Talking to my mother I was talking to my mother, possibly about a vacuum cleaner. Ghost leviathans: the return My father is watching a video about Subnautica on the living room TV. Once it ends, he clicks on a second video, and the title alarms me to the fact that it might be about ghost leviathans. He starts by flying from the sky down to the water, like with the freecam command. Then he's playing normally and swimming at the top with a seaglide. Then he swims down and I repeatedly tell my father to pause since I with my thallassophobia don't quite enjoy it. He pauses it in the last second before a ghost leviathan would've appeared. Buying dogs I am in a supermarket with my mother, and we see a basket of pugs being sold. We decide to buy them. Then we are at home, which is apparently a farm, built in a weird area right in the middle of the border of 4 or more biomes. There also seem to be some strange temporal and general anomalies in reality. Then I am going to sleep, and on my way, I see that two of the pugs have lied down together on my mother's legs, and I wonder if that can even be comfortable. It also seems we just recently moved, since I felt a bit uncomfortable sleeping there. The next day, I see an old woman sitting on a clearly very old and abandoned swing, on a moderately large, totally overgrown field of grass. There might have also been a seesaw made of solid wood, which has by now totally rotten. I don't know what happened in between, but now she's awake. She tells me she's supposed to have been in a coma for 20 years, and that I apparently woke her up 10 years too early. I tell her that I'll put her back in a coma and that it will feel like only 5 seconds have passed, and so I do that.
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid FA / AP People live in underground tunnels and different communities occupy different zones and compete among themselves. There isn't an open war, but there is a feeling of war. No one enters the other community's space but when outside there are no rules. I had to be outside for some reason and was chased by some dudes. I escaped in time to the tunnels and once I crossed the entrance they respect the limit and just stay outside, taunting me to come out. We are run by nazi like leaders and everybody lives in fear and we can't trust no one. I have a girl friend who just recently fell in love with a guy and vice versa. He is staying at her place and he found some really old stuff she had forgotten under some bed sheets in a chest. She wasn't hiding them or anything, just forgot of their existence and they are now considered forbidden items. She tells me she fears for her life, because there is a chance he denounced her for it. There is an Ikea like factory, which is the sole source of income for much of the people of my community. Without it, they'd starve, but the workplace is a constant climate of terror. I do not work there, but I am passing by at one of their workshops, for some reason and they make me line up with the workers, who are terrified. One of the big nazi bosses is there today and he claims someone did something wrong and asks for a certain number of people to come forward and admit to the wrong doing or they'll have to fire random people until someone admits to the error. People are hesitant. No one wants to admit guilt and they know they might even die if they piss off the bosses, but losing the job also means an almost certain slow death. Still, a couple of people move forward, but not enough to reach the quota of people they say they were looking for. But today they are feeling generous, so they fire those people and just demand the rest of the employees to watch some extremely boring brainwashing film for hours. I try to sneak out with the ones that were fired, but a supervisor who found some pencil that is supposed to be over some furniture in the expo area, asks me to put it back and he is extremely detailed that it has to be put in a certain way on a certain piece of mahogany furniture and nowhere else. He'll now if I put it somewhere else and threatens me with severe punishment. So I need to go in and cross the workshop where the workers are watching the stupid film. But I cannot, in any way, disrupt it or bring attention to me, as I risk being killed for doing so. So I find myself stuck in the middle of it, moving one baby step at a time, trying to blend in, so that I can put back the stupid pencil in its designated place. Me and Riverstone live in an apartment building. Our apartment has a balcony that is falling apart. It has cracks that are getting bigger every day and one day as I am outside watching the cracks on a pillar underneath it, the whole thing breaks down and drags a whole wall with it down a hill on the back of the building, into a parking lot. No persons get hurt and it seems like it didn't even hit cars, but actually it scraped a van a little bit. The kid who owns the van comes by and is very upset, not angry just shaken. He is imagining how he could be there a second earlier and be hit by the debris. He wants me to hug him. I feel weird about it but I do and he cries on my arms. Meanwhile the whole neighborhood is assessing the damages. The building seems stable. Later, inside, I pick up my cat Cuscus which appeared on the hallway for some reason. and take him to the elevator with me, alongside some neighbor. I push the button to 4th floor and while riding the elevator I remember the recurring nightmares I used to have with the elevator never stopping and I see it about to happen again as we reach 5th floor instead of stopping at the 4th. But I reject the nightmare and the elevator stops at the 5th floor. Then I take the stairs down to the 4th. I am surprised by small beautiful golden statues of different Buddhas placed in the handrail down the stairs. I am sure Riverstone put them there but I wonder what the neighbors will say. Also feel like they'll end up being stolen, so I take one with me to go ask him what was he thinking. I feel like a tourist in some Portuguese village in the mountains. I am walking up towards the village center and I am being harassed by two African men. I think one is trying to rob my bag by having the other one distracting me, but I may be wrong. Anyway, I feel uncomfortable so I fly up and land on the church terrace that oversees the village center. Lots of tourists, including a dutch couple who is sunbathing fully naked, lying down in the church terrace, with something covering their genitals, like their hats or so. There is a restaurant and snack-bar and I go in looking for a snack, but food is really expensive, their signature dish is some mix of seafood that costs a fortune, like hundred euros a person. And the snack bar on the other hand is at the very back of the place and looks pitiful, dark and unwelcoming, So I decide to give up on this one and instead I find a very cute place run by Koreans. An old Korean lady sells beverages and snacks at her own porch, which has a beautiful view to the mountains. Her daughter introduces herself, her name sounded like Jane Over, which I find amusing. She is a lawyer or something, and apparently rich as she is picked up by an helicopter. I continue my adventure by not going back to the village but hiking down a hill leading me to a river valley. At a point, the helicopter passes by, really low and hovers and turns around without them noticing I am on the hill and I am almost cut by the blades on its tail. I escape into an excavated rock, where I stay until they are gone. From there I look up to the higher mountain around and I see something that I'd like to try. There is an hanger inside the mountain from where comes a kind of tobogan slide that goes downhill. From inside the hangar come large transparent spheres, like zorbs, for people to go downhill. But the zorbs are not of the kind that send people tumbling down uncontrollably, but more like the vehicles from the Jurassic World. I find a dirt road leading upwards and I take it. Then it spreads out in 3 paths and I am not sure which to take, but go for one that is sided by fences. It is getting darker and the wind starts blowing heavily with icy air that freezes my bones, so I just want to go back to the village. I spot a black dog ahead on the road looking at me and then he runs away. I keep going and find a couple gates, a bunch of dogs behind them and a small path leading to a house. I am cautious about getting on that road between all those dogs, not sure if they can get lose or not, so I just wait there observing if the dogs are friendly. They are, but still I keep my distances. Two old ladies come out, they look alike, probably sisters. They ask if I need help, but not very happy to see me. I say I am a bit lost and looking for a way to go back to the village. They reply with a bit of contempt that I won't get there this way and there is no way from here that would eventually take me there except all the way down from I came from. I say that's a pity but thank them for the help. They ask me where I am from and I tell them. One of them seems to be thinking for a while and then asks me how is my dog and I am surprised by that. I say I don't have one but 5 and also 4 cats, but she hints that she recognized me from years ago and that then I had only one dog. I don't remember her at all but she is right about the dog.
Updated 04-06-2021 at 12:44 PM by 34880
only one jamie dream... it was only a fraction of a second and I have no idea what happened in it. Want better dreams this week. Dog quick dream where I saw my dog get attacked by coyote/wolves. there were 3 on him and they were ripping him to shreds.
(Note: The longer my dreams are, the harder it is for me to remember details, particularly conversations, and this was a long one. There’s several hours’ worth of material here that I can only remember happened at all because I can remember remembering it in a later part of the dream, and this does raise questions of whether they ever actually played out. But, for what it’s worth, it doesn’t feel to me as if that’s what happened, and I do have many cases of knowing dream memory is working in that way to compare it to.) The earliest part I can remember is of a disaster taking place, a flood sweeping through a public building of some kind. Everybody is trying to get out. I’m one of the last out, but I wait, holding the door open so that the waters don’t forcibly close it and trap the one person who’s still there. It took him a while to believe this was actually happening (understandable, considering how weird it is), so he didn’t get out as quickly as everyone else. After this series of events is the biggest memory gap, which seems to mainly consist of meeting up with a large group of people and preparing for some kind of expedition together. I become lucid not long before we’re going to set off, although it’s not so much me realizing that it’s a dream as it is the unconscious knowledge that it’s a dream, which I’ve been acting on this whole time, becoming conscious. And this sort of makes it feel as if I’ve been lucid the whole time, if that makes sense. I’m looking out the window of a house onto the rolling fields beyond as it happens. I still have some preparation to do here, though, so I’m still here packing as everybody else is leaving. I’m taking my hiking backpack, the black one with yellow trim. It occurs to me to wonder whether I need to do this in a dream, since I can just make things appear if I need them. But I have the impression, based on earlier conversations, that I might not be able to do that in some of the places we’re going, and so I’ll want to make sure I have essentials with me, at least. The last thing I grab is my brown aviator-style jacket, which I fold and pack into the backpack before buckling it and heading downstairs and outside. I can just see somebody disappearing past the other side of the house, down a broad stone staircase. That’s where everybody’s gone. I try flying part of the way, but perhaps because of the hiking backpack—even though it doesn’t feel heavy—it’s hard to get more than a couple feet off the ground. But flying seems to be slower than running anyway, so I just run around the side and down the stairs. I’m now in an area with several platforms rising a distance above the ground. Next to one on the far side is a cliff wall with a small tunnel partway up, a little above head height. A young women is nearby – it seems she had to stop to do something before going onward. I jump onto one of the platforms, where I see some piled-up clothing. I recognize it as a kind of uniform for us to wear. It looks a bit like a karate gi: loose pants and a shirt that ties around the front, white, though a little discolored with age and threadbare in places. On some of the edges, flowers are embroidered in pale colors. I put it on over my clothing. Jumping onto the last platform and up to the tunnel—taking off the backpack and pushing it in first—is practically effortless, much easier than it would be in waking life, which makes it kind of fun. The tunnel is not tall enough to walk in, and it narrows considerably not far ahead, so I push the backpack in ahead of me. It barely fits, and I can see it slide down once it gets past the narrow point, where the tunnel slopes downward. I barely fit, too – I actually have to turn my head to the side to squeeze through. But soon, it’s large enough to where I can crawl again, and then walk upright. The tunnel is made of squares of some smooth material, solid black in the center but with a stripe of red-orange around the edges that glows, lighting the way. As I walk, it slopes further downward and eventually drops me into a corridor with a grimy, institutional feel to it. All dimly and artificially lit, as if I’m somewhere underground. It has a distinctly unpleasant vibe – although part of the reason may be because of what I know about this place. It is actually a sentient environment, and not a very nice one, and now that I’m inside of it, it’s going to be tracking my every move and shaping itself according to my actions and reactions. It’s not the destination – just somewhere we have to pass through on the way. There’ll be a test at the end that has to be passed before we can get out – but this place doesn’t like people leaving it and will be actively throwing obstacles in our way. My backpack isn’t here – the place probably hid it somewhere, and so I’ll have to be on the lookout for it. I turn towards the right, reading the plates on the doors as I go by, deciding which room to enter first. The place looks to be some sort of school judging by what they say. As I walk, faint, unpleasant feeling-tones arise, like the ghosts of memories with an archaic, dark quality to them, although they definitely don't involve my personal past – not in this lifetime, anyway. Or maybe they’re anticipations of what I’ll find here, behind the doors. Or maybe both. I also see a set of stairs leading downwards, but I don’t want to leave this floor just yet. After reaching the end of the corridor, I head back, still making up my mind. It’s not terribly important where I go first, but I am aware that, as the first deliberate choice I make here, it will give the place some insight into me, will establish the course of how things will go. I decide on a room about midway between the end of the corridor and where I started from labelled “Faculty Lounge.” As I open the door, I’m surprised by what I see. It’s a little room, somewhat like the bedroom of a hostel, with two bunk beds, a table off to one side and some assorted furniture – overall, quite nice apart from the lack of windows. But the really surprising thing is that it’s already occupied by two people from the group I started with. Sam is there—Sam, maker of ukuleles, fixer of anything with strings and frets, host of concerts and an accomplished musician in his own right. His dog is there with him. The other person isn’t waking-life familiar, although he does somewhat resemble one of my coworkers, with dark hair, pale skin and some kind of facial hair, I think. A dog has come in with me as well, a large, black one. I don’t pay much attention to it besides noting that it’s mine and hoping that the room isn’t going to be too crowded now. Sam greets me – but he uses a different name, a man’s name. They must be seeing this place and this situation differently than I do, I realize. It had been mentioned at the earlier gatherings that it would appear differently to everybody – but I had assumed that we would also be going through it alone, individually, and so it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d find myself in this kind of situation. But I can roll with it. We talk for a little while. At one point, one of them advises me to be careful not to give this place “the impression that I’m somebody it can f*** with.” Sam mentions that he’s working on a puzzle—it seems to be set up on the table there—and I say I’ll leave him to it. I mention, though, that I’m good with puzzles, and he invites me to come help put it together. This must be part of their test, I realize – and it strikes me that maybe it isn’t a coincidence I ended up here to help them with it, although from everything I’ve heard, it would be uncharacteristically benevolent for the place to intentionally direct me to them. The puzzle seems to mainly feature cute baby animals, and it is close to being finished. I help assemble the remaining pieces as Sam tells me some anecdotes he’s heard about a 20th century Viennese composer. He can’t remember which one they’re about. I notice, though, that the bottom edge of the puzzle isn’t complete. Sam is stirring some sort of gooey blue liquid, and I realize that that will also be part of it: the tests, though different, all have one thing in common: incorporating two bowls of these brightly colored mixtures into them somehow. 14.7.20
Dream 1: I was a sort of groundskeeper for a Boy Scout camp in the woods. It was the last day, and everyone was ready to go home after a week of camping. I was replacing some paper towels in a bathroom dispenser (the kind where it has the lever you pull down to dispense the towels) in one of the bathrooms, when I noticed a noise coming to my left side. A giant python (dream self knew it was someone's pet) had made its way into the bathroom and was coming right at me. Before I could react, it bit my left arm and was starting to wrap around it. I managed to get it off before it could wrap too tightly, and I pulled its head off of my arm with my other hand. So there I was, holding this all-black python by its head, bleeding in the bathroom. Somehow I ended up making it home while holding onto the snake. I remember a distinct feeling of soreness in my fingers from clamping down on it's head to stop it from biting me again. It also made no more attempts to constrict me, as its body just dragged behind the head wherever I took it. I tried many times to kill the snake. One attempt I made, I tried to twist its neck and snap its head off. I felt and heard the bones crushing, but it didn't die. I also didn't have a free hand to do it any meaningful harm. I went downstairs and asked my mother for help. We took it into the backyard and I held it taught as she sawed off its head with my pocketknife. It was such a relief to finally be able to let go of the snake after holding so tightly onto it for so long. Dream 2: I was in the backyard of a very nice house in some tropical / Hollywood-type neighborhood, on the side of a hill. Other houses stretched far below to a body of water. The person who's house it was wasn't around, as it seems me and my girlfriend were house sitting and watching their dogs. There were at least seven different dogs there, one of whom was the leader of their pack. As me and my girlfriend were sitting in the backyard watching them run around and play, one of the smaller dogs did something it wasn't supposed to. It knew this because we saw it tuck its tail in and run away from the others. The leader saw this happen and it could not go unpunished. The smaller dog jumped into the pool in the back- yard and sank to the bottom in an attempt to hide, but it was no use. The leader dog grabbed a double kayak paddle in its mouth, swam to the bottom, and began to hit the other dog on the side, while they were both at the bottom of the pool. After it was done with the punishment, it swam back up to the surface and got out of the pool, while the other dog lay there motionless. We thought it was dead, until a few bubbles emerged from its mouth and floated to the surface. It was a relief to know it wasn't dead.
Updated 06-11-2020 at 08:10 PM by 63075
I have arrived in a green area shaded by trees. It seems that I’m traveling somewhere, and this is a stop along the way. The dream doesn’t make it explicit, but this seems to be the Czech countryside in the early 20th century – more or less. Gradually, other people arrive. I converse with a woman there as we wait. A couple large dogs arrive as well and are running around getting in people’s way. I order them to sit, figuring that they’ve just run here ahead of their masters, who won’t be far behind. They obey. One of them lies down, then rolls over on its back, obviously looking to get pet. The car arrives – a distinctly old-fashioned one. (Although there is some uncertainty there, as if the dream can’t quite decide on what sort of vehicle it should be. They all tend to be more or less interchangeable in my dreams.) There isn’t enough room in the car for everybody, but since I was there first, I get to be on its first trip. The woman I was talking to has to wait for its next one. I look around as we ride. The man next to me in the backseat is choosing the music that plays in the car via something rather like a touch-screen tablet framed in brown leather – much more aesthetic than the modern ones, I think to myself. Out the window, I see a turquoise river pouring over an oddly shaped stone formation into a lake – a place I’ve seen pictures of before but never visited. I turn around to continue to look through the back window as we drive by. I’m aware, as I look around, that in the not-so-distant future this area will be devastated by war. It adds a poignancy to being here in this beautiful place. The train – sure enough, it’s decided it would rather be a train now – approaches a platform, stopping under a curved wooden roof from which flowering vines hang down. An invasive species, I note. Parasitic to boot. But quite pretty, and so you can understand why people let it grow like this. In the future, there will be more of a push against it – but not so much here as in other places. A brief image comes to me of the future, of its yellow flowers filled with ash. It now seems as if the woman from before is on the train too, and along with another passenger, we continue our conversation. When I woke up, I remembered the following melody: I don’t think it was actually playing during any part of the dream – my impression is that it was connected to it somehow but happening on a different level of awareness. I find it rather odd that it’s in C# major since that’s not a key I ordinarily have much to do with. Maybe I waited too long before transcribing it and my pitch memory was off? Or maybe it was just in C# major. -31/1/20
I am with Melissa inside somewhere that feels like either a hotel or a house. I tell Melissa that I’ve taken one (psilocybin) mushroom and one tab of acid. There is a ceiling light in this hallway; I am staring at it when the psychedelics seem to take effect. The light is either square or circular to begin with, but it swells in size and becomes ovular in shape. It takes on more dimensionality. The light is a soft white. There are shapes on the surface, amorphous and possibly moving and changing slowly. The more I stare, the more prominent it all becomes. When I look away, the psychedelic visual is gone and the light is back to normal. I tell Melissa what I just saw. She seems like she’s paying attention, but not completely interested. Now we are outside. The building is plain and white, two stories, possibly with a stairwell on the outside. It’s surrounded by a large grassy area. The sky is baby blue, and it seems like a very pleasant day. There’s a smaller dog out here; we throw a bone for it. There are two bones, and we start throwing them at/towards each other, pretty hard. I end up leaving (because of how hard we’re throwing them).
I am outside of Dad’s house sometime in the earlier morning. There is still some light, but no color in the sky, and the colors all around are still all subdued. I am getting dressed out here, getting ready for school? I’m in the back, but it seems like the house is higher up on a hill with more of a view of the surrounding neighborhood than it really has. I am watching for the school bus, when I hear the dogs a little ways down the street, at another house. I pull my clothes on and start walking over there. I hear a man talking to them, saying he’s going to give them ‘stupid sugar’. His tone is mockingly high pitched and sweet, and I don’t like it. I think he’s in a shed or something else open to the outside, and I see the dogs sitting by him, looking up at him. The guy looks younger-middle aged and clean cut, wearing jeans and a flannel. I tell him I’m really sorry about the dogs coming over, etc. He seems much more normal now as he tells me that it’s no problem.
I start out in an apartment that seems to be mine, but doesn’t resemble anywhere I’ve ever lived. Hearing a commotion outside, I go out to investigate. I walk across a grassy lawn to where it overhangs a sidewalk. It seems coming from the direction of the train station, which is just down the street. I recall that today is the day the king is supposed to return from a trip abroad: there are probably many people there to greet him. Sure enough, I soon see him walking by, just like any other person might, alone except for three dogs. One of the dogs, a large and muscular one, is headed directly my way. I’m not threatened by it, though: I don't read any aggression in its behavior, only curiosity. It’s sniffing me over as he approaches to get it back under control. We exchange a few words. He knows who I am—I get the impression this country is on the small side, and he probably knows everyone here—and he says that he’s honored that I’m residing in his country (I am a foreigner here and not a citizen). He tells me he's happy to be the host of someone favored by the cat god. This is a chaotic, cat-like being that comes around—like any other cat—when it feels like it and not before. It appears to have taken a liking to me, and there’s now some kind of deeper bond between us. It also seems to be associated with the key of B major, whatever that means. The king is about to leave, but the dog breaks away again to continue to inspect me. He once again gets it under control and asks in a casual way what a sky bicycle actually looks like. This odd form of transportation has to do with the cat somehow—the thing apparently has a whole mythology of its own. I reply that I don’t know, as sky bicycles only take a definite form when several people are looking at one at the same time. (31.7.18)
I manage to maintain awareness while falling asleep quite early in the night and find myself in a house. As with most lucid dreams that are on the long side and include a lot of conversation, I can only remember some parts of it clearly, and without clear context. The house is not a familiar one, although its layout seems slightly reminiscent of Katya’s house. I’m in what would be the front room with two other people—one man and one woman—and three dogs. I can feel a connection with one of the dogs—a medium-sized one, possibly a Border Collie—and I sense that he’s somehow mediating between me and the rest of the dream. I think it’s likely that the other dogs were doing the same for the other people and somehow making it possible for us to be together here. One of the dogs is briefing us all about something. He’s a very large dog with short hair, probably a Great Dane. He communicates with us for a while—I don’t think he actually spoke, but my memory is fuzzy on how it happened. At one point, he mentions something about a llama farm, then cuts himself off and lays down. I realized this was something he didn’t want me and the other woman to know about, but he had let it slip, and now he’s sad about it. He refuses to say anything else, so I go into an adjoining room so he can talk to the man in private. In the meantime, I strike up a conversation with a bird on the windowsill. It’s a small bird, a bit like a titmouse but pure white. It seems friendly, and has an odd habit of repeating each phrase after it says it. After a bit, it flies off: it’s decided it wants to catch me some kind of small marine crustacean that it eats—as a kind of gift, I suppose. Aww. (26.7.18)
I am in a small classroom in a university, but it’s not lecture I’m attending here: it’s a theatrical performance. There are about a dozen of us in the audience, as well as three dogs, two of them large ones, which is almost enough to make the room crowded. Both the main actors are here already too, in the front of the room. It seems they’re performing “Faust”- or something Faust-ish, at any rate. Both the main characters are being played by women, the title role by Hélène Grimaud, although it’s not clear whether it’s actually the pianist or just a well-known actress who happens to have that name. There’s also a woman in the back who seems to be involved in some official capacity. She’s the one responsible for checking tickets—at least theoretically. I’m hoping that remains theoretical since I don’t actually have a ticket. The prevailing system here seems to work like train tickets, where the ticket is good for a certain range of dates. While I do have one on hand, it’s good for three weeks in November, and it’s still October now. She begins by giving a short speech, which she records using a small camera. Predictably, the smaller dog, which is hers, sticks its face directly in it at one point. Things come to a halt for a bit as the audience makes a fuss over all the dogs and encourages her to get them on film. But eventually, the performance itself gets underway. For a while, it’s just the two leads talking, but very clever dialogue. At one point, the Mephistopheles(-ish) character begins asking for members of the audience to volunteer. And, as people begin to get more comfortable, they begin to participate more. Soon—what with the intimate space and the lack of separation between us and the performers— it’s as if we’re a part of the performance rather than just observing it. I look out the (partially frosted glass?) wall at a man walking by—he probably thinks this is a rather odd lesson, given that it’s probably not obvious at first glance that it’s a performance. But actually, he seems to be part of the performance as well. He enters the room, placing some notes and a glass with some white wine in it on a lectern, and beings to talk about philosophy. One of the audience members comments on the wineglass. The newcomer enters into a hilarious dialogue with them, still in a philosophical vein, all in a complete deadpan. I recall him claiming that he wasn’t the same person he was a couple of drinks ago. Another half-dozen people seem to have joined the audience at some point, which is more than enough to make the room crowded. At some point, I wake up. After writing everything down, I fall asleep again and find myself in a continuation of the dream. I seem to have watched the rest of the performance, as well as the lecture taking place in the room afterwards—apparently a Marxist interpretation of diabetes, which I’ve stayed to listen to out of a combination of morbid curiosity and a lack of anywhere better to be. But I have a class I need to get to soon, and I want to get some coffee first, so I gather my stuff together and cut out early. Once outside, it occurs to me that I don’t actually know where this class is going to be held. I find my notebook in my messenger bag and look through it, but it only looks like I’ve got last semester’s schedule written here—not this one’s. But I do recall receiving an email from somebody mentioning the class’s location, so I can check on that—but it will have to be on my laptop, since I can’t access that particular account on my phone. My room isn’t far from here—it’s in a large building just down the street. I enter and make my way up to my room. It’s a tiny room, and unlike anywhere I’ve actually lived, but it all seems familiar and somehow pleasant. I put what seems to be my cast-iron shrine teapot on a hotplate on the top of a small, precarious-looking shelf to one side of my desk to boil water for coffee and sit down to find the email. According to the email, the class is taking place at St. John’s Observatory—so not on campus, then, since I would have seen it if it were. I pull up a map website to find out where it is. To my own amusement, I initially mistype "Kassel"—the place I have apparently decided I am—as "Kessel" (kettle, that is). Based on the pictures my search has turned up, the place I’m going to is a greenhouse as well as an observatory: it’s a small building with mostly glass walls, through which greenery can be seen. I’m not sure where it is relative to me just yet, though, and it’s now 17:00, when the class was supposed to begin. Maybe that won’t matter so much on the first day? But then it occurs to me: I’m in Germany. Akademisches Viertel. That means I still have time to get there.
I was convicted of a sex crime and dealt 3 weeks in prison based on flimsy charges and an unfair trial (Just a dream, nothing like this happened irl). The dream started right as I arrived at my cell. My mother was tearfully accompanying me to my cell and she lingered for a bit before the staff made her leave. It wasn't really a prison, and it wasn't really a jail. It looked and felt more like a mental institution to me. My cell was located right behind the front office of the building, behind a bulletproof glass and the front desk employee. The cell was fairly large, with an open door to the other cells, a bathtub, and a chair. Quite unusual indeed. The floors were carpet and the only wall was padded. The was a few children in the area, as well as a few elderly folk, and one or two people in their forties who seemed to be checked out of reality. The kids were playing, the old folk were chatting away as old friends, and I was sitting in a chair moping about how unfair the trial was, and how I didn't even get to change my clothes. I was only going to be here for 3 weeks, but I so didn't deserve to be here. I thought I'd focus on my dreams during this time and dream of the freedom that was soon to come. A few days passed, and a good friend of mine decided to visit. I don't know him in my waking life, but we sure knew each other in this dream. He was a black man with a goatee and dreadlocks. He was very kind and honest, and he had a passion for music. He agreed that the trial was not just, and he wanted me to know it by singing me a song he had written about me. He started with some beatboxing, and I tried to talk him out of it. His singing would surely get the two of us in trouble for disturbing the environment. As he started the song I stopped protesting. He sang a familiar tune, but it is not one I recognize whilst awake. However, he had the words changed to reflect my situation and used my name in the chorus, so that was neat. As expected though, he did get caught and was evicted by the staff. He was banned from the building for a total of 3 weeks plus fines for "damages" and "crimes." I reflected on what had happened, while sitting again in my chair moping about my life (how depressing..). Those aforementioned kids mentioned earlier started taking and playing with some toys I had sitting on a table in front of me. I protested at first, but then realized I really didn't need them anymore and I let them have the toys. Fast forward to an evening that I am not sure is that one or a later one. I was alone in my cell. Everyone else was asleep, nobody was near. I was soaking in the bathtub still in my clothes. The water was draining, and I looked to my right to see my dog lying next to the tub. I thought it quite peculiar that they let me have my dog with me in prison. The tub then changed appearance. The side of the tub became the back of a sofa. The dog had then gotten soaked by the draining water from the tub, and then made a scene that caused the staff to come check out what was going on. I was afraid my dog had caused me to get a longer sentence, but after some explaining they seemed to buy the idea that it wasn't my fault. Fast forward to the next morning, where my dogs were no longer present and a nurse brought me a small bowl. I first thought it was a bowl full of meds that was being passed to everyone, but before I could really question it the nurse stuck something in my mouth and pressed it against my gums. It had a very distinct taste. I asked the nurse what it was, and what purpose it served as I tried to keep it pressed against my gums. She said it was just a ginger lolipop to act as a breath mint since my breath really smelled...I knew the taste was familiar! I didn't protest to the bad breath and explained to her my poor dental hygiene is an issue that builds on itself. If you aren't in the habit, then your teeth start to rot, then it hurts to get in the habit until you get the teeth worked on, which in turn hurts and costs money, etc. The scene shifted to another evening. It shouldn't be long now before my sentence would be over I thought, as I sought out a bathroom to relieve myself. The other prisoners, or patients as it seemed, were all getting ready for a dinner that was being served in the other room. The thought came across my mind that maybe my sentence was not 3 weeks and maybe this wasn't a prison at all. Maybe it really was a psych ward and I would be trapped here for the foreseeable future. I quickly dismissed the thought until I heard a ruckus from the other room. There was a discussion on television between Billy Graham and another person of importance about my particular situation. It got quite heated and very political, and somehow it escalated all the way to the United Nations. I walked out of the bathroom and when I went outside it was a different building I was in. There was 3 stories and it was very open with many windows. I took a seat at a long conference table as I listened to those in the room discussing the situation. The original patients were all gone now, and I was surrounded by people in business suits. Someone had declared that this issue was to be taken seriously, and to defend against those who would argue in the negative. A group of assassins entered the building and I associated them with the group Talon from Overwatch. A fight broke out and I saw a massive Roadhog appear by me to protect me. He had to have been at least 8 feet in stature, and very wide. He was so realistic I was paralyzed in awe. He used his hook to grab hold of an enemy and I woke up.
I'm lying in the middle of a dark room, trying to sleep. But it’s not very comfortable there since I don’t have a pillow or blankets or anything else except the (possibly carpeted) floor. As I lie there, a piece of music comes into my mind—“Night on Bald Mountain.” It’s not as if I’m thinking of it: rather it’s as if it’s pushing all the other thoughts out of my head until it’s the only thing there, even though it's clearly in my head and not actually playing. It plays for a few bars, and then, just as the horn blasts the first note of the melody, I hear a loud crash from outside. A jolt of alarm—but it lasts only for a moment. The noise I heard sounds just like the falling branch did a couple weeks ago, when the winds came through, and it seems likely to me that that’s what happened now. But I reflect that that was odd, about it matching the melody—almost as if, on some level, I knew the crash was going to happen in advance. I’m not sure what series of events came in between this and the next dream I can remember clearly, but my memory picks up shortly after attaining lucidity somehow. I step through a door out into a hallway—tile floors, completely bare, and several wooden doors, including one with a window in it at the end of the hall. Through the window, I can see some sort of colorful projection on the wall, like a screen. I head towards it and open the door. The room turns out to be a mid-sized lecture hall, with the seats and desks in a semicircular amphitheater arrangement. A few students are scattered throughout, and although there doesn’t seem to be a teacher here, a PowerPoint presentation is going. It seems to be a presentation on poetry. An idea occurs to me: I’ll write down what I see and then try to record as much of it as I can in my dream journal once I’m awake. Granted, most of it looks like the sort of word salad you might except the subconscious mind on autopilot to kick out, but it could still be interesting. I forage around for something to write on but turn up with nothing but a pencil and some kind of treated animal skin, which is pretty far from ideal, but I figure I can try writing on the leathery side. I slip into a seat in the back row and start taking notes. I have a good half “page” or so written by the time I wake up—with no warning, as usual. But I find I can’t remember any of it—not even the one line that actually seemed striking to me as I was recording it. The only thing I can remember from the whole presentation was the centipug (to give an appropriate name to it)—the clipart-ish picture of a pug with many sets of legs that was at the bottom of one of the slides. Funny how that works. 13.3.18
My morning dream was sort of stressful. In the dream I had to keep waking up for class. Originally, I had to wake up pretty early at around 5am or so. I was at my high school or middle school (i think they were combined in the dream) in the gym area. Attached to the gym area was a bedroom that I was staying in. It was very similar to my IRL bedroom. I was in and out of it going outside and seeing a lot of traffic on the road in front of the school. In my room, I was talking to my friend Sam h about something. My room was very large and open. There were these metal beams high up in the room. There were these steps in the top left corner of the room that led up to a window showing white light. My friend Mason was also hitting me up on my phone, texting me something like "I doubt you're awake but..." and I responded telling him that I had been awake for a long time for something. He suggests we go to McDonald's for breakfast though I don't think we got there. There was a room in the gym that had bunk beds. I was laying in the top of one and he was poking me in my leg which was disturbing. He was with this girl krista w. from my school. They were being very obnoxious together. My nap dream was a little strange. I was at my buddy Moo's parents house. He nor his parents were home yet, I was the only one there. The idea was they were going to come home. I also had the idea that I was stoned. I was in the upstairs part of his house which looked like a kitchen where his dad's room was. I was jumping and rolling around the kitchen, bouncing off the ground. It seemed I was also in my guild voice chat and one guy was quitting for some reason. I was just listening along. Eventually, I was alone lying on the ground when I was frozen. They have two weiner dogs IRL so I had my eyes closed but could feel the dogs jumping and licking on me as I was on the floor. Moo and his mom come in and we talk. At some point I'm in his game room and there's this large bed on there. My head was facing the front of the house as I was lying on the bed. Then, I was shocked frozen. My eyes were open but I could not move a single muscle. It seemed there was this powerful energy in the room. This sounds weird, but it looked like a girl but in my mind it had no gender. It was standing to the right of the bed.
I can’t remember how the dream began, which means that I can’t be sure whether I had realized I was dreaming and decided to fly around for a while or whether I had somehow realized that I could fly and stabilize my surroundings but not the full implications of it. But either way, that’s what I ended up doing. It seems to be early evening, and I’m on a street where all the buildings are lit up with small, multicolored lights. The street is steep and winding—a little reminiscent of Nerudova Street in its topography and architecture—and it has a vibrant and exciting atmosphere, as if it’s a Saturday night and this is the place to go on a Saturday night. (Click to enlarge (because I can't figure out how to make it bigger here)) I fly all the way up the street and then turn around and fly back down again. But it doesn’t feel quite as real as I know it could be. I focus harder, and I imagine hearing music as I fly along, and that seems to help—this time, it feels as if I’m actually there. I fly back again, and this time I try it while spinning around—something I’ve never done before. It turns out to be a lot of fun, seeing the ground change places with the sky. Sometime later—in another dream, probably—I'm on a bus on some kind of a trip. I’m with a large group—many young children, some teenagers and a couple adults. There are also some children and teens there who are exchange students from another country. I have the impression this is a trip for the kids, and the teens and I—not sure of my age in the dream—are there to help out with it. At some point, we make a stop at a large grocery store—the sort that’s often still open in the middle of the night, which it seems to be now. A group of us, including me, goes in. But a woman—maybe the person in charge—asks me if I could take the dog outside for a bit so she can have a chance to burn off some energy before we’re back on the bus. She has the dog there—a big, black dog, female, I think. I agree to it. Once in front of the store, the dog goes sprinting off in a big loop, eventually coming back around to me. She immediately runs off again, and this time she returns carrying a stick in her mouth. Looks like we’re going to be playing fetch. But just then, I hear barking coming off from to my left. Two smaller dogs are there—neither one on a leash, I note—and the one that looks like a half-size pit bull is barking up a storm. I am instantly on alert: I have seen scenarios like this one end with furniture being toppled. But the black dog is not acting threatened or aggressive, and so it seems unlikely that a fight’s going to break out. I have a vague impression of the dogs’ owner nearby—but just then, my alarm wakes me. 8.2.18
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