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      Summerlander, are you still in the UK? add me as friend <3
    2. Thank you!
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      Welcome to the forum Summerlander!
      I remember seeing you on astral-viewers back in the day, and I must say I am glad to have you with us.
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    THE PHASE = waking consciousness during sleep hybridisation at 40Hz of brainwave activity conducive to lucid dreaming and autoscopy.


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    12-22-2020 11:22 AM
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    Recent Entries

    The Mona Lisa Experiment

    by Summerlander on 11-21-2021 at 09:56 PM
    Date: 20/11/2021
    Bedtime: 1.30am
    Awakening: 8.45am
    Return to bed: 9am
    Method of entry: deferred direct
    Awakening: 10.30am
    Attempt: successful
    Phase experience: The Mona Lisa Experiment
    Duration: 50 seconds


    I wake up to feed my mum's Yorkshire terriers and leave them to play in the back garden before returning to bed to try the direct method of entering the phase state. Because I feel tired, it is easy to relax on my back—which is not my usual position to fall asleep in but ideal for reaching hypnagogia under the circumstances. Before long, a series of fleeting images manifests until a perceived lapse of consciousness.


    I become aware of standing in a living-room replica, realistically surrounded by Christmas decorations, and remember to look for the Mona Lisa portrait for Project Elijah. I go through the back door like a ghost in order to access the garden where I believe Mona Lisa is to be found. What I find, instead, is what appears to be a basketball court with some characters milling about and no Leonardo da Vinci painting in sight; however, the surroundings brick walls display colourful graffiti. I focus on a particular wall replete with complex art and fail to detect anything that resembles a portrait—and even after looking away and back at the surface to summon the Renaissance picture, hardly anything changes. I carefully move along the wall in order to examine it carefully and come to a central square about the size of an A2 canvas containing geometric shapes; as I tilt my head, I begin to make pictorial sense of it—the image depicts a vehicle headed downhill and appears to be partially cropped by a shrugging cartoon character that can be best described as a clueless bald man pouting.

    I return to the house expecting Mona Lisa to be present in the living room but I encounter an altered interior dominated by more graffiti. I ascend from the floor and pass through the white ceiling with plans to access an imagined upper level containing da Vinci's masterpiece but find myself floating in darkness instead. Due to a cold, I begin to hear my laboured breathing and snoring in my sleep, which immediately strikes me as paradoxical because I am awake and hovering in a dark, phantom space. I'm losing depth of perception so I start rubbing my hands and notice the sound it produces getting louder. I also slowly spin in the void in order to create a vestibular sense and preclude sensations of lying in bed. A vertical column of white light emerges a few feet away and appears to moderately define a sombre bedroom environment in which I perceive myself to be facing partially drawn curtains.

    An edgy man in black resembling the actor Dennis Haysbert (who plays the troubled President David Palmer in the TV series 24) is restlessly pacing up and down next to the bed and mumbling incoherently. My judgement is askew here: even though I take the man in black to be a hallucination, I believe I can get a head start in recording my sleep experiences by rushing to my bedside cabinet to get a pen and a piece of paper. As I sit on the bed, and before I can open the drawer, the neurotic man in black approaches and sighs exasperatedly. Surmising this figure to be a frustrated aspect of myself, I hold his hand and invite him to take a seat and relax. 'I can help you!' I say as I take both of his hands. The man squats down in front of me and sardonically replies, 'Really?!' I get the impression that he has no faith in me when he gives me a wry smile. Suddenly, he grips my hands and his countenance takes a devious turn; dreadful, malevolent eyes leer at me—his physiognomy now similar to Tony Todd's when he played the demonic Candyman back in the '90s.

    As I try to break free from the grapple, he cocks his head to the side to reveal an extra almond eye on his cheekbone. I assess the situation in Jungian terms and regard the aggressor as possibly representing a shadowy aspect of myself which I have perhaps been denying on some unconscious level and now an opportunity presents itself to potentially address my dark side, as it were. This view, however, doesn't allay my fear in the slightest and wrestling with this figure is proving too much to handle. 'You need to be gone!' I shout as I shake the shadowy monster off me, making it magically vanish in an engulfing dark background. Now I feel a presence behind me and an arm wraps itself around my torso. I want to believe that I'm perceiving my wife cuddling me in the real world as I am still shaken by the unpleasant encounter with the man in black. I briefly wake up and my sleeping wife has her arm around me as suspected and wished for. I can hear the dogs barking in the back garden, making me a little annoyed with the noise they are making in the neighborhood. I'm tired and fall asleep.


    I am at a crowded Canning Town train station in East London. As I walk around, the surroundings morph into a Tate Modern gallery displaying exquisite metal sculptures and Bauhaus images in mostly black, white and blue (a lot less colourful than the graffiti art I'd seen earlier). There is a frustration in me as I'm not quite sure what I am looking for but I know it is not what I see. I exit what appears to now be Twickenham Stadium and my wife and children—who are a lot younger and smaller than they ought to be—happen to be with me. Suddenly, a heavyset Asian man appears to have been kicked out of the stadium and does not look happy. In his irascible state, he cursed at a group of men in high vis vests and I move the kids to safety. A rottweiler, chained to a bollard, constantly barks and snaps at the enraged man who threatens to punch the animal. A couple of bystanders restrain him before he has a chance to hurt the dog but subsequently let him go when he appears to calm down. A crowd carefully observes him and he begins to feel like a potential terrorist. He picks a fight with the group of workers and the police turns up. I wake up to the sound of barking.


    I reflect on my experiences and jot them down, noting that I could not find Mona Lisa in the phase state. In hindsight, the subsequent dream state reveals cues—such as absurd environmental changes and my kids being the wrong age—which I failed to recognise in order to promote consciousness of the true nature of its events. I do suspect the terrorist in the dream reflected my anger at the barking in the real world, which needs to be recognised and kept in check. Time to see to the dogs.

    The Relative Experiment

    by Summerlander on 09-19-2021 at 11:45 PM
    Date: 15/09/2021
    Bedtime: 2.45am
    Awakening: 7.15am
    Return to bed: 9.15am
    Method of entry: dream consciousness
    Awakening: 11.30am
    Attempt: successful
    Phase experience: The Relative Experiment
    Duration: 55 seconds


    I return home from a school run with a strong intention to enter the phase state and carry out the experiment set by Project Elijah. I feel too awake when I lie down on my back so I decide to relax and meditate.


    I am resting on my side with my eyes shut and hear a male 'radio' voice in my head. It's reassuring me that together we can overcome any problems and ended with, 'Don't worry, I'm always here if you need me ... I've got your back.' I feel like I have discovered a strong ally from my subconscious and take the voice seriously enough as a possible helper that I might wish to summon in the future. As I remain still, pondering about the nature of my own mind, I fall asleep.


    Me and my wife are in the back of a red convertible, speeding down a motorway under sunny weather and facing the rear end of the vehicle as we watch a long stretch of road from our backseats. Our chauffeur, who seems to be a good driver, is unknown. Suddenly, I notice a naked man holding on to the side of the car. I leap in his direction and, fearing he might be trying to hijack our ride, attempt to kick him off it. The nude character proves to be quite agile and swiftly jumps to the bonnet and holds on for dear life. I begin to cautiously approach the miscreant in the hope that I might be able to strike him but this one moves to the driver's side. He holds on to the side mirror and struggles with the driver; wasting no time, I come to the rescue, managing to push him off the vehicle as it grinds to a halt with sirens growing louder.

    The police is right behind us and the naked outlaw makes a dash for a barn on the side of the road in order to hide. 'There he is!' I yell at the cops as I give chase so as to not lose sight of the fugitive. I enter the barn and glimpse him escaping through a gap in the next splintered wall. Rushing to the gap, I break loose planks of wood in order to widen it and become astonished at the rustic vista beyond as I practically stand on the edge of a gully. 'Where did he go?' I look down and see a river shimmering in the sunlight. 'Am I dreaming?'


    I plunge into the river from a great height without any regard for safety as I know I'm dreaming. The water feels just right. When I resurface and begin to swim along the steep riverbank, I notice that the scenery has turned into a vibrant, picturesque village. The riverbank is now a row of buildings and I leap out of the water to grip the plastic sill of a third-floor window, climbing upwards and turning my head to behold the rest of my surroundings and knowing that I am supposed to do something for Project Elijah. That's it! This is my opportunity to encounter my deceased mother-in-law Sandra and communicate with her for 'The Relative Experiment'. I glide away from the windowsill as I make out a building that stands out from the rest: it's an impressive black silo, clearly cylindrical and wide enough to remind me of a giant bin, but majestically adorned with gold-plated lines and a cross. The entrance is guarded by the figure of a black man wearing a cassock and I immediately take the structure to be a church.

    'That's where I'll find Sandra! She's inside the church!' I go over the priest's head and fly all the way to the top of the silo, revealing it to be open and offering me direct access to its interior. I gradually descend to find myself landing between rows of pews and an altar, next to which is an open coffin. I hear the unmistakable coughing of my mother-in-law and witness her figure sit up from the ebony casket. Despite her strikingly realistic form, I am not scared even if a part of me emotionally entertains the possibility that I might be in the presence of Sandra's spirit. In fact, I want it to be her, but I also want to know exactly what I'm dealing with here. She looks and sounds so real! Her trim silver hair, her facial features and her familiar voice are on the money! She is well groomed, sporting a silky blue shirt and her frame is strong and healthy—contrasting her gaunt appearance in her final days. She seems distressed as she coughs and appears to be clearing her throat. When she is done, she looks up and bursts into tears before we have an emotional cuddle and sit next to each other by the altar to engage in the following conversation containing the questions I had planned beforehand ...

    Sandra: 'What took you so long?'
    Me: 'I'm here! How can I make Stacey happier?'
    Sandra: 'Look after my girl!'
    Me: 'I will, no worries. So ... What is your afterlife like?'
    Sandra: (Cheerfully) 'Oooh, I've been to the moon! I've been to marvelous places! I can go anywhere! I've got mushrooms ...'
    Me: (excitedly thinking of magic mushrooms and that Sandra might show me what she experienced via psychedelics) 'What? Let's take them!'
    Sandra: 'Come, come!'

    She gets up and takes my hand, leading me towards a doorway revealing another room with a few people gathering around a banquet characterised by a lot of fruit. Before I can enter the room with Sandra, I wake up unexpectedly.


    I dash off key observations about my lucid dream and reflect on the experience. It is not the first time I meet Sandra, or deceased loved ones for that matter, in the phase state, but it is always an intense and emotional experience. Seeing and talking to them fills me with joy and I always act as though it is really them. Deep down, I want such figures to really be them and not mere products of my mind.

    In hindsight, Sandra answered my first question regarding my wife as I imagine she would. Undoubtedly, my mother-in-law would want me to look after her daughter in her absence from the realm of the living. To the second question, Sandra replied in a manner giving a strong impression that I was really engaged in a dialogue with myself. I didn't realise it at the time, but, retrospectively, the fact that my mother-in-law said she had been to the moon coincides with my original plan to meet her, which was, 'Fly to the moon and find Sandra there.' And affirming her ability to go to marvelous places and anywhere she wants parallels my attitude to lucid dreaming and its possibilities.

    The very first thing Sandra said to me in this experience, which was ask what took me so long to meet her, can tellingly reflect my internal dialogue after finally manifesting the conditions in which to execute this experiment. The mention of 'mushrooms'—which I instantly took to be the fungal growths containing psilocybin—in the reply to the afterlife question also seems out of character for the real Sandra and more pertinent to my own experience with psychedelics in my twenties. I often imagine deathbed visions to be akin to psychedelic trips brought about by the release of endorphins!

    Nevertheless, there is a desire to believe that such experiences are encounters with the spirits of loved ones who passed away. Deep down, with all the emotions that this experience brought forth, I reluctantly refuse to dismiss, altogether, a scenario where I have communed with the real Sandra—who had access to personal memories of experimenting with magic mushrooms and used it to convey to me what her afterlife has been like—however improbable it is.

    Trump Party and Wife Car Accident

    by Summerlander on 06-01-2021 at 02:34 AM


    At a party, my father asks Donald Trump if he can have his drink which rests on a table. Trump gets annoyed and moves away from him with contempt. My father, with the same grouchy mannerism and frowning, takes the drink anyway while Trump is distracted with other people. After the party, during the clean-up, I'm required to get sugar. There is a bag by the feet of a tall statue with a hole in it. When I lift it, all the sugar leaks out and falls through a gap on the floor landing on the lower floor of a dark basement.

    I access the basement via stairs to find Mamph, an old acquaintance, working there and ask her if she can find me some sugar. She wears headphones and appears to be listening to music. Initially, she seems to know me but when it's time to leave she treats me like a complete stranger and asks me what else she can do for me like I'm just a customer. I question her mental competence to myself. As we leave the basement I think that it is a good thing that Mamph works there by herself.

    Outside, it feels like we are in daytime central London and there is snow everywhere. We meet Stacey and Mamph immediately recognises her. I'm no longer a stranger as a giggling Mamph tells my wife that I'm sweet for asking her for sugar. I feel uneasy about her mental state but nevertheless we agree that she's driving us home. I get in her car and sit in the back. Outside, the sky quickly darkens. Stacey barely sits in the front seat when Mamphs drives off. The door swings open and my wife falls out, rolling numerous times over the tarmac stopping next to a kerb. I scream to get Mamph to stop the car and rush out to grab Stacey. She looks unconscious as I try to get her up. As I hold her up, she seems groggy and possibly concussed. I need to get help as I fear for my wife's wellbeing. I feel extremely sad and desperate at the thought of losing her.

    I wake up from this emotionally charged dream. I am relieved and glad to see that my darling is okay and sleeping soundly next to me.

    Recent Dream fragments

    by Summerlander on 02-04-2021 at 07:24 PM
    Date: 02/02/2021
    Bedtime: 3.30am
    Awakening: 6.50am
    Return to bed: 7.10am
    Recall: reversed

    *Ozzy Osbourne is a lone hero seeking to exact revenge upon the forces of evil that, through witchcraft and black magic, have victimised people with rape, torture and murder. The demonic dark shadow is on the prowl and its crimes are literally sketchy—ranging from cartoon images to fully-fledged film-like scenes. A song that appears to be sung by David Bowie plays as Ozzy hunts the demon. I wake up a few minutes before 7am to use the loo.

    *Three people around a table summon a dark demon as tall as a tree constantly whispering the unspeakable. This demon possesses through their feet if they are dirty and touch the floor, cursing them forever. I am one of the three, but I remove my feet from the floor at the last minute as I watch the other two get devoured by supernatural evil. I run away.

    Date: 03/02/2021
    Bedtime: 3.40am
    Awakening: 8am
    Return to bed: 8.05am
    Awakening: 10.30am
    Recall: sequential

    *An armed terrorist is plotting to blow up a church run by unpleasant people. I know about this when I befriend him. Eventually, the dream plot turns into the set of a film where we are playing our roles. Drunk Barry is now the armed terrorist ad-libbing off-script which upsets the other actors. He is also shooting characters when he's not supposed to and for some reason the director cannot cut. He shoots me which means I have to pretend to be injured. Then he tries to do it again to kill but I grab the gun as he wields it and make him miss. He gives up on me and sets his attention on other victims playing their roles. Channing Tatum is the next target.

    *In London which resembles a Dickensian era and streets have French names. I work for a company in an office job with geeky colleagues who resemble the comedians from the Triggernometry podcast. One of them is trying to impress a female co-worker by getting naked and walking past her workspace. We are all laughing at him because she is clearly not interested. We go to a pub and I see a man that looks like porn star Ron Jeremy, wearing an unbuttoned shirt revealing a hairy chest, ordering a beer.

    Date: 04/02/2021
    Bedtime: 1.15am
    Awakening: 2.30am
    Return to bed: 2.35am
    Awakening: 5.30am
    Return to bed:
    Recall: sequential

    *Hitmen are after me and try to kill me. I'm a great fighter and manage to murder them and disguise myself in order to evade authorities. I am tracked down to a public swimming pool with a massive slide which I end up using during a fight. Massive muscular men come after me and I continue to fight them. A colossal Mexican man who works as a chef is defeated and I make fun of him afterwards. Suddenly, Zanguief from Street Fighter—who happens to be the strongest man in the world—challenges me.

    *I'm walking through a desert and I start filming a fast-moving UFO darting across the sky towards the horizon. Suddenly, I notice a peculiar saucer-shaped drone apparently observing me and subsequently bumps into my camera. Looming over the horizon, I notice a huge mothership. I feel like the world has been invaded by aliens and hordes of frightened people are running away from the spaceship. But I notice that they are running from military men on the ground who begin to capture some of them and enslave them—as though they are forming a dictatorship on the go. They come after me, too, and they get pretty close. They look like cartoons that escaped from an arcade game. The situation feels nightmarish and I wake up.

    Ordinary Dream State Entries

    by Summerlander on 12-24-2020 at 01:42 PM
    Dream state:

    I go to bed around 2am and set Lucid Dreamer app's delay time for a sleep cue at 180 minutes.

    A horrible quasimodo arrives a
    at a party and starts murdering everyone. I notice a girl is scared and hide with her in a bathroom.

    For a moment, I think a dangerous triceratops is coming and an image of one flashes in my head. I peek outside, it looks like an aquarium, there is music redolent of a Jurassic Park show, and the murderer is coming. Now we hide in a basement (no longer a bathroom).

    The quasimodo has a flat, deformed head, as though missing part of his brain, but he is a large human with an indifferent facial expression. He enters the basement and I jump on his broad back to stab his deformed head with a sharp object.

    I wake up with Lucid Dreamer app's auditory cue which surprisingly sounds exactly like the Jurassic Park tune from my dream. Now I know what it sounds like! The app's visual cue is flashing and lights up the room. It's 5.15am. I record the dream and use the loo before returning to bed at 5.45am.

    Lucid Dreamer app's cue set to go off in 60 minutes and sound is lowered.

    Waking state:

    I return to bed just before 6am, having recorded a dream and used the loo. Lucid Dreamer app's cue set to go off in an hour. I lie down on my back and relax. Soon, dream impressions manifest but don't last. I cycle through brief visual and auditory hallucinations, a process that my wife interrupts as she tosses and turns in her sleep.

    I lose consciousness and come too just before 7am with the app's auditory cue going off. I hear white noise in my head. I turn off the sound cue and adopt a sideways position. A pulsatile hiss emerges in my head and seems to get faster and louder.

    Phase state:

    I aggressively roll out of bed and stand, pulling the cover with me and disturbing my wife. The room is dark and I apologise to my wife who chuckles and tells me she gathered that I was trying to have an out-of-body experience. Suddenly, I'm back in bed realising I had actually achieved a false awakening. I fall asleep.

    Dream state:

    I'm in a car with a man that resembles Raj, a former local butcher. He is driving me around town and comes close to having a few accidents but the car transmutes regularly. Even though such shapeshifting is impossible in real life, I merely find it interesting and remark to the driver that it's quite 'cool'.

    We finally crash into another vehicle and a family becomes argumentative. A teenage girl starts quizzing us about the car and road manoueuvres that led to the accident. I feel like she's trying to embarrass us, as I struggle to address her questions. I don't want to be here.

    I'm sitting in a bed with two strangers resembling Iggy Pop and Glen Benton from death metal band Deicide. I am holding my smartphone and listening death metal music. All three of us enjoy the fast drumbeats, menacing guitar riffs and guttural vocals until 'Glen' leaves the room. There is a third party in the room, sitting with me and 'Iggy'.

    This druggie-like character is in his underwear and appears to have a semi-erection. 'Are you gay?' Iggy asks. 'No. Honestly,' I hear the reply, 'It's going down.' He covers his crotch and presses down on his bulge. Me and Iggy stand up and stare at him.

    I wake up around 10.40am.

    These dreams were recorded using the Lucid Dreamer app for the first time. The 'phase state' simply means the hybrid brain state that combines wakefulness and dreaming at gamma frequencies---where, besides lucid dreams, false awakenings manifest. The phase state can be mistaken for the waking state until the person becomes lucid, i.e., recognises it isn't real.

    Updated 12-24-2020 at 01:46 PM by Summerlander (Italicise a section)