Nkafke's Realm

[NkafKe]

My first official post here, we'll see how this goes. A little about myself, it seems I've been in the awareness state of LD for about 5 years now, but never really heard of lucid dreaming until about six months ago. I'm pretty sure what triggered it was a conversation I was having with a few friends, how they all said it's impossible to read things in your dream, you just see a garble and your brain tells itself it says something. But I knew for a fact that I could clearly read, wether letters or numbers. I have also never seen any part of my body in any of my dreams. Also, everyone says you dream pretty much everynight, and usually have multiple dreams, you just can't remember them. To this day I insist I dream about once every other week. Either that, or I'm somehow not in my own dreams most of the time (out of out of body experience?). But when I do dream, I can remember every single detail, to the letter This is the dream I had 4 nights ago, and is the first time I'm documenting it: I'm walking through the international section of Los Angeles airport, which seems to have taken on features from Tokyo Intl (im from philly but have flown through LAX and tokyo on multiple occasions). To my right is the exits, which lead out the the street, and to my left are all the check-in counters. I'm not paying particular attention to anything, just making my way to the concessions to get some food. I pass 5 rows of check-in counters and head for the escalator to the second floor. The crowd is particularly light and is comprised of the usual generic travelers that occupy any airport (one thing I noticed after I woke up was a lack of vibrant colored clothing, mostly earth tones and greys). I approach a small ice-cream shop, third in line. The first person is just finishing up paying the only person who seems to be working there at the moment. In front of me is a woman with brown and blonde hair, pulled up into a makeshift bun. She looks to be about my age (24-27), is wearing a muted pink tank top made of something soft (cotton), grey sweatpants, and black/brown beach sandals. She's also carrying a small black backpack over her left shoulder. I seemingly took all this in in only a few seconds as my eyes went to the display case. The only thing I could see among all the varieties was a brownie-sundae...which I love. It was obviously just a display version, which meant the girl behind the counter was going to have to make it for me, which is where the dream seems to develop a 'plot' I guess. The girl in front of me pays and walks off, and I approach the vendor. She looks relatively young, maybe 19, with blonde hair done up similar to the first girl, but shorter. She's wearing the company's standard read visor-cap, faded red shirt, black pants, and a red apron. I ask her for the sundae, and she says she can't make it. "I'm not designated to make that." Designated? What the hell are you talking about? 'Do you know how?' "Of course" 'Ok, so make me one.' "I told you, I cannot." She then pulls out a clear, super-thin pane of flexible glass. Its about 5 inches tall and over a foot long. It reads: 0110.D10.GTS.1110 "See, my hithograph does not allow me to make second tier desserts." I take it from her, studying it. At this point, she and the patrons behind me are looking at me rather curiously, so I take my leave. I walk outside, not to the road, but a side entrance that leads to what appears to be a large park. The sky is a hazy light blue, without a cloud in the sky. The sidewalk is concrete with tons of small smooth stones on the surface, it extends about 15 feet in front of me, then circles a large stone monument of the same grey material, then splits off the divide the dark green grass in four exact quadrants. The base of the stone is circled with a bench. A woman sits just to the right of center of my view, dressed in shades of grey, reading a book. Walking on the sidewalk that heads left of my view is a normal businessman, dressed in a black suit carrying his breifcase. I approach the woman and ask to see her hithograph. Before she hands it to me I mention I don't have one, at which point she takes pause, seemingly confused. She professes that's impossible, everyone has one. Again she sits, looking confused. Its as if she's trying to comprehend that someone in this completely structured, sterile world is existing in it without abiding by its rules (not to be taken as a rebel, more like someone who seems to be disobeying everything you know just by standing there). Suddenly it's later, and I'm seeing things from someone else's perspective: a law enforcement official on a motorcycle, pulling up alongside a woman who is speeding on a scooter. It's the same woman I saw earlier...as much as the cop tells her to pull over, flashing his lights and waving his hand, she doesn't even seem to notice him. The speedometer on her scooter (which seems to be in some sort of format similiar to the hithograph) tops off at 11111, and the cop moves in to ram her from the side. This is where I woke up, not quite sure what to think about the dream...

[sweetshoes18]

My first official post here, we'll see how this goes. A little about myself, it seems I've been in the awareness state of LD for about 5 years now, but never really heard of lucid dreaming until about six months ago. I'm pretty sure what triggered it was a conversation I was having with a few friends, how they all said it's impossible to read things in your dream, you just see a garble and your brain tells itself it says something. But I knew for a fact that I could clearly read, wether letters or numbers. I have also never seen any part of my body in any of my dreams. Also, everyone says you dream pretty much everynight, and usually have multiple dreams, you just can't remember them. To this day I insist I dream about once every other week. Either that, or I'm somehow not in my own dreams most of the time (out of out of body experience?). But when I do dream, I can remember every single detail, to the letter This is the dream I had 4 nights ago, and is the first time I'm documenting it: I'm walking through the international section of Los Angeles airport, which seems to have taken on features from Tokyo Intl (im from philly but have flown through LAX and tokyo on multiple occasions). To my right is the exits, which lead out the the street, and to my left are all the check-in counters. I'm not paying particular attention to anything, just making my way to the concessions to get some food. I pass 5 rows of check-in counters and head for the escalator to the second floor. The crowd is particularly light and is comprised of the usual generic travelers that occupy any airport (one thing I noticed after I woke up was a lack of vibrant colored clothing, mostly earth tones and greys). I approach a small ice-cream shop, third in line. The first person is just finishing up paying the only person who seems to be working there at the moment. In front of me is a woman with brown and blonde hair, pulled up into a makeshift bun. She looks to be about my age (24-27), is wearing a muted pink tank top made of something soft (cotton), grey sweatpants, and black/brown beach sandals. She's also carrying a small black backpack over her left shoulder. I seemingly took all this in in only a few seconds as my eyes went to the display case. The only thing I could see among all the varieties was a brownie-sundae...which I love. It was obviously just a display version, which meant the girl behind the counter was going to have to make it for me, which is where the dream seems to develop a 'plot' I guess. The girl in front of me pays and walks off, and I approach the vendor. She looks relatively young, maybe 19, with blonde hair done up similar to the first girl, but shorter. She's wearing the company's standard read visor-cap, faded red shirt, black pants, and a red apron. I ask her for the sundae, and she says she can't make it. "I'm not designated to make that." Designated? What the hell are you talking about? 'Do you know how?' "Of course" 'Ok, so make me one.' "I told you, I cannot." She then pulls out a clear, super-thin pane of flexible glass. Its about 5 inches tall and over a foot long. It reads: 0110.D10.GTS.1110 "See, my hithograph does not allow me to make second tier desserts." I take it from her, studying it. At this point, she and the patrons behind me are looking at me rather curiously, so I take my leave. I walk outside, not to the road, but a side entrance that leads to what appears to be a large park. The sky is a hazy light blue, without a cloud in the sky. The sidewalk is concrete with tons of small smooth stones on the surface, it extends about 15 feet in front of me, then circles a large stone monument of the same grey material, then splits off the divide the dark green grass in four exact quadrants. The base of the stone is circled with a bench. A woman sits just to the right of center of my view, dressed in shades of grey, reading a book. Walking on the sidewalk that heads left of my view is a normal businessman, dressed in a black suit carrying his breifcase. I approach the woman and ask to see her hithograph. Before she hands it to me I mention I don't have one, at which point she takes pause, seemingly confused. She professes that's impossible, everyone has one. Again she sits, looking confused. Its as if she's trying to comprehend that someone in this completely structured, sterile world is existing in it without abiding by its rules (not to be taken as a rebel, more like someone who seems to be disobeying everything you know just by standing there). Suddenly it's later, and I'm seeing things from someone else's perspective: a law enforcement official on a motorcycle, pulling up alongside a woman who is speeding on a scooter. It's the same woman I saw earlier...as much as the cop tells her to pull over, flashing his lights and waving his hand, she doesn't even seem to notice him. The speedometer on her scooter (which seems to be in some sort of format similiar to the hithograph) tops off at 11111, and the cop moves in to ram her from the side. This is where I woke up, not quite sure what to think about the dream... [/b] I do not have time right now to type what I think about the dream, but I must say before I leave. I am shocked at how much detail you remember in your dreams. You have a gift my friend