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30th July 2020

Dream: (DFLN thread) ^{(self-memo: be sure to re-read Sageous comment and my own reply)}

Was at some therapist's office. Looked to be a typical rented office space. I went in and saw a doctor "Hodstatdr Lester" ^{(note, this is my original spelling in the original entry)}, he insisted gently that I call him Lester.

He was a well-built man, with a mostly round head (bald?) and with a deep voice. He wore glasses.

We sat opposite each other on identical chairs. Lightly stained pine frames with blue textile cushions (deep blue?).

He began by asking me what he could help me with and by saying remarking something about whether or not it would be worth our time, mutually.

I talked for a little bit, I don't have a recall of the specifics but then I said I had two unresolved phobias. He seemed to nod compliantly and asked me to go on. I remember thinking about what I wanted to say, and then saying it, an unusual process for me during conversation.

"Well, one of my phobias is what's on your shirt." I said
"Pockets?" He said with a look of surprise.
"No" I replied, making a motion with my index running along my sternum.
"Ah, you mean buttons" He replied.

I interrupted with "Yes" because I had(have) an aversion to even saying the word at times.

"Well, you have a [unintelligible prefix]-phobia" He then stated.

I also had in mind that I wanted to talk about another unresolved phobia. But oddly enough I couldn't remember what it was (and still can't).

In any case, I said that this phobia name sounded familiar, and just as we were about to start discussing it, I woke up.

Original notes:

- While I felt like I could trust him, hesitantly, this feeling was mostly further compromised by the fact that the chairs were oriented in a way that made him be slightly my left and I to his right. This could have been corrected easily when I sat down, by simply turning the chair in a different angle.
- In addition, the room was large. 6x6 mtrs or so at a guess. But apart from our chairs it was a completely empty office. The floor was carpeted?
- Finally, there were two windows. One behind and left of the therapist (from my pov) and another one out of sight in the far right corner of the room. It was day time and so the two windows were the only light sources.

Scraps:

Mentalist dream, something about young children getting their fingers stamped with hot seals? This was part of some imagined thoughts at some point.

Something about being in my old home's kitchen, the light was on. Absence of light and darkness from outside. Odd. Mom and T were in the kitchen? Something about cooking, and then a bat flew in and mom notified us, after I'd already spotted it. It was light brown in colour, caramel coloured even.

One of the very first dreams? Was in a tank in some place near a warehouse and I was shooting civilians with tank shells, because they were being uncooperative somehow. I remember troops on foot scattering from a rear formation to take control of the civilians and the immediate area.

Recorded the majority of these dreams early on in a vague form on my phone on waking up. Had to go somewhere in the car; while I was waiting in the car for an hour, typed everything out in more detail, which I'm now putting on the DJ here.

---

First Dream (Some detail missing):

Fairly long dream. Can’t remember the start now but I would recurringly go for a swim with H but also alone. When I started, I felt weak and slow. I can’t remember the water's temperature.

We were on some sort of cruise ship but it was mostly empty, and I don’t think it was ever moving. I started to become strong at swimming, when I was back on the decks I can remember feeling like I my chest was sort of almost puffing out from all the swimming workout.

At some point I was walking down some wooden decking stairs and I could see my parents lounging on some patio type chairs on a higher level. I could hear dad make some sort of mock bird call. I remember then seeing some birds. Seagulls? Dad laughed. H asked from some place below, “is that your dad?” I said yes and then remember continuing down the stairs and losing sight of them.

It was daytime for most of this dream but I made note of the fact that it was sort of cloudy and grey. I remember a horizon of water. It may have been windy but I don’t remember the sound of it.

I remember a few times I’d take my boots off, but at no point do I remember what I was wearing.

When I went swimming, after a short while I’d usually arrive at this sea floor base of some kind. This place did have a lot of people. I remember lockers, the inside of this place almost felt like some swimming pool changing rooms but with a more modern and futuristic feel to it, a bit more like the base from Ocean Girl or the sea city from Bioshock.

Before this dream or through the middle of it, I was stuck in some sort of void like limbo with H for a time. It was like being in an out of control perpetual fall, and there was a strange light and distant but dark cosmic background. This void was filled with ancient structures and artefacts from unknown civilisations, a lot of the stuff looking like it was from some sort of classic period.

I remember interacting with some walls and pillars from a distance, with some kind of telekinetic ability, and cutting them up into smaller chunks. As I did their lighting would change, usually to some dramatic purples and yellows.

At some nearer the “end” of the cruise ship segments I went into this too, to have a wee, but there were no toilets. In the dream my mind was telling me that there were some type of urinals but there was nothing on walls or anything like toilets. Instead there were some tables. I walked past a clear plastic box filled with what looked like cheap and brightly coloured electronic components.

At the tables were some big circuit boards with several components already soldered on, including some transformers. For whatever reason I had to have a wee on these boards, but I remember someone telling me I could only wee on the electrolytic capacitors... I remember doing it, but on a big black electrolytic cap, and then some guy appeared, who apparently owned all this stuff and told me off just for weeing on the big one. He was annoyed but not angry or shouting.

Then I remember going out of that room after a short dialogue. I went some stone stairs, in a wide spiral. It reminded me of castles and churches. There were a few murderhole windows where daylight shun from. This was a different place, it was puzzle like. As I reached some kind of landing I immediately realised that the structure was like in some games like Legend of Zelda and some modern puzzles where the paths loop back into themselves, but I could get around the issue of looping paths by taking them whilst walking backwards.

I remember a crawl space path where the same would happen and there were statues and displays scattered about like some museum. There was a warm artificial mood light and everything had a sort of modern feel to it in the areas with displays.

Second Dream (Fragment):

A different dream. I was born out of a big egg, looked mostly like a birds egg but was covered in a polka dot pattern on the outside. A sort of magenta colour to the dots.

There was some old man in this dream and I remember telling him we all had stomachs made from tin and gold. When I told him there was also sulfuric acid in there, he was incredulous.

Third Dream? (Fragment) NSFW:

A still image, as if on a computer, no doubt from a transition phase into wakefulness,

Spoiler for NSFW:

of a giant phallus in space “absorbing” planets along its skin.

One of the stranger things I might draw from time to time. But unusual for this type of thing to appear whilst still sort of in the dreaming context.

---

Notes:

⁃ Almost immediately after waking up I realised I probably had the swimming and diving dream because I spent so much of last night reading stuff on Dreamviews. It made me feel like the water was representative of dreaming in itself.
⁃ When I was reading stuff last night I had some thoughts about symbology, mostly because of the topics but I think also because of something I’d said/posted. I feel this is probably why the dream ended up being so metaphorical.
⁃ I ended up taking the whole swimming and diving experience, which in the dream made me stronger, as a sign that I may be making some progress again with dreaming. There was just a sort of clear association in my head when I woke up that all of this was a metaphor for how I was doing lately.
⁃ The void filled with artefacts etc. also felt relevant in that context because it seemed like a collection of lost and unknown culture.
⁃ This void was very similar to the Chthonic voids found in Grim Dawn, probably because I was also playing that a bit last night.

In the dream, I seem to have traveled to some sort of large family gathering at an unfamiliar location. It is the last day before we go our separate ways, and so I speak with my aunt and uncle, arranging a time to meet up tomorrow morning, since we’ll be returning together. It’s better to get the planning out of the way now rather than try to do it at the party tonight, I explain.

Later on, I’ve gone somewhere nearby but higher up, by a park on a hill. In the middle of a well-kept green area is a large statue of the Brothers Grimm. There is another green hill off to one side with a row of tiny houses around the base, and stuck into the hillside is a large stone plaque, round with a wavy outline. Across the top, a few names are engraved, and below, a body of text in a smaller size.

There’s a police officer nearby, and I get into a conversation with him. The part of it I can still recall went like this:

“You could live in that house.”

It is the house nearest to us that he’s talking about, a sort of cabin-like structure. The door is wide open, so I can see that it is vacant. I can also see that it is ridiculously tiny, which would probably explain why. I tell him I can’t live possibly there: there isn’t even enough room to lie down inside.

“You could sleep in the park,” he says, undeterred. “And keep food in the house.”

This is a bit odd coming from someone whose job, as I understand it, involves keeping people from sleeping in parks. I must have said something expressing my doubt as to whether that was allowed because he then—in the manner of someone who’s lived in a town all his life and apparently knows everything significant that’s happened there since the dawn of civilization—asks me if I’ve heard of a certain person—a Greek name, but I can’t recall it any longer. I thought I did—a young man, a Greek general from the early 20th century—but he replied that it was actually someone else who was associated with him somehow.

This man, explained the officer, had spent a night sleeping on the statue itself. I look over and see that Wilhelm, on the right, is holding a scroll that looks like it would make a natural perch for the venturesome and bored. And not only did this man not get in trouble for it—the policeman is very emphatic about this—they put his name on the plaque along with the other famous people who had been there to visit the site. The point being, I guess, that nobody would hold it against me, either.

And after that, I was down in the area with my family again until I woke up around four in the morning.

(13.1.18)

Cell Fragment of Sad Place (nl)

I'm viewing an odd-shaped hairless humanoid figure sitting in a cell. It is sad. A man is with it and he's concerned about her wellbeing. Few thoughts in my head: is that me? why is it sad? what happened to cause this? was she locked up? am I being emotionally distant or is this really someone who is not me?

Some moments later after intense and focused staring I conclude that the person is not me, that it was locked up and now it's not, and that likely the person only feels trapped and the cell is a creation of its mind to demonstrate internal emotions. There is some sadness from me for it; imagine being free but not feeling free, that must suck. That is worth feeling sad about.

Neither seems to notice me and I don't want to interrupt their exchange so I slip out, seemingly unnoticed.

Bed Play (ld)

I'm in some room that I don't recognize. Rectangular, nothing noteworthy. I'm trying to make it a comfortable environment to sleep, but there's no curtains, too large an entry point, it's just ... not conducive to my sleeping preferences. A bed appears I lay on it to sleep. A man appears from nowhere and belly flops on me. He laughs. He's definitely not a threat, but his goofiness is almost contagious and I need to stop this emotion before it gets out of hand. After shoving him off, he flops on me; more laughter....and the comforter is blocking my annoyed facial expression and I don't say anything because I don't talk a lot. I send him thought-daggers instead because somehow that makes more sense to me. He's still trying to wrestle so I manifest a secondary bed and head in that direction, but the dream shifts instead.

Woman (DawnEye?) (ld)

I'm with a woman I've never seen before, but she's adorable. We're at the mall, I think, and she wants to shop for shoes. I'm not doing anything in dreaming and I guess the bed wrestling wasn't worth managing, so--shoe shopping it is. I try on some shoes while she and I chat about stupid stuff. It's not really stupid stuff, it's important to her to communicate and talk and this sort of talk is easy. She reminds me of a younger sister; a simple and enjoyable relationship where the only pressure is to hang out and laugh.

I put a pair of platform shoes on--they're surprisingly comfortable. She approves but isn't excited. I don't even think she's shopping for shoes as she's just sitting beside me watching me put on pairs, haha. This is HER dream, she wants to dream of being in a shoe store but has no interest in trying shoes on. How weird is that? I'm not shopping for shoes either, but if we're going to be in a shoe store, I can't escape putting shoes on my feet. I take off the platform pair then reach for a pair she's sitting in front of. A colorful butterfly sequin pair. They're quite beautiful, but not as shoes. I point to them as I raise my eyebrows at her, clearly asking for her opinion on the pair. She giggles and I can tell she's trying to be polite by not saying they're hideous. Her concealment is hilarious and eventually, she leaves.

There's a small fragment with her where I think we're also looking at keyrings but I can't remember what we were saying about them. Basically, I think she was moving the conversation into an interesting direction as she was holding a couple of keyrings. I don't remember if the dilemma was about the keyrings themselves or if they reminded her of something. We chatted a bit about it though. She was pleasant; an easy person to talk with.

I'm talking to the thing which is possessing/has become a part of a friend of mine. It's attempting to be threatening, and I'm attempting to stall. We're talking about why it would bother possessing someone at all.

Although I don't say this out loud, I'm thinking that for me the appeal is what I think of as different flavors, the experience of different personalities/perspectives, when from the outside they pretty much all seem alike. And I'm also thinking that travel is the more obvious reason, the one that it would expect me to guess without having any personal experience with possession; and I think that sure, visiting Hawaii and seeing some pretty scenery is always appealing, but then there's the way humans will get up close to an active volcano, which is the really interesting part - meaning their thought process, not the volcano or even the danger itself.

But the thing possessing my friend says that what it likes is the conversation; that we've been talking now for two minutes without pause, and it's enjoying the novelty. I don't get the appeal, but whatever works for you.

May 6, 2016: I lace up a pair of foul weather hiking boots. I need to use the bathroom inside the movie theater. It is disgusting and run down to the point where I don't even want to touch the entrance door. I use my booted left foot to push open the door and then approach a bare concrete cinder block wall where there is a trough. I start to pee against the wall and my urine runs down the wall into the trough.

A man enters the bathroom, and is standing to my left while I pee. He has a thin catalog open to a page which has an illustration of a creepy looking doll which resembles a Tim Burton characterization of a popular or famous actress. The female doll is Frankenstein-like with surgical sutures on its face and is dressed like a pilgrim in black and white. The man seems concerned that the likeness of the doll's face to a famous actress will prompt a lawsuit. I advised him to simply make a small change to the appearance of the doll and that if he did so I didn't think he would get sued since the doll was not likely to have much sale volume potential. I finished peeing and we exit the bathroom.

We are now outside the bathroom in the lobby area of the movie theater and the conversation switches to kites. I start pontificating on the Revolution kite, and give him the pros and cons of purchasing a less expensive model of Revolution kite first as a “beater" while he learns to fly. Afterwards, he can purchase a more expensive model. I tell him that if he flies the kite in his yard at a party, his guests will be very impressed. Apparently, I had previously promised to upload information on my Revolution kite online for his benefit, but hadn't done so as of this conversation. I find a black straw on the floor of the movie theater. It is very stiff and covered in part by a cellophane wrapper. I removed the remnant of the wrapper and show it to the man as an example of the carbon fiber frame inside the Revolution kite. I wake.

Tonight I'm in a hotel and had gone to bed at 12:30am, early for me, after a big meal with lots of wine. I slept for a few hours and it was probably around 3–4am (an estimation, I didn't check) that I started water-cycling. I've found it the best way to avoid a hangover: I wake up at intervals to drink as much water as I can comfortably consume, which inevitably means also having to use the bathroom frequently once the rehydration sets in.

I had already woken a few times in the night and this waking seemed no different at first, because dream logic prevented me from realizing how odd it was that I was walking down a long hall to use the bathroom rather than just using the one in the room. Yet from the start, something made me wonder if I was dreaming. I tried jumping and levitating but it was inconclusive. It didn't occur to me to try other checks. I went in the bathroom and noticed it looked just like one I had just been dreaming about before I woke up, which also seemed suspicious, but I still felt very embodied and awake. I even noticed how clean and inviting this bathroom felt, in contrast to the unpleasant aspect they often present in dreams. I felt awake enough and had to pee urgently enough that I was tempted to just go ahead and use the facilities, reasoning that if I was actually dreaming then with careful intention I should be able limit this activity to the dream state and not accidentally release my bladder in waking life. But uncertainty made me hesitate—I couldn't afford to be wrong about this! Something still made me sense that I was dreaming, even if I couldn't seem to prove it.

I noticed a woman sitting nearby, which did not strike me as odd, but opportune. I approached her and asked, "Am I dreaming?"

"Yes." I was struck by the simple decisiveness of her answer. It was also uncharacteristically straightforward, given the usual evasiveness of my DCs.

"Thanks for being honest. Usually when I ask people in dreams—" (I used this phrase instead of "DC" because I was afraid she might it insulting to be reduced to an acronym) "—they say 'no'. Why do they do that?"

She shrugged slightly. "They're probably just nervous."

I wondered what they might have to be nervous about, but wanted to understand what made her different. "Then why were you so honest?"

"I represent your higher functions." I'm pretty sure this is what she said, or very nearly. It struck me as an oddly technical response.

This DC really intrigued me. She seemed so smart and self-aware, in contrast to the typical dullness and blandness of those I try to interact with. I looked at her closely. She was a slim young woman who appeared to be in her twenties, pretty, with glossy shoulder-length black hair and an Asian cast to her features. Her demeanor was calm, precise, and assured. I wanted a name to remember her by, so I asked: "What's your name?"

She promptly uttered a string of numbers, something like "2166309."

Perplexed by this response, I pressed, "I mean in letters." If she couldn't answer, I decided that I would name her "Murasaki." I had just been reading about the names of Japanese colors so the word was fresh on my mind; I knew it meant purple, and the woman was wearing a bright purple shirt and looked like she might be Japanese. I also recalled that "Murasaki" was a name of ancient pedigree, being the heroine of The Tale of Genji as well as the pseudonym of its courtly author. But my deliberations were unnecessary, it turned out.

"Meonarra," she said. At least that's what it sounded like.

I pressed for clarification: "Can you spell that?"

She might have started with an "M," but what followed was not a series of normal alphabetical letters. She specified particular accent marks and chemical symbols that I wasn't even familiar with. Her explanation of the spelling sounded far longer than the actual name, and at least half of it seemed to be special characters. Even listening closely, I couldn't follow it at all. I wished I had a way to record it other than my own weak memory. I reflected how people in many pre-modern cultures had developed their memories to an extraordinary degree, but we, who can almost always rely on other means of recording information, have very little ability in that regard. I wished I had a notepad to write down what she was saying, but there would be no point: I couldn't keep it with me when I woke up. So instead I just asked her to repeat herself: "Can you say that again?"

She obliged, but it sounded completely different this time, and I could swear the new spelling ended with a "D." That wasn't anything like the name I thought I'd heard. I figured if I couldn't spell it, I should at least make sure I had the pronunciation right. "Meonarra?" I asked, pronouncing the first syllables as "mee-oh." She corrected me; the first vowel was more like the "a" in "after," so it sounded like "mae-oh."

I realized that I was falling into a rut by obsessing over the name, and the dream was not going to last much longer. "Can I see you again?" I asked Meonarra. "I'd like to have a conversation sometime."

She shrank back with a stricken look, as if I'd suggested something completely inappropriate. "No! That's _____'s territory." I didn't quite catch the name, but I think it was two syllables, might have started with an "I," and sounded male. Similar to "Isaac"? But it wasn't exactly that; I don't think it was a waking-world name.

I wasn't sure what was wrong with my request, but I tried to reassure her. "I just mean to chat, like we're doing now. I'd like to see you." I realized that I was drawn to her. I couldn't tell if it was the stirrings of a romantic attraction or if it was just that I found her so interesting. But the thought awakened a sensuous impulse and I put my arms around her. I recognized that it was the dream state itself that made it so easy to slip toward this sensation, and I asked her why dreams had this quality. I can't remember how I worded the question, and can't remember her reply, if she had time to make one before I woke up.

Writing this up it perhaps sounds more bland than it felt at the time. It was one of those dreams that felt really significant, even if nothing much happened. I regret that I got so pre-occupied with her name. Although my waking mind really likes to have names for things, a tendency that bleeds over pedantically into lucidity, I'm not sure if naming things is especially useful or meaningful within dream itself. It is becoming clear, at least, that the kinds of names things have in dream are not always as clear and straightforward as our ordinary linguistic appellations of waking life. Instead they appear to operate much like written text in dreams, characterized by the shifting instability of dream logic. So it might have been better if I could have thought of more substantial questions to ask her, instead of wasting the whole dream just trying to pin down her name. I do like having something to remember her by, but what else might she have told me if I had been able to come up with a more introspective line of questioning?

It is now 6:43am (it was a few minutes before 5:12 when I started so I've spent over 90 minutes writing!) and the sky outside has blossomed into an unbelievably beautiful pink sunrise. I'm going back to bed.

Ritual: Went to bed 1am, woke at 2, too early to do anything, woke again at 5:40 with fresh NLD, so forced myself to get up and do a proper WBTB. Returned to bed at 6:15, did hybrid of SSILD and counting, but kept getting disturbed by environmental factors. Hard to sleep, eventually dozed off without awareness, finally woke at 7:20 and declared it a failed attempt. I could still squeeze in another hour of sleep though so I figured I'd just try FILD as a last resort.

After this things get confusing. My best guess is that I did FILD, then fell asleep and into a NLD, then... I woke up, or thought I did (might have been an FA), and did FILD again (possibly in the dream state). Then I noticed that my arm was lying free on the bed rather than tucked under my pillow as usual, so I thought, "Fine, I'll do the stupid nose pinch RC," and what do you know, I could breathe! So I knew I was dreaming, but I was very perplexed. I had just been doing FILD and hadn't observed any kind of transition or even a momentary lapse of awareness in which the transition could have occurred. How could I have fallen asleep and not realized it? In retrospect, I really do think that this started as an FA that I mistook for a real waking, so I did FILD without realizing that I was already dreaming. Hey, whatever works.

So I sat up, and immediately became more perplexed. I was in a bed, but it was not the one I had gone to sleep in, and the bedroom also bore no resemblance to mine in RL. I got up and started looking around, but then I realized that I recognized the place after all: hadn't I been having a non-lucid dream here, just before I woke up and tried that FILD attempt? (This also argues for the FILD-during-FA hypothesis, and it wouldn't be the first time I've had a "WILD" that was initiated from within an ongoing dream—a DIWILD?)

This is hard to confirm because I always have a hard time putting dream events in their proper sequence, but there were events I remembered taking place in this building that don't seem lucid and don't fit into my memory of the lucid episode, so I think that must be what happened. That is, all the previous events took place downstairs, but the entire lucid sequence took place upstairs in what I took to be the same house.

NLD: Earlier when I was downstairs, there had been some complicated narrative I don't recall, but it resulted in me opening the front door several times to let cats into the house. At one point there was a really big one, an orange tabby, both large-bodied and very plump. When I saw him sitting on the doorstep I thought he was the biggest cat I'd ever seen, and I invited him in and closed the door. But there had been two or three other orange tabbies of normal size sitting with him, so I relented and opened the door again to let them in too. "Okay, fine, we'll just let them all in." I knew we didn't have room for them all, but figured it wouldn't be fair to turn them away after I'd already let in others. We could sort it out later.

After this I stood in the entry and watched the extra-big cat ambling away down the hall. Now it was even larger than it had seemed at first, with a lean, bony frame that was not at all cat-like. In fact, I thought I recognized what it was, and said to someone standing nearby, "That cat looks an awful lot like a moose. You know, I think it might actually be just a moose with no horns." Only it was still orange, which seemed a very odd color for a moose.

DIWILD: So apparently this all happened earlier, before the FILD attempt, and afterwards I was convinced I was still in the same house. In the wall facing the end of the bed was a doorway to another room, and when I went inside, I encountered someone that I immediately recognized as the moose-cat from earlier, although now he was a human-looking man with orange hair. I was still curious, so I asked him, "Are you a cat or a moose?"

"I have three types of glands," he answered, and I had the impression he was suggesting that he was both, and something more besides, a protean type of creature.

The two of us sat down on the couch, and for a moment my dream libido took over, and I started making out with him. But as things got more intense I recognized that this was a distraction and would accomplish nothing useful. Didn't I have tasks to do? I remembered that last night I had been on DV looking over the monthly tasks for August, and there had been one that I particularly wanted to try out. This seemed like the perfect opportunity. So I disentangled myself from moose-cat-man's embrace and said firmly, "Tell me a word in a foreign language."

It was hard to make out what he said at first. It sounded like "Arab mormon."

"What?" I wasn't sure if I had heard him correctly.

This time he distinctly just said, "Mormon."

It didn't sound like a word in a foreign language, but whatever. Run with it. "Alright, now tell me what it means."

"A married man."

I wasn't very satisfied with this result and wanted to try again. Another DC was in this room, sitting on another small couch further along the same wall, so I went and sat down next to him. This time I made sure my instructions were more explicit from the start: "I want you to tell me a word in a foreign language, and then tell me what it means."

"Sprenn," he said promptly.

"Spread?" I repeated what I had thought I heard at first.

"Sprenn," he clarified, and helpfully spelled it for me. "S-P-R-E-N-N."

"Okay, what does it mean?"

At this he smiled coyly, as if embarrassed. "I'll... tell you later."

I had the impression it must be a word for something naughty, but I needed to find out. "Please?" I wheedled. He shook his head.

I decided to be more forceful. "Come on, you have to tell me!" I tried to think of how to back this up, and added, "It's my homework assignment."

He tried to explain in a roundabout way: "It has to do with the city of Myrkbalik, and the laws of Garibaldi."

The two names he mentioned sounded complicated, so I wanted to make sure I had heard them correctly. "What was the name of the city? Mrkbalik?" He nodded. "And the second name? Garibaldi? Garifaldo?" This reminded me of a name I had heard in waking life, so I tried to remember, then joked with him, "The laws of Janeane Garofolo?"

He laughed, though it wasn't clear whether or not he recognized the pop culture reference, and repeated the name for me. It still sounded closer to "Garibaldi" than anything, though I had so much to remember at this point that I didn't dare ask him to try to spell it. Already in the back of my mind I was cycling through data points "mormon... married man... sprenn... mrkbalik..." trying to make sure I would be able to preserve them through waking.

Mrkbalik... that's how it sounded, and I didn't ask him to confirm the spelling of that one either. But he had said it was a city name, and to my ears it sounded Russian or Eastern European. I had a sudden insight about this DC, and asked him, "You majored in Slavic studies, didn't you?" He confirmed this.

I felt as though this conversation was winding down, so I got up and crossed the room. Against the opposite wall was a sort of shelving unit, framing square cubbyholes about the size you might put a pair of shoes in, six cubbies high and six wide. It was resting on some elevated base so that the fourth row of cubbies up was equal with my eye level. I looked in this row and saw that a couple of the cubbies were inhabited by small kittens. Could the kittens talk, I wonder? If so, I might even try the task again. But as I was wondering this, the little grey tabby kitten in the cubby I was peering into addressed me first. It had a tiny creaky high-pitched voice, like you might expect of a kitten, and said something about how its eyes were damaged or hurting. I was troubled to hear this and wondered how I might help. Since this was a dream, I figured the most effective way to help the kitten would be to correct its expectations. I smiled and said encouragingly, "No, your eyes are perfectly fine!" We had a few more exchanges like this, where the kitten would say something upsetting and I tried to reassure it. I don't remember anything afterwards so around this time I guess I woke up, although I don't have a distinct sense of the moment when it happened.

[HR][/HR]
[B]Sunday, August 18th 2013: "Class"[/B]

I'm sitting in a classroom with many people, and it has something to do with cooking. The teacher is a younger female with shorter dark hair. We are sitting on the floor and have formed a circle. The spoken language is english. Next to me to the right is a friend I haven't seen in many many years. He lives in a different country. Now everyone gets an assignment to introduce themselves to the class and the teacher. My friend is very nervous. After I introduce myself, I look to my right, and my friend is gone. I get the feeling that he will do something bad.

[B]Sunday, August 18th 2013: "Finances"[/B]

It is nighttime. I am in my yard sitting with a collague of mine, and he asks me if I can lend him some money. It seems that he wants only 50 euros, but I give him 100, and he looks very happy. A few minutes later I am talking to his son about something.

[COLOR="#B22222"][U]Note:[/U] I recalled 5 dreams, but only wrote down 2.[/COLOR]

I dreamed that I was talking to my boss Bill (I have more that one man I consider my boss at my work - this one likes to say "Remember, it's all bullshit."

What were we talking about in my dream? I remembered that clearly a moment ago, but then I moved to write it down. Was it dream interpretation? Was it the interpretation of the situation at my work? Anyway, I remember a sense of agreement. Which is as it is I waking life: Bill and I I think are on the same page mostly at least about assessment of situation there I think.

[This is a catch-up post. This dream took place on the night of November 20-21, 2012. The title of this dream is in Japanese, and is read "Sora ni Tondeiru Yumebito-Tai." It literally means "Flying in the Sky Dream Person Team (or Corps)." The dream felt a lot like being in an episode of an anime series, so I gave it a title that would be suitable for an anime series.]

Non-lucid, Lucid, [Commentary made while awake]

I'm outside somewhere, lying in the warm sun. The sun's rays are making me too hot in my flannel pajamas. I'm wearing dark-colored plaid pajama bottoms [the same ones I'm wearing in real life], and a white flannel pajama top with red roses on it [the same pattern as on a bedspread my mom has at her house].

I'm in a large department store, filled with racks of cold-weather accessories and other clothes. I'm wandering through the racks by hopping up off the floor, hovering above it for a few seconds as I float forward, and then sinking back down. After several repetitions of this, I think, Hmm, this is longer than I should be able to float like this. Oh - that's because I'm dreaming.

I fly out of the room with the clothes and winter accessories and into a larger room. It's still part of the same store, but it has a higher ceiling and has a skylight. I stop to ground myself in the dream by landing on the ground and touching things with my hands, including some packages of batteries that are hanging up on a rack. It works.

I join up with a a group of kid DCs that includes Merida from Brave and a curly-haired blond boy. We all set off from the department store together to battle some evil force. We run out of the store and come to a hilltop that overlooks an ocean bay. Some of us, including Merida and myself, jump off the top of the hill and start flying over the bay. I shout “Woohoo!” as I jump off. I notice that some of the others in the group are simply running down the hill, rather than flying. [For the first time, it seems perfectly natural to me that some DCs can fly, too, and I don't feel any need to hide the fact that I can fly, as I usually do when I'm around DCs.]

All of us, those who ran and those who flew, reassemble at our destination, which is a small house on the cliff overlooking the ocean. We realize we're being pursued by some kind of monster that will kill us and eat us. There is a newspaper article about the monster in the house. The kids all seem to be sure that the monsters have found us, that they're coming, and that we're all doomed. For a second, I'm genuinely afraid, but then I remember: Oh, yeah, this is a dream. I know what this most likely means. I roll my eyes and announce to the group: “They aren't really monsters, they're just tasks that I haven't done and that I feel bad about.” [Or words to that effect.] I think about it for a moment and come up with what that task must be - paying a bill [among other things that I don't remember now]. Everyone in the group seems to relax, and no monsters ever actually appear at the house.

One of the DCs in the group says to another, “See about adopting her [meaning me] into the practice.” They are both young men, about 17-19 years old. The second one looks at me and says, “You're [Emiko].... Roboto.” [He used my real-life first name.] I reply, “Yes, that's a name I've used here before. I don't really like it, though.” [Huh? That's definitely not my real-life last name, and I certainly don't remember using it in a dream before. It was a big part of my childhood, though.] I say something about how grateful I am to have been accepted into this group of people, even with my mismatched pajamas. I'm still wearing the same dark pajama pants and light pajama top from the very beginning of the dream, while most of the other people in the group are wearing neat, matching, school-uniform-like outfits. [This isn't surprising; I was an anime fan for a long time, and a lot of the characters in the shows I liked were high school students who wore school uniforms.]

The group of DCs and I all feel a general sense that that is the end of this adventure, but that there will be more in the future. We start flying off over the landscape, looking back at the buildings where we've just been: the big store with the skylight, and a motel [?]. There is an upbeat, exciting rock song playing in the background. It feels exactly like I'm experiencing the end credits of an anime show.

I'm now traveling along in some kind of vehicle with the two young men, watching the scenery pass by from a tree-lined road that runs along the crest of a ridge opposite those buildings. I say to them, “Also, your ending theme song kicks ass.” [I think the context for this was that they thanked me for sticking with them so long at the end of the adventure, and I replied that of course, I wanted to prolong the experience as long as possible and have as much fun as I could. I don't remember the beginning of the conversation very well, though. The song I heard reminded me a little bit of this one, except it was at a faster tempo.]

I have a false awakening in the bed I'm actually in [I was sleeping on a futon because I had family in town that week], where I can see my bare legs, before waking up for real.

---------------------------
Side notes:
THIS DREAM WAS SO COOL!!!! I hadn't had a really long, fun, clear lucid like this in a while before I had this dream. I was so happy to have it!

I had a hard time getting up this morning. I can't remember this dream very well but it was a lucid.

Me and my supposed guide were sitting together. We were in a small stucco house, like one you would expect to see in Egypt or the middle east. We sat at a small wooden table by a window. Out the window, there were several more stucco buildings followed by a mountain range off in the distance.
Man, I would give anything to remember what she was telling me about. I can remember it being some really profound advice about my life. I woke up after we had talked for awhile.

Edited: Learn about my dream guide by visiting my "Ramblings" entry.

This is a medium length non-lucid dream, from which I remember little things but suffecient enough to log it.

So we left for an unknown/unremembered destination and had fun inside the school bus, don't remember what we did, but I remember kind of what was going on. We arrive at some building which was simillar to the campsite's buildings and we start to unpack our stuff. I find somewhere I don't remember a little chocolate and I keep it. For no obvious reason, as we unpacked and through the whole dream, my dad was in the corner of the street with his car watching.

So they have our stuff in a truck like vechicle on the back side, and we gather them. Suddenly, I remember I've forgotten some stuff on the truck and was afraid it left but it was there. Went to take my stuff but found other stuff that was supposingly mine but didn't remember bringing them, like food (croissants, chips etc) and I had forgotten to take clothes. Another kid near there had forgotten to take clothes and we joked about it.

So as I have kind of arranged my stuff and I'm eating a creme and praline croissant I just opened (it was delicious I can tell you, one of the things I do remember from dreams is taste), there comes a friend of mine but not from the campsite environment, from my school. He tells me "dude, your sister (which was with me in the excursion) just went for sleep! She sleeps so deep, I have never seen her so exhausted! (he has never seen her anyway)" And I tell him ok,whatever.

And somewhere at this point I wake up. The thing that pissed me off is that I woke up in SP and I wasn't aware of it, but stayed still, and thoughts were coming in my mind like "if you keep standing still, you will never be able to move again" and my body felt weird so I jumped up and when I understood what has just happened, I was like "fuck you organism, with your center of fear! You aint fooling me again bitch!"

Anyways, stuff like that happens, but I felt like a total noob at this point!

Lucid dream - Monday 10-09-2012 - "Seventeen" - Looking for my bag at a trainstation

it must've lasted for about 5-10 minutes, as I remember being awake and staring at the alarm clock, thinking to myself that I had to get up soon.

Sadly, I wasn't able to remember any of the important questions I wanted to ask DCs, but I did end up with an interesting reply.

Regular = black
Lucid = blue

I was with a few friends, and we were riding the train to get to a city (Århus).
We got off the train, walked up to a cafeteria and got something to eat - afterwards we went towards the exit.
On the way there, we went past some toilets, I figure they all had to go, since they were gone for the remainder of the dream.
I put down my bag, but after a while of waiting I decided to go on and wait near the exit.


After a few minutes of walking, I noticed that I had forgotten my bag - which seemingly surprised me into becoming lucid.
I figured I'd try my hand at summoning - I held out my hands and 'wished' for the bag to appear. A bag came flying into my hands, one very similar to
my old school-bag, but the colors were slightly off. I gave it another shot, but with the same results.
I went towards an open indoor-plaza, where I saw two men searching through luggage - figuring my bag might be amongst them, I started
picking bags up and slinging them around through telekinesis, until I spotted a DC. (Not sure why I didn't consider talking to the luggage-men)
She was an employee at what appeared to be an info-booth, I went up to her and figured I'd talk to her (It's been my goal for long to talk to a DC).

"Excuse me? Miss?" She looked at me.
Suddenly I got the idea of asking her a rather strange question, hoping for an interesting reply.
"What is the name of this dream?"
She replied "Seventeen" - which kind of caught me by surprised...
"Huh..? Seventeen? How can that be true, what kind of system(naming convention) is that?" I was quite confused at her answer. >_<
"Well, you didn't ask me anything personal" She replied in a sort of cheeky voice, hinting that she didn't HAVE to tell me the truth if it wasn't something personal.
I thought to myself, alright then!
"What color are your panties?" Not sure why that was the first 'personal question' that popped into mind, but yea...
She replied "Purple" - needless to say, I didn't actually check...

I turned around, where I spooted two girls, they looked kind of similar but for some reason one of them stood out to me as being really pretty.
I went towards them and as I approached, one of them turned around to leave (It didn't seem related to the fact that I was moving towards them).
I hurried over there and grabbed her arm, turned her around and said "Hi" - she seemed sort of startled, but she replied with a "Hi" nonetheless.
After I turned her around, I couldn't think of anything to say, so I ended up staring at her for a while, then let her go and said
"I'll just go grab my bag, if you're still around when I get back..." - I didn't have time to finish my sentence, as she was already leaving towards the exit.
I turned to the other girl (The really pretty one), who had just been watching curiously and said "I guess I had that coming..." and smiled.
She laughed.

I then went back to the luggagecart, checked through some of the bags and in the back I found one that looked exactly like mine.
I was a bit surprised, since it wasn't the bag I had 'thought of' when I tried summoning it - I looked at it for a while.
At that point, my alarmclock rang.

Funny 'coincidence' - though it might be overthinking it - the whole 'plaza scene' was kind of airport-like, and it just so happens that I was 17 the first time I went to an airport/took a flight somewhere.

Non-lucid, Lucid, [Commentary made while awake]

[Note: This was my first time taking melatonin. I took a 3mg pill before I went to bed. I'm on a trip, and my hosts offered it to me to help me get over jet lag. I also tried to concentrate on lucid dreaming more than I had been lately, as I was falling asleep. One or both of those things worked.]

I'm walking along the right-hand side of a broad, wide street, passing several marching bands as they march past in the opposite direction, one after another.

I'm in a classroom at a school that looks a lot like my old elementary school. There are a lot of other people my age there. A bunch of us start sitting down in a semicircle with our musical instruments; we're about to play an impromptu band concert. TM [a real-life friend and roommate who I only met within the last six months] is one of the people participating in the concert, but it's obvious that she doesn't know how to line up for one correctly. I yell at her: “[TM]! You have to sit so that you're spaced evenly! That's the done thing in music!”

The band starts playing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” The memory of how to play it comes flooding back into my mind from high school. [This is a real memory. It was one of the songs I had to memorize how to play for football games.] I'm surprised and pleased to find that I can still play it. As we're playing, though, the other members of the band lose interest, stop playing, and wander out of the room, leaving me playing my clarinet all alone.

When I get to a stopping place, I stop playing and leave the room in the company of a female teacher. We walk around the western edge of campus and come to the entrance of another classroom, where we stop and talk to a male teacher. Somewhere around this point, I realize that I'm dreaming. [I don't remember the specific moment it happened, but I know I've had at least one other dream featuring this version of my old elementary-school campus before.]

In the conversation with the male teacher, I ask him how old I am right now: “Am I eleven, the age I was when I started playing the clarinet; fourteen, the age I was when I graduated from junior high school; eighteen, the age I was when I graduated from high school; or twenty-six, the age I am right now in the real world?” I mention the real world specifically to see whether he'll pick up on the implication that the world we're in right now isn't real, and how he'll react.

“There is no real world involved in this discussion!” the male teacher exclaims.

I decide not to pursue that topic any further, because it's obvious that I'm not going to be able to convince him that this is a dream.