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I don't recall much except that I became lucid in a dream. I don't know much about what happened prior to that, just that all DCs ceased motion once I tried to stabilize my dream, and that there was a big fat man next to me. I woke up.

Morning of December 26, 2013. Thursday.



In my dream, I am in an unfamiliar garage in Wisconsin, it seems, although my wife Zsuzsanna is with me. There is a tall, thin stack of smaller boxes of books that falls over without causing any damage. We seem to be moving a few things around. I notice a heavyset man staring at me from the opening to the garage (the opening apparently to the east). He walks into the garage and stares at me intently, looking into my eyes.

“Why are you an alien?” he says in a way almost implying cross-examination. He seems to have a special gift to see the “different wiring” within my physical nature and brain design - something people usually seem to sense but do not comment on, or maybe they recognize that I am only pretending to understand what people are saying to avoid confrontation.

“Because I am not you and am not like you,” I say calmly, but in a slightly patronizing way. I do not like him at all and do not look away from his intense and unduly patronizing gaze. He seems to be of the conspiracy-theorist “everything is doom or devils or aliens” mentality; the type who spends time considering all manner of fictional systems and completely unfeasible potential of the countless fraudulent “lunatic fringe” websites. (I recall a small plastic “device” from a New Age magazine years ago which I got just to see what it really was. It was supposedly designed to improve health by having some sort of “protective field” move out from the wearer’s body. When I took it apart, I saw that all it was was a small circuit-board in which the sole function was to make the small light flash on and off. Hilariously stupid.)

The chubby unknown male soon attacks me physically but I grab him and stretch him out somehow until all that is left of him is his belt. I go to the garage entrance and throw this belt out into the alley as two girls are walking by, heading north (I believe we are at the north-side of La Crosse). He somehow screams for help (as a belt, but changing form a bit, including a brief period as a rattlesnake) but they do not notice. Eventually, he is able to “regenerate” himself, but is more overweight than before and dressed in mismatched clothes, some of them women’s clothes - in about three layers. He is also wearing a periwig and starts yelling about aliens again, while shaking a golf club at me. I also notice, at this point, he is about a foot shorter than before.

I tell him sternly and very seriously, “the fact that people like you are allowed to run around promoting false systems and false ideologies and leading other people astray is proof enough that humans are not fit to occupy this planet”. (By that, I seem to be perhaps illogically inferring that both the con artists and the victims are “unfit”.) From here I wake.

This was my first encounter with a hostile, physically violent DC. Great learning experience, I think. I also wound up giving an LD mini-seminar in dream, which was interesting to say the least!

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #18: DC Wants a Piece of Me

I hurry into a grocery store to pick up some items, passing my friend R on the way in. (The only IWL friend I have that regularly LDs.) I say hey and we catch up about the time he's been spending in Seoul, South Korea. I'm in a hurry so I tell him I have to run.

As he's leaving, I call back to him and ask, "R, what city are we in right now?" He thinks for a moment and then says that he doesn't know. How can we both not know? Something's off. "Buddy, aren't you supposed to be in Seoul? I've never been to Seoul." We agree that it's strange neither of us know where we are and I realize that I'm dreaming. "I figured out what's going on, R. I'm dreaming. Well, one of us is, I guess. Probably me." He congratulates me and agrees that it's "probably" me having the LD and not him. I clap him on the shoulder and head into the store.

I walk through a set of automatic doors and casually explore the store, taking my time marveling at the items on the shelves, the level of detail, and the sheer number of dream characters buying food for the week. I spend several minutes just enjoying the people and texture in the place. One DC, a bulky man in a football jersey and baseball cap, gives me a slightly unfriendly look, but I ignore him.

A more serious confrontation is next. I'm approaching the frozen foods section when a fat, enormously tall man locks eyes with me. His many chins quake with rage and his fists are balled up for a fight. The huge man strides toward me, flaring out his arms like an obese grizzly bear. I hear him grinding his teeth. The sound is awful, like ice cubes being crushed against one another.

My own temper starts to smolder but I catch myself and say, "Wait. You're not upset with me. You're angry about something else. What can I do to help you?" He stops and drops his arms to his side, mouth hanging open in surprise. Sheepishly, he says, "Drumstick." I point to one of the cases in the freezer aisle and it begins to give off a warm glow. "The ice cream's in there," I tell him. "I made this place. That means it's my fault it didn't have what you needed. I'm sorry for your trouble." He smiles broadly and waves, turning toward the ice cream.

I walk further down the freezer aisle, studying the ice cream and shelves full of frozen dinners. (My subconscious seems to mostly produce lasagna and meatloaf.) At the end of the aisle, I come to a door that leads into a hotel banquet hall with a view high above the city. (What city? Still don't know.)

I'm barging in on some sort of convention and the well-dressed DCs act shocked to see me. They protest at first but I inform them that all of this is my lucid dream, so they'll just have to be patient until I'm through. They become very interested, peppering me with questions. A small crowd of well-dressed young professionals gathers around me, asking me why I keep rubbing my hands together and prodding at my arms. I explain a bunch of LD concepts to them, starting with stabilization, going through how I enter an LD, etc. None of it feels like a waste of time. If these DCs represent some part of myself, what could be better than reviewing the basics?

I tell them that I have to find the Cretaceous sea. I hold my hands out and will the Cretaceous sea to illuminate. A chunk of the horizon starts giving off a warm glow (just like the ice cream!) I try to push through the window, which fails, and then try to punch it. It acts like plexiglas, wobbling and vibrating but refusing to break. I finally grab a chair and knock out a smaller panel.

I squeeze myself through to the outside of the building. The wind is fierce, tugging at my clothes, and the ground looks far, far away. I cling to the building, suddenly more afraid than I was prepared to be. I start to calm myself but it's too late -- I'm awake.

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