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non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid FA / AP

With mom inside some big building with a glass façade. Looks like an airport in the 50s or 60s, but I think we are waiting for some doctor appointment. A noisy fighter jet flies over the building, narrowly missing it. It's clearly not from our country. Then we see lots of smoke and everybody wonders if it crashed nearby. Then an helicopter lands right outside and some military come out of it. People rush out to ask stuff, but they are elusive. Rumors spread that the jet was russian. Nobody knows if the pilot died or was caught. The military then tell people to go home and that war was declared. I guess they mean WW3 is official. We go inside the waiting room, because we wanna know more and there are 3 tvs, so we expect to see something in the news.
Some idiot distract us all with a silly stunt in the lobby, climbing on top of the staircase rails and threathening to jump like 2 floors. Security guards come from all directions to grab him and people applaud, but he gives up and jumps to safety. In the waiting room again, some black lady instructs me to put on channel 95 where supposedly is CNN. I try, but the channel doesn't match with what she says. I finally find it and one reporter is clearly in distress while another is in sheer terror, sweating profusely. They say the news is absolutely shockcing and scary. And end of the world scenario. But then it has nothing to do with WW3. Instead they mention some earthquake swarm and volcanos erupting in Brazil and that due to the tectonic plate movements, all the energy from the movements there is expected to be transmitted and affect the whole of Europe. They show a map with volcanos popping up all throughout Central Europe and fires everywhere. They say it is unpredictable where it will hit, but Switzerland will be the worst hit. My mom asks me if it is dangerous to us. I say we can't be sure, since it is likely that a huge quake hits Lisbon and the Tagus faultline. I tell her from now on we need to be alert at all times, study our surroundings and check if there are any safer places around us if we are hit by a quake.
Then we are at a very old café in an old town and I see cracks all over the walls. I tell her it isn't safe to stay here, so we go outside as soon as we can and tell her to also look for open spaces outside. Then I recall I need to go back inside and pay for our drinks. Meanwhile she is looking at a street market and she is really interested in something, but I tell her not to go there until I come back.

Watching some story like a movie. A lady who is dying with a terminal cancer wants to sing one last time to an audience, so she goes see her former agent, accompanied by her lover. Her agent had stopped working with her because she meant troubles and his company was going through financial difficulties. Her lover advocates for her. Makes some promise to bring lots of people for some jazz nights at his derelict building, if he allows her to sing. He agrees.

Then I am her and I am leaving the place. I am walking the streets of Lisbon and doing some artistic performance as I walk. I stamp red flowers on my skirt and also on walls and roads for some reason. The kids enjoy and are curious, but the adults not so much. Some woman makes a comment that I am vandalized a house. I don't care. I am on my way to the botanical garden, but I am a bit lost. I look for the closest metro station to check where I am and maybe take a ride. I find one, but not sure how to gro from here to the garden, so I check a map on my phone. At least I know now where I am. On my way there, I meet an older guy, a very tall slender guy, and for some reason we start talking about miracles and odd stuff. He asks me about my beliefs and I try to explain I don't believe as much as I accept possibilities. I explain my view on how we interpret the outliers of reality and we call it paranormal when they are just outliers within the curve of possibilities of reality. Then tell him about how my brain could not recognize the sounds of foxes the first time I heard it on a camping trip and therefore my brain filled in the blanks and made it sound like dolphins. Therefore hearing dolphins around me on a mountain could only be supernatural, but turns out it was my perception which wasn't equiped to see the natural phenomena for what it was. He agrees and tells me a story of how he was blind for many many years and for no apparent reason one day symply regained his sight and everyone considered it a miracle. He believes it was a natural recovery of his organism, which appears as a miracle because it is a rare event. We get out of the subway and we continue walking towards the garden.

Finally broke that dry spell! This was a really fun one. Emotions got the best of me at the end, but it was great while it lasted.

Color legend: Non-dream Dream Lucid

Lucid #113: Woodrow the Giant

I'm in a first-person shooter video game where I'm entering an airport. One of the people I'm with slips some kind of blaster into my pocket as we're walking through airport security. Won't that set off the metal detectors? I think of all this as just a game, though, so I give it a try.

An alarm sounds, surprisingly soft but unmistakable. I keep walking, just in case they think it was someone else behind me. As I head into a broad, bustling concourse, I see a few security guys heading toward me from different directions. They're dressed in plain clothes, which makes them seem less official and more menacing. I change directions and they change with me. I know I'm caught. One guy has his hand on his right hip like he's ready to pull a gun, so I decide to be first. I pull the banana-shaped blaster out of my jacket pocket and start shooting. My first shot catches the guy right in the chest and he crumples to the floor.

I immediately realize that this isn't a video game, but a dream. I remember goals: meet Art at the Alamo and Tasks of the Month. Since this is already a video game scenario, I think that it'll be easy to pull Art in. "[NewArtemis], I know you're right there behind me." No response. By now the other security guys have drawn their guns, although they oddly have not fired yet.

I shoot one more of them and he collapses to the ground. Still, nobody returns fire. "[NewArtemis], a little help!" A woman walking nearby turns around. She's wearing jeans and has dirty blonde hair, not at all the usual hair color for Art's DC, but it's definitely her!

"Hey there!" I say, thinking that it'll be fun to have her take care of the last of these security guys. But when I look for them, they're gone -- everyone is walking through the airport concourse like nothing has happened. I turn back to Art. "You dyed your hair...?" I half-comment, half-ask. (I sincerely doubt this.)

"Hey," she says, with a wry half-smile, ignoring the whole hair thing.

We hug and I say, "Okay, that's Basic. You feel like punching Woodrow Wilson?" (Advanced Task of the Month.)

She nods. "I'd love to punch that guy." (We have never discussed Woodrow Wilson, so I'm likely projecting here.)

I glance around for Wilson. "Let's do it," I say to Art, and then call out to the crowd: "Woodrow Wilson! I know you're here!" We walk along the concourse for perhaps twenty feet when I spot a huge man to our left. Somehow, even with everything around him brightly lit, he's hidden in shadow. The man is at least ten feet tall, probably closer to twelve, and he's flanked by two normal-sized men who don't look like they're doing anything in particular.

"Is that you, Woodrow Wilson?" As soon as I say this, the man's face is illuminated and it's definitely Wilson -- long, expressionless face, glasses, the whole bit. Weirdly, he's dressed in the style of a Catholic priest with a cassock and clerical collar. He strides toward us quickly and moves up very close to crowd me.

Wilson doesn't attack but just stands there towering over me, no expression on his face, his eyes unfocused. I've lost some emotional control and I'm starting to feel fearful. Art circles around on my right, grimacing a little, her hands balled into fists. She can help me, but I know that for Task I know that I need to hit the guy. I try to calm myself down while imagining myself leaping up and doing some kind of superman punch. I'm freaking out a little bit, though, and the dream falls apart.

Date: 08-11-10
Length: 5 Minutes
Vividness: 6/10

This dream was taking place in 3rd Person point of view, as if it were a movie.

There was a man and his girlfriend living in a motel/shack type of house on the harbor, literally hanging over the water.
The man hated the place.
He went on about how it was too small, his head would touch the roof when he was standing on the patio.

One day, a man pulled in.
He told the man living there about this woman name Eloise, I believe she was his mother, yet also related to his girlfriend in some way.

-frenchblablabla