Thread: LiveInTheDream's Public Dream Journal

That time slowdown thing is a realy good idea. You could always have as much time to lucid as you want if you just make time perseption about 4 times faster. I'll do that next time I have a full lucid.

Originally Posted by MadMonkey

That time slowdown thing is a realy good idea. You could always have as much time to lucid as you want if you just make time perseption about 4 times faster.

My thoughts exactly. Hope it works for ya! I'd be interested to hear how it goes

Once again, it's been far too long since I last put an entry in here. I'll try to start updating more frequently again, but...no promises

I seem to have developed a weird mental block about lucid dreams. You may remember my post about how we can become unsuccessful with lucid dreams simply because we subconsciously believe them to be difficult. Since this realization, my amount of naturally-occurring lucid dreams has sky-rocketed to nearly 100% of all recent lucid dreams...but I haven't had as many lucid dreams what with not putting a lot of work into a particular method, so that percentage is really not so impressive as it may initially seem.

The problem is, I'll find myself thinking with two minds in a dream. There's my 'dream mind' which is caught up with the bizarre events of the dream story, and there's my subconscious mind that clearly realizes I'm dreaming, but due to being asleep, illogically thinks: "Oh, I'm dreaming! Too bad this isn't a lucid dream..." often resulting in a dream where I have all the powers of lucidity and I understand that I cannot be hurt and things like that, but without really ever understanding why.

It's starting to become quite annoying. If I could get myself to make the right conclusion at the moment I realize I'm non-lucid dreaming, I seriously could have multiple LDs every night without putting any more effort into it than simply reminding myself about it before I go to sleep!

Anyway, I guess fixing that starts with maintaining good dream recall, so here's what I remember of last night's dream:

I was in some party house, and I was preparing (you guessed it) a party. The interior of the place resembled my real house in layout, but everything about the rooms was vastly different. All the walls and many ceilings and floors were painted black, with brightly-colored symbols and images painted on top in random places. Under a black light, they looked quite cool.

At first, everything was going smoothly. I got disco balls and club lights mounted, music started playing, food and drinks set out...and then at one moment, I slipped on a ladder and caught the palm of my right hand on a sharp point as I fell.

When I looked at the damage, my entire palm had been split, and now my thumb and a large piece of skin from my hand were dangling loose, nearly to fall off at any moment. With my other hand, I tried to pull everything back together, but multiple attempts proved unsuccessful for one reason or another. My first try, I managed to get the skin lined up correctly, but I hadn't fit my thumb bones back into their place properly, so my actual thumb was hollow and the bones for it were being pinned down beneath the skin of my palm.

I tried pulling the skin back then, which hurt like crazy, but I knew it had to be done, else I'd be without a functioning thumb. I slid the bones and muscles back inside the hollow skin of the thumb and then tried replacing the skin. For some reason I had difficulty lining it back up this time, and so it pulled too far, squishing my entire hand together into a shape much thinner than it should be.

Finally, one of my friends arrived and saw the trouble. The solution we ended up with was that I would get the skin into place, and then hold it there while my friend wrapped tape around it to hold things together long enough for me to see a doctor. It seemed to work.

"It's too bad this dream isn't a lucid dream." I said to myself.

The party went on, but the pain in my hand increased, and eventually the tape wouldn't hold any more, giving me the same issue as before with my thumb potentially falling off. At one point, the pain grew so intense that I collapsed on the ground. That sure didn't help anything! I landed wrong, which made the bones and muscles in my thumb rip right through the skin, making things worse than ever before. I rolled over, writhing in pain, and grabbed my hand, now awake IRL.

Strangely enough, it did hurt around my palm and thumb. Not sure why. But of course it wasn't cut open and about to fall off

A friend of mine was dead.

That's what the phone call that started it all was about. Of course I rushed to the scene of the crime as soon as I could so as to learn more about what happened, but it honestly didn't do me much good. All anyone knew for sure was that one moment my friend was alive and well and the next he was laying in a pool of blood, several knife wounds all over his body.

No one ever saw the killer. He didn't even leave fingerprints behind, so there was no good way to track him down, either. This, of course, made the last person to see my friend the primary suspect: Zachary Quinto. He was literally dragged to the scene of the crime and the police attempted to identify any sort of evidence with him.

They discovered the cuts on my friend's body matched the width and length of a knife owned by Mr. Quinto, but when they produced said knife, Zach didn't seem to recognize it. He didn't appear to be bluffing, either; he was genuinely shocked that a long, brown knife had been discovered on the floor of his home, caked in blood.

Quinto was promptly arrested, and I was asked to leave while further investigation was carried out. I was by no means satisfied, though. The next day I paid a visit to the police office to inquire about their discoveries. They told me that evidence against Quinto was insufficient and they would be letting him go later on that day, and also that the knife they found belonged to a mysterious killer known only by the alias "Knife-baby". The killer's targets seemed random; just whoever was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And this time, chance had it so that the Knife-baby killer's choice was personal.

I set out on a quest to find out just who this murderer was and bring them down myself, or otherwise set them up for arrest. It didn't take long before I met up with Quinto, who was planning to do the same thing in order to clear his own name.

We went all over the globe together, following the tiniest and most confusing trails of clues, hoping that sooner or later we'd find our guy. Sadly, the biggest help we got was the frequent news reports of the Knife-baby killer's latest victims. After enough people had been killed, we were able to line up their locations on a map like a 'connect the dots' picture and plot a line to predict where the killer would be next. The location? A research building in the Amazon jungle.

Quinto and I approached the building from a ways off, not wanting to alert anyone of our presence by the sound of a vehicle. After hacking through security at the back door, we began to make our way through the hallway, keeping our eyes peeled in all possible directions.

Suddenly, all went black. I heard a noise like a muffled explosion followed by the feedback of a thousand echoes. It hurt my ears, so I put my hands over them while crying out in pain...and as I fell to my knees, the light came back on, and I was on my knees before the dead body of a scientist who worked in the facility. Blood was everywhere, and knife wounds were clearly visible in the corpse's back. It was then that I noticed my hands were wet, so I pulled them down, away from my ears, and was horrified to see that my own hands were also caked with blood, and I held a long, brown knife in my right hand.

Quinto was unharmed, but backed up against the wall, and breathing hard. He was clearly freaked out by the whole thing. When he got his breath back, he stared at the body, and at me.

"You...you...you're the Knife-baby killer!" He said angrily, charging at me and pinning me up against the wall.

"What? Think about what you're saying! Why would I have killed my own friend, framed you, and then come all this way with you just so I could turn around and show you that I was the one all along? Do you really think I'm that stupid?" I replied.

Quinto let go and backed off, huffing with frustration that we'd missed the killer again.

"So how does this work?" He asked. "Does the killer ever actually kill anyone? Or does he just use us as proxies?"

"Wait a minute, so you're saying you did kill my friend?"

"You know that's not true! I saw what you just saw! Blackness, then that noise, then a dead body sitting at my feet, and a long brown knife and blood in my hands. But I got rid of the knife; I got rid of the knife!! The killer obviously wanted me to be framed...that's why he put the knife back in my house! And now he wants you as well. Maybe that's how he handles people who have leads on his location. Puts them in prison by false accusation."

"Then let's follow him, before he gets away!"

We turned back to the door we'd come in, and found it still wide open. There was a moment of self-hatred, thinking we'd just created the killer's escape route. That was the final straw. We charged outside just in time to see a black figure running into another building a short ways away.

"There he is!" Quinto pointed.

The chase was on! We smashed through the door to the building and kept running, absolutely determined not to let this guy get away. We were gaining on the figure, who was still black as a shadow even up close, and then we followed him around a corner...only to hear a scream and see the Knife-baby killer throwing himself over us, knocking us both to the ground.

When I got up, I was no longer in the building, Quinto was no longer there, and the Knife-baby killer was completely out of my memory. The dream continued on as a rather typical false-awakening.

Still no lucid dream, but it's cool non-lucids like this that make me not mind so much