Isengrin's Insight Into Insanity
Well, originally I never planned on posting any of my dreams on here, but recently I've been in a bit of a dream rut - so I figure posting details about my sleep generated madness would help me dig myself out of that hole.
Since I don't have any recent dreams written down, I'll begin by posting a few of my older dreams until I have some new stuff to put up.
Well, I guess it's traditional to explain the format I'll be posting in, along with some explaination on what some of the details in my dreams are, huh? (Maybe not, but too late now) My own commentary, along with any waking bits in-between dreams will be in plain font and color. Like so. Dreams, on the other hand, will be shown in beautiful blue, and the elusive lucid dreams will be a nice shade of red.
Typically, I am pretty detached from my dreams. Either the main character looks nothing like me (ranging from different genders to opposite personalities) or "I" am an observer - a mere camera viewing the dream unfold. I like watching dreams unfold naturally, so I rarely lucid (after all, what can be more natural than not interfering with the dream). I play a lot of video games, so my dreams tend to involve a lot of things that would be acceptable in a fictional reality but would make no sense in real life. I'm a fan of Lovecraft (or at least his mythos anyways) so my dreams tend to spiral into eldritch geometries if they last too long. And, uh, I like superheros and zombies. That should cover most of what happens in my dreams =P
Hmmm, that block of text is just inviting someone to go tl;dr, so in summary:
-My dreams are wacky in an often not good way
-I don't even star in my own dreams
-And zombies.
Most of the dreams I copy from my old dream journals (yes, plural) will be dated and have something to announce they're old.
Annnnd finally, my personal goals for dreaming:
___ Consistently become lucid
___ Make a dream guide
___ Make a permanent location in my dreams
___ Finally get that friggin' chat with mirror me
___ And become lucid thanks to a dream sign
Hey, everyone's got to start somewhere, right? Anyways, on to the good stuff.
The Prison (Oldie; 11/12/09)
I'll kick start things with my most recent recorded dream. Back on November 12th. Yikes. Anyways, copied vertibram from my Dream Journal. Also, as a note, most of the time names and backstories as just things I know in a dream, so the names below, unless explicitly mentioned by another character, are pretty much what dream-me calls them.
It begins with a simple car ride. I don't remeber where we were going, but that was the "main plot" before being captured. We were arrestted for speeding, but we couldn't argue. Especially me, who was carrying the Death Note Edge.
Before continuing, you should meet my companions. They have no names mentioned in dream, so I will name them based on their inspirations. First is the Boy, based on Beast Boy from Teen Titans. He can shape change and is an incurable jokester, and we spend alot of time helping each other. There is Graham, my only other friend inside the prison, who acts as my supporter. Next is Saint, who introduces the third plot. She resembles an old lady, and is a pessimist for the majority of the dream.
There are several more characters, and they will be introduced as necessary. As for me? In the dream, I was likely a girl - especially considering the third plot, yet prehaps not exclusively. In this dream, who I am is an nebulous concept.
We are driving. It is raining, and it leaves a soft pitter padder sound as it hits the window. We are going some where. I am desperate. Suddenly, I awaken. I check to see if I am dreaming. There is nothing. I look at the clock. 2:00 AM. Quickly I drift back to sleep. Now, we are captured.
The main hall of the prison is like a small, open courtyard - with the prisoners linning up outside a stone kiosk where we deposit our items, a lady at a computer takes our ID information, and a final guard gives us... a brochure for a Japenese resteraunt.
At this point, Miku, the only friend who knew I had the Death Note Edge, and I both come up with a plan. I will hide my Edge amougnst the brochures, and thus have it with me inside. I slip it in with a brochure, and act like I picked it up as part of the line. But before I can make it in, the Warden says "Good try. Now hand it over." Then I wake up. Even as I awake, I can hear the fading voices of my dream - at least until I look at the clock. 2:23 AM.
The Death Note Edge is similar to the Death Note in that any names written on it cause those people to die. The change here, however, was that there was no physical spot on the Edge to write on. Instead, it was only a frame with blood red symbols around it, and one had to carve the name mid-air in its center with their fingers.
I find myself in the jail. The entrance is bared and locked behind me. To my left is a stone wall that extends the length of the prison. To my right are about four, mass, open-air, and geometrically shaped prisons. Each one had a small fenced off area inside, and a central tower built only of walls and floors, but no roofs. The top was outside of my field of view. At this point I realised two things: one, I could not look up, and two, my left leg was broken. There was no pain, but I caused me to move slightly slowly.
The Boy and I move to our cell, at the far end of the prison. There we meet Graham and the other cellmates. Graham acts as defacto leader to the other prisoners, by virtue of his calm and mediating personality.
I accustom myself to the prison. The place was almost an entirely seperate world. The guards never came in, but the door to the main courtyard was left open. The only locked door was the one out of the place. Everyone had a silent agreement to never enter the enclosed area with in the cells. It was accepted that only bad things could happen. So, to pass the time, the Boy and I pass time in the statue yard shape changing into each other and the statues.
After a while, we realize that food will not be coming. Truely, we were abandoned. Thus, I took it upon myself to enter the enclosed space, so that prehaps we might find food or a way out.
The gate was wooden, and barely hinged on the stone wall. It opened easily, but with a loud groan. Inside were bones. Human bones. Piles of bones. All around, filling up the room. To the back, was a third enclosed space - but with no door this time. Out of this door came... a miniature bronchasaurus with blue, bug eyes. Then another. And then another. And then a fourth. Then, like a cat stalking its prey, they moved in formation towards me. I picked up a bone and called for help, then fended off a lunge from one of the creatures. At first, no one wanted to enter. I was only a few feet away, and everyone could see me fighting the creatures. I was getting desperate, when Graham suddenly joined the fray, clubbing one of the creatures. Suddenly, all the prisoners joined in and we mobbed the creatures.
2:40 AM. I preform my regular reality checks. Everything is in place, yet I still feel uneasy with my condition upon waking up. I promptly fall asleep again.
It is night. There are stars in the sky. The walls are illuminated by the fire light, as we cook the creatures. We are dancing and partying - everyone, in every cell is joining us. Graham and I sit a bit away from the others. I laugh and say "Its funny how much like a movie or book this is."
With the creatures gone, the base to the towers are open, and we take to sleeping in the towers. It is still night. The Boy and Graham are curled asleep on the third floor of the tower. But I can not rest. Things just don't feel right. I climb tot he fourth floor, and find I can't look to higher, yet I can climb higher. Once I travel further up, I find that I can travel easily between the towers. Prehaps we can escape this way?
Once I climb back to the third floor of one of the other towers, I meet Saint. She warns me against going higher than the third floor. "The fourth floor belongs to the Drugged Man. He has a lever that can drop the floor beneth you, and then he will claim it was an accident. If you go up there he will rape and kill you." Remembering how I could not see above the fourth floor, I decide not to travel there again.
I wake up, the voice of Saint still ringing in my ear. It is 3:01 AM.
Things... Things have gotten only weirder. We awaken to find the jail has changed into some sort of nearly abandoned art museum. For a change, there are guards on patrol. The Boy, Graham, and I start looking through some of the books on a shelf in the back. Then...
A man bursts in from one of the new hallways. He is wearing glasses, an undershirt, and some pants. Nothing else. He screams for help and grabs one of the guards by the shirt. But the guard can't even look at him. The guard's eyes spin wildly about the room, with drool spilling down his lips and his eyes colored red. The guard then touches the man, whose face breifly contorts in pain, but then begins the same crazed pattern of the guard. The guard then jerks his way over to a third person, and transforms them as well.
Suddenly there is a panic. Prisoners flee from the guards, and the Boy and Graham are no where to be seen. I know they can take care of themselves, and focus on escaping. Luckily, I can still shape change. I grow a pair of wings and fly over the heads of the madmen. I fly down the new hall and find a HUGE new room, built similar to the center of a large mall, with a large glass walkway crossing down the second level. Even here, people are fleeing the touch of madness. I avoid all contact, but can hear some of the madmen making strange sentences. I can't remeber them all, but the one I remeber most clearly was "Bring the bag to the Drugged Man!"
From my vantege point I can see an exit, along with a balding man desperately trying to make his way over there and escape from the tough of madness. I fly over to him, but my wings fail and I'm plopped on the floor. I limp over towards him, as he hides behind a pillar, watching as I try to outrace the crazy person tailing me. But I can't escape, and the woman grabs me. Surprizingly, I don't go mad, rather she calls and says "Help! Help! She has the master bag!" And the others being to shamble towards me. The balding man grins.
I wake up. 3:30 Am.
Left 4 Dead & Robberies (Oldie; 9/4/09)
Since it is the grand opening begining first day I'm posting my Dream Journal online, I figure I should do two dreams.
I had two dreams. The first one was Left 4 Dead inspired. I am in a new level. There are about six people in the safe room, and the exit door doesn't cover the whole entrance. I walk out and see two fences, to my left and right, with zombies on either side. I wait for a few moments, and then a couple of zombies begin climbing over the fence towards me. I run back in and try to close the door, but it falls apart! However, with six guns we make quick work of the infected. But wait! One of our group is a "smart" zombie and tries to back stab us! The girl in front of her dodges the attack by the splits and I point my gun at her. We exchange pithy dialouge (can't remember) and then shot her.
The second one was about breaking into some building. We used belts to climb up the side of a building and break in. We split up, and Kattie finds a computer with my stuff on it. She says "Jackpot," and turns it on. She opens my dream journal, but it is password protected. However, my password hint says "Frank" which it isn't. I tell her to knock it off and turn off the computer. Some other stuff happens and I wake up.
Hmmm, Dream Journals are no fun unless I (or someone else) nitpick little details and apply arm-chair psychology to them. Sooo, let me start.
I think (in my unprofessional opinion) that the dreams partially represent my desire for privacy (second dream) and general mistrust of other people (first dream). After all, things in dreams only really happen because that's what we expect to happen, nyet? What point was there to a smart zombie suddenly reveiling herself for no reason, except to affrim that my paranoia was spot on? Anyways, I find the DC's response in the second dream to be more interesting - "Jackpot" seems to imply that they thought what was on my computer was interesting. And since the DC is an extension of myself, it'd imply that I thought that what's on my computer is important.
Anyways, if anyone wants to share their thoughts on my dreams, I don't mind you guys posting here. After all, if I wanted this stuff secret I wouldn't have posted it =D
Another Day, Another Dream (Date Forgotten)
Man, I'm terrible at this schedule keeping thing, ain't I? Well, it's only really a detriment to me, so I just need to motivate myself I guess :P. Right, I don't remember the day this dream happened on, and all I have to go off of is my hastily scribbled not reading "4 toad virus ghost." Honestly, I can't remember what the heck I was talking about with "virus," but I remember the rest!
I'm a ghost floating in an old Victorian-style manor. I hear a knock on the door and rush to greet it - after all I'm expecting someone! I float out past the window and lower myself to the ground floor. There is a woman waiting for me, and I get the feeling that we have some connection, but the exact details are hazy. Just a note, the city I live in has a lot of Victorian-style houses, just laying around. They are readily apparent, and often off home tours for those who want to look around inside. She says that she can't stay for long, and we be heading out soon. We share a long look, and then she reminds me to return through the window I left, making sure to tell me to "Push first with the right hand." She leaves (too bad I can't place a name to her) and I rapidly float back up, as if I don't want to remain on the street for too long. Once I reach the window, I stick my hand out and rush through the window. Going back inside produces a feeling of falling or crashing through glass, natural except I'm supposed to be a ghost.
Inside is the stereotypical big entrance hallway, with big stairs on the opposite side of the house. At the zenith of the stairs is a portrait of a man wearing a dark suit, dark top hat, and small glasses. Instead of going up these stairs, I go down the small ones just to the left. They lead to a small basement, with a beanbag couch, a t.v., and red carpeting. And red walls. On the opposite end of the room is a small, high, and barred window. I proceed to spend the rest of the dream watching a series of bizarre t.v. shows while a clock slowly ticks down from 12:00:00 with the words "Time Until Next Visit" is written below it. The shows include such gems as:
-static
-an angel fish with yellow stripes swimming among coral
-more static
-another clock
-a non-sensical card game
-the "wake-up" channel, wait, what?
I wake up.
I'll write the second part of the dream later, right now I'm pooped out.
