Lokoloi

- Blood Sanctinomica

This was a faction that I was apart of. It spans across the universe, and is denoted with a red crucifix with a red ring centered on the intersection. On Earth there was very few members nowadays. For some reason, Blood Sanctinomica has a terrible reputation across the universe, to the point where they were shunned from any place not their own. From what I saw though, it was a great place, filled with healers who were trying to make a difference. Blood Sanctinomica was moreso a faction of avatars for the same Goddess, Saint Hemos. I'm not sure what she did, but I think she was framed.

Anyway, I was on Earth because I was with a group of people who got hurt really bad. I myself was apparently a well respected and practiced healer. I was also a blonde white girl with blue eyes, blonde frizzy hair, and freckles for some reason. I don't think I had glasses but they feel lore accurate. Anyway, when I saw the symbols of blood Sanctinomica in the distance, (we used portals to travel to space and this chapter was inside of a space station) I couldn't believe my eyes. I had been shut off from the rest of Blood Sanctinomica while on Earth, so I had assumed the faction was dead. I legit cried from happiness. Being an avatar from this faction is not something you can choose; apparently it happens from birth. Anyway, I get there and it seems that Hemos is actually on her way back to this specific chapter herself. That's when we get a call from Nurse Practica.

- Nurse Practica

This is a sister faction of Blood Sanctinomica, and it's basically the same except its goddess is still in good graces with the rest of the universe. Helios is this faction’s goddess and is also Hemos’ sister. The symbol is a simple lemon yellow plus sign.

At some point, the dream changed and I was Amy Rose, but the Rosy the Rascal design. I was Running across this area called the Badlands, and it was a night city with 90s Jpop in the background. Definitely not informed by the “Can You 100% Sonic R with Only Amy” YouTube video I watched right before going to bed and the “How To Make A Jpop Song” video I watched earlier that day. I was having a blast though. Eventually I came across some kind of battle tower. The more I climbed, the more it seemed like Minecraft. At some point, the rewards for completing it started to be these beige filling cabinets that I called “End Drives”. I remember thinking to myself that they're called Drives because you Drive the container into a slot to connect it to a storage system. This was a eureka moment, like, Oh, that must be why they're called that. After that, I woke up.

**10:43 AM**

There was this performance artist in my dream. He had lost a relative—either a daughter or a granddaughter—and through his grief, he decided to do a bunch of really weird things. For some reason, he always had blood on his mouth. I don’t know why.

Some of the things he did included fighting or racing tigers—I'm not sure which. He also had a rap battle with a shark in a tank. He wasn’t in the tank; he was outside of it, rapping at the shark for some reason. Yeah, it was really weird.

His points were about perception and perspective.

During an interview, he said that after losing, I believe, his daughter, he didn’t want to live anymore, but he also didn’t want to die. So, he found a way to live without truly living. I assume he meant that he tried to live as primally or instinctually as possible, without conscious thought. Most of what he did was just bizarre.

In the dream, I was the one giving the interview. Even while I was him, all I felt was grief—just overwhelming grief. And it was strange because I was literally him, something that isn’t possible in the waking world. It was a step beyond simply putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. But even though I experienced everything as him, I still didn’t understand what he was doing in retrospect.

Funnily enough, that tied into his second argument: that **perspective is an illusion.** Even if you try to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, it’s a false sense of security because you start to feel like you understand their emotions and experiences—but you don’t. You never truly can, because you are still you. Even if you perfectly put yourself in their position, your own memories and experiences still shape the way you interpret it. I’m not sure why that was part of his argument, but he was definitely an example of **not understanding.**

I don’t really know what to make of him. He was definitely a fascinating performance artist. The kind of guy I feel like my professor would be interested in—or at the very least, want to interview. Oh, you know what? I could get her to write down some questions for him. That’s actually a really good reason to sharpen my lucid dreaming skill—so she could interview him.

Anyway, what do I take away from him? I do think there was something valuable in his ideas—assuming this wasn’t just nonsense. His thoughts on perception being an illusion have some merit. It’s just true. Everything we experience is a controlled hallucination created by the mind. So perception, as an illusion, is just one of many tools our brain uses to interpret the world. On that, he was right.

But his thoughts on first-person versus second-person perspective—his argument that they weren’t real—weren’t really fleshed out. I don’t know if he was saying that because perception is an illusion, it’s useless, but he seemed to have some kind of disdain for it.

What really stood out to me was how, after losing his daughter, he found a way to **live without living.** To **live without thinking.** As if thinking itself is integral to truly living—to experiencing life and getting the most out of it. He didn’t want that. He just followed his first impulse. It’s like **reverse impulse control.** Whatever came to mind, he did—even if it didn’t make sense. Especially if it didn’t make sense. Because then his brain would give up trying to understand, which seemed like his goal. He wanted to live as absentmindedly as possible.

I remember him specifically saying in the interview that living for **just 38 minutes**—however long the interview lasted—was agonizing for him. Which makes sense. Every second he was conscious, he had to grapple with what he lost.

But I don’t want to live like that.

Still, the idea of thought being an integral part of **living** is really interesting to me.

I had lost my body to a ghost, or a spirit, or something like that, and I had to get it back. This happened at the beginning of the dream. I remember it being really weird because my body was moving—just doing normal bodily things—but I wasn’t in control.

It was the first time I ever really felt my body be completely separate from my consciousness, which was really strange. It was different from being in a dream where I have my consciousness in the third-person perspective and I’m just watching whatever character I’m playing move around. This was different—I *was* in the body, but I couldn’t move or do anything. It was moving on its own.

It felt really weird, kind of tingly. I don’t know.

It was doing a bunch of puzzles because the spirit wanted to get something specific—I can’t remember what. But as it was in my body, it couldn’t see *me* anymore for some reason. I thought that was pretty strange.

While it was doing that, I possessed a dog that was in the puzzle room. I was kind of sabotaging its attempts to solve the puzzle, but it wasn’t enough. At the end of the day, I believe it got some sort of McGuffin that made it stronger, or something like that.

I’m not even sure what I did to make the spirit mad. I think I did something... maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe I was framed. Or maybe the spirit was just evil. I’m not sure.

The title of the dream is the first word that came to mind upon waking up; It's the name of the process the sprit used to possess me. It's funny because as I was recalling the dream, I could have sworn it was a real word and was confused when I looked it up and couldn't find it.