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    13 Visitor Messages

    1. View Conversation
      Happy birthday!
    2. View Conversation
      You're welcome! How's the book?
    3. View Conversation
      Happy birthday
    4. View Conversation
      You may like this guy, he's similarly bizarre like beardyman and makes music with his voice:

    5. View Conversation
      Far out dude :]
    6. View Conversation
      Esher....close to Surbiton, worked there. That's mad close though, I'm in Wallington.

      Ahh I know the feeling, Sussex was my uni...still feels like home. Brighton was cool = can talk about LD without being crazy.
    7. View Conversation
      South London, Surrey. Do you bounce around from London to Leeds and vice versa?
    8. View Conversation
      Hey dude that's great! Yeah I love Liquicity <3 You should totally tell me about it when you send it, I'd love to see it
    9. View Conversation
      Nice to see someone else in Leeds who knows about lding
    10. View Conversation
      I know! It draws you in and you just keep staring at it. Very enthralling.
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    About moSh

    Basic Information

    Date of Birth
    September 8
    About moSh
    LD Count:
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    Music in all its forms
    How you found us:
    Researching dreams


    DILD [ ] /// Chain a Lucid Dream [ ] /// Stabilise [ ] /// Ask someone what the time is [ ]
    Turn on a computer and jump into it [ ] /// Fly out the Earth's atmosphere [ ] /// Telekinesis [ ] /// Jump through door [ ]
    Listen to my favourite record [ ] /// Jump down two flights of steps without breaking the old kneecaps [ ] /// Smoke a fatty [ ]


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    Recent Entries

    I Don't Know How To Play Guitar!

    by moSh on 07-20-2016 at 01:52 PM
    I Don't Know How To Play Guitar! (DILD)


    I'm at a gig, having just performed, though what exactly I did escapes me. I watch a man in his 60s come on stage briefly with his guitar before going off again, presumably to fix a broken string. The crowd are cheering excitedly so I gather that he's well-known.

    He comes back on, but instead of playing he goes straight into a forward flip stage dive. Watching from the stage, I wince as it looks like he slams his feet down into someone's head, though no one seems to mind. We--me and a few others onstage--watch it replayed in front of us (though not on a screen), and it definitely looks painful.

    Lots of people are already crowd surfing so I decide to join in, and notice how quickly I'm passed over the crowd; it's like floating on a river. As I start to near the back of the crowd I realise I'm performing again soon and need to head back, and merely pointing towards the stage makes the crowd pull me there instantly.

    I get off the stage and walk past security into the backstage area. I navigate a load of corridors and notice how incredibly ornate everything is. It's like a palace, or a temple.

    I'm looking for some kind of dressing room but have no idea exactly what. I know I'm on soon, and get the feeling I'm meant to be playing guitar, but that's it. I've never played guitar in my life.

    Finally I find a guy who asks me what I need and I tell him: I'm performing soon need to find a dressing room. He points to the closed door beside him. I tell him I'm supposed to be playing guitar so need to learn how. Halfway through saying this it hits me: I don't know how to play guitar--it's a dream.

    I tell him, '...but it's a dream so...', and, not knowing quite what to do with this realisation, front flip magically through the closed door. I land on my back and wake up.

    Updated 07-20-2016 at 04:32 PM by moSh


    That's How Much I Want This Job

    by moSh on 07-12-2016 at 08:25 PM
    That's How Much I Want This Job (Non-lucid)


    So I'm currently job-hunting, and there's a particular job that should've gotten back to me this week--one that I want massively.

    The first part I remember is having to crawl across a large pipe above a huge pool of sewage. It stinks even worse than normal sewage I'm sure, and has a distinct vomit smell to it. I'm with three other people at least, split into two groups, though I don't think we're competing at this point.

    Me and a girl are taking it in turns to try and cross, but we fall off and into the sewage often. This then makes the pipe more slippery, and makes it harder and harder for us to not throw up ourselves. The girl is using a plate to throw up on so that it doesn't go directly onto the pipe. I don't throw up but I've never been able to taste such a horrific smell in my life. It even follows me into waking life when my alarm goes.

    I'm then in a skate park kind of setting, but instead of ramps there is a large multicoloured canvas stretching over about 200 square metres, and raised unevenly at various points, as if a sort of tent roof.

    I repeatedly (at least five times) climb up on one side and walk tentatively over what I deem to be the strongest parts to the other side, before jumping down and starting again. I do this in the hopes that it will help me get the job. There are two other people doing the same, far away from me, and one guy in particular I can see; he often picks up a skateboard and attempts to skate on it slowly. I worry that this will get him more points.

    Shortly after, in the same area, I'm on an astroturf pitch with various others a competing for the job. There is a coach-type figure, who will decide who gets it. Among the other applicants are some people I knew from school, but never really liked very much.

    I can't remember if there's anything he gets us to do, but I go off to the toilet, before worrying that I could be missing valuable time to impress the coach. I realise I've been complacent about my chances, and notice that there are still a lot of people in line to get the job.

    I dread to think of the people from my school getting it, as I feel they don't deserve it (they're not even in the same line of work as I am).

    Death in the House of Cards

    by moSh on 07-01-2016 at 11:53 PM
    Death in the House of Cards (Non-lucid)


    First one back. Pretty basic, but it's a start.

    I'm in the world of House Of Cards, in some sort of lab. There's some weird green insect, about the size of a small dog, being extracted from Frank--I don't know what for.

    A woman doctor is trying to not let me die, while undertaking some kind of operation, I suspect to make me stronger or something. The whole lab ignites from her intensely passionate concentration.

    As I leave, I see a guy flicking through politicians' profiles on his computer--including Donald Trump--trying to decide who next to target for whatever reason. He says to me, 'watch the exit'. Walking through the lobby of the building I see someone I recognise say 'I want to shoot someone today'. An innocent passerby overhears but it's too late, and one of the politicians I've just seen on the computer is killed in the crowd.

    I walk out the unguarded exit, as part of this was clearly meant to be a distraction. I look to the left to see Trump walking out of the building in a different direction, and I suspect he has been turned into a sleeper agent.



    by moSh on 01-05-2013 at 05:38 AM
    Mugged (Non-lucid)


    This dream was pretty intense and vivid, and I woke up with a racing heartbeat. Exciting though.

    I'm on a bus with my bags and bedding on the seat next to me. The bus is about a quarter full.

    A man that I feel I've seen before [in a previous dream, perhaps?] gets on and tries to sit next to me, despite the countless empty seats elsewhere. He's large, dirty and wears a wedding ring on a purple, frost-bite-looking finger.

    I resist, pushing my bags against him, as I suspect he's up to something. I begin to think he may be intending to beg, and feel bad, thinking people might judge me for denying a poor beggar.

    Within seconds, however, I see that he's managed to get my phone, iPod and wallet and is hiding them between his legs. I grab my wallet, falling over him into the aisle, shouting

    "This man is trying to rob me, someone please help"

    People gasp, but don't move. I drop my wallet at the feet of a man in the middle back seat, who slips it into his bag. I give him a look of thanks, knowing I can trust him to give it back to me later.

    I get up on my knees and look at the mugger, contemplating fighting him. The feeling that he'd win easily suddenly washes over me, and he explains that stronger people have tried and failed, and he now seems extremely confident.

    As I begin to walk away, I find my feet (metaphorically speaking) and turn round to say

    "I'm not the biggest fan of the police, but I'm pretty sure that they're very good at their jobs, and pretty soon they WILL get you. And when they do, rest assured that I'll ask them to give you a right kick in the balls from me!"

    and walk off the bus to the sound of everyone cheering.

    For some reason I soon get back on the bus for the remainder of my journey, and head back upstairs, avoiding the mugger who now sits comfortably at the back. The rest of the passengers sit in fear.

    While looking out the window, I get a tap on the shoulder. The mugger offers me my phone, and I scowl at him, trying to figure out his angle, but he tells me it's ringing.

    I answer it to my mum, but it's just an answerphone message, and I think to myself I'll ring her later. I give the phone back to the mugger, who's now walking about the top floor, talking one-sidedly to the frightened passengers.

    As I go down the stairs I overhear him saying it's only 2 stops until Nottingham Street [not sure if that's a real place, but I was recently in Nottingham for New Years], and I come to the assumption that that's where he's getting off. I now know where to tell the police to find him.

    I wait til the bus reaches its next stop and plan to sprint towards the crowded center of town that we'd just driven through. However, when I end up getting off the bus I instead begin writing down the events, as if in a dream journal so that I won't forget, as well as drawing an amazingly detailed picture of an abstract eye.

    Remembering my initial plan, I get my phone out (which is mysteriously back in my possession) and ring 999. I ask for the police, but can't hear the man on the other end, who asks a series of irrelevant questions. The line eventually breaks up.

    I contemplate ringing back, but I decide it's too late [time starts to merge as I begin to wake up].

    Looks like he got away with it.
    non-lucid , memorable

    Lucidity Class

    by moSh on 01-04-2013 at 02:01 PM
    Lucidity Class (Non-lucid)


    I'm in a classroom in a lucid dreaming class, feeling complacent as I know more than everyone else.

    As the teacher starts to talk about reality checks, I hover out of my chair and fly around the classroom, while everyone moans that I'm showing off.
    non-lucid , dream fragment