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Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #249: Long Shot

I’m hanging out with Dreamer in a sparsely-decorated apartment. She’s wearing a dark jumper with the hood pulled up over her head. We’re joking around and coming up with silly games and dares. Dreamer comes up with a really really crazy one that gets us laughing. Warning: It is pretty gross!

Spoiler for Very gross dare -- not for the squeamish!:

I’m talking to Dreamer about how I’ve got some kind of pimple on the right side of my nose. (True IWL! ) Dreamer says hey, she’s got one too and that we should have a contest where each of us pops our pimple and sees who can shoot their pimple juice the farthest.

We laugh and laugh about this and finally decide to do it. We worry about what happens if the other person’s aim is bad and we accidentally pimple-juice each other. To help with this, I find a huge sheet of plexiglass for each of us to hide behind while the other person goes. As I’m setting the plexiglass up, the idea of the dare is so unbelievably disgusting that...

... I become lucid. I feel sleepy and out if it, and I tell Dreamer that I’m really happy to have become lucid so soon after going to sleep, but that I feel really groggy. We both stand up and Dreamer is super tall, easily 7 feet. We talk for a bit, my brain moving slowly during the conversation. Her accent is entirely American during the conversation, which strikes me as one of those strange details that I figure will work itself out.

I finally remember my intent to do the “play a musical instrument that doesn’t exist in waking life” task and ask Dreamer if she has an instrument for me. She says, “Well, I have this violin!” She produces a violin from out of nowhere and somehow plays a few notes with no bow. Now she plucks 3 notes pizzicato.

I tell her that this is cool but that we need to have an instrument that doesn’t exist in waking life. I know that I should be able to flow into the task from here but I feel really slow-witted. I get a little confused what to do next, and Dreamer walks up to me (still enormously tall) and wraps me in a hug. Since I don’t know what to do anyway, I just stay still for a moment and enjoy this. After a bit, I get the sensation of falling asleep, and …

… I emerge in a false awakening in the same room. Dreamer isn’t here, but I have a vision of her sitting on the edge of a table with a model train set on it. In this mental image she’s wearing the same trackies and dark jumper from the previous part of the dream, but now she seems to be her normal height. I wander around the apartment, eventually finding the table, but Dreamer isn’t there. The dream ends fairly quickly after that.

I had three distinct dreams, each of which were very clear, but I forgot good chunks of all of them (and the first one entirely):

[Dream Two - 5:30 AM]

- I was in my office at work, and my sister comes by. Together we go to the store where I buy cereal and possibly poptarts.
- A girl was blowing this guy, commenting on how bad his penis tasted. There was also some hinting she was 16, and the creator of the video had to perform some photoshop or something to make her look older.
- I'm squeezing a pimple on my nose, and a giant log comes out of my nose instead. I was scared for a little bit that part of my brain fell out. I squeezed another pimple, and a stream of metallic beads came out, clattering on the sink, and sliding down the drain.

[Dream Three - 7:00 AM]

I was at the bus stop with my sister and one of my childhood friends, #72-. At one point I go across the street to use the bathroom, where a phone was hanging on the wall and started ringing. I answer, commenting how it was stupid to be calling here. I go back to the stop, and do some one-arm pull-ups on the bus stop structure. Later the three of us decide to just walk, but then the bus comes by and turns the corner. I run over there with them, but realize I left my backpack at the stop. At this point I notice I'm wearing pajamas on my bottom half. I grab my bag, and make it to the bus, where a retarded kid was licking the tire. Getting on, I noticed it was fairly empty, and took the seat in front of my sister. We drive by #5121-820, who is with four girls, including #521-0 and starts waving at us. An announcer, possibly my father, comments on how #5121-820 was "getting big." I later see HorseLime's mother, who drives me the rest of the way to school.

I am visiting my friend T's house, which is way too sitcom-looking. In this world, he is apparently a costumed superhero, and he is freaking out because he thinks someone will discover his secret identity (Paranoia is definitely his thing in real life). So we go through his house to process "evidence" of his secret life:

• First bit of evidence is, somehow, leftover meat in a casserole dish (lol, what?), which my advice is to not leave that shit out or it'll spoil. That settles T down a little.
• Second bit of evidence is a board game that's titled something ridiculous like "I'm Secretly a Crime Fighter" (lolol, whaaat?), in which Dream Me rationalizes something like owning a Monopoly board doesn't make me a tycoon. Wise words, Dream Me. Wise words.
• Third piece of evidence is the severed human head of a criminal he has in his freezer (lolololol, wh-- *record scratch* wait, what?). Apparently, Dream Me already knows about this; as T is opening up his freezer, I tell him I don't need to see it, just don't keep it in your freezer anymore. I also Dream Know that T kept the head in a plastic bag.

So now, my subconscious gets a conscience (ha! ...too soon after talking about freezer remains. I got ahead of myself), and it took form of an argument between Cartman and Kyle Broflovski about morals.

Then shit got REALLY weird.

My view zooms in to Kyle's face, to the point I can see the individual pimples. The pimples, who talk in Al Gore voice, are conferring with one another to stop their host body because his morals are being swayed. So now, the pimple choose to infiltate Kyle's mind, which resembles a blue room with a computer on the floor.

Two pimple-people (hehe), a male and female dressed in tight black outfits and harnesses like rejects from a Mission Impossible remake, has snuck in, and are attempting to upload a virus into the computer/Kyle's mind. But Kyle's consciousness materializes inside himself to stop them; first, he stomps on the head of the pimple-man (symbolism alert -- also, what is up with me and head violence that night?), then pokes a hole with his fingers in the pimple-woman's side, causing her to deflate like a balloon before she could hit the "Enter" key. Mind-Kyle looks over her while she says something to appeal to him -- it seems to work, because Kyle hits the "Enter" key himself to upload the virus. The dream fades before I can find out what happens next.

Note: There was, at one point in all this, a screen where I'm equipping items to slots like I'm playing an Flash RPG game, and having trouble deciding whether getting the bonus in X is better than the other. But I'm not sure/remember where THAT little scene fit in. I dream in video game way, way too much,

Original entry dated Feb. 18th, 2002:

I dreamed that I woke up and pressed my hand against my forehead. My skin was moving. You know how it feels when goldfish (or any other sort of fish, except for maybe piranhas and oscars) nibble at your fingers? It felt like that - all over my forehead - dozens of tiny moist nibbles.

I got up and looked in the mirror. My forehead was covered in dozens of tiny red... mouth-things... only without teeth. Moist, cherry-red little mouths, each about the size of a pimple, gapping open and closed and each of them making tiny peeping sounds like baby chicks. I couldn't stand looking at them, or bringing my hands anywhere near my face - I just wanted to gouge them off...
...I went to the doctor, and they were apparently some sort of parasitic infection. I learned that, unfortunately, it spread really fast and through skin-contact. There was only one way to treat them, too. The doctor had to inject each mouth - individually - with an antibiotic ointment. It wasn't so much painful as disgusting. When they died, they shriveled up and fell out in tiny brown balls, leaving dozens of tiny, deep holes in my forehead.

Original entry dated Feb. 19th, 2002:

Last night I had a dream that I visited a tribe in some sort of jungle-type place. One of the tribe elders had died and I came to attend the funeral. I believe I was an ex-member of the tribe, or else the daughter of an ex-tribe member. I know that I was blonde. I couldn't quite understand their customs, and was an outsider.

At one point, after the funeral, I wound up climbing a MASSIVE jungle tree to get a hibiscuslike red flower. I can't remember why. It was used in some sort of tribal medicine. I just remember that all of the colors in the dream were very, very vivid.