Boundless Worlds

Non-Lucid Dream, Wednesday, December 7, 2016:

I am with an older man on the streets of an early-industrial city (pre electricity, few motor vehicles). His name is John Whitstone. The atmosphere is generally dark and dirty; the city is packed tight. We end up down a wider alleyway, where we see some kind of mob meeting. Obviously criminal in nature. Then the authorities come and break it up, arresting John. They begin holding a mass trial in the alley, with a long line of prisoners. I've become a witness. "Be careful what you say..." whispers one of the other witnesses. First up is a young lady. I don't recall her crime, something to do with magic, but she testifies for her own innocence beautifully. I actually get a bit emotional over it all. But the guard knocks her down a pit, presumably to her death. "Real justice this is," I think to myself. Then John's "trial" begins. The judge refers to him by my (in dream) name, which I do not recall. Immediately, I object: "There must be a mistake, as I am (name here). This man is John Whitstone!" The judge seems barely interested, but stops to question me. "You are (name here)? And he is 'John Whitstone'?" He seems indignant that I would question the court. "YES, he is John Whitstone," I reply, "John Whitstone!"

I awake.

Spoiler for Notes:

I am not really sure what prompted this dream, if anything. But somehow it struck me more than a dream usually does.

Non-Lucid Dream, Monday, December 5, 2016:
Truly Public Restroom, Elderly Driver from Hell, Near-Lucid False Awakening

I started off walking into a unisex bathroom, at the moment occupied by a man and two women. The walls on the stalls had big sections cut out of them, some attached on hinges like crude shutters. I used the toilet like normal, despite the exposure. Nobody seemed to care. Leaving there, (minor blackout/time skip?) I ended up in the back seat of a car with some of my grandparents in it. It was being driven by another elderly man I don't know. As soon as we left the parking lot and entered onto the highway, I knew this wouldn't go well. I wasn't wrong. Constant missed turns and last minute over corrections, and I can't leave out the massive, multi-lane sized semi-trucks barreling towards us periodically. This whole time, the old man at the wheel is in a constant state of nearly falling asleep. At the final missed turn, we actually did a burn out u-turn on the highway. We ended up running downhill at ever increasing speed towards this long steel bridge, like a railroad bridge (? dream thought) where there was a gap between the beams your tires rode along. About half way across the bridge, I see a football helmet sitting on the left-hand beam. I point it out, but the driver waves me off saying it won't be a big deal. We hit it. Immediately the car lurches sideways and skids along the remaining length of the bridge at a precarious angle. Then I woke up.

But WAIT! In the darkness, I decide to try and induce a lucid. Various made up tunes play in my mind, and gradually I notice my body is in a strange position, resting on my knees and forehead. I begin to move, and open my eyes. I am sitting on the top bunk in a room not unlike my childhood bedroom. I get distracted by the fact that my pants need changing from an unremembered wet dream, keeping me from turning this into a lucid, though the idea seems to linger at the back of my mind. I climb down and look for a change of clothes. In the corner of the room, I notice a kid sitting there. I ignore him and proceed to change my pants without really caring that I'm not alone. I think another, younger kid shows up about now? They remind me of my uncle's sons (cousins, I guess, new marriage), who I'd stayed with for Thanksgiving.

Then I woke up for real and changed my real pants. The time then was about 5 AM.