Thread: Oneironut's Dream Journal

Better Than Flowers
Thursday, February 22, 2007

I’m an invisible observer at an elementary school class. There’s this one boy in the front row—a little pudgy, a little awkward—who keeps fidgeting in his seat and nervously glancing over his shoulder. I see he’s looking at a girl with black pigtails sitting several rows back from him.

He wants to bring her a gift, but all he has on his desk are pieces of a cardboard box. Taking the largest piece, the boy carefully folds and colors the cardboard until it’s an interesting abstract shape. He slowly walks back to the girl’s desk and holds the piece of cardboard out to her. She takes it and just watches him with a neutral expression. Fidgeting even more, the boy mumbles a joke about the cardboard and tries to laugh. To both our surprise, the girl smiles and laughs with him over the joke. She seems genuinely charmed by the simple gift.

Horrible night's sleep, but I managed to remember a few details:

1. Friends come over to throw a birthday party for me. We're playing a game that resembles Twister. I'm given a set of instructions for the game that I can't understand.

2. I'm relaxing on a couch reading the Sunday paper, dressed only in a robe. The couch is in the middle of a supermarket checkout area. I get up and escort some small children out of the market. One of them is a little girl the size of a toy doll. I'm afraid she'll get hurt so I pick her up and carry her. She rests her head on my shoulder and falls asleep.

3. I'm browsing a buffet trying to find something I want. On the way back to my table I see a man reach over and start eating off his companion's plate. An altercation ensues.

Dribbling (Lucid)
Tuesday, February 27, 2007

I’m running laps around the outside of a large shopping mall. It occurs to me that this is not a realistic situation for me to be in, and I start thinking “This is a dream” repeatedly. I run into the mall and become even more convinced I’m dreaming, because everything around me is straight out of the Seventies, from the clothes on display in the shop windows to the music playing over the sound system.

I continue to think “This is a dream” as I run down the length of the mall. At one point I feel like I’m dribbling a basketball, but I can’t actually see it. The music from the sound system gets louder and changes to a more modern piano piece. After a few seconds I wake up to hear piano music coming from the bedroom speakers I forgot to turn off before falling asleep.

Originally Posted by oneironut

Goal 1 - Have at least 1 lucid dream this month Done 2/27/07
Goal 2 - In my next lucid dream, spin and tell myself, "This is a dream." Almost, but not quite
[/b]

Goals Update

Goal 1 - Have at least 1 lucid dream by 3/15/07
Goal 2 - In my next lucid dream, spin and tell myself, "This is a dream."

All right!! Good job.

everything around me is straight out of the Seventies, from the clothes on display in the shop windows to the music playing over the sound system.[/b]

That's great. I want to try that sometime.

I just know you are going to meet your next goals.

Keep it up!

Originally Posted by Twoshadows

All right!! Good job.
[/b]

Thanks! Didn't want to keep you waiting any longer.

Secret Agent Man
Thursday, March 01, 2007

I’m a spy infiltrating the villain’s secret lair (I don’t know if it’s a volcano or not, but the walls are made of rock so it’s definitely underground). From the shadows I watch the villain walk onto a narrow metal platform high over a stadium-like space where a small army of men are busily working on some project. As he gives his minions a pep talk, I feel a sudden wave of nausea and vertigo. Villain or not, I get very nervous watching somebody standing unprotected at the edge of a fatal drop.

The scene shifts and I’m now at ground level in the stadium. The villain is there also, armed with an Uzi and glaring at me in a way that says it’s time to drop the subtleties and start shooting. Unfortunately my pistol doesn’t seem to work. As I fumble with it looking for a safety switch, I notice I’m wearing a silver wristwatch. Since watches are never what they seem to be in my line of work, I drop the useless pistol and point my hand at the villain. A tiny dart attached to a metal wire shoots from the watch and spins around not only the villain but several others standing nearby. They get tangled in the wire and fall to the ground, tightly bound and helpless.

I walk up to the group and look down at them. They look up at me…and then we all start laughing hysterically, like a bunch of kids that just finished a really fun game.

They look up at me…and then we all start laughing hysterically, like a bunch of kids that just finished a really fun game.[/b]

That's a funny ending. I like it.

Originally Posted by Twoshadows

That's a funny ending. I like it.
[/b]

Thanks, that sort of thing happens quite often in my dreams. Guess I just want to get along and play nice with everybody.

Stop the Damn Bus!
Friday, March 02, 2007

I’ve just attended a seminar on online searching, and it was every bit as boring as it sounds. I’m being driven home in a yellow school bus along with some of the other attendees. The young woman in the seat across from mine turns into R, and we pass the time having a dull conversation about the dull seminar.

The bus comes to a stop in the parking lot of an elementary school I went to. R’s car is parked here. Without a goodbye or anything, she gets up and exits the bus. As we pull out of the lot, I look out the window and see her frantically running after us, waving and yelling to get the bus driver’s attention. He either doesn’t notice or is deliberately ignoring her.

I yell at the driver to stop, but he ignores me too. When the bus reaches the end of the street, he finally notices R in his side mirror and gives her a mocking little wave before turning onto the next street. Cursing, I move over to R's seat and start searching all over. I figure she must have dropped her car keys. When I find them, I plan to get off this bus—even if I have to kick out the window—and get them back to her.

Shopping with the Hitcher
Tuesday, March 06, 2007

While driving across the desert, I stop at a convenience store to get a cold drink. For a place in the middle of nowhere, the store is well-stocked and very busy. As I wait in line at the register, I notice the man in front of me is the psycho from The Hitcher (the original, not the remake). I start to panic, then relax when I remember I’m in the middle of a crowded public place. Then I start to panic again, because I know that sort of thing isn’t much of a deterrent for this man.

Stepping out of line, I find one of the store employees stocking shelves and whisper a warning about who is in her store. We sneak to the back room and she tries to call the police, but nobody answers. I make my way towards the store exit as casually as I can, and get outside just in time to see a sheriff’s car pull up. The driver is your stereotypical rural lawman: casual clothes, cowboy hat, and a pistol big enough to kill a rhino.

I run up to the sheriff, babbling about the lunatic in the store. The sheriff completely ignores me and starts walking around to the back of the building. He has vanished by the time I catch up to him. It looks like it’s my problem to deal with, and as if I didn’t get the point already, I look down to see I’m dressed in the sheriff’s clothes, right down to the cowboy hat.

My Oscar Moment
Thursday, March 08, 2007

I rush into my dorm room—at least half an hour late—and throw stuff into my backpack as fast as I can. My roommate starts talking about how the textbooks we need are all sold out at the school store. As I zip up my pack and run out the door, I tell him that if this movie deal works out, I’m not going to care about the textbooks…or college, for that matter.

After a bus ride and a mad dash across campus, I arrive at the movie set. The director rushes up to me and says we have to film one more scene before the sun goes down. I’m supposed to be a Russian soldier witnessing the Battle of Stalingrad. As I get into position, I try to tell him that I don’t look the part since I’m dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and baseball cap, with my backpack still slung over one shoulder. He says don’t worry about it; he’s going to shoot the scene in close-up.

Cameras roll and I start emoting: wincing, grimacing, closing my eyes and turning away from the horror of war. From off to the side, the director yells out details to help me: “Okay, now you see somebody get decapitated!” What I’m actually seeing from my position is a pretty lake with some mountains in the distance. The glare of the setting sun makes my eyes tear up, but I figure that’ll only add to the performance.

After a few moments of this, the camera passes me from left to right, the lens only inches from my face. The camera crew makes a second pass, this time approaching from fifty feet ahead and veering off to the right. I expect that footage will end up on the editing room floor, since it’ll clearly show my modern clothes. Finally the director yells, “Cut!” and I relax. He tells me I did a great job, and I even hear a smattering of applause from the rest of the crew.

:bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo:

Originally Posted by Twoshadows

:bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo: :bravo:
[/b]

Lol. "You like me, you really like me!"


I Dream of Wii
Friday, March 09, 2007

I’m sitting at a large TV trying to play a game on a console. It looks like the Wii, but I can’t tell for sure. All I know is I’m not having any fun. The controller is an ungainly block of buttons and thumbsticks that I can’t figure out. The game on the screen is an abstract, gravity-defying mess of colors and shapes. I’m getting nauseous just looking at it. I finally shut everything off and try to pack up the console, but I can’t seem to get things back in the box the way they were originally packed.

Picking Up Around the Kitchen
Monday, March 12, 2007

A portable television on the counter keeps distracting me from my work. On screen is some made-for-TV movie involving magic, jealousy, and murder. Truly cheesy stuff, but I can’t keep my eyes off it. A sudden clatter makes me turn away, and I see pots and pans and other kitchen utensils scattered all over the tile floor.

Perhaps inspired by the movie, I reach out and point at a saucepan. It trembles and rises into the air. Guiding it with my finger, the pan floats across the kitchen and comes to rest on a nearby counter. Feeling more confident now, I try lifting two heavy pots at once. They waver a bit, but I manage to get them to their destination without dropping either.

Underneath the rest of the kitchen debris I find a circular saw blade. I pick this up too, but can’t resist having a little fun. I start to move my finger as if I’m turning pages, each motion making the blade spin faster. When it’s just a buzzing blur, I quickly point to the far wall and the blade flashes across the kitchen, sinking itself several inches deep into the wall.

From the other room, my grandmother calls out, “What are you doing in there?” Her words snap me out of my spell. “Nothing,” I quickly reply, and run over to the wall to pull the saw blade out.

The Unusual Suspect
Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I’m in a police station answering questions related to a murder investigation. The detective questioning me looks like actor Jon Polito. I’m very comfortable and relaxed because I know I had nothing to do with the crime. This must all be nothing more than a formality. After a while, the detective says we’re finished, thanks me for my time, and offers to escort me to the station entrance.

As we pass an office door, he asks if I’d mind waiting a moment while he takes care of something. I wander about while he goes into the office. I hear the sound of somebody slamming down a rubber stamp, and the detective emerges from the office with a handful of stamped documents and a sly smile on his face. I somehow realize I’ve been formally charged with the murder.

Still smiling, the detective grabs me by the arm and leads us back the way we came. I give up my right to remain silent by screaming obscenities, threatening to sue the entire police department into oblivion, and detailing the various disgusting, menial jobs the detective will earn his living by when his law enforcement career is in ruins.

The scene shifts wildly, and when everything settles back into place it’s a childhood friend who’s been arrested. The detective is escorting him through a shopping mall, and I’m following along to lend my friend moral support. Something in a nearby store catches the detective’s eye, and he goes over to the display window to look. When he turns back, my friend is gone.

I’m practically doubled over laughing as I watch the detective quickly scan the crowd, searching for his lost suspect. His expression is calm, but the panic is clearly visible in his eyes. I tease him a bit about what an idiot he is, then casually stroll away. As I approach the mall exit, I hear a voice behind me call out my name. I turn just in time to see my friend sprint past me like an Olympic hopeful. I cheer and tell him to run like hell.

Exiting the mall, I find myself in a strange city late at night. Next to me is a high wall that runs out to the parking lot. I jump onto it and run along its length, flying into the sky when I reach the end. As I soar into the night, the city’s lights spread out far below, I hear the screeching noise The Lost Boys make when they fly.

Guess I wasn’t wrongfully accused, after all.

No recall today and I missed my goals, but that's alright...I have an endless supply.

Originally Posted by oneironut

Goal 1 - Have at least 1 lucid dream by 3/15/07 Not Done
Goal 2 - In my next lucid dream, spin and tell myself, "This is a dream." Not Done
[/b]

Goals Update

Goal 1 - Have at least 1 lucid dream by 3/31/07
Goal 2 - In my next lucid dream, spin and tell myself, "This is a dream."

Originally Posted by oneironut

Picking Up Around the Kitchen

Damn those messy rooms. I'm sick of messiness in my dreams. Perhaps I'll employ your telekenetic method of cleaning next time around... or call you over to help me clean. No saws or other power tools allowed though.

Nice set of goals you got there. Number one is number one on my list too.
We'll get there.

Originally Posted by Vex

Damn those messy rooms. I'm sick of messiness in my dreams. Perhaps I'll employ your telekenetic method of cleaning next time around... or call you over to help me clean. No saws or other power tools allowed though.

Nice set of goals you got there. Number one is number one on my list too.
We'll get there.

[/b]

Lol, for some reason it never registered that I was cleaning house in that dream. QUICK, REALITY CHECK! I just read your journal for today and it looks like you got there already; nice job on that WILD.


I rarely have full-blown nightmares, but I'd say today's entry more than qualifies.

Horror Hotel
Friday, March 16, 2007

The entire floor of the hotel suite is covered with an oozing carpet of red slime. I’m kneeling on the kitchenette counter, trying to stay as still and silent as possible because I think this shit is alive. Every few seconds a tendril of the stuff rises from the greater mass and circles about, as if searching for me. The slime eventually crawls up and over the counter. I can feel it flowing between my fingers, soaking into my pants and shoes. Don’t move, don’t move!

I have to try, though. Ever so slowly, I ease myself down from the counter and start towards the door. From the suite’s other room emerges a red-haired woman wearing a dirty apron. I can tell by her eyes that she is completely mad and about to attack. The only weapons I have are a toy gun and an axe the size of a pizza slicer, so I hold them out threateningly. She stops advancing long enough for me to exit the suite, leaving a trail of red footprints on the doorstep.

As soon as I’m in the hallway, I have a companion: a petite woman in her sixties dressed in a dark sweater and blue jeans. We make our way down the hall together, searching for an exit. The woman enters one of the other suites, and I have no choice but to follow. The floor is clear and the rest of the suite is empty. The woman starts raiding the kitchenette for food and supplies while I stand guard nearby.

Suddenly I see a flash of motion behind the woman and hear the horrible sound of ripping cloth and flesh. Something unseen just cut the woman wide open from behind, and her face grows pale and slack in death. A little hamper next to the woman flips open, and a nearly transparent arm reaches out and tries to pull the body in after it. I turn and run in a blind panic. The last sounds I hear are the woman’s bones breaking as her corpse is forced into the hamper.

Wow. That was pretty f'ckin twisted.
I can just picture that hand pulling the woman into the small opening of the hamper. It's just as scary, that you could only hear it, though.

Originally Posted by Oneironaut

Wow. That was pretty f'ckin twisted.
[/b]

I couldn't have said it better myself. Most of my nightmare scenarios involve things I can't see, but this was far worse because I had the sound effects to help my imagination fill in the blanks.


No Dark Sarcasm in the Classroom
Saturday, March 17, 2007

I recognize the writing on the scraps of paper as my own: titles, authors, call numbers. As I’m shuffling the stack, a student assistant stops at my desk and leaves a pile of books and pamphlets. I start matching each slip with the appropriate item. Looks like I made some smart choices; all of the books are so thin I should have no problem reading them before the deadline.

I glance up from my work at the grim old man scowling at us from his desk at the front of the room. The professor is a skeletal figure in horn-rimmed glasses, all tweed and black robes. He turns his gaze from us as the classroom door opens and a boy enters in a swirl of snow and wind. The professor tells the boy that he’s late for class and will have to wait outside for the remainder of the session. For a moment the boy just stands there, his face flushed, but then he resignedly goes back out into the cold.

The professor stands and starts moving about the room. When he’s over in the far corner, some boys sitting near me lean their heads close and start whispering. I can tell they’re just exchanging the usual insults about the old bastard, and it makes me angry. I try to cut in on the conversation, try to tell them they can do more—a lot more—than whisper insults, but I’m always interrupted before I can get a word in.

There’s a flash of red to my left, and I turn to see her sitting down at the desk beside mine. Oh, she’s beautiful, stunning, a Hollywood starlet walking right off the screen: wavy brown hair to her shoulders, skin so smooth and white it glows under the harsh fluorescent lights, a slinky red dress that burns through our coarse, drab uniforms. She looks at me and smiles in recognition.

Then the professor’s shadow falls over her, and I can only sit there and watch as he quietly tears into her with words. She seems to wilt beneath his verbal lashings, until finally she sits slumped in the chair, staring at her desk top with an empty expression. I’ve never, ever, wanted to hurt somebody more than I do at this moment, but I can’t do a thing. Not yet, I can’t.

Satisfied with the job he’s done, the professor returns to his desk. The girl slowly turns to me…and flashes a quick smile and wink before putting her mask of hollow defeat back on. Stifling a laugh, I also return to my meaningless sorting task while I think, and plan, and wait.

I had my third lucid dream a short while ago, and this time completed my goal action. This was the second night of giving MILD another shot, a technique I tried years ago and did not care for. I'd consider this a come-from-behind victory, because I encountered the same problem with MILD that I did back then: trouble falling back to sleep. Thankfully I managed to conk out sometime after 3 so I could have the LD below.


Spin Cycle (Lucid)
Tuesday, March 20, 2007

After wandering about the hotel lobby, I go through a door and find myself in a dim corridor. At the end is another door leading to a small room with cinderblock walls. On the wall ahead of me is a bank of washing machines that rattle and thump their way through a cycle. Against the wall to my left is an old yellow refrigerator. Milling about the room are several men dressed in dirty white t-shirts and overalls. I assume they’re part of the hotel’s maintenance staff.

I suddenly realize that I’m dreaming. Worried that I’ll wake up before I can accomplish my goal, I immediately hold out my arms, spin in place, and tell myself, “This is a dream.” I stop spinning and the dream continues, so I glance around. One of the maintenance men looks like his hair is wet, because it’s plastered flat against his head. He’s kind of scary looking, but gives me a friendly smile, so I smile back and say hello. I spin one more time for good measure. At this point my lucidity starts to fade. I go running mindlessly through a few more rooms and wake up shortly after.

Originally Posted by oneironut

Goal 1 - Have at least 1 lucid dream by 3/31/07 Done
Goal 2 - In my next lucid dream, spin and tell myself, "This is a dream." Done
[/b]

An assumed goal for all future LDs is to perform this spinning action, not only to stabilize the dream, but also to keep my mind from wandering. Otherwise, my next set of goals is to test each of my senses. I thought it would be interesting to use a single object for all of these tests. Since I enjoy them IRL, I chose apples.

Goals Update

Goal 1 - Have at least one more lucid dream this month
Goal 2 - Find an apple and look at it closely. Do not touch or eat it.

Good job. That's great that you were able to complete your goals!

So did you do the WBTB method with your MILD? That's how I have had my best success. But sometimes I also have trouble getting back to sleep in time to squeeze out an LD.

And I also like your new set of goals. Good luck with them.

Originally Posted by Twoshadows

Good job. That's great that you were able to complete your goals!

So did you do the WBTB method with your MILD? That's how I have had my best success. But sometimes I also have trouble getting back to sleep in time to squeeze out an LD.

And I also like your new set of goals. Good luck with them.
[/b]

Thanks as always for the encouragement. I finally had to search the forum for "WBTB" to find out what everybody's been talking about. That method is definitely not for me; if I W for too long during the night, it's impossible for me to get BTB.


Although I didn't get lucid last night, MILD worked a bit better in that I became alert enough to practice while still falling asleep quickly. As long as I continue getting enough rest, I'll stick with MILD since it already worked once.

Werewolves and All That Jazz
Wednesday, March 21, 2007

I’m waiting in line to buy an admission ticket for a small, out of the way jazz club. I can see the club’s interior through the entrance next to the ticket booth; it’s crowded, run down, and filled with a smoky haze. But that’s what makes it so cool!

Finally reaching the front of the line, I ask the lady running the ticket booth how much it costs to get in. She doesn’t answer, so I take a five and a single and push it to her through a slot. She pushes the money back and tells me she needs exact change. Again I ask her how much, and this time all she does is touch her two index fingers together for a few seconds before moving them away from each other. This must be some special signal that everybody else understands, but I don’t and I’m getting angry. I decide I don’t want to get in after all and step out of line.

The club is in the center of a small village surrounded by dark snowy woods. Suddenly filled with a sense of danger, I fly up into the air and hover fifty feet or so above the ground. As I watch, a pair of werewolves run from the woods and start attacking random villagers. I’m horrified by the sight but grateful that at least I’m safe. That’s when I hear a snarl and see a werewolf’s jaws snap shut just inches from my foot.
I try to gain altitude but can’t, so I fly evasively as the werewolf makes leap after leap trying to pull me back to earth.

Chew Toy
Thursday, March 22, 2007

A horrible screeching roar echoes through the house as I run from room to room, trying to find a place to hide and avoid being eaten. The room I’m currently in, like all the others before it, is completely empty. I hear snuffling sounds coming from not far down the hall. Pressing myself into the corner next to the door, I try to remember if this thing can see you when you move or not.

Claws click on the wood floor just outside the room, then stop abruptly. A sleek scaly head peeks around the door, reptilian eyes focusing right on me. Velociraptor. Oh…shit. I instinctively throw my left arm up to my face as the dinosaur lunges, and its jaws clamp down hard on my hand. There’s no pain or blood, and for a moment I just stare at the creature that’s trying to chew up my hand.

The raptor pulls me out of the corner and starts thrashing its head wildly, tossing me around like a rag doll. I quickly get tired of all this, so I manage to work my left thumb and fingertips free and get a grip on the raptor’s lower jaw. Then I reach out with my right hand and get hold of its upper jaw. Then dinosaur bones break with a satisfying snap as I quickly pull my hands apart and nearly tear the raptor’s head in half.

Originally Posted by oneironut

Werewolves and All That Jazz
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
[/b]

Urk, why is it that dream cashiers have to be so frustrating and unhelpful? This sort of thing happens to me all the time.

Nice job on the spinning lucid, and on beating up the velociraptor. Your last dream reminded me strongly of this comic, for some reason.

Yeah, those raptors are badass. I think out of any "movie monsters" ever, the Jurassic Park portrayal of those things are some of my all-time favorites. They were just plain wicked.