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This dream once again occurred this morning, 23 August 2012. It contained some brief moments of lucidity, and was interruped when I woke up around 6 am.

We begin in a university classroom, which for some reason looks very much like a classroom in a high school or elementary school. I'm sitting in for a social studies class, on the political history of the United States or something, and in contrast to my regular courses I don't find this interesting - I find it VERY interesting. Most of my friends in my program have already left. The teacher continues an explanation. By 11 am (or is it 1 pm?), I'll be beginning my first day in Physics class. My phone rings.

The person hanging out outside appears to be me, but I can't really identify with this person, so maybe it's my alter-ego. For sanity purposes, I'll refer to this individual in the first person.

I'm doing an extreme sports stunt on a bike, not a skateboard. The scene shifts toward somewhere else. Suddenly, the police catch us, and we're denied permission to enter my next class.

I don't want to go with the cops, I think. Yet my phone prompts me to, and I enter the principal's office.

Somewhere along the line, I'm walking in a hallway on campus in what seems to be a big environment building. I suddenly realize that I'm dreaming, and begin to look around at the walls, the windows, and the students.

I drift in and out of consciousness, of sleep. The waking-life version of myself seems to be paralyzed, so I drift back into sleep, with much effort. The scene changes.

I'm in the principal's office, and a thought drifts into my mind. I think of writing these things down, to publish certain things on Twitter when I wake up, with codes B, C, and D. The D code refers to detention, while the B code is something later on in the alphabet. The D code says to the teacher:

"Am I in detention, or am I free to go?"

This is something that I picked up from a video showing how to deal with the police. Rule number one is be calm and don't be crass.

I'm given a list of options, from life in prison to one day free to whatever else. The best option, they say, is Baptism.

The official looks rather puzzled and pauses for a moment, but after a while says that I'm free to go. I remember the buildings on campus, but I never make it to my physics class.

At home, it seems that my dad has lesions on his neck, which look like cancerous lips protrouding from the base of the chin. We go to the doctor, and then suddenly I'm in this waiting room.

I remember a TV commercial about healthcare options. Even though I know trhat I'm lucid, I think it would be wrong to change the scenery while I'm walking through that hallway again. So I walk up to the reporter at the receptionist desk:

"Hi, I'm looking for healthcare options for my dad".

The reporter, who seems to be African-Canadian, shakes his head.

Flashback - in a dark cave dismantling something to the next level.

The doctor finds that the lesions are cancerous, but traditional chemotherapy would have done more harm than good. A new emerging field in medicine, nutshot oncology, has proven that these lesions are treatable by other methods.

Have a nice glass of glastnost!

Jail or Baptism?

On YouTube, the number of likes are hidden, but it's wavering around 50%. A certain scene is depicted, and the likes rise above the half-point mark when we win, and fall below when we lose. It shifts in a gyroscopic circular manner, like the Moon around the Earth around the Sun, and then the Moon will be flung away, pulling Earth-Moon out of its orbit.

"But the Moon has been around for four billion years!"

In high school, I send some people an email with facial icons for each of their respective profiles. For some reason, the guys' images are larger. I tell him not to skip class.

In social studies class we talk about "nutshot porn". That's gross.

As I walk outside my residence room in the morning, it's chilly. Yet, for whatever reason, my sweater is wet and damp.

I wake up early to go swimming.

Wednesday, 3/21/12
DR 3:35
It's an post apocalyptic world. People live underground in old buildings, industrial like, big elevators. We finally find them. They clothes are torn and worn out. We joke, that everybody will want to be our friend now. I feel like we just came back from a successful mision. And really, they are offering us their coats - it's cold. But we don't take them. Someone gives us pieces of foam and strips of cloth and shows us a box with more. We are suppose to make shoes out of it.
DR
Outside of RD10. We look at the moon obscured by some kind of wapors, chem trails and we compare it with pictures. They match, but they are both wrong. I can tell, that what we see as face of the moon is something completely different. We remember, the moon used to look differently.
WBTB 3:35 - 4:20
Just reg. dreams, no recall

Tuesday, 3/20/12 bed at 12am, couldn't fall asleep for 1 ½ hrs.
DR 6am

WBTB 6 - 6:05 am ( I just read about CAT and WILD CAT on http://www.neurosoup.com/lucid_dreaming_main.htm, so I wanted to try it.

DILD/OBE? 9am
I'm in a class (looks like english class in Hotelka) with desks arranged in the rectangle. My friend Marcela Ch. is sitting next to me. I'm sleepy and as I realize I'm falling asleep, I tell her not to wake me up, I'll be dreaming (I remember slightly waking up to this and actually mouthing the words IWL).
I fall asleep and immediatelly starting to feel some motion sensations. I add rotating to it (axis is my torso) and I'm spinning quite fast. To this I say "I'm out" and I quickly rise up. I realize I'm dreaming and out. But I also notice that i didn't go far enough and get pulled right back. I wake up.

Wednesday, 3/21/12
DR 3:35
It's an post apocalyptic world. People live underground in old buildings, industrial like, big elevators. We finally find them. They close are torn and worn out. We joke, that everybody will want to be our friend now. I feel like we just came back from a successful mision. And really, they are offering us their coats - it's cold. But we don't take them. Someone gives us pieces of foam and strips of cloth and shows us a box with more. We are suppose to make shoes out of it.
DR
Outside of RD10. We look at the moon obscured by some kind of wapors, chem trails and we compare it with pictures. They match, but they are both wrong. I can tell, that what we see as face of the moon is something completely different. We remember, the moon used to look differently.
WBTB 3:35 - 4:20
Just reg. dreams, no recall

Sunday, March 12,2012

It's at night. I'm accross the street from my house in NZ. There is 2 more people with me. I look up at the sky and there is 4-5 small suns and also moons. The landscape of the Moon has shifted.

We decide to better go home, when we hear some heavy trucks turning corner at H. street. So we can't run accross the street. We hide, untill they pass. But the last 2 wehicles stop right by us. There are some tanks and troop transport trucks. We run by them and hope we make it before they disembark. Our heavy backpack are slowing us down. But the military are getting out of their trucks as we run by.

We still make it to my house. Close the entry door to the hallway and I'm locking it. But I already see one female alien in pink sweater approaching the door. I prop it with my foot. Someone else is running towards the house. We open the door to let him in. He trips and drops some groceries and jug of milk. No time to pick it up, because the alien is just rounding the corner. I feel like we should get the groceries, because we could be under siege for a while.

Then I'm in a gov. research facility. I have a feeling, our gov. is cooperating with aliens. I'm part of some underground movement. I see a full color flier with info, how something is making people sick on purpose. It's very detailed with pictures. Then an alien female researcher stands behind me and I have an uneasy feeling about it. I wake up.