All DJ Entries

Friday: A mountain "full of fog, 'wolves' and 'sheep'", where a woman who'll wind up becoming a historical figure is setting out to show the other side that some of their 'wolves' have deserted and are now helping her guard the 'sheep.'

Today: A guy in space, traveling toward Earth along with many, many other ships in some kind of race, the ship he's in seems made up of many different old parts, pieces are falling off along the way but he seems to have expected that. He's full of rage. There was something to do with lots being drawn, and his younger sister had been one of the winners, which would have meant she was safe and wouldn't have to take her chances in the race with the rest of them, but her parents (from whom he's estranged) had convinced her to give up her slot, that she must live or die and "become ashes" with them, so that they wouldn't be separated in the next life and lose her forever. She told him about this as he was looking over her ship for her, and he found something wrong with it, something that had been sabotaged, that would prevent him from communicating with her after the journey even if they both survived. He fixes it, and is furious.

Still the same storyline - there's a woman somewhere "left behind", the place all the people in the race and the lottery were abandoning. She wakes up with a gun next to her - not hers - and sees someone who says something to her. She, outraged by what he said, says "I don't look like a nice person to you?", and shoots him. Her logic being that if he couldn't recognize a good person when he saw one, he must be a bad person. As she shoots him, her face changes in some subtle way, something to do with her teeth, and I'm aware that in this place, now, people physically change to reflect their actions, and this is part of what the others were escaping from.

A conversation between a man and a woman in a bedroom as she's tying sheets together into a ladder, preparing to escape:
He: "I thought you might have missed it."
She: "Missed what?"
He: "The window."
She: "I can't miss the window. You're my destiny - war."

After an incident with a robot - it appeared human and was programmed to act as a caregiver to a group of four kids, something had gone wrong with it and put the kids in danger. Now someone's complaining to someone else about it - one's in law enforcement, the other's in politics, not sure which one is which. The one listening to the complaint responds, "I believe I oversaw the (something). And (something) to call in some backup." But when she says 'backup', she's not talking about something official. I see an image of two guys, not in any kind of uniform, one's scrawny and one's a little overweight, they have some connection to photography, possibly the press - they're the 'backup' she was referring to.

There's a woman having a sort of Cinderella transformation - rags to ballgown - but she doesn't seem in the least bit impressed by it. I'm vaguely annoyed at her lack of reaction, but on with the show. She enters a throne room and asks something of the king, who says "But first answer me this. When did you become the Evil Queen?" She doesn't know what to make of this. She says, "I'm not a queen." "Your father is dead," says the king - her father was also a ruler, she became queen the moment he died. The king here holds out a collection of brown papers. He says it's something her father had been putting together the night he died - last night - something urgent, something for her, since she'd been away on this mission.

I'm looking at a book containing a moving image representing En - a small boat on a river, stylized lotus flowers, a lot of gold paint. The color's faded and chipped in places, but still beautiful.

A musician's writing a letter to a friend of his, trying to comfort his friend, and he's thinking about how limited words are, how it can't replicate the sort of things he'd do if he was there in person, even the simple act of putting on a familiar tune. He goes to the gramophone and puts on the tune he was thinking of, and sits to listen to it before he continues writing, thinking that perhaps the feeling he gets from this song will come across in his words.

A couple. A blonde woman is laying out cards on the floor in five columns, representing the guy's past relationships; he's lying on his back next to her, not looking. She observes that his two longest relationships followed the exact same pattern: lasted the same amount of time, ended the same way, with the same warning signs beforehand. She says based on that pattern, if (event) happens at (time into relationship), he might as well bail immediately.

One of the shorter columns is unique in that every card represents things going well, and she wonders why he'd split up with that guy. Privately, she's realizing that he ended things shortly after he'd had some non-romantic encounter with her, and she's wondering if she was the reason for the split. But out loud she just points out how odd it looks that they broke it off considering it seemed to be going so well. He teases her, saying "yeah, I'm starting to miss a bit of swordplay" - part of the joke here is that the guy in question also did something involving literal swords - and she hits him, lightly, on the arm; then she puts the cards down and straddles him, and says something along the lines of "Not like that. I mean, you had a different dynamic than you did with anyone else. Not in a good way. I mean, I liked him, when he was alive - oh, god." He's laughing at her. What she'd been trying to say by 'not in a good way' was that although the two of them clearly got along, they hadn't seemed really emotionally attached, but she's stumbling over this conversation. He assures her, yes, the guy in question had indeed been great when he was alive - teasing her about her reluctance to sound disrespectful of the dead - he was lovely and wonderful and all that, and she's also lovely and wonderful and all that. There's a lot of laughing from both of them over how ridiculous this conversation is.

12.28.13

Last night bed after 1:30am - 9:45am

Had to get up around 4 to take advil and watched TV till it kicked in (WBTB). I also had a convo with rudedude about dilds just before bed. And how I no longer have them, coz I mostly wild. I was trying to help him start RCing again.

DR:
I'm standing with crowd of people in a small, one story building with lots of windows. All is cool, when we hear something approaching. I look outside and there is this flying object approaching fast. Size of a small bus, white with red and blue stripes and with sharp corners.

It flys by, stops and turns around to come by again. I can see it's con trail. It slows down near the building and I yell "It's coming here, it's stopping". That's when I have the "wtf" moment. I look at my hands and I have more than 5 fingers. yeey, I'm dreaming.

I promptly throw a fireball. I'm satisfied that they are still guided by my eyes. Where I look, that's where fireball hits. Then there is this woman. And a baaaad witch. Then it turns out they are both one person. The witch changes her face to something hideous and comes at me with open mouth, yelling. I put my hands on her open jaw and push both jaws in different direction downward. I can feel her teeth, my hands are sore and bleeding. But I don't let go. I break her face and she falls into pieces. Someone tells me to make a hole and throw her in there. So I look at the grond and will a hole. I think it's too small and shallow. But when I look, I wery proud of my work. It looks like a 5 feet wide well, quite deep, and it has some purty shiny metal grates for the bottom. I throw her in there and pieces keep falling into the blackness of the well.

DR:
(During WBTB I watched a show "secrets of the secret service" and it was about how they were protecting obama during inauguration)
So, I'm suddenly sitting next to Obama. He is all relaxed and we are talking. Somebody wants me to show him a website I have linked earlier. So I look through my notebook. I have bunch of snippets, notes, links, all neatly organized and all about politics. I think I find the article but not sure about the link. I forgot what the topic was. So we are looking at his assistants laptop. As I move around, I touch a rifle that's proped against a chair. A very, very handsome secret service agent put it there. I apologize for moving it. It has a huge scope and it's beautiful. The rifle, I mean.

As I sit next to prez, our legs touch a few times. I wonder what is he doing here for so long and why is he talking to me so much. There is lot more, but I have forgotten : (

A minor tyrant with some nefarious plan has just provided his elite guard with some new, lethal weapon related to mind control and is staging a private demonstration for two prisoners, people who'd been opposing him. But the guard who's supposed to provide the demonstration, after hearing the tyrant's plans, uses the weapon to kill himself rather than go through with it. The tyrant's reaction to this is mostly just contempt, and he orders one of the other guards to take the dead man's place - but instead, they all kill themselves rather than be involved in this plan. Meanwhile, the two prisoners are set free by the tyrant's heir, a younger brother or nephew, someone who never seemed to take anything very seriously; it turns out that attitude was just an act, allowing him to arrange a rebellion without being suspected. Some seemingly-nonsensical comments he'd made earlier make more sense in light of this.

There's a woman bending over a pool table, two guys - her servants - behind her. A man lounging on a couch opposite her is holding a camera and taking a photo of her, and he's asking her if she's sure she wants to play this way, 2 against 1. The man currently taking his shot tells him to knock it off, the lady knows her own mind. I'm a 3rd person observer, and from where I'm 'standing', I can't see this woman's face clearly, but her hair and her bearing remind me of Janette. I have the feeling I've been looking for Janette for a long time, and I go in for a closer look. There's a resemblance, but it's not her. While I was distracted, the conversation's turned more serious and they've stopped paying attention to the pool game; I get the impression that this is some kind of informal interrogation of this woman, or she's being put on the spot in some way. She's saying, "perhaps we have to suffer, to (justify or maintain or deserve, some word like that) our position." The others don't much care for this theory.

Morning of December 9, 2013. Monday.



In my dream, it seems to be the last day of middle school, possibly not the last day of the grade but prior to a supposed spring break, involving only sixth to eighth grade classes though I seem to be the oldest and with the highest level of authority in some sort of “commander” role. The part of the “school” we are in (which I perceive as probably being only about a quarter of the size of my real school in conscious afterthought) seems more like a slightly familiar grocery store in some areas, as the larger room is set out with mostly empty aisles similar to a grocery store (and running east to west with us in the west area of the building) but also with sections within the shelf areas that have tables or chairs or openings depending on the section. The northernmost shelf, behind the end section, has a table with my computer set up and with a (fictional) 3-D printer closer to the end section.

Instead of trying to manipulate my dream in my full lucidity, I feel confident enough to remain mentally passive and see what happens (as I already had full control of my martial arts dream that came before this one). The group of students within my dream, mostly male, seems to be of a pretend paramilitary group involved in war games. However, there are no replica weapons, maps, or other aspects at my dream’s beginning point. Our teachers have apparently already left for the day earlier this morning. I continue to have the most authority though am still just another student it seems.

A seemingly familiar classmate in shabby greenish-gray loose-fitting clothing and of a dull-witted visage hands me a (I assume) replica Beretta M1934 (very dark matte blue), apparently from the tall narrow locker in a room through a doorway to the northwest corner. The trigger on the Beretta M1934 seems to be facing the wrong way (the crescent shape pointing towards the user), but I am uncertain of the implications - it would probably still work the same way, as everything else seems correct. (This event may have been influenced by thoughts on the new humidifier we bought in real life, in it having two buttons switched around relative to their functions though it still works). In being annoyed that a dream character had the audacity to try to get the “war games” started on terms other than mine, I mentally transform the pistol into a construct of nougat of the exact same shape and immediately proceed to eat the sweet, wonderful-tasting bluish-colored nougat - at least about twenty-five percent of it. I place it on my table and say “irrelevant” and tell him to go home, which he does a bit reluctantly.



Soon, I start to pull out maps from near the table and place them on the ends of the aisles. The one farthest to the south (all focus here is on the western ends of the aisles and there are at least four) is quite large, with at least six creases and is vertically narrower. It looks the most complex and colorful yet also seems to relate to some sort of Celtic legend or fantasy, possibly relevant to a recently released computer RPG, the implications of which start to bore me. Many of the students (including at least two unknown females) seem more interested in this than the other maps and supposed plans. It seems, though, the majority would still prefer a World War II scenario in the war games, although there are different opinions expressed from time to time, including from a couple students continuously contradicting themselves relative to their interests.

I try to get things going a little better, as there are only a few hours left on this last day before spring break, yet no one is really in costume yet either, so engaging in war games with only the person (with no uniform) and nothing else seems a bit pointless. I ask one person what they would like and they tell me “a blue machine gun”. I go over to my computer and start to type “blue machine gun” so that my 3-D printer will create one. This seems to be going fine as I type b, l, u - but then the keyboard blows up in my face in flame and smoke. There seems to be a clever but unexpected play on “blew” and “blue”, and I am really annoyed by this pun altering my intent. However, I keep going without wanting any of the other dream characters to notice my frustration. There is not much left of my computer keyboard and most of its keys are now missing (but mostly only as if removed for cleaning as there does not appear to be much fire damage), leaving mostly only a hollow space in its center area. The keys that are still on my keyboard and possibly usable are the ones with the least frequency, such as Z, Q, X, J, K, and a few others. I stoically pretend to type “blue machine gun” on the missing keys and mentally force the 3-D printer to come on and create the blue machine gun anyway. I test it and it is one of those toy machine guns that makes a sort of repetitive clacking sound. As I hand the toy weapon to the student, the barrel support turns black. “No, all blue, you imbecile,” I say to the toy weapon, and it changes back, but only for a few seconds, then returns to being all blue except for the barrel support area. Still, the fellow student seems very happy with it and runs off.

I go back to make more items that may be put to use but there is a small isolated adapter on the table related to the monitor and which seems to be open and exposing capacitors and wiring. It soon starts to sizzle, catch on fire, and make a lot of black smoke. I unplug everything. A few people notice my mishaps. Still - I mentally will everything to work without being plugged in while not even pretending to use the computer keyboard at that point. No one comments on (or even seems to care or notice much) me using my equipment without electricity.

I then consider if vehicles will be needed for our war games. I ask another student what sort of vehicle he wants and after seeming to think awhile on it, he says “a road”. I am annoyed and tell him that a road is not a vehicle and am not sure if anything will ever get started before this day ends.

Soon, many of the other students start singing the old Freakies Cereal song (from 1974), which for some reason, has been stuck in my head lately (relative to research for another dream). Apparently, I am now “Boss Moss”. “Make sure you spell it right!” I yell as the real-life song response phrase as they are all singing and leaving via the eastern doorway and then wandering about on the streets in random pursuit of each other. “Wait!” I yell, “that’s not very bright to say spell it right” (doing a dancing rhyme) “it should be ‘make sure you spell it CORRECTLY!’" No one cares, and most are still using “invisible” (imaginary) weapons - and falling over pretending to die and quickly getting up again and zigzagging north up the streets and sidewalks as my dream begins to break up and lose focus with the song still ringing in my head yet with a sense of the beginning of summer (which contradicts the implied season in the first part of my dream).

Monday 12.02.13

Last night bed 11:30pm

I'm in a garden at my childhood house. Lots of people there. There is a man, that is walking around the cellars hallway and also the yard. He walks around slowly, with sinister purpose. I have a gun and it seems like i also have ammo. It's in a small ammo box. Ammunition is small, golden in color, or yellow brass.

I tell someone to lock all their doors and to call my mom and others to stay in their apartments. That's when i see my mom, cluelessly peeking out of one of the doors leading to the yard. I yell at her to get back inside and lock the doors.

In the meantime, I keep shooting the guy, with no effect. I keep reloading the gun, but now the bullets are getting all messed up. They are tiny, deformed, and mixed in with stuff like lint and other stupid things. The intruder is now heading towards us. So I run up to him and knock him out cold.

I'm asking a neighbor if I should call 911, or the non-emergency number. She says non-emergency, since we got him neutralized.

In a wild west-inspired setting, there's someone called 'the Kid', although he's a grown man with greying hair and wrinkles. I'm watching him ride a motorcycle out of town, and I'm thinking that although he may not be a Kid, it'd also be wrong to call him a man, since he's not human.

There's a man and a woman in some kind of storage space, looks like an attic. She's asking if he's ever even tried moving to 'a real town' and setting up 'a real life,' the way she says other heroes have done. He's surprised she called him a hero and says she's got the wrong idea, and that he's not even human. As a third person observer, I'm thinking how cliche he is, the self-loathing vampire hero type. I focus on his appearance for the first time - a man in a red coat, with a face that reminds me of some actor but covered in scars and boils, and I'm thinking that at least this one's not pretty.

There's a dead guy on the floor between the two of them, and now he wakes up. The guy in the red coat picks up this huge sword with a curve in the blade which I associate with beheading, and he says something about how what he really wants isn't 'a real life in a real town'; what he wants is this weapon, automated, on a massive scale. The dead guy says something about being grateful before his head's taken off.

There are people arguing in the town square. The guy in the red coat gathered everyone here and is standing up on a wooden stage trying to talk to them. One person says, "You act like one of 'em, the game's won!" 'Them' meaning vampires, and 'won' meaning won by the vampires. The person he's arguing with says, "You resist 'em, the game's won!" Everyone seems to think it's hopeless. While the guy in the red coat is focused on them, he doesn't see the burned and headless body which is crawling out of town.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Dracula, a girl, and a priest/vampire slayer, in a field in daylight. Dracula's kneeling, and the priest's saying that He often seems to hear him and know what's needed. In response, black shapes fill the sky, blotting out the sun, which Dracula doesn't like at all. As a 3rd person observer, I'm thinking about how this is an interesting switch; normally you'd think of darkness favoring vampires, but Dracula was fine with sunlight. The girl says something about sending him to hell, but she's got it backwards; the priest isn't in the business of damning souls. On closer look, the things blotting out the sun are crows; and then among them appear the souls of all those he'd turned.

17.11.2013 2/2

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

Eu estava numa sala gigante de faculdade e era representante da sala. Estávamos em uma aula livre e quase todo mundo dormia. Algum aluno me pedia pra acordá-los e eu dizia que não iria. Acho que ele mesmo acordava os outros depois.
A aula começava, não me lembro sobre o que era.
Saíamos da sala e íamos pra uma banca de jornal, eu e mais umas 3-4 pessoas. Parecia muito a banca que ficava na saída do condomínio Acácias. Eu ou alguém estava procurando mangás.
Depois disso lembro de estar em um deserto, indo pra uma base. Lá haviam muitas pessoas armadas. O sonho virava um tipo de FPS e eu, com um rifle de mira telescópica matava todos que estavam lá.
Dentro da base aparecia um casal de gordos que eram imunes as minhas armas. Eu pegava um lança granadas parecido com o do Shadow Warrior e disparava várias granadas dentro de uma máquina de lavar que estava perto deles. Ela explodia e os atordoava. Nessa hora eu fugia. Encontrava uma porta branca e lisa, sem fechadura ou maçaneta, apenas uma tranca simples e quebrada. Eu tentava entortar a tranca pra trancar a porta.
Do outro lado eu colocava minas na parece, parecidas com as do Duke Nukem, mas redondas, e fugia.

I'm saying "Amen," the end of an exorcism. I'd been dealing with a demon and got in over my head, and I'm conflicted about whether exorcising it is the right thing to do - seems rude, you can't go around summoning people up and then flipping out at them - but either way it's been kicked out now, laughing as it leaves, which is never a good sign. I float back down the hall to bed, observing the lack of footsteps, and then get into bed, surprising the cat.

(Woke up, about half an hour after going to sleep. The cat had curled up at the foot of the bed while I was asleep.)

A fragment with a character who's king of a small people who don't necessarily want him - he's traveling.

A guy who runs a tavern screwed up a recipe, using potato instead of sweet potato, and his house elf tried to help by offering some spices to cover the taste, so the master blames it all on the house elf, starts yelling at it, then hitting it. I'm seeing this as I'm walking past the door, and I'm thinking that this is a particularly ugly house elf, only one eye and covered in bruises - but then house elves always look a little suspicious. Which makes me think - they're also very traditional, and use the term 'Dark Lord' rather than 'You Know Who,' so I wonder if maybe I could entrust it with a certain thing I need taken care of - but when I start to talk to it, it gets scared and disappears off to wherever it is house elves go.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Fragment of a scene involving a teenage guy talking to a vampire woman carrying a sword. Now he's home and sitting down on the couch, and the dream switches to 3rd person to focus on his father's husband, who'd been at his desk in the same room but goes to the door now to accept a delivery.

The guy at the door is a friend, or a professional contact anyway, someone who's personally delivering a book he'd requested. It's a living book. His friend delivering it warns him that he'll need it back tomorrow, someone else had reserved it. The man says that's fine, he just needed to speak with her - the spirit in the book - tonight. Although he doesn't say it out loud, there's something going on tomorrow that he's worried about, and he wants to talk it over with her. He's also thinking about a new room that's being built. The man who delivered the book says she's been reading sheet music lately; although he doesn't need to say it out loud, it's an implied request for the guy borrowing the book to provide her with some sheet music when he's done talking with her, as she doesn't like being left alone with nothing to read.

The first of several gods is watching the first humans age, and aging himself to match the oldest of them.

I'm walking past a shrine on a holiday, and hearing kids sing a song that I recognize as being part of a game like tag or hide and seek. There's a cloud of something floating in the air, I can't tell if it's tiny petals or some kind of dust, but it floats through the shrine gate and where it gathers I see a brief image of some great horned creature.

There's some futuristic family watching a concert, wearing shoes that let them fly, but the youngest girl can't get hers to work right, can't sit still, keeps flying off in different directions. Finally her mother catches her and makes her turn the shoes off, angry with her.

Someone who's just finished drawing a picture of 10 priests, then a picture of me, offers to draw a picture of Andromache; in the dream I believed that was the name of a goetic demon.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

There's a witch I put under an enchanted sleep a long time ago, but a girl's come to warn me that she's started to wake up. There are rhymes and charms meant to keep her asleep, but when I see they're not going to work I run for the nearest doorway, to put a few realities between us. The doors I pass through repeatedly change the scene until I wind up in a tiny square room, just large enough for me, with only the one entrance; I get rid of the roof and start flying.

I'm with a group of people in what looks like some underground stone temple, talking to a guy who emerged from a tunnel in the floor, and I'm noting that he looks just like his ancestor. We're returning his ancestor's sword to him, although now it's just a sword - there had been something else attached to it, something we used. As I'm thinking about this I notice that the tunnel has a carving of the Monkey King's head set above it.

A cardinal arrives at the top of the stairs leading down to the temple, followed by attendants in red and gold brocade. He's been our enemy before, hunting us down, although that's been resolved; still, we're not exactly pleased to see him, and his attendants start to run forward to put themselves between him and us. But he holds up a hand to tell them to stay back. He's brought us a satchel full of papers granting us certain privileges in recognition of our service to (something or other) - none of the privileges granted are actually very useful, this is just a symbolic gesture. I mention to one of the guys with me that I'd rather have another of those papers claiming we were acting with his permission and authority.

In what looks like a morgue, there's a live man lying down on a slab being examined by a guy in a wheelchair, along with a goon in a suit standing behind the chair, and a man in a white coat standing over the slab. The guy in the chair is looking for someone who's had plastic surgery, and he's thinking the guy on the slab might be him. He's wrong. He's also thinking about peeling back the skin of the face to get a look at the underlying bone structure. The guy on the slab has got the wrong idea about what's going on, he was brought here by the man in the white coat under false pretenses, and he's saying, "So you recognized me on account of my face?" The man in the wheelchair had been gripping him by the chin. Now he starts to reach toward the guy's bare chest, thinking about the heart, and the guy says "Hey, I thought you weren't gonna take anything too-" He looks at the guy in the white coat, who is looking up at the ceiling and moving his lips silently, maybe praying.

3rd person following 3 people traveling through time, one woman and two men. One of the men, Billy, winds up being left behind, the other two have to abandon him in a place where he's "condemned by the powers to a life of battles." But they've just now encountered him again, as the 9th "killer" they have to face in a place of challenges, carrying a sword. A great deal of time has passed from his perspective and he's almost unrecognizable, cold and intimidating.

They've returned to their own time, in the hotel rooms they were in before all the time travel started. Due to timeline shenanigans, the woman runs into a 'past' version of Billy in the hall, a version who hasn't done any time traveling at all yet, smiling as usual.

The 'killer' version of Billy is talking about the souls left "there," abandoned by her. The other man who'd traveled with them questions that phrasing, 'souls' - "Are there really any souls in hell now?" Due to timeline shenanigans, is the implication - before Billy'd been abandoned, the two of them had a longstanding debate on what happens to the people in erased timelines, whether they still exist in any form. Billy's smiling, which is not a good thing, and saying they can finally conclude that debate.

Hypnagogia: A man's voice laughing, deeply unpleasant.

A man and a woman in what looks like an interrogation room, although he is technically free to go at any time, and the organization this woman belongs to isn't exactly law enforcement. There's a woman, not human, something else, something dangerous, who's coming for this man - she's not a danger to him, but she is to everyone else - and the people here need to know his story before she gets there. He says to the human woman in the room with him, "And the bounty? P.Big's?" P.Big being the name of the larger of the two bounties he'd recently turned in - these people had confiscated his reward money, along with the rest of his belongings. That's the main reason he's still here. She says, "You can have it back. In exchange for the war story."

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

A man waiting for a tow truck finally hears a vehicle pull up outside, goes to the window to look. There's a woman in a firefighter's uniform entering the house through the back door, without him noticing, and she watches as the man is killed by a wire around his throat. The two men who killed him pick up his body, standing right next to her but not looking at her or acknowledging her in any way.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

There's a boy with an older woman - possibly his grandmother, though relatively young for it, someone who doesn't live with him but who stopped by today - he's crouching in a corner with a weapon, listening to what he believes is someone with a gun in his home. He's eager to face them. Footsteps approach the door, the door opens - it's the gardener/maid, and she's carrying a leaf blower, not a rifle. She makes the usual small talk and walks on. His grandmother says to him that she is not going to ask what he was thinking, she is not going to dignify this by discussing it, but she wants him to think about what just happened.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Last dream was just fragments, but had similar themes from the earlier dreams: something about a boy, an older woman who knows better than him, and a war.

Partially Lucid (first recorded lucid dream)

1/30/11 9:00 p.m.
1/31/11 4:41 a.m.

I remember the first dream... My sister and I were talking about something, it was in the bedroom of the 1st floor at my aunt's house. Then I went outside to the living room- it was quite bright, I then tried to hover in the air, then I awoke.

The next dream when I went asleep was a bit stranger. My parents and I were in the kitchen on the 2nd floor of my house and we were discussing some trip. The table looked messy, I was sitting at the side of the table. On the table was an assortment o food bit it didn't look appetizing. There was some half-eaten General Tso Chicken and my parents said I had to eat it.

The next sequence of dreams became increasingly bizarre. I had a vision of someone, whom the announcer of my dream identified as Charles Darwin. The man was dressed in priestly clothing and he looked more like George Carlin than Darwin. The location looked like a meadow within a swamp; it was quite dark. The narrator said he would be dunked in the water which was rather clear; I could see underwater. When the man plunged himself into the "baptismal ritual" he bled underwater and I saw the blood diffuse throughout.

The next dream was stranger still. Someone who appeared to appeared to be a slave, was walking in what looked like a cavern. Then I saw the man on a line with other slaves. Unhappy with this, he somehow broke free of his chains, took one of the guards swords and slew not only the pirates but some of the slaves! The way in which he killed them was most peculiar. He would slice their abdomen and wrists, then finally aim and strike their necks. The victims would just stand there without saying a word. Interestingly, there was no blood, yet I knew they were dead. The location of the dream was the most fantasy based thus far. There were rocks everywhere and what looked like an escalatory bridge towards a massive door; in the door was light. I then took control of the man and started to run, although no one was chasing me. I came to a cavern which was rectangular shaped and near the end I saw a mirror, which I smashed to smithereens, trying to see my reflection. Unfortunately I saw no reflection and the dream ended.

In a dream prior to this one, I assumed the role of a murderer. I went to an office-like building where some gentlemen were drinking tea. The next couple of dreams are a series of false awakenings.

The first one was when my roommate had to go to his morning class... just then, I started to wonder what was real and what wasn't. I started fading to another dream in which I saw my roommate's bed become a mountain and I became a giant. I started touching the basin of the mountain and it's rivers. I wanted to reduce my size so I could explore the area, but it wasn't so.

Then I "awoke" again to find my roommate at his computer and in real life he has a bulletin board on the wall. This bulletin board however looked like a computer panel screen with numbers and programs and what not.

The next dream I found D. near the end of my bed talking and joking . I think he had a bean bag hat on. We all laughed except my roommate.

Then I woke up again to find out D. wasn't there and it was all a dream. Of course, I was still dreaming and I went up and got out of bed to go to the bathroom. There I found M. and asked him if I was dreaming. He didn't respond. I asked angrily this time and he started to whimper silently while cringing. Knowing my roommate would never be frightened at me, I assumed I was dreaming thereby making the dream lucid. Next, I awoke yet again from my bed and tried to go to the bathroom only to find that it was blocked by my roommate's bookshelf. I then again realized I was dreaming this. I went out of my room into the dorm living room and tried to manipulate my dream, lucid with control. Alas, this was not to be as I woke up for real this time.

I'm evacuating a place where True Blood's Eric and Bill had been staying; Bill's already gone, but Eric's chained to a chair, and I have no intention of freeing him. I'm going to carry him out in the chair. Despite this, I have nothing against him, and I'm asking him if he wants me to bring any of the belongings he's kept in these rooms. I'm kneeling in front of the chair as I speak to him, and I say that I may need him to carry something of Bill's in exchange, to which he consents. Aside from 2 belongings which needed no discussion, he says he doesn't need anything else. It seems a shame, the rooms are full of things he's collected over his lifetime. I pick up a sword he has on display with a hilt that looks like carved ivory or bone, and I say sure, you may not need anything else, but it's better if it can come, isn't it? I put it on the chair with him.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

Fragment: a mention of Louis, a king.

I've heard about a gathering of people I'm thinking of as 'the British' tonight - there's a connotation of a specific politically subversive group in my mind - and I intend to arrange a meeting with the queen, although I'm not as close to her in this reality as I have been in past iterations; I've spent too much time focusing on other contacts this time through. I sit down beside the queen at her mirror. Her daughter, Antoinette, is here as well, standing by the window; she's beautiful but spoiled, self-centered. That's largely my fault - in other versions of this reality I'd devoted more time to her and she'd developed into a very sweet girl. This time around, we're not particularly close, and she notes only that she owes her name to me. In French, I ask the queen her plans for this evening after the party. I don't speak to her in a particularly deferential manner. She seems wary, suspicious, but I think I have enough influence with her to pull this off.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I need to kill a giant snake, but I can't find a weapon. Finally, a woman produces a long knife and beheads the snake herself. But I tell her that it's still alive, you need to destroy the brain, otherwise beheading it is just slow death by suffocation, it's cruel. I point to its eyes, which are still moving; I tell her it's suffering. She doesn't care. It's harmless now, that's all she cared about. I can't believe this. But I do my best to put it out of its misery without a weapon, until finally its eyes stop moving and its skull is crushed. I pick up head and body and carry them outside.

When I reach the door, the storyline changes - at first I was still aware I was carrying something and needed to get rid of it, but I forgot about it quickly and so the snake disappeared. I was distracted by the sight of colorful glowing orbs floating down the river, just through the trees. There's a festival going on all this week, and tonight is the children's celebration. I walk past the women handing out colored orbs for the children to light candles inside and carry down to the water, and as I walk I see a couple kids carrying their lights the wrong way, down to the sea instead of the launching place at the river. Some adults are trying to point them the right way, but the oldest kid says something about their father's ship out at sea.

A man talking about an opponent: "He had fallen on the might of (something), and he himself had fallen back and disappeared." The 'he' in question is described to me as "one of Fate's creatures," Fate being our enemy, but this guy is on a completely different level from those we've been fighting up until now. The man speaking is trying to get through to me just how serious a threat this guy is. He says this guy participated in "sanguinary" interstellar wars (that's the second time this month I've had dreams emphasize war with blood-related adjectives; seems redundant, but the dream seems to think that changes the meaning significantly), and in "civilized eras" he attached himself to prison transports, weapons transports, and managed to gain influence through this.

(Woke up, back to sleep.)

The queen of this country is always seen accompanied by three men attending her in robes, one red, one blue, one gold, all intricately embroidered in white, and I worked hard to become one of those men, but now that I've gained the position of the blue, I just feel chained down. Once we leave the Queen's presence, we're instructed by an aide to remove the robes, and with them the role we played. Such a role exists only in the Queen's presence, and it seems to me as if she exists in her own bubble, reality shifting with her presence or absence, so that she never touches the real world.

Fragments:

My roommate's watching a surreal horror movie called Repo Man starring Nic Cage and Meg Ryan. I comment that I had a dream about those two starring in a vampire movie the other night. (Which is true, I did.) I wanted to watch something else, though.

Something about David Bowie and outer space.

I'm saying "Where is all this going?" and in response the scene changes to show me and the people I'd been talking to sailing off into the sunset on a yacht.

Trying to read a document with errors in the font. When I go to change the font, I scroll past a font called 'lucid dreaming.'