Recent DJ Posts

For the past few days, I've had more of these experiences that occur during the waking phase, right before gaining full consciousness. It's almost like I am speaking to myself. It manifests as an "inner voice", which feels alien to my character, but at the same time definitely comes from me. Like there are two of me existing simultaneously, but are separated. I have a potential explanation for this phenomenon.

During sleep (in non-lucid dreams), the "logical" part of the brain (the frontal lobe) is mostly shut down, and we are guided/motivated almost entirely by our subconscious (which is why we are less "restrained" in dreams, and tend to "follow the plot" without thinking things through properly). When waking, the logical part of us wakes up. Perhaps, for some reason, I don't sleep as deeply as I used to, and/or my waking phase takes longer than it used to. During that time of "ultra light sleep", my consciousness (frontal lobe) might awake while my subconscious is still asleep, and immersed in a dream. Instead of leading to lucidity, it might cause some kind of temporary "split" of my consciousness and subconsciousness, in which the former can give "advice" to the latter...

In both cases I experienced thus far, the inner voice was a "voice of reason" that gave advice on my dream experience, things that I would have missed if not for that hint. The voice has some kind of "meta-knowledge" of the dream. In one case, it told me something would not work - and in another case it outright told me to stop being a zombie and flee from the hideout of an obvious serial killer... something my dream character was blissfully unaware of until the voice told him... me... whatever.

Weird stuff.

#16

An image depicting a diary

Quite funny how I had a nap due to being depressed about my former situation and this dream was what formulated from it.

I remember being on the site and looked at my Waking Journal following the post right after the one I made earlier about whether or not DreamViews was the right place for me and found that one of the staff had replied stating something and mentioning some user with some very hard to understand name would be able to help me. I then went and looked through the introductions section and found that person with an overly large signature of Shadow the Hedgehog wearing a black trench coat and some some sort of Sonic'esk avatar. I couldn't read what that individual said but I was awoken by my mother yelling at me me for taking a nap and to stop sleeping my days away and to make her food.

Notes: None to note.

---

• Date — 2/2//2016

• Went to bed — I cannot recall, I was depressed and just laid in bed before I took an unexpected nap.

• Woke up — 12:00PM

*Time logged — 5:15PM

• Total sleep — N/A

• Stress level throughout the day — Depressed

• Techniques/Practices

*Daytime — RCs

*Recall — N/A

*Inducing Method — N/A

• Dream Signs — N/A

• Perceived Length — 10 Minutes

• Emotions — Worried, Stressed

• Awareness — None

The dream I remembered this past morning was awfully strange! It was a literal dream within a dream situation. Basically, I had a dream, then woke up from the dream into another non-lucid dream, and then finally waking up in reality. Here's how it went.
I was in the Bates Motel house with my girlfriend and we were witnessing the final events of one of the latest episodes play out in front of us. We watched it all non-phased, as if we had seen it before, but we were enjoying it nonetheless. (I won't go into the details of what happened just in case some of you watch that show and don't want to be spoiled).
Suddenly, I woke up from that situation. It seems it was a dream! I was in the parking lot of my girlfriend's workplace, having just dropped her off, but instead of heading to MY workplace, I had parked my car in the parking lot and fallen asleep. I checked my phone's clock...I WAS AN HOUR LATE!! Panic filled me as I quickly started my car and drove off towards my workplace.
And then, I woke up from THAT, only this time I was in my bed and in real life. I should've done a reality check in case of a false awakening, but I was too groggy and weirded out by the double dream to even remember to. Not a whole bunch recalled in either dream, but the situation of waking from one dream to another was interesting.

I'm walking along the street when a shop catches my attention and I start to browse what they have on display. The shop interior is open to the street, separated from the sidewalk only by a waist-high display counter—it's peculiar that storefronts in my dreams are so frequently based on the Bangkok model, even though there may be nothing else distinctly Asian about the products or proprietors.

On the display counter facing the street is a variety of small bottles of essential oil. I examine the labels, and recognize a few types that I had purchased online recently. Would it have been better to buy them here and save on shipping? But I then I would be stuck with the sales tax, which might work out to even more.

From the conversation between the couple running the place, I get the impression that business has been slow today. I've spent enough time browsing that I feel like I ought to buy something, if only not to disappoint the proprietors. Besides, it will be good for the local economy. There's nothing in particular that I need, but I'm sure I can find something here I will use or enjoy.

Looking up from the essential oils on the counter, I see that there are several shelves of shampoo and conditioner on the side walls in front. That would be a practical purchase... but when I see the prices I hesitate. I don't like paying through the nose for bath products. I venture inside the store to see what else is available. The back wall contains a display shelf for books and magazines. Most of them seem to be about yoga. My eye falls on the title of one issue in particular: What Are the Benefits of Yoga Even When Doing it For No Reasons? I reflect that the title is biased; it implies that there is benefit. And the "no reasons" thing reminds me about the attitude so often demonstrated by American Buddhists regarding meditation, the idea that having any kind of reason suggests attachment, so one should meditate without a reason or goal... with the vague assumption that it is somehow good for you anyway.

Well, I'm not interested in yoga, and I'm certainly not interested in practicing yoga or meditation for no reason. My priorities are quite different, and very well-defined: I'm interested in whatever can help me improve my dreaming.

Gradually, I make a counter-clockwise sweep of the small store interior. On the left wall, a variety of objects are hanging on display. One catches my eye, a rectangle of black silk printed with a delicate pattern of flower buds. I take it down for a closer look, and note that the silk is pieced together in a curious, distinctive way. "What is this?" I ask the proprietors.

The man of the couple says, "You could use it for anything. You could even tear it up and just use the cloth."

I think—but don't say aloud—that the price tag is $90, an awful lot for a piece of scrap cloth! I take another look at the unusual stitching, and it reminds me of something. "Isn't it one of those Japanese cloths used for wrapping?" I'm sure I remember reading about these.

The woman affirms that it is, and seems surprised that I know about it. She clarifies that it is designed specifically to go around a 10x10x10" package. The art of making them is hardly practiced anymore, she says. I wonder if she means doing the wrapping properly—if the cloths were so rare, why would there be a random one for sale in this shop? And I'm sure I've seen them for sale before, if only in a catalogue.

I decide not to purchase the cloth as I don't have an appropriately sized 10x10x10" box to go with it. I'm about to peruse the essential oils again and pick something at random, when we are interrupted by a government raid. There is a moment when I wonder if I should avert this plot point entirely, but I let it happen—after all, what is the worst they can do, try to lock me up? And that won't amount to much. Instinctively I am aware of my invulnerability.

The scene shifts here, and now we are outdoors on a paved area, like a wide driveway, on top of a hill. However, I am aware that I am not far from the shop I was visiting; it is right at the bottom of the hill.

That agent is back again. What is this, the third time? He has threatened me before, but it has not gone well, so now he is threatening my host, the male shopkeeper. "I'll investigate every client," he warns. "No one can stand up to that kind of scrutiny."

I feel obliged to defend the poor guy and intervene. The agent should be dealing with me. I'm the real target; he has no business taking his frustrations out on random people who are accidentally associated with me. I get in his face and confront him.

"Why do you keep getting involved?" I still remember distinctly that this is the third time we have met, and that the previous two encounters have not ended well for him. This won't, either. I conclude my train of thought aloud: "You like it. You must like being humiliated."

The agent lies down on the ground, as if in demonstration of my point. I am annoyed and start berating him. I forget what I said initially, but I conclude, "And there's your shit-kicking foot." To make my point perfectly clear, I enact the metaphor literally. The agent's left leg extends to impossible length, his shoe and sock disappear, and his bare foot kicks a shit in a high arc away from us. To emphasize what has just happened, I ensure that it leaves a stain on his foot.

Afterwards the agent gets up to go, and I re-emphasize the pointlessness of his continued investigation of me. "My activities are confined to this circle. I'm not involved in anything in the wider world." I am aware that the 'wider world' is not even real for me; that I exist here within the circle of my own attention. This doesn't fully manifest as dream awareness, just the sense of my ontological difference from everyone else in this environment.

The agents, about four of them in total, all turn to go. They have three dogs with them. I laugh when one dog darts aside, seemingly smelling something in the bushes, and scarfs it down. Knowing the appetites of dogs, I assume it must have found the shit that was kicked.

I want to get back to the narrative from which I was so rudely interrupted; I still have business in the store at the bottom of the hill. I decide to fly for speed—and figure if the agents see me flying overhead, they might take my arguments more seriously and think twice before trying to interfere again. I swoop downhill at great speed, thinking about how I use the word "swooping," but when birds of prey dive like this, it is called "stooping." I realize I'm not sure precisely how such birds break their fall, so when I reach the bottom of the hill, I circle counter-clockwise twice to regain control before lightly letting my feet contact the ground again. The whole flight felt very graceful, and I am proud of myself, convinced that I am starting to get good at this. I'm not just flying anymore, I'm flying with style!

I momentarily wonder if the proprietors of the store will be startled to see me flying. As I reach the ground, however, I realize that I have lost interest in the original narrative—which was incredibly mundane, let's admit—and now want to write my report on what just happend. I still don't have a clear sense that I'm dreaming, as such, yet I understand distinctly that I need to wake up. It takes a bit of deliberate effort to push through the layers—they feel almost like a physical fog—that divide me from waking consciousness, but I persevere until I am sure I am definitely awake... at least as sure as one can ever be.

This was the last dream of the morning, and it seems to demonstrate the process of waking up, as the self-awareness and memories of my dream-self gradually align closer and closer with those of waking life.

Am I a human or a fox? It is unclear at first. I find an overturned clay pot on the walkway next to a building. It is full of writhing earthworms, and I eat a number of them, enjoying the slick chewy texture. Approvingly I think, "From the foxes' perspective, stocks aren't really working out. What they want is more protein, more easily accessible."

By "stocks" I mean the stock market, which I think must have crashed, and I have the impression that the world is in some post-apocalyptic state. I am on the grounds of a museum in Northern California, one with a park-like campus. I move across the lawn and encounter an enormous earthworm sliding out from under a bush. It is already several feet long, and I guess that this is only a quarter of its length. In diameter it is as thick as my arm. At this point my body is clearly human, and my thoughts are getting closer to those of my waking mind.

It surprises me to see a worm so large. I feel like I've seen ones this big in other countries, but never here. Still, I remember seeing those big banana slugs in the Bay Area, so maybe giant earthworms are part of the same ecosystem. Probably I never saw one before because they're usually underground. Why is this one on the surface?

I tear off a few inches of meat from the front end of the worm and nibble on it. It is much coarser in texture than the regular-sized worms I was just enjoying, and I find it unpalatable. I wonder if cooking would improve it or make it even worse, softer and mealier. I throw the uneaten portion to the ground, regretting that I took more than I'm able to consume. I should have started with a smaller sample. Poor worm. I look at it, and it is still crawling along as though nothing happened. I reassure myself that it will probably be fine; the missing section might even grow back.

I start to wonder if it is safe to eat raw worm. I always thought it was, and the couple I swallowed whole in the past had no ill-effects, but this one was enormous. It was sobering to learn that raw snails can harbor fatal parasites. Given that worms just eat rot and fungi, might they contain bad bacteria? After all, now that I've seen where they live... I think about my worm compost bins. I probably should look into this before eating any more.

This morning I visited the doctor to get some blood taken. During the drawing process, I lost consciousness. The time in between was basically lost--I do not have any real solid feeling of "being" anywhere, except some flitting images or colors that my mind was attempting to process. I couldn't even really claim to have had a "self" at this point--basically just a feeling of confusion and bewilderment. In retrospect, I imagine this is what animals must feel like at times, and it was highly . . . disconcerting.

As I began to come out of it, in darkness, I had the distinct feeling of being in both a sitting position and a lying position, and it became crucial to me to understand which of these my body was currently in. Once I was revived (eyes open and conscious) I still did not recognize any of the people there (my doctor and two nurses) or where I was until my doctor explained what had happened. I tried to explain my confusion: "I didn't know where I was!" My doctor very compassionately nodded, as though he understood. Maybe he did. Very unpleasant experience--basically fatigued for the rest of the day with a mild headache.

So here was what came to me: was what I experienced coming out of the state (or within the state? hard to say) an example of what death will "feel" like? If so, I can only say I expect it will be terrible--at least the dying part.

I am on my motorbike and am racing against time. /I am with my father and notice that we arenot wearing helmets. I find this a strange occurance and perform a /rc. I realise I am dreaming however the lucidity is low and unstable. I feel a tremendous pull to down "deep within" the dream. something I have never felt in ld before.

I then awake. recall and fall back to sleep.

Starting out with a small low level ld this early into the game is inspiring and lets me know that I will be able to pick it back up again with no hassle.

The pull was a very strange sensation, one that I have not felt before. it was if I were being pulled right in the very essence of the dream it self, not down as such more within. this also felt very natural like it is something that I should know about and follow, however I awoke.

Could this be a new level that I have not seen before? or was it something as simple as my body waking up and my dream making sense of the sensations. we all know how quickly the outside world can impose on the dream.

I wrestle with my scattered mind as I lay beneath the covers, ruminating over the prospects of future possibilities. The calm light of sleep appears to be far over the horizon with no chance of rising at any time soon.

Why does this always happen when I have work in the morning?

Voices. Whispering. To my right, over in the corner.

Wtf?

To my right there is a group of people, standing over me in the darkness. They walk around my bedroom examining its surroundings.

"This looks good"
"I'm not sure I like the windows"
"Why is the mattress on the floor?"

A group of elderly people discuss the room with one another as I lay in the bed.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you doing in my room? It's six in the morning."

"We're here for the open house, honey," an elderly woman informs me.

"What open house? We're not selling the house. Get the fuck out of my room."

They ignore my resilience and continue to examine my surroundings.

Something isn't right. This is beyond anything normal, and these people are oddly short. Very short...

It's hard to make out their faces in the shadows. I make several attempts to catch a glance, but each time they deliberately avoid my gaze. There is something inhuman about this.

"You guys aren't doing a very good job of hiding your identities. You're aliens, aren't you?"

They share a patronizing laugh amongst themselves, as if mocking my inferior human knowledge. One of the old women climbs into bed with me. This is fucked up.

"You see, honey, we are here for the house. However, we have to take care of a few things first."

"When did I ever give you permission to come into my house? Get the hell out of here."

She smiles and then they are gone. I am awake. I think. There is a lingering presence in the room. I look toward my doorway. A faint white cloud. I can almost make it out. It darts over me.

The fuck.

I grab my phone and shine the light at it. Nothing. The presence is gone.

Man, I wish I did more drugs. Then at least I wouldn't have to blame the Twilight Zone for this kind of shit.

I was lying on the strand, just enjoying the good weather, when one of my friends come over, he asks me if I wanna go have a milkshake, so we head up the wooden stairs to the bar, where we sit and turn around against the ocean, suddenly a bee comes for my milkshake, I wave it off, and hit it. It flies off. Then it comes back, and I start waving it off again, and the bee gets more and more furious and I go more and more into panic, fearing it will sting me, so I start waving my arms, and apperantly I did so in the waking life, as I hit myself in the head -.-

01.05.2011

Romantic dinner with wife, wife's friends and my friends (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

I was going to have a romantic dinner with my wife. The restaurant was in the top of a mall.

I was going to bring my friends from waking to that romantic dinner. The mall was huge, it was big windows and huge chandeliers. The mall was maze alike, and it was indoors.

I finally reached the final escalator. The door to the restaurant was huge, and it did not look fancy. Our table was by the very entrance. It was a round table. There was a turkey in the middle and three different bottles of red wine. On the very left edge, there was one wine glass filled up.

Suddenly, my wife's friend appeared, they were not from waking. They were all blond. One of them laughed and flipped the table. I was a little pissed for what happened and got a call from my friends.

I appeared in the middle of the road, meeting with them. We were heading to the mall. Five of some friends I had when I was on my teens where with me. Funny enough, each of them had their real waking life personally, but more exaggerated.

We got to the mall and the escalators did not work well. Something more happened.

Last night, I did have a dream, or was it early morning? I'm not sure. I'm really going crazy wanting a lucid dream, but I had another of my terrible husband dreams instead. I keep getting those. Don't know why. He really isn't THAT terrible!

Joe, my husband, refused to pay a bill in the dream, and I was so mad that I started attacking him. I actually bit him, and just went crazy! I bit his lip hard. I bit his arm. I demanded that he apolygize. LOL. He refused! Man, was I mad! Funny thing is, he woke me up this morning and I was still ready to do some damage. He couldn't understand why I was staring him down! Of course, I'm a bit more calm in my waking life, so, no cops were involved. Just kidding. He was like "What'd I do?" It did take me an hour or so to not feel the anger I felt in my dream. Isn't it funny how real those dreams can be? You can get confused upon waking.

Now, my first lucid that I actually was able to make happen was about a week ago. I looked around in my dream and suddenly, not sure how, I was aware! I started jumping up and down! "Yay, I'm in a dream" I think that is what I said but something along those lines. I was too excited! I woke up! "Oh man!"

Now, I am still working on it. I think that the next one I get, I will try and keep calm.