Morning of November 14, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,958-02. Reading time (optimized): 3 min. Readability score: 58. In a previous dream including my conscious self’s identity and to some extent in real life, I had been building a more extensive paradigm understructure for my online dream journal as a way to make it more idiot-proof, despite there being virtually no evidence that mainstream humanity has any understanding of the induction, dreaming, and waking processes. I had been focusing on “personifications of” while branching into more specific factors of vestibular system correlation, nexus simulacrums, and melatonin mediation. During this time, my dream self loses most of its present waking life identity while still holding a subliminal awareness of concurrent physicality and a minimal degree of lucid dream state awareness to where only a sliver of my conscious self’s identity remains extant; just enough to deliberately enter the role of another denizen to experiment with the dream space. The backstory of an upcoming wedding comes to the forefront. It is a transpersonal thread adjacent to the virtual foreshore. There is the sighting of an unknown groom of about twenty-five in my incorporeal glimpse. I possess the body of a man who is about eighty years old to sustain his role in attaining a sacred stick from a secret area for the unknown young groom (who remains in another part of town), maintaining faith that any other sentient presence in the dream space will not detect me as an imposter. The interconsciousness borrows pieces of a setting that I had not lived in real life for years, making sure it is incorrect in design so that it is not mistaken for having waking life relevance or the fallacy of symbolism that the unintelligent pursue. I am at an erroneous version of the Stadcor Street house in Brisbane. This version of the house has an enclosed wooden back porch, which expands over the area that the utility room was in real life (though the utility room was at ground level). Another male, unknown, about the age of the man whose body I possess, is with me, remaining on my left (dream attention orientation, as I sleep on my left side). I do not see the house as a place of significance, and my dream self only vaguely realizes that it is an illusory model of a place I had once lived. There is little of my conscious self identity that remains extant. We are to meet with a man who is over a hundred years old, known only as General. Another man who is about a hundred years old arrives first. The four of us briefly appraise each other. I marvel at how wrinkled their faces are. I nod to General, addressing him solely and lightly with “General.” He does not seem to suspect I am not the old man. I feel comfortable in my fictitious role. He had stepped from a back room of the house, perhaps the kitchen in assuming that this fake house was somewhat like the original. The other man had come in from outside. My dream self’s attention does not focus on the porch setting as the nexus within liminal space; that virtual bridge which I had entered thousands of times in previous dreams since early childhood. Despite “General” being a military association with the preconscious and interconsciousness simulacra, I do not anticipate dominance by their presence. We go out into the backyard. It seems to be late morning. I am holding a large irregular stick in my left hand. We all have walking sticks, but the groom’s sacred stick is just beyond the backyard in a cluster of trees. In reality, this would have been our neighbor’s backyard, which was divided from ours by a small fence. As I am walking, the other end of my stick, still being used with my left hand, somehow gets stuck between two small cages (the bottom of one and the top of the other). I am not sure if they contain any animals. A big cloth is covering them. It takes me a few minutes to pull it out. The man who had been with me, the first one, seems slightly annoyed and moves to help me, but the stick is already out. Liminal awareness had established that I was sleeping on my left arm in an uncomfortable position, which became a factor of my dream’s scenario, altering its potential. My dream self absentmindedly points this out, with the stick, where my essence is, beneath the cloth (bed sheet) and asleep, my waking self “caged” within the virtual lattice of physicality.
Night of September 22, 2018. Saturday. Reading time: 1 min 19 sec. Readability score: 66. I enter a typical sustained “preconscious as intruder” scenario within a dual dream. It is part of an atypical late evening nap. I am aware of where I am in bed, but not lucid. My youngest son is in the lounge room. An unfamiliar black boy (interconsciousness avatar of this dream) of about twelve is also present to his left, closer to the west window. They are watching television. An unknown man (preconscious avatar) is standing just outside the window (though I never see him). He is talking continuously. He seems to be bullying everyone in the lounge room as I watch from bed. The curtain covers much of the window, though not all of it. The boys move the curtain down more behind the bureau, and the man makes sarcastic comments about the act. I vaguely expect him to break the window, but there is no violence. Meanwhile, parts of another dream are unfolding. It is about a stick that ends up in various machines. Someone pulls a stick that was somehow stuck into the face of a DVD player (implied to be about where my wardrobe is, though the setting is ambiguous bilocation). When someone unknown pulls the stick out, the inside of the DVD player seems organic, with the essence of the inside of a human body. There is talk about the stick causing malfunctions in computers in part of a “Star Trek: Voyager” scenario. Robert Picardo’s head is atop a stack of motherboards in our kitchen and cheerfully looking at Tom Paris, who seems annoyed and puzzled. It seems the motherboards will eventually fuse and come together to form a human body. The last scene is my dream self trying to coalesce my thinking skills to become more aware, causing me to wake in this case. (I typically use reading text and technology features to augment dream self awareness, but I also used coins to do so in childhood.) Robert Picardo as my emerging consciousness avatar is pretty funny.
Date of Dream: SUN 14 MAY - 2017 One Dream Combat Championship Challenger: DEFEATED!!! There are now 6 challengers remaining in this round... Do you and Dreamy WB have what it takes to get to them in time and reign victorious? Dream No. 113 - Stick Strife Lucid Dream 6 Although I've forgotten exactly how I became lucid, I do remember that there was a change of awareness in me. I was now consciously aware that I could change some aspects of my dream. I was in my house, in the front room, when I said to myself, “I want to find the area and fight that pot plant now”. That's when the dream camera shifted over to an image of a bowl with fuzzy, tangled vines in it, almost like very thick strands of knotted hair... But that's not what I was facing. The dream camera then went back to the front room, which claimed to be my arena, although it didn't look like an arena in any way. There was now a stick laying on the floor, just laying there like a normal stick in a backyard would. The only special feature about this stick was its two, long-shaped black eyes on the top. I thought that to defeat the stick, I'd break bits off it until it came to nothing. The only problem is, every time I'd break the stick for the first time, it's “head” would keep “regenerating”! At the same time, my mum was sitting on the couch and she was trying to tell me what I should do but then she was also distracting me. It's like the dream was using her to break me out of my lucidity and the pot plant (stick) task at hand. I told her I knew what I was doing and so she eventually stopped and minded her own business. I was frustrated and frightened because I was still breaking the stick for the first time and it was still growing back. And so I yell out, “Dreamy WB! What's going on here? Do something!”. In this dream, Dreamy WB wasn't physically there but rather, she was an invisible force. A subconscious message came to me that I had 30 seconds to break down as much of the stick as possible. In the dream, I found myself counting out loud to 30 and when I hit 30, the stick became rigid again. So the stick was about ¾ way broken when it decided it would now “attack” me. The dream camera had showed a close-up of my eye and these was now a toothpick going vertically up it, like someone trying to keep you awake. The phenomenon was that the stick had put the toothpick there to cause a lump on the outer socket, intentionally causing injury. So I was in no condition to handle the stick. The dream somehow subconsciously suggested to get Dreamy WB and that she would place her finger on the lump to heal it. Once that idea was expressed, I had some sort of warm, fuzzy feeling surrounding me. I noticed that the lump had disappeared and so I continue to handle that stick. I then thought to myself, “You are going to pay dearly”. I noticed I had control of my 4 elements. I used fire on the stick but that did nothing. Earth was next and that didn't do anything either. Electricity was the third try but had no effect. Last of all was ice and that's what ended the life of the stick, making it shrivel up and shatter. Surprisingly, that's the only dream I remember from that night. There will be a "Behind The Scenes" entry for this dream.
I seriously wonder what is up with my brain sometimes. Some long and very dull dream about some activity night going on at my dorm room. Most of it already slipped through my memory anyway. Skip. Spoiler for Proceed at your own risk: I was back at my old high school, having the classic 'class that I forgot dream'. I was at the school after hours though, so everybody had left and I was walking down the halls alone. I come across one of the school janitors on my way out. But he doesn't look like one of the school janitors. He's a black man, probably about 60. Very small and skinny with a thin beard and big round eyes. And he's wearing these formal British clothes with a scarf and what not, all in this obnoxious brownish-orange color. He starts asking me questions, but some of them seem a little off. He then takes me to show me his greatest secret. He walks me over to the old trophy case and opens a secret door to a back room that I didn't know existed. This was the weird part. He has a huge secret room, right next to where the principals office was. And the entire wall of the room, every inch of it is covered in framed photographs of erect penises. All of the photos had been taken from the same angle. The man gestures to the center of the wall where there is a photograph of a huge penis. He says it is his and that he has the biggest one out of anyone he as photographed. He was literally the winner of a dick measuring contest. There is also a duplicate of the trophy case along each side wall of the room. Both trophy cases were filled with adult penis toys. The man keeps giving me this really creepy look where he smiles and his eyes seem to bug out of his head. His teeth look fake. I woke up. It was the middle of the night. I can recall in being what felt like my cousin's sub. I was walking down the street. I had become partially lucid. ... My recall is more than a little patchy but I can recall at one point, I went inside of a house. The first room had a bunch of doors in it. There is also a bed and a dresser. A small piece of wallpaper peeled off from between two doors, entirely by itself. The wallpaper then folded itself into a diaper. Parts of stretched out to become small legs and part of it ripped to become a mouth. Oh yeah, and because it was a diaper, it was full with crap that came out of nowhere. It had basically become this little monster thing that I wound up fighting. The diaper had some connection to the house. Like the family that lived there had a baby and they made diapers out of wallpaper or something. So we ended up having the worlds longest fight. I held the upper hand being... well a human and not a diaper. I can't recall the fight play-by-play but there was a part where I was whacking it with a big stick that I found under a bed that was in the room. There was a part where the diaper climbed onto the ceiling and tried to jump down on top of me. There was even a part where I used firebending and the 'Fus roh dah' shout from Skyrim to blast it into a corner. Eventually for whatever reason, the diaper monster became a squirrel. At this point I stopped fighting it and turned to walk back outside, only to find that the door that had led me into this random room led back out into my bedroom. I looked outside. The weather was cold and grey. A rumble of thunder was heard in the distance. For whatever reason I decided I wanted to try flying. I opened the window, forced out the screen. I then did a last-minute stabilization by rubbing my hands together, and saying 'I'm dreaming!' I then jumped out the window, and fell like a rock into the bush below my window. Then I suddenly thought "What if this is real life, and I just jumped out of the window in real life?!" I did a nose pinch. I could breathe. "Wait..." I said to myself. I forget what indicates being in a dream. Being able to breathe or not being able to breathe? Because I can most defiantly breathe." I then remember, being able to breathe means you are dreaming. For a few moments I managed to anchor myself on the cold wind that was blowing in the dream. I start to become very lucid when I lose the dream. FA in my college dorm room. I have peed in the bed. I get up and start changing out of my clothes. FA in my home bedroom. I have peed in the bed here as well. I do a reality check and become lucid momentarily lucid before FAing once more. FA. Something to do with the Simpsons of all things. Bart is buying these special schoolbooks that come with cereal. Supposedly these were supposed to help improve his grades because if you read the books while eating the cereal, you remember them better. Bart his happy because the cereal is dinosaur shapes. I wake up into WL. Reality check and fortunately, I have not wet the bed.
Fantastic dream this morning! I’m SO glad I was able to finish it. I think this dream came straight from my subconscious. It concerns something I’ve been working on in my personal life, and this dream is sort of like my graduation, I’d say! I dreamed that I was back at home with my parents and brother. The house was different than it really is, something like three stories. I was there on the sly to retrieve something (though I don’t know what it was) and get out unseen. My brother’s window was open, but I couldn’t get to it without being seen, so I decided to hide in the thickets under the pine trees and wait until nightfall. For some reason, my parents decided to walk around outside. I tried to stay hidden as best I could. I thought about jumping the fence, but there was no way I could do that without drawing attention to myself. So I kept still. Eventually, they found me anyway. (Side note: I do not have a good relationship with my family, in fact I don’t have one at all.) My dad was carrying some kind of stick, maybe a walking stick. Since I was bent down hiding in the bushes, my dad jabbed me in the back with the stick and pushed me face down on the ground like an intruder. It hurt. So I jumped up and decided to make a run for it. By this time, my mother had picked up a stick tried to swordfight me with it. I reached and grabbed a stick of my own and fought back. We parried for awhile, but I was easily able to overcome the weak fight she put up. I ran past her and jumped in my brother’s window. He was not in his room, but I found the object (a small silver thing) I was looking for and ran up the stairs to my parents’ room on the third floor (in the waking world it’s all one floor). I opened their bedroom window which faced the tops of the pine trees and thought about jumping into a pine, which my cat did one time, but then I remembered I could fly! So I stepped onto the window frame and jumped! I was flying! I flew right over the pine trees circled around flying from the backyard to the front and then down the road. I was careful to keep a good altitude. Fortunately that didn’t seem too hard. I was soaring over treetops and electrical lines. It was wonderful and beautiful! I could see birds and other animals. The clouds were fluffy and pink. The sun was shining. It was late afternoon. And I was thinking as I left my family, “They didn’t even know I could fly!” I love flying; it feels so good!
In our backyard, we have an old sandbox from when I was a kid. I'm 16 now and I don't use it anymore. So this spring my mother and I decided to grow potatoes and onions in there, since those plants like sandy soil. Fragment- I went into my old sandbox and everything had grown a lot. The plants were far from mature, but they were certainly a lot bigger than they were now. I took one out of the ground and saw that there were several peanut-sized potatoes dangling from the roots. I then tried to put the plant back into the ground but for some reason it was a real hassle. Fragment-I was out in my yard holding a curved stick. I was in my yard swinging it around like it was a Katana. I was perhaps bored or a little angry. I just hacked away at imaginary foes for a short while.
Updated 08-08-2014 at 05:47 PM by 53527
I slept over at my cousin's house last night. I can remember having several dreams last night, but my cousin woke me up by screaming and jumping around so all that I was able to recall was this: I was in my front yard. It was obviously summertime, because everything was green and the trees had leaves on them. There was this guy. I can't remember very many details but I think that he was very short and had a beard. He told me about this giant wasp that I had to fight or something. He told me that I should not kill it or let it sting me, just fight it. The next thing I knew I was running though my yard and there was a giant wasp chasing me. I can remember it having bright red stingers and a yellow-and black striped body. It was about 2-3 inches long. At first all i could do was blow it away. I seemed to have a really strong breath that could not only blow the wasp away, but it would create winds that were blowing some of the leaves off of trees and stuff. Eventually I picked up a big stick and stated whacking the wasp with it. I didn't want to touch the wasp with my hands otherwise it might sting me. My plan was to whack it and stun it so i could get away. I kept whacking it every time it came close but eventually I missed and it landed on my neck and stung me. I felt a slow, aching pain spreading from my neck and I woke up. I suppose this dream sort of goes in with being in a park/forest as a dream sign.
So, I had my first lucid in over a year on my second DV anniversary! Excellent timing, brain! I remember looking at my hand. I counted it over twice. On the first time, I had six fingers. The second, my fingers had weird 'half fingers" in between them. Very obvious signs of a dream! In a very poor attempt to stabilize and increase the vividity of my dream, I felt the texture of my mother's laptop in front of me. This didn't actually do anything to help that. I should have just looked around carefully and taken in my surroundings. At this point, I get up from where I was sitting and decide to try and hover. I get up from the couch in m living room and start to jump as hard as possible. I was trying to jump to a degree that would make me "stick" in the air and hover like that. It didn't work AT ALL. I woke up at this point.
Chapstick makers (FRAG) was part of chap stick maker killed tons of animals had animals tested on had tons of strange drugs around make from animals and stuff the butcher house was giant silo with blood dripping out the top one time i see a drug that looks weird scary one of my friends does it i walk up behind them inhale can't stand, fall laughing vision fragments into odd pixels friend passes me and hits me on the back of the head
I had a lucid last night, it might have ranked among my top ten best lucids. Enjoy. :3 I was in the 8th grade hall of my school, having a conversation with a friend about, ironically, lucid dreaming. The dismissal bell had rung; everybody, in colorful clothes, was heading downstairs via the double staircase and to the door beside of it. My friend departed, and I didn't pay attention to where he was going, but by the looks of it, he was going to fall down the stairs. I was shortly outside, walking on the path to the bus loop that went along the mostly glass side of the school. Somewhere along the way I met another friend, distinguishable from his ethnicity and his green coat. Also, along the way, I became lucid. I continued walking, to prevent myself from getting too excited. I marveled at how real everything was, everything was so accurate. I took this path every day for two years, and I'm still walking it this year, but I was still very impressed. Even the ditch that had been recently filled in, only this week, was accurate. The only flaws were a giant dollar weed growing next to the filled in ditch, and the lack of chalk paintings beneath my feat. I was now on the asphalt road to the bus loop. Garbage trucks and other kinds of large trucks parked here. The light dimmed, mist seeped in around the sides of of the building and the surrounding forest. I just went along with it. My initial lucidity is usually followed by some sort of event that seemed to try to knock me back into non lucidity, usually I give in. Not this time. "He's coming," I heard somebody whisper. Sound's just about right, it always seems to be a DC trying to confront me. The basket ball court, a way's away, expanded to the size of a football field, and I was on top of it. The mist turned into a dark gray fog. I saw a dash at the fog's edge, chasing somebody. It was really fast, like a ninja. According the the blur, the attacker was white with blonde hair, and he throws his arms back and leans forward at he runs. I run around aimlessly, hoping for a sigh of the dream character. While running, I stuck a hand out and barely caught a pen, being thrown like a knife, from hitting another DC on the field. I smirked and said something incoherent, as it was hard to focus. I hadn't come derailed at all from the dream; concentration was just a little rough. I ran in pursuit of the attacker. At some point, I stumbled, and as I caught my self from the fall, a rather late idea emerged; I should stabilize the dream! (Author's note: If you're one of those people who like music while reading about fights, I'd recommend this.) "Anchor dream," I managed to blurt out. The dream immediately stabilized by at least five times. It had already been realistic; but it was like I was playing a video game, now I was actually there. I noticed after stabilized that my vision was about to black out before. I suppose I caught my fall more ways than one. A swift force dropped me to the ground and rolled me over, and the attacker was standing on top of me, a short, pointed stick pulled back in his left hand, and a dragon shaped kazoo held less then a foot from my face in his right. Perfect. I moved the kazoo aside with a forearm, feeling it's jagged wooden texture, the feelings of the spikes on the dragon kazoo were that of the dull edge of a wooden cube. The attacker, no older that thirteen, thrust his stick forward, towards my chest. As I intercepted, I noticed from the feeling of his momentum that he was only applying brute force and no technique other than a few fancy stances. Many principles of waking life combat are not present in lucid dreaming, needless to say. But I could name a few. The dream character I was fighting was fast, but within limit. I kept his arms away from his center so he lacked protection and so he would take longer to recover. I disarmed him from his stick by drawing a circle with his wrist, and I made it burst into flames by setting my hand on fire. I reached out towards him with my flaming hand and he scampered back ten feet, and I stood up. The dream transitioned to a bedroom, lit by a window. The ceiling was slanted, it was part of the roof. The boy who attacked me was sitting in a corner for reason, and I made him vanish on a whim. I contemplated on flying through the window, wondering if I would fit. The corners of my vision began fading quickly. My single attempt to re-stabilize the dream failed, and I blacked out into the insides of my eyelids, which I opened. I did a reality check using the digital clock on my dresser. I was awake. But then I fell asleep again, and I can recall some dream about a squad of seven jet fighters that ended sadly with a nuke and them all being incinerated. So that was cool.
Updated 09-23-2011 at 08:30 PM by 49493
BiscuitHappyz's Dream More fragments last night. Sorry about that. But I do have a fun little extra... Fragment #1: I had a dream that about three of my middle school friends were in, and we were walking through the sunny and not very dense pine forest outside of my elementary school. One, let's call him Yarblarblar, was yanking on my hair, and it stung a bit. "Stop that, please," I say. Yarblarblar laughs and continues anyway. "Stop," I said after a while of him tugging, and more assertive this time. Yarblarblar thinks this is hysterical, but ceases for the time being. I could tell he was going to do it again, though. I saw a large stick wedged into the ground near a towering pine tree, and I got an idea. I walked slowly, waiting for Yarblarblar to resume pulling. Once he did, I pulled the stick out of the ground with my left hand, as though it was a lighter version of the Excaliber. I swung it at his ribcage, and it narrowly passed through his block. It smacked him within three seconds of when I withdrew the stick from the ground. And he hunched over, clutching his rib. "Owww," He moaned. "Whoops," I said, sincerely. "Didn't mean to hit that hard, mate. You okay?" Fragment #2: I was playing a Minecraft 1.8.2 patch, and was slaughtering a pack of pigs. I was in a bright green plain surrounded by rainforest. So yeah. Pirate version: I had a dream that about three o' me middle school buckos were in, and we were walkin' through t' sunny and not very dense pine forest outside o' me elementary school. One, let's call him Squid-Brained Scallywag, was yankin' on me hair, and it stung a bit. "Oi, stop that, matey, if ye will," Says I. Squid-Brained Scallywag laughs and continues anyway. "Avast! Ye should stop now, bucko, if ye know what's good for ye." I said after a while o' him tuggin', and more assertive this time. Squid-Brained Scallywag thinks this be hysterical, but quits for t' time bein'. Avast, I could tell he was goin' t' do it again. I saw a big arse stick wedged into t' ground near a big arse pine, and I got an idea. I walked slowly, waitin' for Squid-Brained Scallywag t' go back a pullin'. Once he did, I pulled t' stick out o' t' ground with me port hand, like it were a lighter version o' Black beard's cutlass. I swung it at his middle, and it closely sailed through his arms. It smacked the fool in three seconds from o' when I withdrew t' stick from t' ground. And he hunched over, clutchin' his rib. "Owww," Says he. "Yarrr," I said, sincerely. "Get yerself out o' t' bung hole, mate. You okay?" Fragment #2: I be playing Minecraft 1.8.2 patch, and was escortin' a crew o' pig to Davy Jones' Locker. I was in a bright green flatland surrounded by rainforest. Aye. Arrr, happy yap like a man o' t' seas day to ye! EDIT: This managed to take a spot on the Lucid Inquirer, for Dream Journal Weekly! Thanks for choosing it!
Updated 09-24-2011 at 04:40 PM by 49493
BiscuitHappyz's Dream More fragments last night. Sorry about that. But I do have a fun little extra... Fragment #1: I had a dream that about three of my middle school friends were in, and we were walking through the sunny and not very dense pine forest outside of my elementary school. One, let's call him Yarblarblar, was yanking on my hair, and it stung a bit. "Stop that, please," I say. Yarblarblar laughs and continues anyway. "Stop," I said after a while of him tugging, and more assertive this time. Yarblarblar thinks this is hysterical, but ceases for the time being. I could tell he was going to do it again, though. I saw a large stick wedged into the ground near a towering pine tree, and I got an idea. I walked slowly, waiting for Yarblarblar to resume pulling. Once he did, I pulled the stick out of the ground with my left hand, as though it was a lighter version of the Excaliber. I swung it at his ribcage, and it narrowly passed through his block. It smacked him within three seconds of when I withdrew the stick from the ground. And he hunched over, clutching his rib. "Owww," He moaned. "Whoops," I said, sincerely. "Didn't mean to hit that hard, mate. You okay?" Fragment #2: I was playing a Minecraft 1.8.2 patch, and was slaughtering a pack of pigs. I was in a bright green plain surrounded by rainforest. So yeah. Pirate version: I had a dream that about three o' me middle school buckos were in, and we were walkin' through t' sunny and not very dense pine forest outside o' me elementary school. One, let's call him Squid-Brained Scallywag, was yankin' on me hair, and it stung a bit. "Oi, stop that, matey, if ye will," Says I. Squid-Brained Scallywag laughs and continues anyway. "Avast! Ye should stop now, bucko, if ye know what's good for ye." I said after a while o' him tuggin', and more assertive this time. Yarblarblar thinks this be hysterical, but quits for t' time bein'. Avast, I could tell he was goin' t' do it again. I saw a big arse stick wedged into t' ground near a big arse pine, and I got an idea. I walked slowly, waitin' for Squid-Brained Scallywag t' go back a pullin'. Once he did, I pulled t' stick out o' t' ground with me port hand, like it were a lighter version o' Black beard's cutlass. I swung it at his middle, and it closely sailed through his arms. It smacked the fool in three seconds from o' when I withdrew t' stick from t' ground. And he hunched over, clutchin' his rib. "Owww," Says he. "Yarrr," I said, sincerely. "Get yerself out o' t' bung hole, mate. You okay?" Fragment #2: I be playing Minecraft 1.8.2 patch, and was escortin' a crew o' pig to Davy Jones' Locker. I was in a bright green flatland surrounded by rainforest. Aye. Arrr, happy yap like a man o' t' seas day to ye!
9:00 AM Saw a very large but that was sort of a cross between a locust and a pincher bug. It was buried underground like a tarp. Tried digging with a broken bottle, poking with a stick. Thought I might call for help.
I am standing in a field. Several houses surround the field, each made with dull orange bricks. It's quite a nice sunny day (a common theme in my dreams) but I feel sad. Apparently I had to go back to school. I saw my two friends, O and O walking past me quite happily. I walk towards where I know the school is, and turn into another field, this time with a football pitch. While walking accross, I join more people walking to school. Suddenly, a small blonde boy stands in front of me, smirking. I try and fail to get past him, and then I get hit from behind. A group of 12 year olds start beating me up, spinning me round, throwing me e.t.c. I'll teach the little f****** I think, but every time I try to throw a punch, I meet heavy resistance until I either stop short of them, or it hits with barely any force. They aren't actually hurting me, but its infuriating to not be able to do anything. I used to get bullied a lot (though never physically, thank god) and this used to be a common theme in my dreams . One of my friends, B, calls "I thought you said fighting Year 7's was easy!" They find my struggle hilarious, and eventually throw me at the ground and go off to play football. I walk away to take an alternate route: a small path running down the side of the field, seperated by a small hedge. I find a stick, hop on and zoom along about a meter off the ground. Suddenly, I see a floating stick in front of me, blocking my path. I think to myself, "If I were lucid right now, that stick would..." and BLAM! POW! THOCK! THWUMP! HEDGEMONY! I become lucid. The stick seems to be some kind of evil force, trying to manifest in the stick and morph to a form more dangerous to me. As it dramatically gathers itself, I just bluntly grab it out of the air. No evil in my dreams...well, other than my evil. I smile wikedly to myself. I wonder how those Year 7's will cope with a lucid warrior? Righteous fury welling inside me, I fly dramatically over the hedge and make a beeline for the football pitch where I can see the perpetuators. The dastardly curs! And then, the dream changes and I loose the little lucidity I had. The rest of the dream involves me placing presents in giant christmas stockings. Still, at least I had a new years lucid!
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