Ave Maria, Aliens and Time Travel
I fell asleep last night wondering about dreamsharing and thinking about who i'd love to do it with. I decided that if I became lucid I would just create a pseudo friend (DC) to keep me company. What follows is the dream(s) that emerged. I can't tell if it was one dream or two. They seemed to flow fluidly.
Last night. Non-lucid.
My eyes are closed because it's too bright to see. I open them and keep them lowered to the ground. There is water at my feet and mud under my heel. I'm wearing blue Chuck Taylors and suddenly I know I'm in high school again, and in Victorville. I tell myself that the sun is always "So damn bright--jesus, even when it's cloudy out here. I should buy some sunglasses."
I recognize the riverbed--the Mojave River and I watch the fresh water drift away from me--it's all so soothing and harmonious. The birds over head are finding shelter in the rocks; the breeze sways the weeds of the neighboring meadow, and I can see it's going to rain soon.
I turn around to see my high school boyfriend sitting on a rock poking mud with a stick, and I'm filled with this immense happiness. I remember this day! This is the day we kissed in the rain.
Knowing what is about to happen, I feel playful. I can see the mud on his shoes and the dirt on his sweater--I recognize the moment.
I want to kiss him. I can already feel him.
I sneak up behind him as if I was two years old,
but I'm five steps away when I remember we're broken up and he's gay
and I've misinterpreted the moment.
I'm stuck in the wrong memory. Suddenly there is a flash and i see an old diary entry ruined with tear drops. A rain drop falls on my hair and I'm back in the present.
I'm an immature seventeen year old inside. I want to cry, I want to run, I want to hurt him as much as he's hurt me.
"What are you doing here?" i yell. "This is my place."
He keeps his back turned to me, keeps poking the stick in the mud, he's drawing something.
"This is OUR place."
I walk closer to him. I see his side profile. The sun comes out from behind the clouds for just a moment. It illuminates him. There is nothing but pain inside--it makes my whole body ache and every last bit of my will is working hard to stop the shaking
to stop the tears.
His eyes are cast to the ground. There is no blinking, no slight flutter of the lashes.
He is perfectly still.
I realize that I'm not the only one who has lost something here and my empathy goes to the life he's going to live from now on--because I know how hard it is to be different.
I place my hand on his shoulder and neither of us move--on my part because he's ice cold.
I come to the slow realization that this is not my exboyfriend--this is not even human.
It stands upright and leviates above the rock it was perched on. It is inhabiting his body, his skin--but it is naked,with no organs or nipples or texture--that word comes to mind as I look at it.
It's eyes are this deep and incredibly dark black. I blink and it's sitting on the bolder again, fully clothed and looking human, but the eyes persist.
And then he speaks:
"This is only a moment in time. A moment of many that are, many that were. And in your life there are many more that will come. And as this did, so will those inspire you. To think or feel or be.
There are many other experiences to be had on your world. You musn't return to this one any longer. There is no logical reasoning behind such an action. The numbers compose no favorable gain. Your own mathematics attest to its uselessness."
Here things get fuzzy.
He begins to sing what I recognize as the Latin Hail Mary: "Ahhhhhhhhh-vehhh Mari------------------ah..."
A record player appears on a near by rock and he lowers the needle.
A symphony is playing in my eardrums, it's coming from all angles
there is a blinding white light and I'm surrounded in white nothingness. The music goes on keeps playing. It is still singing.
I blink away the light and find myself in darkess again, but ahead of me are moving images.
I'm a businesswoman and I look amazing. I'm 45 and in a pencil skirt and in front of a board of old white balding men. Eveything in the scene is black, white, gray, cold.
I have a suit case, I catch a plane. And the music continues to play. I'm drinking a martini and unbuttoning my blouse. A younger man sits beside me, takes down notes, answers calls. He is my assistant. The pilot retreates to his cabin.
I grab my assistant by the lapels and kiss behind his ear and grab his thigh.
darkness
and I'm in a hotel room smoking. My assitant is buttoning up his shirt.
I get the sense that I die alone, though financially wealthy.
Darkness and I'm full of regret.
I'm a young English professor at NYU
I've got glasses and boheme attire.
I'm dating the Physics Professor
He drives us home.
We live in Morningside.
There is a neat little living room set, and i sit and scratch his scalp as he turns on the news and tells me about his day. And the music continues to play.
I can tell he loves me, and I know I love him.
There is darkness and I feel a sense of peace.
Tiles. Hundreds and hundreds of white tiles. They turn blue, they turn black, they are checkered. Moving, moving at a high speed. Faster and faster and
Linoleum.
Immobile Linoleum.
my sneakers.
I am a doctor. This is my patient's room. I'm in Ohio.
There is paper work. POV vision. A clipboard.
I'm leaving. There is a meeting. AIDS in Africa, genocide in Darfur, genital mutilation in Malasia. And the music continues to play.
Work is my priority, I am alone and hardly see my family.
Darkness and I know I died living life that way. I feel a sense of urgency.
Flashing lights
dancers
a curtain
I look to my side and a man with a mustache smiles and says "You're up in 2."
I'm sitting by a well lit mirror, I've got a wig on. My hands fall to my lap and I feel the lace on my skirt. My name is called and i rush to the stage.
There are thousands of eyes watching me and suddenly I know that i'm an actress on broadway in "The Importance of Being Earnest."
And the music continues to play.
There is a man in the first row, holding a sleeping toddler. And I know he's my husband.
Darkness again. This time I know I was very happy.
But the darkness doesn't lift this time.
I look around and the screen is a blank whiteness that oddly enough produces little light.
I panic a little.
I start to feel around.
I'm sitting.
A light comes in through a doorway behind me. A shadow stands in it.
"Honey?"
I realize I'm in a theater.
"Vanessa, are you ready to go?"
I can't make out its voice, but I know it's male.
I wake up.
Soooo weird.
Dream Number ONE of the Night
LUCID!!! in green. Dream state before hand....I'm gonna go with orange.
I couldn't sleep so I did that whole meditating thing i've done since i was a kid, where I make things appear in my head. Kinda like the darkness (when my eyes are closed) is a blank canvas and I just will colors to appear. After a while the colors fade and I begin to think of Kianna Alarid and how amazingly attractive she is.
I get out of bed, but when I return to it it's lighter outside and I think, Jesus did I stay up ALL night? Shit I have school today.
I slip under the covers and Kianna is beside me wrapped up in my blanket, still wearing her undershirt from the show. Holy shit, I think, I'm dreaming. Yes!! Yesss Yes!!!!! i worry about waking her, but then decide that she won't wake up until i want her to and so, i do a little "hurrah, I'm lucid!" victory dance. But then things begin to feel unstable, and so i decide that maybe the dream gods (more like dream karma) isn't too thrilled about me being cocky. So i slow down and concentrate on observing the scene. I can see her body move as she's breathing. I move to get closer to her but suddenly i feel really dirty. No, i say aloud. I want to be alone. She disappears and there is no trace that she was ever there. the bed is perfectly made. I crawl into bed and decide to SLEEP of all things. So i do.
I woke up and it took me a few seconds to realize that I was actually awake and not once again dreaming. I really need new reality check methods.
Last Night's Dreams (as written in my Moleskin)
I had two more dreams after the latter one a DILD, which ended promptly and a non lucid. I didn't have time to reach the computer so i wrote them in my hard copy DJ. Also
This is my first time recalling 3 dreams in one night!!!!
Here they are:
DILD: Well, that sucked.
To understand yesterday's DILD you need some background:
About a month ago I had a very vivid, very frightening lucid nightmare. I was in front of this big old, gold painted, victorian looking vanity mirror+drawer type of piece. It was atop a desolate cliff, and everything else in the scene--even me--was shades of dark blue, black, and gray. There was this darkness that manifested into a body--sort of like a shadow, but much more dense. There was one in the mirror, behaving as my reflection (my actual reflection was nowhere in sight) and another right beside me, to my right, gripping my right wrist, hurting me BADLY. It didn't have a reflection either, so I got the sense that they were two seperate manifiestations of the same force. It was a WILD so i knew i was dreaming, but i was too awestruck and much too afraid to concentrate enough to stop the scene. The grip on my wrist felt so real. I was terrified. i tried to close my eyes, but my eyelids became transparent and i became even more horrified at the fact that i couldn't make them disappear, even for an instant. I started screaming to myself: "Wake up! Wake up! Please wake up!" Everything went black and my eyes were open in the darkness of the room, so I wasn't sure if i was actually awake. I suddenly became very aware of the great pain in my right wrist, it was still there. I noted that I had been sleeping with my right hand underneath my pillow. I went into the bathroom and turned on the light. It was almost purple. I had cut off my circulation pretty badly.
The actual DILD that I had last night was based on this dream. After talking to many DV'ers about my fear of the dark and the extent of consequences in lucid dreams I decided that if I ever came across that darkness again, i'd face it.
This was the second dream of the night (after the punching bag, monologue dream) and it went like this:
I'm in a forrest, near a river and everything in the scene, even me is in shades of dark blue, black and gray. I'm walking along the river, expecting to be scared out of my wits by the slightest thing, because I can't believe how dark it is, though, to be fair, the moonlight is illuminating most of the scene--but it doesn't help much. I'm already creeped out. I make my way into the trees because it seems brighter behind them, and i find myself elevated. I can see other hills and a far off mountain range. there are no sounds, which is strange for a forrest. all i can hear is the running water and the occasional gusts of wind. There is something standing in the middle of the landscape towards a cliff and i go towards it, hoping it might be someone who can break the silence and tell me where i am. But as i get closer, i see that the object isn't alive at all, it looks like a piece of furniture. I walk up to it and see that it's a big vanity drawer set, painted gold with carved textures along the frame of the mirror. It looks old. And it seems strange. I put my hand to the glass.
Holy shit...I'm dreaming.
As soon as i say it the darkness appears first as an entity on the edge of the cliff and then, when i turn to run--another entity right behind me. I'm stuck. I'm scared. I can't concentrate. But i remember what i have to do and for some reason a quote i read somewhere pops into my head
"Behind every fear awaits a freedom." This time i can close my eyes but it makes things feel unstable and i feel like i'm not in control enough to change things. I begin to spin, because a friend says it helps, but soon enough I can't control the spin. Everything becomes fuzzy, blurs together.
I lose my balance and start to fall and then do---
right into my bed, so to speak, with a jolt and i feel like i've just fallen 10 feet.
I take a second to catch my breath, realize i'm no longer dreaming--then I laugh at the irony of "falling awake."
Non lucid
I'm some sort of a cabaret singer, a'la Thalia Sodi' in attire and demeanor. I'm smoking a cigar and taking sips of rum off stage, fraternizing with the customers. An older gentleman comes up to me and hands me a large sum of money in pesos.
I lead him to the back room of the parlor. "Your usual?" I ask.
"Si porfavor." (Means "Yes, please." in Spanish.)
"Lorena!" I holler, and almost instantaneously, a girl emerges from behind the curtains. She looks fairly young, about 17.
She curtsies and motions to a room.
"Encantada, por aca, si es tan amable."
(meaning: "I'm enchanted. This way, if you could be so kind." )
As soon as he disappears behind the door, we can hear his pants come undone.
We're both disgusted. "All in a days work." she says,lighting a cigarette and suddenly she seems older, like an old soul. "This is going to take all night. But at least this one's gentle."
"There's the silver lining."
"I'm getting an advance tomorrow right?"
"All yours," I say. I get the sense that there is a good bond between us. I begin to fix her hair and say "Si el idiota de Felipe aparece, ni pienses dos segundos antes de llamarme. (If that idiot Philip shows up, don't think two seconds before getting me.) I expose the underside of my skirt to show a small hand gun.
"Nadie nos trata asi. (Nobody treats us [us meaning prostitutes in general] like that.)" I say.
"Ahora si puedo trabajar con calma. (Now I can relax and work in peace)" she says and puts her cigarette out. She gives me a playful look before she slips into the room.
That's it.
I can't believe I was a Spanish pimp--erm "madam."
One of those dreams that leave me feeling too uneasy to fall asleep again.
Camera vision. A red curtain and a wooden floor that leads up to a stool with a torn black cushion. I can see the cotton filling oozing out the side. An ample bottom (or at least from that angle) sits atop the stool in a flowing green skirt.
And then, music.
A guitar strums and keeps strumming, building up to a consistent rhythm.
and then, a voice sings:
"Hot breath. Rough skin. Warm laughs and smilin'..."
My vision scans the dirty, chipped black tile floor.
The room is somewhat smokey and there are candles on every table--but the audience remains in the dark.
"The loveliest words, whispered and meant, you like all these things..."
I'm standing in the back of the room, right before an exit door and all i see is a wave of back-of-heads bobbing to the rhythm.
"But though you like all these things---"
On stage is a woman, in her late twenties with deep green attire, a blouse that seems to be made of silk and a 1920's flapper bob colored the blackest black i'd ever seen.
"You love a stone. Oh you love a stone--"
Her lips are red and prudent and put the velvet curtain behind her to shame
"Because it's smooth. And it's cold.--"
I can't tell if her eyes are cast downward or if the shadow of her bangs are keeping them from me.
"And you'd love most, to be told that it's all your own."
She's captivating, but I'm more curious about the fact that no one can seem to look away from her--the guitar goes on and the audience hums along.--Except for one man.
"You love white veins, you love hard gray. The heaviest weight. The clumsiest shape.
The earthiest smell
The hollowest tone--"
Here she looks up and I miss her face, but the gentleman I'm staring at notices her and I can feel his skin tense. He holds his head low--looks away.
"You love a stone."
i stop in my tracks because the audience suddenly makes me uneasy. The singer must have noticed too, because her momentum builds and her emotion is palpable.
"And i'm found too fast!
Called too fond of flames!
And i'm phoning my friends,
And I'm shouldering the blame
While you're picking pebbles out of a drain
miles ago..."
The softness in her voice floats to the back of the room and I can see the waves of sound slither through the walls.
The gentleman has wavy blonde hair and a sleekness about his style. I'm standing right next to him and he's completely nonchalant. But the song continues:
"You're out singing songs
I'm down shouting names--"
She stands and I can't see anything but the tears on her cheeks.
The gentleman puts on a pair of dark sunglasses.
"--at the flickerless screen,
going fucking insane!"
And in the darkness I realize this song's meant for him.
So I hold his hand, but he doesn't acknowledge it.
"Am I losing my cool? Overstating my case?
Well, baby, what can I say?..."
I suddenly become very angry with the singer.
"You know i never claimed..."
And I charge the stage, make my way through the crowded tables.
"That i was a stone...And you love a stone.."
And I finally get to the foot of the stage, and there she is.
Singing and
strumming and
standing three feet above me.
"Hey!" I yell.
"Because it's dark...and it's old."
but she's not paying attention to me, which angers me more.
"and you'd like most
to be told
that it's all your own."
I rush up the side steps of the stage. And stop dead.
"You love white veins! You love hard gray!" she continues.
But i've recognized the sticker on her guitar.
"Ellanore?" [Ellanore is the name of MY guitar.]
The vocalist raises her head and i see her eyes.
My eyes.
"The heaviest weight!
The clumsiest shape!"
And the angle shifts. POV and those are MY hands strumming, MY black bob bangs in my face, my red lipstick, my green skirt.
"the earthiest smell,"
My heartache leaning against the back wall of the room.
"the hollowest tone," I place the guitar on the stool, but the music keeps going, though now it's playing inside my head, inaccessible to the audience.
you love a stone...
and as i walk through, the house lights reveal
that the chairs are full of giant marionettes
holding cigarettes and whiskey
posing in their chairs.
you love a stone...
So I sip their whiskey
and steal a cigarette
light it with their candles
and place it between my lips
you love a stone...
that stain it's rolled paper
And I walk directly to the gentleman in the back
Because it's dark...and it's cold...
And breathe out one last cloud of smoke
And if it could start,
Before I put the cigarette out
on his cheek.
being alive,
The wood of his head sizzles under the ash. leaving a small circle on his cheekbone.
You'd start living alone.
I kiss the gentleman marionette lightly on his wooden lips
and exit.
I woke in the middle of a night, from a vivid dream
But was too tired to write it down or stay awake for too long.
I woke up again this morning, knowing I'd dreamt, because i could remember the computer labs in my dream--but what happened or who was there is a blur.
I do know that there was a group of people with me, predominantly male and I think one of them was a sort of commanding officer or something with authority, to me.
I'll see if anything else comes to me.
Campus Sex and a Near Lucid.
It was Cal for sure.
I'd know that setting anywhere; it was the redwoods that gave it away.
This night was one of those blue black nights. where everything is so covered in moonlight, that the darkness is transparent and holds jurisdiction just above the skyline.
I'm with a girl. We're holding hands.
It's after a coffee date.
Our hands copulate, and i can see the red of her hair--she's dressed in black
black blouse
black jeans
black jacket
black boots
Assorted pieces of nature stick to her hair and dangle there.
i pay no mind and neither does she. I start to think about how completely useless it is that she's wearing pants, because a quickie is so much easier in a skirt
And when i look past her torso, i see a newly materialized pleated skirt and think "ah, that's better."
I get back to kissing. To the distinct feeling that we both really want to be there. My body undergoes transformations. My mind back tracks through my chronological Rolodex of intimate encounters.
My hands run the length of her legs and I become
my first boyfriend
my nervous straight girl
my bi curious gay-mate.
And while my mouth is busy I become intrigued
with the corollating changes in my surroundings.
It's black and white
and then technicolor
And her skin changes on cue
pink nipples
light grey
dark hair
darker.
and my mind is split, between thinking logically about what's happening
and letting my animalistic instinct take over.
"I don't give a shit if the sky is falling" i start to say---
and all around us stars crash through the atmosphere and fizzle, sinking, into the ground, surrounding us.
But she's moaning
and i'm moaning
and my hands are everywhere they need to be
I reach forward to kiss her mouth and my body sinks into the dirt.
She's gone. And before I wonder how the earth sucked her in--i realize she was never there to begin with.
Recurring Dream: Catwoman
I keep having this dream. Even when I'm day dreaming, because it's just so damn hot.
************************************************** ****
I'm dressed in black pleather, a'la Michelle Pheiffer, except the top has a part for my hair to come cascading down, sort of like the old school Poison Ivy costume, only my hair is really big and soft and flowy----
anyway I have this guy on a bed, tied up
the ends of my gloves have these primped finger nails at the end, and i scratch him lightly,
lick him here
kiss him there
I tighten the rope on his cuffs.
he tries to do forward to grab me but i push him against the headboard of the bed with one hand and grab his jaw before giving him a light kiss,
before i pull on the rope a little harder.
I reapply this awesome red lipstick and giggle an evil giggle before blindfolding him.
after that the pov shifts and it goes black, just as i blindfold him
I don't become him, but i can tell what he's feeling as I do my below the belt business.
this goes on for a while, me switching positions, playing with this, nibbling that, scratching and sucking and touching touching touching
then i slow down, before coming to a stop and pulling the blind fold off of him.
He is covered in perfect red lipstick kiss marks, all over and he has this huge smile on his face.
I smile too and pull the catwoman mask off before settling to purrrr next to him.
I have way too many sex dreams:shock:. hahaha.