DEILD. Unfortunately it doesn't work as I'd opened my eyes already.

I give up and start writing this.

-----------------

"beepbeepbeepbeepbeep, beepbeepbeepbeepbeep, beepbeepbeepbeepbeep, beepbeepbeepbeepbeep, beepbeepbeepbeepbeep, Please return to your seats and fasten yourselves in. This thread has been hidden from view."

non-dream dream lucid

Very first thing I would like to mention is that these dreams happened the morning of the 12th of November.

So I fixed my alarm. It now works.
Also made sure to have some food before bed, which helped quite a bit.

Had quite a few dreams as a result.
----------------------------
CRT Gas dream
Lucid: no
Recall score: 7 (doesn't appear like it from THIS dj but it was)

So I'm in my house, and OTG is playing on a black and white TV screen sitting on a table.
I'm trying to fix another TV, but a DC comes up to me and says that the CRTs are filled with a deadly gas! Don't break it!

Later on, I look on another TV screen showing a hallway in the building I'm in, and you can see dust in the air! This hallway was filled with the gas!

That's all I can remember now.
----------------------------
Getting TVs
Lucid: no
Fragmented: no
Recall: 8
TGMG: no
I'm at a school, outside. There's a bunch of woods surrounding us, and it was dark out. Not entirely dark, but as if it was storming really bad or there was gonna be a tornado or something.

The school was similar to the primary school I used to go to.
Very brown, with brick walls. Glass windows for each room.
I go inside, and I'm in the hallway.

Hallway has tiled floors, and white walls. Lots of displays on them as well. I go right, and walk for quite a ways. Eventually the hallway walls turn into brownish red bricks as I get closed to the end. I then get to the library. I don't remember the library except going inside and looking out the window. I see the smudges on the glass, and a parking lot with loads of buses outside.
I get a TV on a cart and walk out with it. I eventually get to one room, and I look through the window. I see someone else looking out the window. They're naked though. I quickly turn away.

Later on I'm flying over the school, and I can see everything as if the roof was ripped off.
I wake up soon after.

A terrifying terrorist had come to our town and had hidden himself in the basement of a church. My cousin and I decided to go see if we could find him.

We found the door to the church basement easily enough. But inside it was pitch black. I switched on my flashlight. What I saw was a large room, sort of like a stairwell, with concrete stairs going down the sides of the walls. I shown my light over the railing on the side to see if I could see the bottom. I couldn't.

We tentatively began walking down. We got to a landing, and there was a rotting alien corpse. Suddenly we heard a noise and hid behind it. It echoed through the stairs. We listened and waited for a long time but nothing showed itself. Then we gave up and went back up to the main floor.

Then all the children that attended the church banded together. (The group included my sister, who was suddenly quite obese.) They numbered about fifty. They vowed to all the grown ups that they would descend the stairs, reach the bottom, find the horrible man and destroy him. The adults pleaded with them not to go, but they would not listen. So one day they marched through the door, and we listened on the other side to the muffled echoes of their feet descending the stairs. They never came back up.

14.10.2014

Royal Building Crumbles & Encountering the Minotaur (DILD)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

This dream was most likely a continuation of one before, but because I put off on the recall for quite some time, I can’t remember it to exact detail. Though, I honestly felt the rest of the prior dream was necessary, as the plot itself seemed inconsistent, and would require too much speculation to see if there were any underlying reasons involved.

Judging by how I felt within the dream, I presumed it was a matter of escaping, and not looking back in fear of everything behind me being crumbled; in fear of being part of the destruction as well.

I’m running with a female that’s just about a few inches shorter than me, and has a visage and body composition of someone who is Asian. She reminded me of someone I know from work for some reason, though I felt this was another dream character that takes the form of multiple Asian females, and has a distinct “signature” if you will of someone I met in my dreams a long time ago.

But it didn’t matter on validating who’s who, so I focus more on keeping my feet active, and dodging whatever debris might come by. The environment itself is very spacious, and associating patches of recall I have of the previous dream, this area seemed to be have been a fanciful place to reside and communicate with others, mostly for exquisite banquets and luxurious entertainment most likely. But it also had some element of scholarly spirit as well, so maybe it had served doubly for that.

The walls consist of a faded maroon color diluted with other colors similar to it in the color spectrum; the roof consisted of a white and slightly milky vanilla color with a natural splattering of dust and age, and the flooring itself had a simple vanilla tile formatting.

I can’t make out the outfit I’m wearing in particular, but I’m presume it was fairly basic as it didn’t have the level of eye-candy, I guess. I do know that my companion I’m escaping with is wearing a basic red shirt and blue jeans, which seems odd for us considering the formal implications of the area we’re in right now. So I’m presuming that if she was wearing something casual than formal, I probably was wearing a black shirt and faded black jeans.

We’re running up some stairs that are probably 10 feet in width, and the grandiose composition of the building makes me wonder if we’ll ever get out of here. And if we’re going up inside of down as I would naturally imply an escape would be, it became more confusing, but going up was the only way we could go right now; otherwise, we’d just be dead corpses under heavy debris.

I can feel the vibrating and earth-quake-esque sensations all around by body, along with the random shifts in environmental movements. I stayed mostly on the right side of the curved stairs to get a wider view of the left just in case something weird happens, like, I don’t know, a Minotaur that should come out of nowhere trying to kill us by using the environment.

And the more I observe the environment, the setting seems to resemble interiors of Alcamoth in Xenoblade Chronicles. And with more bits of recall from the previous dream snapping back to my awareness, I do recall seeing several High Entia dream characters floating around somewhere.

They were like the image above, albeit paler, and seemed to have no colors applied to their existence; like a fading white color overlay.


At some point, to the left of us, a big hole is formed, and a giant Minotaur comes out of nowhere.

He has black hair, and his body is brown with a subtle hint of burnt orange, and he has glowing yellow eyes as well. His loin cloth is either black or brown, and he looks like he’s hell-bent to kill us. He immediately uses his hands to destroy part of the stairs we’re on, and when this occurs, everything suddenly changes. There’s too many things going on at once, and I am both horrified and bothered on what’s going on.

I can’t even tell if the female by me exists anymore, and I presumed she fell down into the seemingly bottomless pit by now. I do know that I’m still alive in the dream, and I was preparing to encounter the Minotaur. But I can’t recall what happens next, other than standing on top of the first apex of the stair set that was broken.