Dream 1
I stood up in "my room," which I don't remember, mainly because it was very dark. I walked out into the hallway and saw that it resembled the stairway in my old landlady UG's house. I thought it was the stairway in UG's house -- just like I really thought it was my room. But it was a much wider, taller space, and open, not closed and walled off, with a dining table and a single, dim, incandescent bulb.
I walked hesitantly out to the stairway because it didn't make sense that I should be here coming out of my room.
I told myself I was dreaming. Excited now by my lucidity I walked more steadily. I jumped over the railing to float down to the table. And part of my self actually did float down to that area, but "it" slowly dissolved as "it" thought, Why didn't I ever eat at this table?
The more coherent "me" actually slid over the front of a seat back for a chair like in my great-grandmother A's living room. In fact, the place even somewhat resembled that living room, except that there was dim, incandescent light like a jewelry display case, and all over were tall-legged coffee tables of the darkest, most lustrous wood. On one of those tables was a recorder (the musical instrument) of brass or gold.
I may have been shocked by the incongruousness of the balcony and my sudden slumping down into a chair -- I know I did need to tell myself to keep a hold on my lucidity. I told myself, oddly, to act like this was the normal world as much as possible so as not to overload my mind with all the apparent absurdities of dream-life.
I stood up and walked to the recorder. I had something in my hand that would play music. I sat that down and took up the recorder. I blew into it. I hesitated because I knew this was like a flute in a video game -- it would take me somewhere else.
I didn't press any holes or blow with any rhythm. I just heaved a breath into the recorder and it seemed to play itself. It played a broken, untuned melody that got more and more raucous until it sounded like a hurricane of cheap, screaming notes. The world broke. The last thing I saw was the recorder.
I was in a dark bedroom again. I looked over at a wide mirror and saw a figure
on a wide bed's edge. I flew toward what I actually thought was the figure. He looked like Buddha. He seemed to be staring sentient at me. I thought it was my teacher -- my dream-teacher. I thought I would get as close as possible, though I was very afraid. But when I got there I hit nothing. Nobody was there. I was looking into the mirror. I couldn't see myself, though I didn't realize or fully appreciate that fact.
I turned around. The bedroom was now like the apartment I'd lived in in Albuquerque in 2004. I flew from in front of the mirror to the bed. I may have seen a faded image of someone sitting on the bed. but now the world fragmented slightly and I lay on the bed. I told myself, Keep the lucidity. Don't move so crazy.
I rolled over and grabbed a book titled Politics in lettering like might be seen on novels about the Old West. I thought, Here's my book, then, that I was reading before I went to sleep. I'm back here. I'm going to go exploring out-of-body.
I broke through some window and into a blue morning. I was on slope-side like the slope at Jackie Robinson Park. I told myself I would be this high in the air because my apartment was seven floors up. I flew over maybe six apartment buildings that were white brick, hexagonal, and columnar.
I told myself, Go slow and remember this stuff. You're having an OOBE that you need to verify upon awakening. For instance, pay attention to what's on the roofs of these buildings, since you never really see the roofs.
But I ended up flying, as if pulled, over to some walkway like the walkway at the top of the slope at Jackie Robinson Park, except that it was lined with makeshift, booth-like shops and some hole-in-the-wall shops like you see in the older areas along Saint Mark's Place.
(Continued entering dream in paper journal at 12 PM at Riverside Park in Manhattan.)
There were a lot of people along the walkway. It was now implicitly early evening, though it was still early morning, i.e. just at sunrise. I flew, but with my body upright and just high enough that my feet hovered just above the ground, almost like I was walking. I also flew through people -- I only felt I had my body: I was projected.
But at some point three bullying guys all clamored into a tight crowd, blocking a path I was going to take. I had seen them moving in this direction, and I had tried to beat them. But though I don't think they could see me, they hustled faster to get in my way.
Somehow my speed and the force stop changed my direction. I turned into a building like a library. The walls of the hallway I was in were wood. The hallway was long, with a good number of doorways on each side. There was plenty of light. I moved through with a lot of speed, intensely interested in my location, telling myself to remember, but not exactly sure what the heck this place could be.
At the end of the hallway was the main library area. Near the entrance were some folding tabbles and small chairs. A couple people in the hallway had noticed me. Now a kid came up to me. This unsettled me in some way. I woke up.
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