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Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A woman was possibly moving down a series of dark hallways or a cave. Somebody was following the woman, possibly the devil, some demon, or a big criminal like a mass murderer. The woman was glamorous, like Kim Novak in the Alfred Hitchcock movies.

The being had made a deal with the woman He wanted her help, and he would share his wealth and power with her. But the woman had declined. Now the being was following the woman to kill her. If she was going to know about his work but not work with him, she couldn't live.

The woman was now in some big, wood-floored room filled with yellowy-white light. It was like some room up on the deck of a nice ship. But it was completely empty. The woman stood facing the door on the stern side of the ship.

The being stood on the other side of the threshold, facing the woman. I couldn't see the being -- in fact, I may have been seeing from his viewpoint --, but the being now seemed to be as tall and wide as the doorway, and to have a very Devil-like appearance.

The woman faced the being and told him again that she couldn't work with him. But now there was a man in the room with the woman.

The being had posted up a $1,000 bill on one of the rafters of the ship's room. The being was using it as a test, to show the woman how unworthy the man was to work with him. The being, after posting the bill, mentioned a hidden $100 bill to the man. The man said that there was no incentive in working for the being for only $100. He walked away.

The being had disappeared. After the man had walked far enough along the deck, toward the bow, so that he could no longer see the woman, the woman went to the rafter on which the $1,000 bill had been posted.

I was now seeing from the woman's point of view. The woman took the bill. The being had made a deal with the woman that if the man was too stupid or lazy to look for the $1,000 bill, the woman could take it. The woman had also been tied to the man previously. But now that the man had walked away, the woman was free of him.

The woman still wasn't going to work with the being. But she did feel a bit of fondness for him. And she did feel flattered that someone as skilled as he was would treat her as nicely as he did.

11/26/2011
I'm in the nether (in Minecraft), trying to build a path somewhere. I'm on a different level than everyone else. There aren't any ghasts.

I'm riding the trains.

There's a little rich girl who has been kidnapped and is being held for ransom. She is living in squalor and looks like a dirty street child. She is rescued by secret agents.

The devil keeps trying to convince me to sell my soul. We have some interesting conversations, but I don't agree. I don't understand why the others took him up so readily.

It's Halloween. There is a circle of black robed eeevil cultists. I'm in the circle. They ask to be dominated by the devil. I get weirded out and leave.

A guy, possibly a teacher, is splitting us up into two groups. I'm not sure which group he meant me to join, so I just pick the one I want and talk about how I don't care what I was supposed to do. No one objects.

7/9/2011
I'm in a basement with washing machines. I'm talking to my dad about college. I waited until late, almost the last day, to register for, uh, registration. They were almost fully booked. I had to sign up for whatever's available. They had an opening. I took it.

I'm waiting outside a building in the dark, near the concrete steps. I'm talking with someone. I touched a dead baby duck (it looked like a stuffed one with a broken pullstring). I feel dirty. I need to wash my hands. I go inside without my stuff.

I look for the bathroom, but I get stopped by two security guards. They tell me there's an opening right now. I say ok, just let me go get my stuff (and wash my hands). They say no. I need to hurry before the guy who was supposed to have this appointment time gets here. So I go.

The building is a bit maze-ish. There's a stair going down in the middle of a room. There's a lady down there, typing at a desk.

I go to another room for registering. It's an interview. I sit across the desk from a guy who looks like that guy who says 'inconceivable' in The Princess Bride, except he has hair. Or maybe he looks like the mayor from Buffy the Vampire slayer (the one with the todo list saying: eat lunch, become invincible, PTA meeting). He asks me a lot of questions and writes stuff down on a form. Then he asks me what I plan to do for my essay. What essay?? I didn't know there's an essay. And I still need to wash my hands. He explains. There's an essay now, about a computer science topic. I tell him I plan to do it on open source software or linux. He doesn't hear me. I repeat myself. He still doesn't hear. He closes one, but not both, of the doors to the room, limiting the background noise. He hears me this time, and asks me why. I tell him these subjects excite me.

I write something on the form? I don't remember but later it's got my handwriting on it.

I suddenly realize the interview is being filmed. I am nervous. The guy is like 'of course it is.' I realize I am not fully dressed. I try to cover up, then decide to try to act nonchalant.

There are others in the room. The guy whose appointment I got because he was late is one of them, I think. There is a small bed with no mattress off to one side.

The guy is testing me on something now, only now he is a slender dark-skinned chick. Some porcelain animal cracker shaped things are dropped on the floor. They have the devil in them. You can't touch them, she says, or the devil will go into you. She attempts to clear them up, but it's risky work. The devil will go into objects you touch them with as well, apparently. Afterwards, I am supposed to have noticed something, but I didn't. I feel embarrassed. I missed the social (cultural) cues. She walks around tapping her face making disapproving noises. But the interview is done. I am supposed to take the form... where? The basement? Oh, I get it, to the lady at the desk at the bottom of the stairs.

I take the form to them. As I am leaving up the stairs, the desk lady (there is another lady there too) gets up. She is commenting on my writing, that my v's are pointy. There is some sort of (hand) writing test that takes a lot of time/pages? The way they are talking makes me uncomfortable, as if they were criticizing.

At the top of the stairs, the room I am in has two doors, at opposite ends of one wall. I walk to the left door. Both doors are open. Down the hall, I see a guy, but more urgently, I see a dog, painted red and yellow. It's a hellhound! I shut the door quickly, before the dog gets there. It's running. I am just in time. It growls and presses against the door, up on its hind legs. I growl back. Then it goes around and comes in the other door. "Fuck!" I grab a chair, to defend myself with. I'm panicking. The two ladies are nearby, but they won't be able to get to me in time to help. I wake up.

WILD attempt. No or little SP. Possible brief lucidity. Very fragmented.
In an elevator. Poisoned. The bottom of the elevator goes up independent of the top, hits the ceiling, and goes through.

On a bus. There are two kids. I only saw the one with the ugly face. Someone tells me I am the one who taught him to dream (lucidly?).

I'm in a sitting/kneeling position, falling asleep, worrying I'll hit something and wake. I feel momentary intense arousal. Something about getting a tattoo.

1. I'm in a dorm at college, playing the newest Grand Theft Auto game. Eventually I get bored and return to my own room, which is full of frat boys from my study abroad trip. They're rifling through my stuff, and understandably I ask them to leave. When they don't I start to yell, then threaten to call campus police. They do leave, but slowly, and I threaten the last one out with a baseball bat. After a bit of peace, one of them calls me, but I ignore the ring. Suddenly, I realize that I'm late to class.

2. I'm watching some sort of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure / Crossroads crossover movie. The main character, a guitar playing youngster, has a book of scales that he carries like a hymnal. He engages in a guitar duel with the Devil; as they play, the Devil's hands expand unrealistically to make jaw-dropping gaps, but the kid's hands do as well. After a bit of this, the kid breaks out a soulful ballad, saying he's "already used the Paganinni."

3. I'm in a swamp at my grad school, which is adorned with placards showing hunting spots for deer. It's a little before dusk, and I can't see any colors. As the sun sets, I realize that my feet are plagued with green tree frogs! I get out of there and call my parents, who say they've been in a concert the whole time.

4. I'm at the grad school rec center, watching some documentary about NCAA basketball. The players are described as "pistons in a well-oiled machine," not as people. Inspired by their fitness, I borrow a ball and start shooting (poorly). After a bit, a bunch of big guys gather around my court. It was reserved by them, and embarrassed I slink off to the elliptical room. My mom wanders into the room, saying she's been looking for me.

5. I'm at a concert with my brother and a random girl from college (A.H). The band is a rather classical one, with instruments of cello, recorder, and violin, but the players are dressed in odd anime-inspired costumes. After their set, one of the players jumps down and starts to mingle with us at a large table. He gives us snarky logic/math puzzles to solve, and I find I can't beat them. I'm embarrassed, but after the table has dissolved he comes up and apologizes to me. I say that I actually enjoyed the challenge.

07-07-11 Lucid: I don't quite remember how I turn lucid, but I am outside and it is misty and raining. I start out wanting to take off in flight, but I quickly realise that the detail isn't all that great so I decide to spend quite some time stabilising. I do this by engaging all the senses and verbally commanding it. There is a wall covered with a bronze layer on lop and I run my hand over it. I feel the water and cool sensation of touching metal in the rain, it is a somewhat grainy texture as well as if sand has been lying on top of it. I keep trying to see past the mist, which produce quite a solid boundary for my area of perception. It does expand a bit, but not a great deal.

After a while doing this I feel I am anchored well enough in the dream to start exploring. So I do just that. I start out with flying through the rain and I realise I am getting a bit cold. I try to focus on increasing the temperature of the winds hitting my body, which in turn makes me think about how cool it is I am able to simulate that (nothing I haven't done before, just keeps amazing me). After a while of flying around and looking at walls and their details I decide to go up the road to some friends' place. I know they have moved out of that place, but only recently.

When I arrive I can see through the windows that there are 3 people sitting in there my two friends and a dad to one of them. I walk through the wall and appear in their living room. I look around and see that the flat is empty bar some boxes and the three people sitting in there. I start taking off my shirt, I don't know why I do this as I have no intentions of attempting anything adult with any of them.

I start talking to them.

“Yeah so we are in a dream, did you know this?”

They respond with a period of speechlessness and attempts at smiles.

“So how does it make you feel that you are just a figment of my imagination?”
“Ronja I would think that you at least would enjoy this experience” (Yeah ok, my logic is probably starting to mess up a bit here)

They provide the same response, and I get a strong feeling of guilt. What if there is something to them that in a sense they are real. I don't have any rights to rob them of their existence. This guild and introspective focus is causing the dream to destabilise, I sense it and get periodic flashes of diminished clarity.

I shout out “Stabilize the dream!” and it gets back on track, but I can feel it is a wobbly ground I have entered (metaphorically). So I spontaneously start jumping around, I realise a bit later that this is actually a good way of stabilising the dream (can't actually remember if it is or not, but it works). I shout out “Increase vividness!” and to my delight I notice that the ground now has multiple little light reflections in the watery areas of the pavement I am walking. “Ooooohhh that's nice” I smilingly proclaim to myself, I enjoy that a lot.

Sooo what to do? I now get reminded of the ToTM and also my idea of chasing down the devil and killing him with the sound of my bass. Yeah that's a splendid idea. I take off in the opposite direction of my flat and I turn around mid air continuing flying backwards. Here I start imagining that I am tightening an invisible elastic string that will send me off fast towards my flat when I let go. This effect does happen, though not as powerful (don't get me wrong I am picking up A LOT of speed) as I would have thought. I decide to take a quick detour by flying upwards and as altitude increases I notice the ocean. It is beautiful with the large steady waves and a sunset in the background. As I am up there the final light of the sun disappears.

I decide to fly down towards it and continue out over the water. And although I am cold I decide to fly down so I am skimming the surface. I can clearly feel the water against my torso, but there is no obstruction to my flight from the water. After a short while I look out over the horizon and it is starting to bend upwards in the sides (The opposite direction to how it would normally look considering the earth is round). Straight ahead of me I sense a big (BIG!) maelstrom and although the temptation of looking at it close makes me fly just that little closer to the edge, I decide it isn't the right time to investigate that.

I turn around and am amazed to find that the vortex is making it really difficult for me to fly away (I am not sure if me thinking there could be a black hole in the bottom of it comes before or after I notice I am struggling to fly away). I remind myself that I am lucid and with a quick effort of will the gravity chains break and I am off again. Although I remember being cold I am thinking to myself that it isn't that bad now. Still I try and think of the temperature of the wind against me increasing.

I fly to my flat and enter from the garden side. I am looking around and can't immediately find my bass. After turning around one more time, with a bit more intention of it being there I realise there are two of them. I start out by picking up the one lying on the bed, but to my surprise it doesn't have a fretboard. I wonder if this will count negatively towards the task as to me at that instance it doesn't really. However, I might miss out on some training so I ditch it and go for the one on the couch, which is pretty much lying in the position it is in real life, although on a different couch.

I pick it up and I strum the strings. The sound is.. well... bassy and to my annoyance I can't really play any grooves on it. Normally in my dreams I can play some funky grooves, but the lucidity is probably blocking it by giving me access to my waking technical knowledge of the instrument (have had it for 2 months and never touched an instrument before). I do briefly strum the different strings and try the fretboard, but I quickly abandon using the fretboard.

The sound of the bass is somehow skewed, it is deeper and more encompassing than normal, but at the same time there is a higher pitched ending tone regardless of the strings I play. The sound does reverberate a bit in my dream body, but not the full on flowing through me I had hoped for when thinking about the scenario awake.

I decide to go and kill some minions. I jump though the window, foot first, bass in hand ready to go murder mobs, bard style! I run across the lawn and I can see a man with red skin on the road outside it. I shout out “Hey! Devil boy!” and start running towards him. I don't actually know if this is the boss I am after, but I believe so at the start. However as he briefly walks towards me and I start strumming the bass he sort off gets knocked out and decide to make a run for it. Now more red skinned humanoids are starting to pursue me, and although I don't kill them with the sound of my bass they do get knocked back. As they come closer from every direction I decide to hit them with the base of my bass (hehe) while strumming a node. This seems to work on some of them, but not all of them (My confidence in the instrument or the lack of it, seems to have carried over in to dreaming state).

After a while they realise that it is stupid pursuing me and I get time enough to run around the corner to find original devil boy (this is however when I notice there are lots of red skinned people and devil boy might not actually be their leader). The dream is a lot brighter now and they are all standing at a bus stop.

On my way around the corner I notice my fingers are starting to hurt and my D string is broken. In fact the strings all look like a mess and I get a brief doubt if my waking bass is all-right. Your fingers in waking life to respond to the movements of your dream fingers (not sharp enough here to realise there is no way I could have gotten up and actually picked up the bass).

I wake up.

My parents and I took a trip to a motorcycle shop. My dad turned a black Harley Davidson and played with the engine a bit. He made it go "Rum rum rumrumrumrumrumr RUUMM rumrmumrumrum!" I see a lady coming out of the shop, she walks towards us and asks, "Hmm, I have a few bikes in the back, they're much better than these ones up front! But please, adults only." My mom gestured me to stay back and she walked with my dad to the back of the shop. A cutscene shows my parents walking into a dark room. A pentagon was painted on the floor, with candles around the edges. The lady pushed them onto the pentagon and said some sort of chant. My parents mutated with each other, and became some sort of demon. "It" had a ram skull head, it's chest belched fire, and the hands, oh the hands were horrible. They were full of blood and had long, black claws. The hands didn't have any flesh, instead, they were just skeleton. I was frightened for my life. I saw the fire come from the back of the shop, and ran for my life. I ran and ran, all I saw were lights of stores and restaurants. It was late at night, about 11:00. I kept running, until I stopped at one restaurant. There was an essence there, an essence of comfort, love, and peace. I walked into it. I felt safe, as if I was...home. I walked up to a person that was sitting at a table, and I screamed, "Miss! You have to help me! My parents...th-they've turned into monsters....Please! Help me!!!" The lady turned and to my suprise, it was Lady Gaga! She had, peach colored hair, with aqua-blue highlights. In a sweet voice she replied, "Don't worry, I'll protect you. Here, maybe this will make you feel better." She stood up, and walked to a keyboard. She played beautifully for a few seconds then began to sing, "Whenever I dressed cool my parents put up a fight...." (This song is Hair, from her new album Born This Way, and it's my favorite song at the moment) The chorus, when she hit the chorus, it was beautiful. This dream went form a blood curdling nightmare, to a sweet, comfortable eden. As she finished the song, I woke up.

every time i try to control a dream or i think i am in control, it takes a dark turn. it will already be taking a dark turn and when i try to change it it gets even worse. ask me about some of my worst dreams.

So hi, this is my first Dream Journal entry. I have a few friends on here who got me into this whole dream journal thing, so I've been writing a few details I can remember of my dreams in a notebook next to my bed. And what a better way to start out the first DJ with a nightmare?

I literally don't have nightmares, I can only remember one nightmare and it's a repetitive one I've had a few times between the ages of 8 and 16 (I shall DJ that one later). I get more "anxiety" dreams than nightmares where I'm just unsettled and panicked but not literally frightened BUT this one's really intense. Let it be known that it took place in my old room back at my parents house who I only visit a few times a year.

(Disclaimer: I've told this to a friend, and she suggests it's deep enough that it could be a story or a book or something, so if I end up doing that, TOO BAD it is my story and if you claim it as yours I will be really... sad. I won't be 100% specific for this reason. That is all.)

OK the nightmare. Sorry.

I had this dream the night of March 28th, 2011. Basically, I'm viewing myself in a third-person kid of way where I'm birds-eye-viewing the whole nightmare so I can't do anything about what's going on, but I am able to see my character (I'll explain later).

There's a "devil" - more like a white guy w/ black hair and a red suit and black collar - who is a completely real person with evil intentions. He sends out a massive call to the world that he's got a bounty list of people who are doing good things against the devil in some way. The public's reaction is "well this is scary but we can't do anything about it so just go with it I'm sorry." The list is sent out through the media but me as the dream-viewer can only make out a few names that I can't read. But then the last two people on the list are both my character and my partner's names. Then in comes my cheesy dramatic transitions I get in my dreams, where its like my birds-eye-viewed self is filming it, so my birds-eye camera zooms in to the character's dramatic facial expression, there's dramatic music, all that.

Then I - and my character - has a vision of sorts, seeing what the devil does to the "devil offenders." They're in a blood-red room that has no walls or ceiling (so big it's endless), and there's several people sitting in the center of the room in those old-school hair dryers that go over your head like a space man helmet. But instead of a space man helmet it's a stove bruner, the coils hovering over the person's head like an angel's halo. The devil says the word and the unforeseen henchmen pulls some level somewhere that lowers the burners down against the people's heads that burns their head and brains and BLEH, along w/ some electricity that eletricutes them dead. I see my partner in the corner handcuffed to a metal bar on the side, looking distressed.

Insert dramatic music transition here. From here on assume when I mean "I", I mean my character of myself I'm seeing.

I am kind of like Temperance from the "Bones" TV show, where I'm an investigator of some sort with a slightly goofy/gorgeous partner and we bring justice to bad people. I'm in the same haircut as her, the same kind of outfits and all that but I can't recall if I'm actually HER or not. My partner - whose name is unrecognizable to me, I literally hear gibberish when I'm saying/hearing/reading his name - is a more tan-colored-trench-coated-blond version of Booth from Bones, but he's definitely not supposed to be him.

ANYWHO, I've seen the coverage on the news on a TV, then had my vision and realized I'm on the list. Here's where I'm all omgomgomgomg in my head. What the media also says is that there's a helpline for the people who are on the devil's list. There's some announcer going "Are you on the list? Call ###-####" or whatever in a cheery "nothing's wrong everything's ok" kind of voice. I reach for a phone and dial anxiously. I get the same girl's voice as the operator. I then tell her I'm on the list and I'm trying to explain to her that I'm an investigator and that's probably why I'm on the list but I don't know what to do I don't want to die. As I'm explaining, I see on the TV set in front of me that there's one person who survived the list - an actress who played a private investigator role on a TV show - and her interview was coming up next. I focus back on the call, and the girl operator takes everything I say into consideration and says she can help me. In mid sentence of her transferring to somebody who can help, the line goes dead. again. I instantly think I'm gonna die I'm gonna die I'm gonna die. Dramatic music like it's gonna go to another transition, and I FREAKIN' WAKE UP.

It's about 6am. I feel suddenly anxious, lots of adrenaline, and then I see the shadow on the ceiling. Part of it looks like a horn and a shoulder. I'm all and move the items on my desk haphazardly so the shadow goes away. Then I feel like and can't believe I just had a nightmare. I'm unable, thank goodness, to get back into the nightmare.

TA DA

20.02.2011

A Little Mystery (Non-lucid)

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

This dream picks up where the last one left off.

There is a lapse in time and now I'm in "my room" in this apartment. I am starting to seriously doubt whether this is actually Phoebe's Upper East Side home or not. I've received a gift from Rose--it's a giftbag with some sort of all natural hand and body cleansers. They're cheap and from Duane Reade, the local convenience store chain. I doubt I'll use them, but I appreciate the friendly gesture. I am puzzled though: is it my birthday? What's the occasion? And how did Rose manage to give these to me? I don't see her here.

I stop trying to figure out these inconsistencies as I feel the urge to go to the bathroom. It's not far, just a few feet down the hall. The interior is painted forest green, and there's loads of lavish decorations all over the walls. It's pretty ridiculous, in my opinion; I couldn't stand living here. At any rate, I take care of business; and as I wash up I look out the West-facing window to see it's a bright sunny day. It feels like morning; I must have slept the night here after dinner [in the previous dream]. There is a grassy lawn a couple stories down, and across the lawn is another redwood-siding apartment building. It occurs to me that this isn't in New York at all; it's in Missouri! This begins to make a little more sense, as I conclude that this is the apartment complex where Rado lives. Through the window on the lawn I can also see a pool where a couple ladies are sunbathing by the side. It looks like a great day, and I want to get some fresh air.

I wonder if Rado is in his apartment, so leaving mine I decide to pay him a visit. First I have to determine if the apartment I just left is in the same building as his. Outside I realize I'm still only in socks; the ground is wet as if from a recent rain, but I'm too eager to move around and so walk down the boardwalk that connects building to building and apartment to apartment.

There are people outside, here; some I know, some I don't. I seem to see Mark but fail to ask what in the world he's doing in Missouri. And after all, I'm too interested in other things to stop and talk.

Across the lawn on another boardwalk are some middle-aged business men in gray suits. I get a pretty nasty vibe from them, even though they're a good 30 or 40 meters away. I can overhear that they're talking about us younger folk. They seem to think we're a bunch of new-age hippie apes. What an exaggeration! I'm far from a hippie, and definitely not an ape. Overhearing them talk about this, though, I'm not offended. Indeed I sort of pity the guys for how self-absorbed and blinded by money they are. Now's not the time, though, to do anything about that. I realize I'm going to need to put some shoes on if I want to find Rado's building, so I dash back down the boardwalk towards the apartment door that I left only a short while before.

Mom and Dad are here just inside the front door of the apartment. They were wondering where I had gone off to; but before they can inquire, somebody is on the phone and wants to speak with me. I immediately and without doubt realize that I am about to speak on the phone with the devil. The evil vibe I got from the business men just moments before explodes into this incredible eery sensation that something super suspicious is afoot.

I cautiously take the phone from my dad and ask him who is on the other line. Apparently I'm about to speak with a certain "Mrs. Brisby."

"Hello, Mrs. Brisby?" I begin.

But to my surprise I hear my grandpa on the other line; he cuts straight to the chase.

"I need you to come over. There's something I have to show you."

I am suspicious. I keep the pretense of speaking to "Mrs. Brisby," but grandpa has none of it. I finally aknowledge that I am speaking to grandpa, or somebody who insists on pretending he is my grandfather.

"It's important, come over right away," he insists.

So I give in; I agree to go over as soon as I have some shoes on, and I hang up the phone.

Mom immediately asks where I had gone off to; I tell her I was just out for a walk. She says everybody was worried, but she knew I'd come back because I "left this"--she shows me my watch--on my dresser. Thankful to have it back, I put my watch on my wrist.

I ask, "What does grandpa want me to see?"

At first Mom says she doesn't know, but after some pressing she says, "It's something [made of] wood, something pretty."

And then I wake.

non-dream - non-lucid - lucid

I am having my bianual influenza that indicates the season is changing, and in this begining phase it seems to have had quite and influence on my dreaming, both in plots and vividnes. No lucids although I might have to try and replicate the way I killed the Devil

07-09-10 I was in a storyline similar to season 5 of Supernatural with the whole apocalypse looming. I was a character not in the show who was very knowledgeable about demonic infestations and biblical catastrophes in general. The two people I was trying to help were female and I found it a bit odd that they hadn't looked to other religions in order to solve their Judaic/Christian mess. However I was keen on exploring some Mayan traditions. So for some reason I transformed into a woman that had to be possessed by about 21 demons from different places in the world and when I got the final 1 I got the classical black eyes.

I summoned Lucifer and he came to a large pyramid. We did a sort of arm wrestle and I won resulting in him going unconscious. I start dragging him towards the top of the pyramid as he gets heavier and heavier, I manage with a huge amount of effort to get him to the top. As he approaches the sacred place where he can be destroyed he starts emitting a bright green glow and within the green glow there are ancient runes on his skin glowing brighter green almost white (Honestly have never, ever produced such a cool effect, as this one in my dreams! Want to see if I can replicate that to my lucids and seriously start whooping demons). I keep dragging him towards the spot with a greater difficulty now as he is awake and struggling. I manage to get him there and I raise my right hand and start pushing it towards his chest and as I do this a white light starts surrounding us, in the end I touch him and he vanish in a bright explosion (I think all of the particles in his body explode and evaporates in this white light).

I am then in the hotel room where the two females and I are staying and I am in my normal body wearing a towel around my waist, must have just come out of the shower. We chit chat and in the end I this dialogue is played out.

“Oh and by the way I took care of your little apocalypse problem”
“Problem?”
“Yeah I stopped the apocalypse”
“Apocalypse.. wait a minute?”
“I killed Lucifer, you don't have to thank me”
“You killed Lucifer?”
“Yep I took him to the top of a Mayan pyramid and destroyed him”

(The longest dialouge I have been able to replicate, although the accuracy is probably not flawless)

All in a very laid back casual tone as if it was just another day at the office.
…
I was in a garden receiving some education on how to become a police officer. Pil was there and he was the teacher's pet having send her emails and prepared himself. I on the other hand was just there. We were only three people there and it disappointed out teacher. She had had an accident recently and she kept asking about what reactions one could expect from her, which embarrassed me a bit as I should know me being a psychology student.

The whole situation was a bit weird as this teacher was a person, but in the shape of a lime still attached to the tree. The lime tree contained only prime examples of fruits upon closer inspection.
…
I am still in the supernatural plot trying to persuade a special child to accompany us on a journey as he is prophesied to be the one killing the devil. In the end I manage to persuade him by approaching him and his brother, saying something like
“I have approached you many times now haven't I?”
“yes”
“And on all these times I have allowed you to leave if you didn't want to come right?”
“Yes”
“Your brother is very special and important, do you know this?”
“...yes”
“My point is that I am not a paedophile or anything”
(there is an awkward silence on the entire beach)
“So how about we take you AND your parents on a Journey”

The brothers both agree that this sounds like a good idea and they go to get their parents. An accomplish of mine approach me and say that we don't have enough money to bring them all to egypt and the other places we are going. I tell him we are only taking them around the corner to Mexico to visit the Mayan ruins, my devious plan being that the parents will realise we are the good guys and that their son is very special and either help us develop him or let us take him on a quest to become who he is supposed to be.

Hey folks, first post! Anywho, here's my dream.

I'm alone in an apartment that I lived in as a child, but now it is very run down. It generally looks like a crack house, but there is nobody in there but me. The paint is peeling, there is a layer of filth on everything and there are mattresses all over the floor. After a quick look around, I leave and head to my car in the parking lot.

Next to my car is an old, beat-up, puke green and rust colored pickup truck. Like an old 70's Dodge looking truck. The truck is parked about an inch away from my drivers' side door and the side of my (brand new) car is scraped and dented up. There is clearly puke green paint all over the side of my car and it becomes obvious what happened.

Inside the truck sits a harmless looking, little old man with a frumpy sort of face and big bushy eye brows, a ratty looking baseball style hat, squinty eyes sunk inside the weathered skin on his face, smoking a stubby little cigar the is well chewed on. He looks over at me and I instantly begin a fit of rage. Yelling and screaming at him as loud as I can. He sits unaffected, smoking his cigar. Somehow, we come to the agreement that he will pay for the materials to fix the damage to my car and I would do the job myself (I used to be in auto-body before college). So I get in his truck and we drive to the auto-body supply store to buy materials.

The old man has barely batted an eye during the whole dream. Never an ounce of emotion from him. As we're driving, he looks over at me with this really evil, sinister glare.

Puffing on his cigar, he says: "It feels good. Doesn't it?"

Confused, I reply: "What?"

Still glaring, he continues: "To hate. It feels gooooooooood to hate."

This is where I started getting creeped out. He drew goooooooooood way out and took some sort of enjoyment in the mere notion of feeling good due to projecting hate. Saying the word from his gut.

Still glaring, he takes a deep puff of his cigar and continues: "HE hates all of you, ya know." (HE referring to GOD, all of you referring to humans)

He begins to grin the most horrible grin I've ever seen, revealing pointy, yellow, rotten teeth and a black tongue and lets out a slight laugh, as if to direct it at me and the fact that I had no idea what he knew. When I notice that he is clearly evil, he begins to bellow a deep laugh at me. Without thinking, I slide across the seat (old pickup truck bench style seat) and head-butt him in the face 4 or 5 times as hard as I can. Really hitting him hard.

I wake up, head-butting my girlfriend in the back of her head, who is sleeping next to me. My face is killing me. We both wake up, and after the scare we drift back to sleep. After just barely drifting off, I am back in the truck with the old man, and he is glaring at me and laughing. Like he made me head-butt my girlfriend and was just toying with me. He grins the same horrible grin, his yellow teeth peek out from behind his cigar and then he's gone and the whole thing is over.

Most of the time, I don't remember much in the way of details of most of my dreams. I remember every molecule of this dream. All the quotes are accurate. All the environment descriptions are accurate. Every single second is accounted for and recalled and even perfectly re-playable in my head.

My first entry to my dream journal is a dream I found rather interesting. It happened this morning just before I woke up.


I was in the canteen of my school, when the devil (just looked like a normal person though) appeared and sent me to some sort of other world, and told me I had to figure out within 10 years how to get out.

The other world started with a small brown room with no windows or doors, is slowly expanded into the canteen in my school again. My friends were there as they usually would be. It felt strange though, I knew it was some other world, and that they weren't real, so instead of using money to get stuff out of the vending machine I grabbed a guitar that was conveniently next to me and I went to smash the window of the vending machine, but a teacher stopped me and said "what do you think you are doing". So I said back to him, "err, this is just a fake universe, so I assumed it would be ok", and he just looked at me weirdly and said plainly "eh, no" and walked away.

I was sitting there, without anything form the vending machine, trying to figure out how to get out of this fake world with no freedom.


Then, "wait a minute, this is kinda like what a dream would be like... wait a minute, this is a dream... wait a minute, the devil was trying to tell me that lucidity is how to get out!!!"

So, I became lucid, I realised it was a dream. But I was still stuck in that canteen, but I just wanted to settle a little un-finished business between me and the vending machine. There was no chocolate, which is what I wanted. So before I smashed the window, I tried to make some chocolate appear in it, but it didn't work. So I just smashed the window with the guitar and grabbed a bottle of chocolate milk, and I tried to turn that into a chocolate bar, but that didn't work, so I smashed the window of the canteen and flew out, it felt like I didn't have much power in there.

Once I got out I made a big tin of chocolate appear, it didn't taste of much, that I can remember anyway. So I gave it to these kids nearby, and then they said, "awww no white chocolate", so I gave then some.

My friend followed me outside, and the devil appeared again, but I didn't see him as the devil any more, just a normal person that looked like the devil looked earlier. And as I was walking up the street talking to them, telling them how I was in a dream, I was telling them to do a reality check too, just to prove to them it was a dream. I tried to get them to do the nose pinch RC, but they were confused how to do it. So I said, "look at my hand", and my friend was like "Woa", and the other guy was like "HOLY SHIT!!!", he seemed pretty freaked out, and sort of took a step back in shock.

I was about to go and do my own thing, but it was too late...

I woke up.

Morning of May 29, 1965. Saturday. (Memorial Day weekend - age four.)



In an odd “twist” on comical partial precognition (which has been very common for me throughout my life), I dreamt (semi-lucid) at age four, in Chipmunk Coulee in Wisconsin, that my father drove us to the “edge of the world” just beyond the end of a road that just stopped. There, a thin red devil (with a narrow beard) danced with a pitchfork in an almost comical way (as in the “Hot Stuff” comic book with “Grandpa Blaze”, who often looked different, though), but there was concern that nothing else existed beyond that area beyond the fence and gate (assumed in my dream), where he lived in a grass hut or haystack? or some such, that was always catching on fire and needed to be put out by a team of chipmunks somehow (water-filled nut-shells?). The world would have just a smooth cliff-like drop and nothing beyond.

In real life, the same afternoon as the morning of this dream, my father got directions from someone mixed up, and ended up driving down a road that actually did come to a sudden end and he talked about the “end of the road” - which, in my young mind, caused me to contemplate that it was as far as one could travel in that direction (south). A thin farmer with a pitchfork approached our car, giving me a somewhat uneasy feeling (thinking of my dream) of being near the “edge of the world”. The seemingly annoyed farmer looked at us suspiciously at first but gave my father instructions on what roads to take from there.

Note to self: I see that I still have the bad habit of writing “chimpmunk” instead of chipmunk, even after all these years.

2 minutes 30 seconds to read.

Saturday morning, 16 November 1974. (Reviewed Sunday morning, 28 August 2022.)

"Hot Stuff's Day Out"

Dream # 2,889-01.



My dream begins in an unrealistic version of my Cubitis bedroom. There is no west wall, so the room is open to the outside. The house sits atop a hill that overlooks a forest in an unknown region in daylight under a blue sky.

I walk to where the floor ends. Instead of my feet slipping forward with me falling backward (as occurs in the first post-hypnagogic dream of every sleep cycle), REM atonia results in vivid vestibular-motor phasing with the blissful sensation of somersaulting down the hillside over the tall grass. The event has the essence of slow motion.

After I stop somersaulting upon reaching the foot of the hill, my dream self’s imaginary body temporarily modeling my sleeping position at this point, auditory phasing initiates as one of the only “narrators” I have experienced in the dream state. (Otherwise, such a transition is typical, as vivid phasing responses often occur with linearity. For example, hallucinatory vestibular-motor phasing triggers hallucinatory auditory phasing here.)

The unseen narrator, speaking in a loud unfamiliar voice with a British, Australian, or New Zealand accent coming from an unknown overhead source, does not express awareness of my presence. He seems to be engaged in a formal voice-over for a PBS documentary. I look up and see a statue several feet away that resembles an Easter Island statue, except it is only about eight feet high. The narrator talks about “African gods.” (Yes, I know Easter Island and Africa are in different regions of the world, but dreams often render falsehoods to prevent confusing dream content with real-world aspects.)

In my dream’s final scene, I watch three unfamiliar male explorers (probably in their forties) ascend the hillside. They are wearing beige safari outfits. I am on a cliff without the implication of having climbed up (no slope navigation, otherwise regular in my dreams). I enter a cave with the men, though they seem unaware of my presence. (One of the men vaguely reminds me of Abel from DC’s “House of Secrets.”)

An adult version of Hot Stuff the Little Devil (a Harvey comic book character) walks out from a deeper part of the cave to greet the men. The men appear terrified, remaining motionless, but I find the situation hilarious. The amusing “devil” wears a diaper (as in the comic book). There seems to be no threat, only a curious comedic essence. (A demon or devil would not otherwise appear in a lucid dream or most dream states with any level of self-awareness because of conscious bias, that is because I know they do not exist.)

My vestibular-motor phasing response resulting from REM atonia has occurred throughout every sleep cycle since childhood. Managing this physiological event or integrating spontaneously into the phasing effect is unrelated to the misconception of “astral projection,” a term that a legitimate lucid dreamer would never use.

Statues are a fundamental response to my intuitive, metacognitive, or lucid recognition of REM atonia that occurs throughout all dreams in healthy people. This attribute was one of the first natural and self-evident properties I recognized about “lucid dreaming” (or any mode of dreaming) at age 4, long before I heard the term. (On a side note, someone who “interprets” dreams in contrast to recognizing causality could not be a lucid dreamer despite any claims they might otherwise make.)


In addition to statues being an intuitive or lucid response to REM atonia, caves also regularly appear. However, it is often in induction rather than an outcome (as in this instance). Caves are how I intuitively (or lucidly in hypnagogia or post-hypnagogia) perceive my entry into a deeper sleep.

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