Nomad's Dreamtime

[Baron Samedi]

I post my non-lucid dreams here, trying to figure out what they mean. 25.08.2009 Banyan Baby (Non-lucid) NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID I was facing the edge of a rainforest in India. I was in a village or clearing in the forest. There was a great banyan tree growing in front of me. I saw a cute chubby Caucasian baby boy wearing pink pajamas playing in some young bright green grass, just coming up out of the ground, trying to become thicker. The baby was looking at the grass and the dirt, feeling it. I was with someone that I did not see, a male companion. I told my friend, "Hey look, if you get down low to the ground like this," as I semi-reclined on the ground, "it looks like the banyan tree is growing out of the baby, or like he made it or something." My friend said, "Oh yeah! That's funny." The baby crawled around on the grass, and then snuggled up next to me. Then he stood up, using me for balance, and looked around for his mom. He didn't see her, so he got worried. I was worried he was going to start crying, and that people would thing I made him cry or something. The emotion of the moment woke me up. I got the distinct idea, the cover for a CD. I may record a CD soon, and I think a baby playing in front of a banyan tree is a great idea. Well, I didn't meet my dream goal, which was to meet a Dream Guide that looks like a Dragon-Man with red scaly skin. My idea was that I could use him as a dream sign if he became a recurring character, since it's fantastic to to see a Dragon-Man in waking life. I think I didn't have a really clear goal in mind, so my mind was all over the place. I have created in my mind a Dream Home to be a jumping off point for my dreams. The idea is start all my WILD's in a house made out of a living Banyan Tree. So, that's why that was there. Also, I read about some dream yoga, and they said to lie on your side, knees slightly bent, and head resting on bent arm, which I think would probably make your wrist sore, but I tried it. I wasn't able to sleep like that, but, I was in that position when the baby cuddled up to me. I have met the most talented one-year-old baby, that actually walks around with a mike and sings. He just says, "AAAA!" but he is actually singing. Also someone has a baby avatar on DV, so that's why I dreamt about a baby I think. I tried to go right back to sleep and have another dream, but I was thirsty and had to pee. C'est la vie! Oh, I just want to note that I had the WILD's last night as I was falling asleep, and this one this morning before I woke. I know I had a lot of dreams last night, but this one I liked the best, so I focused on remembering this particular one.

[Baron Samedi]

25.08.2009 Ourobos (Non-lucid) NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID I felt sleepy, like I needed a nap, and I thought it would be cool to try one of my dream goals. I didn't have anything really clear in mind. I thought maybe exploding would be cool, but I was afraid it would hurt, even if I was lucid, because I have experienced pain in dreams. Then I thought about having a sex dream. As I was falling asleep I started thinking about how I'd like to have sex with a certain woman I am into, but, I stopped because I thought, "Well, what if this never happens? What if I have a sex dream about her, and we never actually do it? That would be a huge disappointment." Then, I lost the intention of my dream as I drifted off. I was at some house party, and people were having a conversation about a local cannibal. The way they talked about it was so casual it was a little disturbing. I really felt like I needed to pee. I walked into a dark messy bedroom, and one of my girl cousins followed me, saying that she had to pee also. I told her to go in the closet, I think there may be a bathroom in there. I went behind a shower curtain in the bedroom, and there was a toilet, a sink, and a shower. I pulled my pants and underwear down, and sat down on the toilet with the lid down, and began performing autofellatio. It felt real, which is strange because I have never fellated anyone, including myself. I felt proud of myself that I was able to do it, but I felt kind of gross, too. Also, I could hear people talking, and that bothered me, plus there was no door on the bathroom, just a curtain. I wanted to finish quickly, so I added manual stimulation to the process. I felt ejaculate in my mouth, which disappeared. Then, I stood up, and walked out past the curtain. There I saw this part-Hawaiian guy that I know, T. standing in the bedroom. His ex-girlfriend was one of the cannibal's victims. He relayed to me a story of how he met the cannibal. He told me that the guy lived a couple floors above him in an apartment building. He said he met the guy, and actually hung out with him a couple times, and he seemed really cool and normal. He didn't seem to be bothered that the cannibal ate his ex-girlfriend. He just had kind of an indifferent, well-isn't-that-weird attitude. My cousin walked out of the closet, and stood there, doing nothing. T. kept talking casually about what a funny coincidence it was. I got the impression that the cannibal ate her after T. and his ex broke up, so he didn't care. I woke up, and I had had a wet dream. Well, that was a big disappointment. I felt gross and disturbed. Earlier, I wanted to replace my avatar picture of my face with one of a faun or satyr, and I saw all these pictures of satyrs with horse tails and erect penises. That is what I get for looking at stuff like that before I fall asleep. haha. I haven't had a wet dream in a long time, and I don't like to, because I can usually sense my physical body. In this dream I did not, so that's good. I hope my next nocturnal emission will be about sex with a woman, and not myself! I think this dream may have significance in the sense of the Ouroboros, since I am in the process of rebirth in my life. Also, Ra, the Egyptian sun god performed autofellatio. I have been on Egyptian trip in my subconcious ever since visiting the pyramid. There is a story I heard about the origin of the digjeridoo where this god blows on his own penis to hide or something. I play didjeridoo also. I need to pay more attention to what I put in my head before I fall asleep. I also need to have more intention of what I want to dream about. The funny thing about the cannibal part is how far removed I am from that. I don't eat any kind of meat anymore. In fact, during the entire dream, I had some vegetable soup in the slow cooker that I am making from scratch.

[Baron Samedi]

26.08.2009 stripping (Non-lucid) NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID I vaguely remember swimming in a pool with hot girls in bikinis. There was an artificial waterfall. We were indoors somewhere, and people were watching us. We were playing with a beachball and splashing water at each other, giggling. I felt turned on and exhbitionistic. I pretended I didn't see the people, but I liked the attention. The dream faded to the next scene. I had bigger muscles than in waking life this dream and the next. I have a slim muscular build in waking life. I was in a banquet hall in a resort. The room was full of maybe two or three hundred people dining at circular tables for some event. The emcee asked me another guy, and a couple hot girls to come up front. Some cheesy electronic music came on, and lights pulsed. He announced that we were going to take off our clothes. We started dancing and stripping. I noticed my underwear was white. I was a little embarrassed that the shadows around my genitals would be more apparent. Then, the emcee looking down at me said, "Those aren't see-thru are they?" I looked down. The bottom part of my underwear was totally clear vinyl. I had an erection pressing against it. Oh no! I thought. The emcee pointed again, "Now, Waitaminute! Are those your hairy balls pouring out the side?" The dream ended because I was amazed that whatever he said appeared. I wish I had been lucid, then I would know that the emcee was me. So, I myself was making things appear. Hmm, I should try that in my next dream. Make something appear... hmm... I know, a pen and paper. As I fall asleep, I am going to write a note in my mind, "You are dreaming. Summon a genie." I am then going to place it on the kitchen counter by the toaster in my mind. The genie will automatically ask me my wishes three hopefully. Genies are a very specific kind of archetypes in our society. And they grant wishes.

[Baron Samedi]

26.08.2009 Lucid Living 8/26/09 (Non-lucid) NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID I am learning about dream yoga and the idea of lucid living. I ate a clove of nutmeg last night, and I was also high on cannabis during this experience, but totally awake! I was talking on the phone to a beautiful woman who I feel I have a strong connection to. I told her, "We have these short deep little conversations, and then I can't talk to you for a while because it's too intense. I feel like I've known you in a past life." She said, "I feel like that too, maybe we did." She said, "You're cute." I used to have a crush on her when I first met her nine months ago or so, but I don't anymore. When we said goodbye, she said, "I love you, Nate." I felt not flattered or amazed, but surprised. She has a boyfriend, I think. I don't really care, because I don't want her anymore. Just then, I found a $20 bill on the ground. I was happy, and started laughing. I told her, "Wow, I just found a $20 bill on the ground. That's funny because I have about ten bucks to my name!" She said, "That because you're talking to me. Just kidding! It's your lucky day." I told her, "It's not you, but is the energy we are sharing between us." I got on the bus and sat in the back. All the crazy people sit there. I do it I guess because I'd rather an enemy be nearby than far away. This angry looking guy got on the bus. He looked like a crazed meth head or crack head. I could tell he was a threat, so I stood up to move away. In case he attacked me, I didn't want to be in the corner. He asked me for a quarter. I said, "I don't have it." He said, "It's cool it's cool," as if he doing me a favor by letting me off the hook. He then offered to pound fists with me, and I did it. I then moved toward the back door. He moved and sat closer to me. "Ho, Hawaiian. Ho, boy!" he called. "I just like on quarter, fifty cents." I looked him in the eye and repeated, "I don't have it." I was not about to give him my twenty dollars when I am unemployed and have two weeks to pay a $200 fine to the government, or they put a warrant out for my arrest. I decided if he asked me again, I would shout at him in my biggest voice. I have a very loud fucking voice when I want to. I can make your ribcage vibrate with my shouts. He grumbled that he wanted money, getting more antagonistic toward me. I pointed my finger and blasted him with my chi, shouting, "Stop asking me for money! I'm broke like you, NIGGA!" I did it to frighen him, and also to let everyone on the bus know what he was doing. He mumbled, "Wow. You don't have to be so loud." He got up and stood in front of me by the door. He looked at me, but I stared straight ahead, staring through him, not acknowledging his existence. He grabbed the door aggressively, like a rat in a cage. He got off the bus and didn't bother me.

[Baron Samedi]

28.08.2009 Prison (Non-lucid) NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID I was leaving a mall, when I had to cross a little bridge on the second story to get outside. There were a bunch of cops with German shepherds shining flashlights (electric torches) in my face. I didn't know what was going on. They shoved me on the ground, and cuffed me. I was held down there for a long time. "Yup, there's a warrant out for his arrest," I heard one of them say. I lost the details of the next part of the dream. I remember I went to jail, but I got released, and then went back to the facility with my mom to visit someone, probably my cousin who is in prison right now, and got busted with me for graffiti a couple months ago. I was back at the prison, which seemed minimal security, yet still a depressing place to be. It was at night. My mom and I separated, she in the car, and I on foot to look for the admin building. Visiting hours were over. I tried to find an exit. I didn't want to look like someone fleeing. I walked toward a gate. I walked to the guard house. He came out before I got there. "Can I help you with something?" he asked sternly. The gate guard was a tall Caucasian man, dressed like a cop. "I'm just trying to find my way out." "Well, visiting hours are over. Inmates are not allowed to walk around the facility freely. You need to get back inside. You must be new here." "No, I'm not supposed to be here," I explained, "I'm just visiting someone." As I lifted up some papers to show him, he raised his voice, "Hey, what's that in your hand?" "Just papers," I said. "See, these are the visitation forms." "Easy there. Slowly now," he commanded. He took the papers from me, and looked at them. "Hmm, yeah. If you're a visitor, you should've turned these in much earlier, at the time of your visit." I tried to explain to him that my mom and I couldn't find the administration builidng at the beginning of the visit, so we just decided to look for it afterward since we didn't have much time. "Yeah," he looked at me suspiciously. "Got I.D.?" I felt for my wallet. I had forgot it at home. "Oh shit!" I involuntarily cursed, "I forgot it at home." "Well," he smirked, "it looks like you are going to have to stay here until we get this all sorted out." He said "sorted out" in a very sarcastic manner, patronizing me. "Turn around please." I obeyed not wanting to get tackled, choked, tasered, or pepper sprayed. He cuffed me. "Damn," I thought, "this bullshit again." I was on a basketball court with high fences that had locks on the gates. There were a bunch of people in street clothes who had just gotten "picked up" and were awaiting processing. A couple people were pacing back and forth on cel phones. "What?" I thought, "I didn't know we could use our cels." I decided to try and sneak a call home. I dialed my parents' home number. I got the answering machine. "Hey, yeah... I'm in jail, again. I don't know how you just left without me, mom, but yeah. Here I am. So, come get me. Now if you can. I am not even supposed to be here." I sighed and hung up. I saw a friend of mine, P., who is one of the most genuine Christians I have ever met. He was slowly walking around aimlessly through the sea of us sitting on the floor. "Weird. I wonder why he is here. They grab everyone, I guess," I thought. There were both genders in the basketball court, but mostly men. Everyone seemed like regular everyday people. They all were agitated, and seemed confused. We were ordered inside and assigned beds in different rooms. There were about four beds in a room. It was more like the dorms at a military school I went to. They took away our personal belongings, and gave us bedclothes and sleepwear. As I was placing my stuff on the bed, a prison guard turned off the light and ordered us to go to sleep. The next morning, I heard some female voices in the hall. (I had heard one of the the guys in the room with me mumble something about boobies the night before.) Three attractive slutty-looking girls walked in the room. For some reason, they were dressed like grunge rockers from the 90's; white T-shirts, black jeans, Doc Marten's boots, flannels tied around their waists, and silver jewelry. The prettiest one, a Latina chick with a ponytail, long eyelashes, and too much make-up said, "Yeah, so how you boys doing? Do you like boobies?" She giggled. One of her friend lifted up her shirt, revealing perfect B-cups. This was obviously against the rules, so no one hollered and cheered, but the same guy from the night before bugged his eyes out, and quietly whispered, "boobies!" She dropped her shirt and walked out of the room. Another girl lifted up her shirt and smiled. I admired these girl's perfect breasts. Then, I realized they were some kind of a prostitution ring. They were not supposed to be on our floor. Then I saw J., my last lover, standing in the corner of the room behind the other women. I guess she had snuck in with them. She was wearing a long sleeved, red, button down shirt. I knew she wasn't with them. "How did she know I was here? Why is she here?" The other women left. J. made eye contact with me, suppressing a smile. She held a folded up piece of paper in her hand up to her heart. She walked over to my desk and set the paper on it, and silently walked away. I quickly stuffed it in my pocket. "This must be her address, I thought. There is no other way for her to contact me, since she doesn't know my address, and can't call or anything. But, why is she here? I wonder what she did. That is so messed up." I walked out into the hall, and I watched her walk away without turning around. "Damn," I thought as I walked back in the room. "Well, I least I saw some boobies. I am not going to feel bad about that!" I decided to be grateful I saw some boobies even though I was in prison. I made my bed, got into my prison day clothes, and walked back out into the hall. I walked down the hall to the end. There was a window. I stared longingly out the window at the grass and the trees. I wanted to escape. I returned back from where I came, and I saw a bunch of people going down a flight of stairs hurriedly. I thought I should probably go with the flow. There was a huge window, two stories high, next to the stairs. Some prison guards in formal uniforms were raising a giant American flag on a pole right outside the window. The flag was about forty feet long, and 25 feet high. I wondered why they were doing it at noon. Outside was bright and green, with all the bushes, trees, hedges, and grass well manicured. Everyone stopped and faced the flag, hands on their hearts, saying either the Pledge of Allegiance, or singing the National Anthem softly. I couldn't tell which. There was music playing, but I didn't pay much attention to it. All the prisoners halfheartedly dropped their hands toward the end of the song before it was over. There were some cops playing cards on the landing of the stairs, who stopped playing their game, but they did not stand, or take off their hats, or acknowledge the flag was being raised in any way except for pausing their game. The cops were all fat bastards in lazy semi-reclining positions. I saw one of the cops lick his finger sloppily before he selected a card from his hand and set it on a small ugly pale-green 70's style wavy table. It looked like everyone was going to lunch. I didn't care about food. I returned to the second floor and walked down the hall toward the room I was assigned. I walked to the end of the hall where I had been gazing out the window. I saw an open door with a couple steps leading down to what looked like a classroom that had been abandoned and used for storage. I walked in. I saw some dusty butcher paper, broken chairs, and other random dusty office stuff. Then, I noticed my bamboo didjeridoo was sitting there, gathering dust. "Those fuckers!" I thought. "How the hell did they get my didj, and why do they have it?" I picked it up, and examined it. A random female prison guard, and T., the big Hawaiian man, were suddenly in the room with me, behind me. He was wearing a white collared shirt. "What is that you have in your hand?" the woman asked suspiciously. I noticed there were cracks going up the side of the didjeridoo from the bottom. "It's- it was my didjeridoo." "Really?" she asked, doubtful. "Play it for us." "Well, it's kind of broken." I grabbed at the split parts of the wood and began breaking them off, hoping to shorten the didjeridoo, but leave the rest intact. T. saw me struggling, and felt sorry for me, so he pulled out a pocketknife and help me cut them off. I knew he wasn't supposed to do it, so I was grateful. The splits went all the way the didjeridoo anyway. It was ruined. I saw another smaller bamboo didjeridoo. It also had splits going up it. I grabbed it and inspected it. I tried to fix it, but made it worse. I threw on the floor. "It's ruined," I said dejectedly. "Well, you can hear me throat sing," I said. "Go for it," the woman said, crossing her arms. Just then, I looked out the window, and saw a stream with a grassy slope going down toward it, and a fence. There were three women in Chinese peasant clothes and coolie hats being watched by a prison guard walking through a gate in a chain link fence. There was another prison on the other side of the stream. The women were being forced to weed around the fence to make it look pretty. I felt so sorry for them. "What a bunch of bullshit. What a bunch of wasted effort. What a way to forcibly waste another's life," I thought. I was angry and deeply sad. I felt like crying. I decided that I was going to sing to those prisoners even though they couldn't hear me. I started singing softly to myself, and slowly let my volume increase. I was overwhelmed with emotion. The emotion of the moment woke me up, and the song is in my head still. As I write this, I am in tears thinking about all the oppressed people in China, and all the Americans locked up in prison for years over bullshit. This was the longest dream I have ever remembered, which makes it very significant.

[Baron Samedi]

28.08.2009 non-lucid conversation about lucid dreaming (Non-lucid) NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID I was lying in bed, talking with one of my best friends on the phone about lucid dreaming. I told him different techniques to becoming lucid, and I told him I hoped he had a lucid dream tonight. After I got done talking with him, I was in a different room, it looked like one from military school. I opened the laptop, to write some stuff, and it was acting up. As I lifted it up, the screen broke at the hinge, or it seemed it was already broken, but was being held in some type of plastic cradle, and it slid up. I could not reattach it very well. When I finally did, the screen seemed to be a cathode ray tube, and had small speakers attached to it. I thought,"Well, at least the music will sound better." It was this ugly black dirty textured black plastic. I don't believe I had a conversation about lucid dreaming in a non-lucid dream!

[Baron Samedi]

Note: Do a lot of research before ingesting large amounts of nutmeg or trying any drug. EDIT: This dream happened in June or so. I decided to meditate in shavasana (sp?). It's a yoga pose lying on your back, eyes closed, palms facing upward. I thought this might enhance the high. When I do this sober, and take deep breaths, I get real body highs, and feel very tingly and relaxed. So, I meditated, and released all the mental chatter. I felt fear, and allowed myself to feel the emotion, then released it. I stretched out my spine. I focused on my breath, simply breathing deeply. I meditated on nothing else but my breath. The next thing I can remember is walking back into my room, startled to see my grandmother in there, since she never goes in there, even though I live with her. She was lighting incense on this huge shrine, about four feet high, in the center of my room. The shrine looked like black cardboard, with progressively smaller boxes stacked one on the other, with holes for incense sticks. When I walked in, she looked startled and embarrassed. She said, "Oh, I'm sorry." Then, she walked out, murmuring, "it smells like poison in here," really spitting out the p in poison, sounding annoyed. She knows I smoke cannabis, by the way, and is fine with it, but we don't talk about it. I put out a stick of incense, and to my chagrin, there were a bunch of sticks burning all around the shrine. Some were unlit. I didn't know if she was planning on lighting them all or what. I put them all out. I was tired, so I went to sleep. There were some people talking outside my window that woke me up. I looked out the window, and saw three people standing outside their cars, and maybe some more inside. The three people outside their cars were two men and a woman. They seemed to have a shady vibe, which annoyed me, but didn't make me feel scared. The man on the left looked right at me, making eye contact. I looked back, not caring. After all, I was just looking out my window, and he was the one peering in, so I didn't feel bad about it. He continued talking to the other man. The woman didn't speak. The other man was dressed in a suit, or button down shirt looked at me. He looked like this guy, Zach, I just met. I was annoyed with him also. His stare was more intense and bold than the first guy's, but I wasn't afraid at all. I decided to just go back to sleep. As I laid down, I noticed he was still staring at me, which is impossible, because the wall is in the way. I just chalked it up to a nutmeg hallucination, and went back to sleep. I woke up in bed with three other guys. It was like an oversized king sized bed. We were sleeping as to avoid touching each other, like how my friends and I used to sleep after hotel parties. I thought, "That's weird. I don't remember this party. Well, I'll just get a drink of water and take a piss, and it will all come back to me." It was light out, and as I walked across the hall to use the bathroom, I ended up in a room I have never seen before. This room had a sliding glass door, and sunlight pouring in. It was full of rattan furniture. The three guys were three White guys I talked to on Friday night that I have met earlier. It's unusual to see three White people in a group of friends here in Hawaii, becaue Whites are a minority. Zachary walked past me into the room, and picked up a newspaper off the nightstand. He asked me if he could borrow it. I said, "Yeah, sure. Oh, wait, my grandma wants to go through it first. Actually, wait until she's done." The next thing I knew, I was half asleep in my room. I was awakened by my sister's hair brushing against my face. There was a period where, as adults, we had to sleep in the same room because of overcrowded conditions, so it wasn't particularly surprising. I would sleep on her bedroom floor. It was night again. After I noticed it was night, I realized that whole episode of me with the three White guys was obviously a dream, because of the absurdity of it. My sister walked out of the room. I was about to use the bathroom, but she went in their first. It was fine, I didn't have to go that badly anyway. I walked down the hall to the kitchen to get a drink of water. Right before I got to the kitchen, she called me from the hallway behind me, "Remember to drink lots of water, because of all that nutmeg." And I said, "Right." I noticed a lot of visual distortions at this point. I felt very strange, the feeling is pretty indescribable, but I will do my best. I felt fascinated by the wavy hallucinations, a little afraid at was was going to happen next, excited because of the anticipation, and a constant underlying euphoric high. I started seeing double. Actually, it was more like, I was processing what each eye was seeing individually without merging my sight into a whole. My sister had my reluctant trip sitter when I drank some morning glory tea made of one leaf with minimal effects. I thought she was doing a good job of being my trip sitter at the moment. I stood in front of a mirror that is shaped like a window in the dining area. It was on the opposite wall, though. I had been looking at my reflection in the mirror as I was smoking. I feel mirrors are empowering if you can stare into them for a long period in the darkness and release your fear. I remembered the idea of looking at your hands when you realize you are lucid dreaming to stay in the dream, and stay lucid. My sister walked down the hall and was near me, placidly watching. I lifted up my hands, palms facing inward, and saw nothing. I physically felt my hands go up, but saw nothing. I repeated this a second time, and then a third. The third time, I saw my hands and arms reflected in the mirror, but not my real hands. I said aloud, "Look at your hands. I am dreaming," just as I have been doing while awake and sober in order to induce and retain lucid dreams. At this point I realized I was tripping balls. I decided I needed another drink of water, remembering how nutmeg dries you out, and I didn't want a nutmeg hangover. I excitedly went to the kitchen sink, and got a drink of water. After I drank it, I again lifted up my hands to look at them. Nothing. I went back to the mirror. I saw the reflection in the mirror again. For some reason, I went into Horse Stance, (the typical karate/kung fu wide stance with bent knees) and I felt powerful. I felt strong because I was tripping so hard, yet I was unafraid. I kept moving my hands up and down, seeing the backs of my hands and my forearms in the mirror, and the reflection of my shirtless torso and head, but seeing no hands right in front of my face. I kept saying, "Look at your hands, I am dreaming." I was pleased with myself at being able to trip so hard, and release the fear. My sister just stood there watching me, placidly. I felt mana coming up out of the ground into my feet, and moving up my legs into my whole body. I said, "fuck yeah," to myself, and kept moving my hands up and down. I was ready for the rest of the trip. I knew I would be alright, and not freak out. Suddenly I was lying in bed with no pillows or sheets on it. I got up, took a piss, and got a drink of water. I wondered what was going to happen next. I realized that part about the three White guys had been a dream. Then, I realized the reason I had no pillows or sheets on my bed, was because I fell asleep while meditating. Then, waitaminute! My sister lived in a different house now, and there was no four foot shrine in my bedroom. It had all been a dream. The nutmeg induced lucid dreaming, and in the last dream, I realized I was being affected by nutmeg, but I did not realized I was dreaming. I don't exactly know what you call that! I don't think there's a name for it. I looked in the bathroom mirror, and I said, "Ok, this is reality." I went back to bed, and I noticed the shadows of the jalousies on my curtains reminded of tiger stripes. I put a little pinch of nutmeg under my tongue, and I tried to lucid dream again, but I simply slept soundly through the night, and woke up at a normal time with no side effects.

[The Cusp]

Nutmeg? Blech! That stuff will give you the worst hangover known to man! You were in my dreams Friday night, but I gave up on trying to get through to you. You seemed too out of it. Now I know why. Who does nutmeg? lol

[Pride]

Thank you, you just proved to me after reading your latest entry that i can have good recall and still smoke pot I used to have really good recall, around a year or so ago but stopped recording dreams and got lazy with it. Anyways iv been a little worried over what people have said on other threads but I'm thinking that's just propaganda from the uninformed.

[Baron Samedi]

Nutmeg? Blech! That stuff will give you the worst hangover known to man! You were in my dreams Friday night, but I gave up on trying to get through to you. You seemed too out of it. Now I know why. Who does nutmeg? lol Well, nutmeg is one of the few hallucinogens that makes you sleepy. Friday night I did not do nutmeg... But I was in an awake... altered state. I was def. in another dimension. Thank you, you just proved to me after reading your latest entry that i can have good recall and still smoke pot I used to have really good recall, around a year or so ago but stopped recording dreams and got lazy with it. Anyways iv been a little worried over what people have said on other threads but I'm thinking that's just propaganda from the uninformed. My theory is that cannabis puts you into a deeper sleep faster, thus making dreams harder to recall, but you can still recall them.

[Baron Samedi]

Barman Stripper Dream

[Baron Samedi]

Homeless with a Wolf

[Man of Shred]

couldn't you just type your dreams with less details?

[Baron Samedi]

couldn't you just type your dreams with less details? yes. I already do that, when I make notes about the highlights of my dreams. But, writing as detailed as I can is best.

[Raven Knight]

Homeless with a Wolf I tried three times and got error message: The file you are trying to access is temporarily unavailable. It seems MegaUploads isn't perfect, either.

[Man of Shred]

It works for me fine raven.

[Raven Knight]

It works for me fine raven. It finally worked.

[nina]

I know you said Disney annoys you...but reading your last entry kinda makaes me want to watch a Disney movie. Your description of Soulgawn after he changed is something straight out of Aladdin.

[Baron Samedi]

No Reaction I am with my cousin Dustin in my future car. We just got in it, after we parked it on a dark road in a neighborhood. The rear passenger window is cracked. "Dude! Someone tried to break into my car!" No reaction. "Dude! Someone tried to smash'n'grab my car, man!" No reaction. "Well, I guess I have to go to City Mill for a wrench or screwdriver or something. You want to drive?" No reaction. "Well, I guess I'll drive." No reaction. I guess he was a DC.

[Raven Knight]

Did you get a good look at your future car? That's weird that your cousin didn't react. Usually even DCs react in some manner, although it might make no sense...

[Baron Samedi]

Did you get a good look at your future car? That's weird that your cousin didn't react. Usually even DCs react in some manner, although it might make no sense... It looked like a simple compact car. It was an old Volvo, I think. It was tan.

[Raven Knight]

It looked like a simple compact car. It was an old Volvo, I think. It was tan. Oops... I tried to break into your car... had no idea it was yours, or it would have been more effective to just wait for you! I was not lucid, and looking for a car to get back home before my mom found out I had gone out on a vacation without telling her... somehow I thought I could get back before she noticed me missing, but I couldn't find my car! And I guess I didn't think she'd notice if I came back in a different car... The window wouldn't break, though, only crack.

[Man of Shred]

Funny how we both recently had dreams about being with another woman, and then having our main ones be ok with it.

[Baron Samedi]

abridged I am walking down an alley in a strange city, the same city I was in a couple dreams ago. I feel like I am in England somewhere. I was past some blokes toking the reefer. I want some weed. A guy walking ahead of me says, "here!" and he tosses me a roach in a paper crutch. The roach falls out, and the weed spills. I try to pick it up. He says, "It's not worth it, mate, just let it go." "No, no, it's still good. Aha, see. I have it. We can put this in my piece. I have one at home." "It's all yours, homie." He walks away. I go to my house which is a tiny old two bedroom cottage I live in with my parents (in this dream.) I go to my room. I look for my pipe. I can't find it. My father walks by. I scoop up some weed quickly that I see lying on the floor. I keep finding more and more. Cool! Shit. Cool! Shit. I find about a 1/4 ounce, lying on the ground, loose. I wonder if my father sees it, but ignores it. *** I am with my mom in Hawaii on another island. She is driving me around in a minivan. I am a teenager. I complain like a spoiled brat. For some reason, I want to shower. I think because I am covered with saltwater, and I don't like that sticky feeling. I tell her I want to go home. She tells me to rinse off in the public outdoor shower. I tell her were are near none, because we are on a mountain now. She pulls the car over to a look out point and says there are public showers down aways for the hikers.

[Baron Samedi]

ABRIDGED I am in this strange city I keep appearing in, in my non-lucids. I am in a seemingly abandoned building. I find some old crayons on the ground. I take a purple one, and turning it sideways, scrape it across an indoor wall. A woman pops her head over the wall, and yells at me about graffiti-ing her wall. She asks if I have crayons or spraypaint on me. I hide the crayon and lie. She disappears. I ditch the crayons. *** date unknown I look in the mirror. My hair is buzzed short instead of long. I have downy hair on my chin instead of a goatee. I have girl make up on. I have soft features. I bat my eyelashes. I look like a drag queen, sort of. Why I am so pretty? What the hell is going on? *** A few nights ago NOTE: This was a shared dream between Angel and I, but she virtually never writes her dreams down. I am in my old house in Yarmouth. My ex-wife is there. There is dark energy like black mold dripping from the ceiling. I yell at her to get out. She looks sad. She turns into a hedgehog, and rolls into a ball. I kick her out, literally. She hasn't done any laundry. All my clothes are dirty. I walk around the house, multiplying myself for some reason. I go in the cellar, and strip, throwing my clothes in the wash. Angel appears. She's also nude. She tells me to get out. I ask her what she's talking about. She says all N's (her ex) friends have to leave. She doesn't recognize me. She throws a fireball at me. My energy field deflects it. She harumphs and disappears.