ErraticHopper
Member

I dream of the [X] library again. I've dreamt of it before, I'm sure, and it was like trying to recall my other dream - I struggled to remember where everything was.

I slip out of my house from a back door (white, frosted glass pane) into a narrow cobbled alley, and head towards the library. Soon enough I'm there. Entering the large double doors of the library I see a huge neon red sign, below which is surely a bar - tables clustered together, people clustered around them, moving, a long bar at the back wall, and everything is dark in there, as if it's midnight already, although the sky is bright outside.

I turn and head down some corridors towards the library. They are all white linoleum, white walls, windowless, winding - but somehow I find my way. At the end of a corridor are two curved white doors, leading off in different directions, where I know the library should be. They have circular porthole windows at the top. I push each one open, look inside, rush around searching, but all I find is more white rooms and offices. They are all empty and so quiet - it feels like I shouldn't be here.

Finally, whoever knows how, I find the library. I peek through the round windows in the door and see, set against purple carpet and dark green walls, shelves and shelves of books throughout a moderately large rectangular room. Children and (a few) teenagers mill around and stand and sit reading. I realise that this is the children's library and I need to find the larger one, and I turn back to search once more.

When I reach the large library, it is almost outside, a large glass wall facing onto a paved courtyard, accessed from a semi-covered walkway. I can see, through the full-length windows to the courtyard, the huge room filled with books and a few people walking around. But there is no door in sight. I proceed along the walkway, following the library wall, looking for ways in - I find none. When I at last come across a door, quite a ways along, I peer through its window and see just another corridor; narrow, curving, dark, empty, dimly lit with yellow lights here and there. It gives me an eerie feeling.

I retrace my steps to the courtyard and wonder how this can be. A woman in uniform (looking like an employee) marches briskly towards where I am, turns sharply to face the library wall, and shouts out an admonishment to the people inside while raising and bringing down her arm, just once, in a forceful slicing motion. The courtyard window seems to pop out of the walls a few feet, revealing hidden side walls which are also full-length glass - and then, as I watch from the side, the whole library slides forward out of the concrete at a dizzying speed, while shouts and protests come from inside - I see people leap up from their desks and gesticulate angrily towards the now departing woman. The library comes to a stop with a glass door now in front of me. I enter.

This is a library I used to visit often as a child. Not anymore, however - when I was 11 I lost a book and was too ashamed to go own up and pay the fine, so I never went back. The guilt has never gone away...

Old one!

1. (Fragment)

Lucid - although I barely remember. I stand at my kitchen counter in blue darkness, my mum on the other side, and pinch my nose for a reality check. It fails, and I know that I am dreaming - I wonder faintly how to keep my mum from finding out.

2.

I dream a song - it is a rap or more accurately, spoken. I recall hearing it in full, with distinct rhythm and what felt to be profoundly meaningful words, though I can't remember much now.

When I think of Amy Wine/
_.._.._/
_.._..and/
Laid the foundations/
Of beauty...

The song resounds in my mind as I fly over the city and the rooftops, feeling like a shooting star. The sky fades between several hazy, painted landscapes - sunsets, mornings - beaming light and colour. They are by her - she was an artist, surely.

3.

I am walking through the streets around my home - touring someone around, perhaps - perhaps I am experiencing a TV show about my area. It feels like that - like I'm not really here. Someone else's voice in my head explains to me what I'm seeing. I pass down a cobbled street, introducing the viewer to the pastry factory on the other side of the street - although it looks like a warehouse it makes the best cakes, and they're cheap! (IRL in its supposed location there is in fact a small film studio - it does look like a warehouse.) It's evening and the sky is indigo with a blurry slice of cold yellow at the bottom. I am heading home with a spring in my step - it should be almost dinnertime.

Once I'm back in my room, I reach for something on my desk and it's not there - strange - only a gap. This makes me feel odd so I move a few other objects to fill the space and placate my suspicions. When I look over to my bedside table, too, things I thought would be there are missing. My confusion grows and I rearrange some trinkets and ornaments so it looks normal, to take my mind off the weirdness.

I check my phone; I have an email notification. My parents were discussing my always being late and what they should do about it (??). It seems I was late to dinner tonight and my dad's response was to confiscate loads of my belongings. I can't believe he'd do this without even telling me, and the next thing I find missing, I storm out to confront him about it. I can't remember his response.

4. (Fragment)

An attic dimly lit with blue light. Open cardboard boxes are about, books stacked inside. There is a bookshelf against the back wall opposite the door and a small window in the slant of the roof.

Notes:

- More technology.
- Dream music! Who else has this happened to?
- Seems like a trend (with my last lucid dream) that despite being lucid I don't want DCs to know I'm dreaming or see me do anything abnormal. I really wonder why...

I'm travelling through the Underground with my boyfriend (?). We cross a metallic grey, wide passage, leading from a tunnel to the escalators. White lights beam down from the ceiling and reflect off the walls. I walk behind him as we step onto the escalator. His broad back in front of me makes me feel safe.

Later, I am with some friends, still in the same Underground station. We step off an escalator and walk through a short tunnel towards the platform entrance. I get a shock as we enter - almost the whole platform has crumbled away, leaving narrow irregular ledges that cling to the wall, bricks sticking out here and there below. We hold close to the wall as we inch along the platform, finding our footing with difficulty. I'm terrified of falling onto the tracks.

Then I am in class, but not in a classroom. There's another, similarly dilapidated platform that we are inching along, murky water lapping almost up to the edge. I reach an unstable part with nowhere to place my feet - the next ledge is too far of a leap, and I know that the nearest foothold won't hold me. It's too small. I can't bear the thought of touching that water, so I crouch down against the wall in despair and refuse to move.

A fruitful night.

1.

I'm at school, wandering around, up and down stairs, through empty corridors. No-one is around. All the stairways and passages seem much longer than usual.

I stop on a huge landing at the bottom of the stairs, at ground floor level. The wall to outside is a large expanse of glass, shimmering panes from floor to ceiling. Outside is a raised platform paved with gravel, walled in to the left by another glassy extension to the building while the other two sides face into the open air.

A girl comes up the stairs from the basement and pauses when she sees me on the landing. She is in uniform - a younger girl - and has a ponytail of bushy, light brown hair. We talk although I can't remember what about. Then she turns to the windows and says, boldly, "I'm going to go out on to the balcony!". I gasp. The balcony is off-limits to students because it gives a clear view into the staff room (the other room on the left) and we are not supposed to see in there. She pushes open a door in the glass and purposefully walks out. I feel terrified that she'll be caught. Suddenly, my perspective shifts: I'm on the other side of the staff room, where there is no balcony, standing slightly below the ground floor level and looking in. I see, through blue glass, rows of desks with computers and chairs. I am shocked to see that the room is completely empty.

Later, I am in a brightly lit hallway on the top floor. Although there are no windows I feel very high up. I walk with another girl, who says she wants to find a bathroom - I know her, she is somewhat tall and has long blonde hair. The bathrooms are along this hallway. She says she doesn't like those tiny narrow cubicles, and prefers the wide ones, so I direct her towards one bathroom which has a few larger cubicles. She ignores me and enters the one next door, only to find every cubicle occupied. Annoyed, she returns, and we go in. It is a very bright and spacious room with white tile up the walls. We pass the sinks and turn the corner to see a row of five large cubicles, and several smaller ones opposite. A few are occupied - I see curly hair over the top of a door - but some are open, and she enters one. I hang about outside, waiting, leaning against the wall.

2.

The sun beams down on us as I cycle, with a group of others, around a gorgeous flower field. Just as I become aware of myself, I see I am crossing a broad flat wooden bridge - though no water in sight - and I look up. We are cycling over a 'path' of slightly flattened and crushed grass, which runs all round at the edge of the huge oval-shaped field. Long grasses are waving and among them crowd pink, purple, blue, red and yellow wildflowers, small, tall, pretty. The air has a sweet grassy smell and the sun shines down warmly, making the whole field glimmer. I think how it's been so long since I last cycled, but it's true that you really don't forget - it feels so free and easy, flying over the grass on my bike. Another girl passes me, lightning-fast and scarily close, causing me to lose my balance and veer over to the fence around the wide edge of the path.

I stop right by the fence and put one foot on the ground. Here is dark green, cool and shady, with climbing and overhanging foliage winding around and above the fence and the trees outside it. The fence is white and curvy, two running rails with periodic posts sticking into the ground. Ivy clambers over it and obscures much of the metalwork from view. I lean over and see a deep, muddy ditch on the other side. I'm taking a moment to rest when another cyclist - a boy this time - comes barreling up the path and almost crashes into me. He stops himself at the last minute and proceeds to angrily yell at me: "Stop by the fence, idiot!" I cry back indignantly, "This is the fence! Can't you see?". He flushes red and rapidly takes off again.

I resume cycling, though stop regularly by the fence. At one point, I look over it and see rushing water. Its calming sound washes over me as I pan my gaze across the field.

3.

School again. I am in French class, in our little room at the top of the main building. We are all chatting and gossiping with the French teacher as we often do. I start telling her about when I saw into the staff room and it was empty - and I see her expression growing almost murderous...

4.

Leaving my house, on a rather grey day, I turn to see one of the neighborhood cats sitting in the street a little further up. He's a friendly black cat (and very fluffy) so I head over to say hello. I crouch down to stroke him, and he stands, turning his head towards me while raising his fluffy tail in the air - exactly like a picture of him my dad sent me last week.

Really happy with these dreams - it's rare that I remember so many. And cat! I love dreaming about cats.

It's starting to get really quiet around here so I hope all the people who haven't been online recently will be back soon. I'm missing having everyone's DJs to read

From a station somewhat close to my house (about 20 mins on foot) I take a train to see my friend. The platform extends out from under a tunnel of square white arches, and it's bright with daylight, but everything seems to get darker and narrower once I step onto the train and the doors close.

I get off at 'Westminster' after a half-hour ride*. Her house isn't far - next thing I'm there. It's much larger than her real house. She opens a huge black front door to let me in and we walk through a long, high hallway to the kitchen and dining room at the end. After a bit of chatter I open the fridge as if it's my house and rummage through to see what we could have for dinner. Chicken and chips, I suggest - and ice cream. 'Ice cream?' she repeats sceptically. 'Well,' I reply, a little embarrassed, 'I guess we don't need that.'

We make dinner and proceed with plates down another long, white corridor, into a vast and bare living room. The ceiling is double height and the walls are panelled and painted white. There is a white sofa in the middle of the room and a TV against the opposite wall. (Seriously this is all - IRL her house is a MESS) We settle down to watch together, chatting meanwhile.

I can't remember our conversation, though I recall it was interesting. Later, I leave, heading through yet another winding corridor through this maze of a house back to the front door (now, it's white). She unlatches the door and pulls it open for me as I step out into the dark chill night. I take the train home again - it's dark and eerily quiet - and finally shut my own front door behind me with a sigh.

I remember, later on, my mum appearing to rant at me about how I can't just keep coming and going from my friend's house every week. I ignore her.

*This is not where she lives, nor can you get there from the station where I was - besides, I always walk to her house.