(Entered in paper journal at 9 PM on 9/29/04 at home in Albuquerque.)
(9pm 9/29 -- I will say again that I open my heart.)
***
(Entry in daytime paper journal for 10/2/04. No place/time info.)
9/30
Dream 1
I was around my old Los Alamos Americorps coworker and friend AL. We were doing something involving my penis. It was like she was fixing up my penis. But then she had a white "frosting tube" full of semen. I tasted it. It was sweet. I took it away and occasionally tasted it as I walked along by myself, thinking how wonderful it must be to practice fellatio on a good boy.
I was now standing over a toilet by a dirty, sliding glass door through which sunlight brightly poured. I was urinating. My penis was huge and it curved over to the right. I didn't stand in front of but on the left side of the toilet. I pissed and pissed in a huge, misty, powerful, acidic spray.
(The rest is how I remember it now, i.e. on 10/2/04.)
I now crouched in front of the sliding-glass door, holding an old rent contract. I saw that the name of this house's previous renter was also Preemie. The writing on the contract was tall, thin, and spiky. The last name was a sharp last name as well.
I thought to myself how the old woman who rented out this house had put men named Preemie into some kind of trap, a bondage that kept them in this house until she had drained them dry. I thought to myself, Well, I've discovered the truth! I won't let it happen to me!
I was now standing back over the toilet, realizing I was still pissing, just as powerfully as I had been before. At some point, I "remembered," the pissing had lessened a bit. But now it was just as big a spray as before. I was scared out of my wits that I could be so incontinent that I would embarrass myself with such continuous piss. I was now certain that I would never stop embarrassing myself with this pissing.
In despair I shouted out, "What the hell is going on here?"
Then I knew I was dreaming. I told myself, Get out of the dream! Wake up! Wake up!
Showing posts with label lucid dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lucid dream. Show all posts
Sunday, March 26, 2017
Saturday, March 11, 2017
(3/16/05) legend of the recorder
(Entered in paper journal at 6:10 AM at home in Harlem.)
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.
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.
(4/22/05) parking structure
(NOTE: At this time, I was really into trying to have mystical experiences. I would try to have out-of-body experiences at night. But I would also try to have lucid dreams. I would try to have lucid dreams for the experience in itself. But I also saw lucid dreaming as a means to achieving out-of-body experiences. Another way I saw to be a gateway to OBEs was spontaneous imaginations -- a kind of induced reverie I learned, partly from the paranormal books I read and partly from the works of Carl Jung. In this practice, I would try my best to let my mind wander and spontaneously create imagery, landscapes, atmospheres, etc., in which I would then wander around. I had greater and less success with this practice. In some cases, these imaginations would fade into dreams. When I had spontaneous imaginations but not dreams, I would record the imaginations in my main notebook. But, as below, when I wouldn't be sure whether I had dreamed or had a vivid spontaneous imagination, I would write the experience in my dream notebook. The dream below is also interesting, because it also seems to meld into a lucid dream.)
(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at home in Harlem.)
I'm not quite certain that this was a "dream."
Dream 1
I suddenly realized I was in a "scene," like a spontaneous scene I'd have in my imagination practices at night. But I felt myself there and was really surprised at that. So I told myself to calm down, focus, and move slowly.
The scene shifted weirdly. At first it looked like a covered walkway before the huge parking lot of a barely visited strip mall I would occasionally walk past in Albuquerque. But as I walked toward the parking lot the concrete walkway and ceiling continued stretching with new columns until the place seemed more like a parking structure on the side of a road. All the time the atmosphere had a sepia-crimson tint. I didn't take much note of this.
I finally got to the road as a van (?) passed. The sky was dark grey. Now something else happened that I don't quite remember. It's like I was walking toward a busy intersection that would allow me to get my bearings in what I thought was New Mexico. But as I approached and "reached" that intersection it became something else, and a new intersection appeared up ahead.
I was a little discouraged. I tried to understand what I was experiencing. Was it my imagination practice? Was it a lucid dream? Was it an out-of-body experience? And what caused these scene shifts? I didn't know what caused them, but I was disappointed in my "lucidity power," not in my inability consistently to change things (which is what I'm usually disappointed in), but in my inability to keep things consistent and "realistic."
I walked up to the intersection. Right before I reached it another vehicle passed me slowly. I think it was an old, wide, 1970s style car. The man inside, white, fleshy, balding (I think), in a yellow t-shirt (?), flatly, blankly stared at me, as if he didn't have a face at all, but also as if his fleshy face portrayed a distinct and yet relaxed loathing toward me. But perhaps this is a wrong impression, because I also remember wanting to ask him a question, to interact with him.
I stopped walking. I was just a couple dozen steps from the intersection. But some kind of tension got me nervous. I woke up.
(Entered in paper journal at 5:40 AM at home in Harlem.)
I'm not quite certain that this was a "dream."
Dream 1
I suddenly realized I was in a "scene," like a spontaneous scene I'd have in my imagination practices at night. But I felt myself there and was really surprised at that. So I told myself to calm down, focus, and move slowly.
The scene shifted weirdly. At first it looked like a covered walkway before the huge parking lot of a barely visited strip mall I would occasionally walk past in Albuquerque. But as I walked toward the parking lot the concrete walkway and ceiling continued stretching with new columns until the place seemed more like a parking structure on the side of a road. All the time the atmosphere had a sepia-crimson tint. I didn't take much note of this.
I finally got to the road as a van (?) passed. The sky was dark grey. Now something else happened that I don't quite remember. It's like I was walking toward a busy intersection that would allow me to get my bearings in what I thought was New Mexico. But as I approached and "reached" that intersection it became something else, and a new intersection appeared up ahead.
I was a little discouraged. I tried to understand what I was experiencing. Was it my imagination practice? Was it a lucid dream? Was it an out-of-body experience? And what caused these scene shifts? I didn't know what caused them, but I was disappointed in my "lucidity power," not in my inability consistently to change things (which is what I'm usually disappointed in), but in my inability to keep things consistent and "realistic."
I walked up to the intersection. Right before I reached it another vehicle passed me slowly. I think it was an old, wide, 1970s style car. The man inside, white, fleshy, balding (I think), in a yellow t-shirt (?), flatly, blankly stared at me, as if he didn't have a face at all, but also as if his fleshy face portrayed a distinct and yet relaxed loathing toward me. But perhaps this is a wrong impression, because I also remember wanting to ask him a question, to interact with him.
I stopped walking. I was just a couple dozen steps from the intersection. But some kind of tension got me nervous. I woke up.
(4/23/05) political bobcat cartoon
(Entered in paper journal at 12:10 PM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I stood in some shrubby or bunch-grassy, tan soiled, desert valley under a grey sky. My eyesight wasn't very good. I was at the foot of a somewhat gentle slope. I saw a wildcat run down the slope. The valley seems to have sloped down even more toward the right or to have curved or something. The wildcat was only trotting along, but it was still quickly approaching whatever landscape obscuration occurred.
I couldn't believe I was seeing a wildcat so close without it getting scared. I hoped it was a mountain lion. But I couldn't see it, though I was pretty sure it was a bobcat because of its fuzzy tail.
I grabbed either my glasses or a pair of binoculars from somewhere. When I put them up to my eyes, though, all I saw was some late nineteenth-century style poster in newsprint-like font with two color drawings about two-thirds up the page. The drawings were of dogs or pigs in dress suits and bowler hats. This, too, was slightly out of focus.
I took off the glasses (?), not understanding what I was seeing. For just a flicker while I snapped off my glasses I saw the valley clearly. I put the glasses back on after a few seconds. Once again I saw the newsprint poster.
I told myself, Oh, I'm in a dream. I got the feeling the poster was something important to remember, especially the event-title in tall letters over the drawings. I told myself to focus. The poster got clearer. I concentrated on the title. But even as I read it the letters seemed to change. Still I told myself, Read this title. You might see or hear words like it during the course of your waking day tomorrow.
Finally the words stopped shifting. I memorized the title (though I no longer remember it). It was rather like something written with the French pronunciation/spelling style but of a phrase or title derived from English but now in only a strange, non-lingual, quasi-English form.
Dream 1
I stood in some shrubby or bunch-grassy, tan soiled, desert valley under a grey sky. My eyesight wasn't very good. I was at the foot of a somewhat gentle slope. I saw a wildcat run down the slope. The valley seems to have sloped down even more toward the right or to have curved or something. The wildcat was only trotting along, but it was still quickly approaching whatever landscape obscuration occurred.
I couldn't believe I was seeing a wildcat so close without it getting scared. I hoped it was a mountain lion. But I couldn't see it, though I was pretty sure it was a bobcat because of its fuzzy tail.
I grabbed either my glasses or a pair of binoculars from somewhere. When I put them up to my eyes, though, all I saw was some late nineteenth-century style poster in newsprint-like font with two color drawings about two-thirds up the page. The drawings were of dogs or pigs in dress suits and bowler hats. This, too, was slightly out of focus.
I took off the glasses (?), not understanding what I was seeing. For just a flicker while I snapped off my glasses I saw the valley clearly. I put the glasses back on after a few seconds. Once again I saw the newsprint poster.
I told myself, Oh, I'm in a dream. I got the feeling the poster was something important to remember, especially the event-title in tall letters over the drawings. I told myself to focus. The poster got clearer. I concentrated on the title. But even as I read it the letters seemed to change. Still I told myself, Read this title. You might see or hear words like it during the course of your waking day tomorrow.
Finally the words stopped shifting. I memorized the title (though I no longer remember it). It was rather like something written with the French pronunciation/spelling style but of a phrase or title derived from English but now in only a strange, non-lingual, quasi-English form.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
(6/15/05) roman forum; lucidity in the nuclear bus stop
(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM at home in Harlem.)
Dream 1
I walked down into an area like a Roman forum or plaza. There was a pond/pool in the center. I faced the pool. Behind me was a wide, stone floor that ended in a short series of stairs sweeping up to a covered and columned area. While down by the pool I shook hands with someone and discussed something I don't remember.
I then walked up to the covered area. There was a chain link fence and some kind of stone banister. I stood there with somebody, possibly my NYC Americorps crew chief SM, possibly discussing a CD.
Dream 2
Nuclear war had been declared. My crew chief SM had a pickup truck. We were exactly at the spot where the bomb was going to land. SM was loading up his truck. I feel like he was talking about going to a shelter that was way too close to the bomb.
I think I told SM to choose a shelter farther away. In my head I could see different layers of color, yellow being the "hottest" and red the "coldest," from the center of the blast (which was in a suburban area). When I saw how far the colors went I was hopeless that any shelter would help.
Now there was another man, who looked like my crewmate BSC, loading up a Subaru station wagon with supplies. I looked in the back of his car. It was full of what looks like pound cake covered with chunks of cream cheese.
BSC said something like he had to go pick up more people. I asked if I could come with him. I sat in the seat behind the front seat. The car had a front seat, a middle seat, a back seat, and then a back area, for loading things.
People were already in the car. I looked behind me. There was a guy who looked like he was a clean-cut Christian with a modern look. At some point we picked up another guy who wore a white button-up shirt and a black tie but had maroon, spiked/waved hair, piercings, and wore makeup.
We stopped and got out and did something I don't remember. When we got back in one person was missing. I said, "Hey, we're driving off without that Christian guy."
I looked behind me and saw the Christian guy. He looked different. I said, "I didn't mean Christian in a bad way," even though I actually had.
He said, "That's okay. I'm not that much of a Christian."
I saw it was the maroon-haired guy who was gone.
But now we were driving through a completely different area of town. The guy driving was both BSC and SM. He was driving to a shelter I knew was worthless. It was shallow and weak. I knew another shelter that was farther away, deeper, and full of supplies. But nobody wanted to listen to me.
We now stopped. Everybody ran into a Greyhound-like bus station. I didn't know why. I followed them. But they ran too fast. The place was full, and the people I was with disappeared behind a group of people.
I stopped. Everybody around me was black. They all looked homeless, insane, thin, and violent. They all wore thick layers of winter clothing. I may have asked one of the folks where my group had gone. But I got no answer.
I regarded one of the people directly. Something about that made me realize I was dreaming. I was lucid. I remained calm to keep my lucid dream stable.
I walked to another person. I knelt beside him and looked at him. I said, "This is a dream. Do you know that you're part of a" (or "my"?) "lucid dream?" The person very uncomfortably shook his head a tiny bit and then squirmed his body away from me in his chair.
So I looked at the person next to him and said, "But you realize it, don't you?" That person squirmed grotesquely away from me as well. It scared me.
I realized that somehow this "bus stop" was an asylum. I stood and walked for a door. The door was guarded by a big, white cop.
I was still happy to be having a lucid dream. In my happiness I tried to fly, doing the "knee-jump" method (a method I'd learned for inducing flight in lucid dreaming from some book I'd read in waking life). But I just skipped. I calmed down and walked a few steps near the cop so he wouldn't think I was insane, too, and try and stop me from leaving.
I walked to the exit, a double set of automatic, sliding glass doors. The sun was bright, golden-tan outside. I was afraid to go out. I felt like my mind (!) wouldn't be good enough to create a reality outside and that I would be in a stupid, featureless, disappointing nowhere, no place better than my closed eyelids.
As I opened the doors I woke up. I wrestled with waking up, telling myself not to be afraid. The sun flooded my eyes. I wanted to continue in my lucid dream. But I was already waking up.
Dream 1
I walked down into an area like a Roman forum or plaza. There was a pond/pool in the center. I faced the pool. Behind me was a wide, stone floor that ended in a short series of stairs sweeping up to a covered and columned area. While down by the pool I shook hands with someone and discussed something I don't remember.
I then walked up to the covered area. There was a chain link fence and some kind of stone banister. I stood there with somebody, possibly my NYC Americorps crew chief SM, possibly discussing a CD.
Dream 2
Nuclear war had been declared. My crew chief SM had a pickup truck. We were exactly at the spot where the bomb was going to land. SM was loading up his truck. I feel like he was talking about going to a shelter that was way too close to the bomb.
I think I told SM to choose a shelter farther away. In my head I could see different layers of color, yellow being the "hottest" and red the "coldest," from the center of the blast (which was in a suburban area). When I saw how far the colors went I was hopeless that any shelter would help.
Now there was another man, who looked like my crewmate BSC, loading up a Subaru station wagon with supplies. I looked in the back of his car. It was full of what looks like pound cake covered with chunks of cream cheese.
BSC said something like he had to go pick up more people. I asked if I could come with him. I sat in the seat behind the front seat. The car had a front seat, a middle seat, a back seat, and then a back area, for loading things.
People were already in the car. I looked behind me. There was a guy who looked like he was a clean-cut Christian with a modern look. At some point we picked up another guy who wore a white button-up shirt and a black tie but had maroon, spiked/waved hair, piercings, and wore makeup.
We stopped and got out and did something I don't remember. When we got back in one person was missing. I said, "Hey, we're driving off without that Christian guy."
I looked behind me and saw the Christian guy. He looked different. I said, "I didn't mean Christian in a bad way," even though I actually had.
He said, "That's okay. I'm not that much of a Christian."
I saw it was the maroon-haired guy who was gone.
But now we were driving through a completely different area of town. The guy driving was both BSC and SM. He was driving to a shelter I knew was worthless. It was shallow and weak. I knew another shelter that was farther away, deeper, and full of supplies. But nobody wanted to listen to me.
We now stopped. Everybody ran into a Greyhound-like bus station. I didn't know why. I followed them. But they ran too fast. The place was full, and the people I was with disappeared behind a group of people.
I stopped. Everybody around me was black. They all looked homeless, insane, thin, and violent. They all wore thick layers of winter clothing. I may have asked one of the folks where my group had gone. But I got no answer.
I regarded one of the people directly. Something about that made me realize I was dreaming. I was lucid. I remained calm to keep my lucid dream stable.
I walked to another person. I knelt beside him and looked at him. I said, "This is a dream. Do you know that you're part of a" (or "my"?) "lucid dream?" The person very uncomfortably shook his head a tiny bit and then squirmed his body away from me in his chair.
So I looked at the person next to him and said, "But you realize it, don't you?" That person squirmed grotesquely away from me as well. It scared me.
I realized that somehow this "bus stop" was an asylum. I stood and walked for a door. The door was guarded by a big, white cop.
I was still happy to be having a lucid dream. In my happiness I tried to fly, doing the "knee-jump" method (a method I'd learned for inducing flight in lucid dreaming from some book I'd read in waking life). But I just skipped. I calmed down and walked a few steps near the cop so he wouldn't think I was insane, too, and try and stop me from leaving.
I walked to the exit, a double set of automatic, sliding glass doors. The sun was bright, golden-tan outside. I was afraid to go out. I felt like my mind (!) wouldn't be good enough to create a reality outside and that I would be in a stupid, featureless, disappointing nowhere, no place better than my closed eyelids.
As I opened the doors I woke up. I wrestled with waking up, telling myself not to be afraid. The sun flooded my eyes. I wanted to continue in my lucid dream. But I was already waking up.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
(3/9/06) lucid touchscreen cruelty
(Entered in paper journal at 8:02 PM at Starbucks on 43rd Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream 1
I sat up in my bed. I could hear people from my work talking, and I physically reacted as if they were there -- i.e. I "actively felt" the heard conversation, not moving per se, but "actively feeling."
My old boss PG started calling me a name that sounded like a stock analyst with whom I should have been familiar. A laptop rested on my bed-stretched legs. I typed frantically, trying to get out of one screen and into another. The present screen was peach (?).
Suddenly a woman appeared at the lower right-hand corner of the screen. She was a computer drawing, shown from the shoulders up.
I told myself, This isn't what I'm familiar with at all. Ah... I see. I'm dreaming.
I was lucid. But, I wasn't very surprised by this (as I usually would be on becoming lucid in a dream). It was very easy to relax, so that I would keep my lucid dream stable.
I touched the woman's picture, hoping to "get a message" or "perform some magic." The woman turned into a sharp, crystal-metal skull. I pulled away, trying to avoid the unsavory image and meaning.
I no longer had a body. The computer sat "before" me on the empty bed, at an angle so if I were on the bed, I'd be curled up against the wall.
I tried to make my surroundings change. But the only thing I did was turn the computer screen into a video of a loose classroom of kids who may have been in third grade. The video panned left to right and then right to left. Before it even showed, I knew what it was going to be.
I wanted to be cruel. I swiped my finger across the screen, right where I knew a girl's neck would appear. I hoped my finger would slice the girl's neck. I figured it would, since I was in a lucid dream. But it only made a weird, blood-like impression on the screen when the video turned on.
But I knew I could do something. I stared at the children as the video panned. I focused on making each one so sick he or she would die. And sure enough, by the time the video finished panning from left to right, children were crumpling up with sickness. And as the video panned from right to left, some children were collapsing, falling to the ground. One girl in particular looked at me pleadingly before she fell to the ground.
Dream 1
I sat up in my bed. I could hear people from my work talking, and I physically reacted as if they were there -- i.e. I "actively felt" the heard conversation, not moving per se, but "actively feeling."
My old boss PG started calling me a name that sounded like a stock analyst with whom I should have been familiar. A laptop rested on my bed-stretched legs. I typed frantically, trying to get out of one screen and into another. The present screen was peach (?).
Suddenly a woman appeared at the lower right-hand corner of the screen. She was a computer drawing, shown from the shoulders up.
I told myself, This isn't what I'm familiar with at all. Ah... I see. I'm dreaming.
I was lucid. But, I wasn't very surprised by this (as I usually would be on becoming lucid in a dream). It was very easy to relax, so that I would keep my lucid dream stable.
I touched the woman's picture, hoping to "get a message" or "perform some magic." The woman turned into a sharp, crystal-metal skull. I pulled away, trying to avoid the unsavory image and meaning.
I no longer had a body. The computer sat "before" me on the empty bed, at an angle so if I were on the bed, I'd be curled up against the wall.
I tried to make my surroundings change. But the only thing I did was turn the computer screen into a video of a loose classroom of kids who may have been in third grade. The video panned left to right and then right to left. Before it even showed, I knew what it was going to be.
I wanted to be cruel. I swiped my finger across the screen, right where I knew a girl's neck would appear. I hoped my finger would slice the girl's neck. I figured it would, since I was in a lucid dream. But it only made a weird, blood-like impression on the screen when the video turned on.
But I knew I could do something. I stared at the children as the video panned. I focused on making each one so sick he or she would die. And sure enough, by the time the video finished panning from left to right, children were crumpling up with sickness. And as the video panned from right to left, some children were collapsing, falling to the ground. One girl in particular looked at me pleadingly before she fell to the ground.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
(10/2/06) shifting lucid mountain range; the deadly trick; friends back together
(Entered in paper dream journal at home in Brooklyn.)
Dream 1
I was in a nice house in a mountain town. The front wall was mostly windows, with thin, elegant wood "tracing" or "framing." It was a brisk day, with thin layers of snow in cirrus-like blankets over portions of ground. I looked into the distance, beyond clean buildings and tidy foothills, to a column of stone that looked magnificent.
I wished I could go there. But I felt some engagement was holding me back. But I told myself, No, you can go there! This is a dream. you don't have to stay here. Just go!
I felt awareness and the freshness of lucidity. I opened the door. The landscape kept shifting. I mainly focused on keeping calm and centered. At one moment the weather was rainy, at another it was sunny and cold with snow. At another it was grey and snowy.
The somewhat lonely street before the busy mountain town now became an almost suburban streeet. I tried to keep focus on the mountain town, the hills, and the column. But they got a little jangled.
A few people got in my way. I started running to get where I was going quickly, but then a young running couple cornered me into a limb of a hanging tree. I felt like I was constantly being detoured by these people. I had to get above it all.
In reaction (not conscious) I began flying. I was surprised, but I kept my awareness. I was intensely interested in reaching the column. But as I flew I saw the mountains change. Their tops would become buildings. Sometimes the entire mountain melted down to a tall building. Finally I saw the column's top transforming into a building. I couldn't bear to look.
My location shifted suddenly. I figured even if the column was no longer here I could explore. I landed on a wide hillside of wild bunch grass at the edge of a grove of white birch trees. It was a crisp, sunny day. There was frost on the ground.
Suddenly I was on a street in a suburban neighborhood. It feels like I was at the top of a hill. It was very dark -- night -- and maybe with no streetlights?
My friend R was in a car that was facing me. There was possibly a light on in the car. R said something like, "The dream is over." He handed me a thick document -- possibly mental instructions on the dream I should be having.
I took the document to get away from R. But I thought, No. This is a lucid dream. I should have more freedom than this!
I told myself to fly to a new location. I changed through the air, immediately finding myself cloaked in nothingness -- oblivion.
Suddenly I landed in front of R's car. R said, "See? There's no escape. The lucidity you had is over. Just take this dream and go on."
I got into the passenger seat and began to read the dream.
Dream 2
A show. A woman ("Lucille Ball") was put up by a man (her son?) to try and force a man under her responsibility somehow to sign something. He wouldn't sign.
So the son and her mother made a plan. The woman took the man to a high mountain and went sledding down it with him, to play some romantic game (the man was infatuated with the woman). She pretended to lose her balance on a steep portion of the mountain. Acting exaggeratedly romantically feminine, she rolled out of the sled ( and the rut or the track the sled was in), calling out to the man.
The mother planned for the man to roll out with her, partially to rescue her, but also partially because she'd thrown the sled off balance (on purpose) pretty strongly. The woman would roll around in the snow suggestively with the man, and at the high point of feigned seduction, coerce the man to agree to sign this notice.
But though the woman and the sled had fallen off the track or rut, the man had stayed in the rut. He had the feeling the woman was planning something, or at least that she had been faking something all along. The man was moving much slower down the rut without a sled. He was naked, muscular, and beautiful, with long hair and dark, rich, Native American skin.
Suddenly a male and female couple came rushing in their sled down this steep portion of the mountain. They had been sent by the "Lucille Ball" woman to attack the man if he didn't agree to sign the note.
The "Lucille Ball" woman felt a sharp pang of concern right before the sled struck the man. Would the man be killed?
The man and woman struck the man in the back and knocked him clean off the hillside. His back had been broken. Now he was plummeting down a cliff. He slammed face first to the ground below a waterfall. I knew he was dead. His body shuddered a few times and then relaxed.
I could tell the woman felt bad and wished she hadn't tried to trick the man into signing the note.
Dream 3
I sat with my friend R in an interesting hall -- very much like the sculpture hall at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. R told me he had finally stopped being angry at his ex-wife and my good friend C. He was inviting her to dinner. I could come as well.
I sat on steps in front of some kind of techie computer kiosk. I looked up the steps. I saw C with short hair and in a black dress. She seemed to be in much better shape than I'd thought she'd be. I stood and joined arms with her. We walked down the steps and down the hallway.
R was talking about how C was okay with R and R's new girlfriend L being together. I thought, Well, then it obviously won't make R feel jealous that C and I are locking arms. I felt proud and happy to have both of my old friends back.
Dream 1
I was in a nice house in a mountain town. The front wall was mostly windows, with thin, elegant wood "tracing" or "framing." It was a brisk day, with thin layers of snow in cirrus-like blankets over portions of ground. I looked into the distance, beyond clean buildings and tidy foothills, to a column of stone that looked magnificent.
I wished I could go there. But I felt some engagement was holding me back. But I told myself, No, you can go there! This is a dream. you don't have to stay here. Just go!
I felt awareness and the freshness of lucidity. I opened the door. The landscape kept shifting. I mainly focused on keeping calm and centered. At one moment the weather was rainy, at another it was sunny and cold with snow. At another it was grey and snowy.
The somewhat lonely street before the busy mountain town now became an almost suburban streeet. I tried to keep focus on the mountain town, the hills, and the column. But they got a little jangled.
A few people got in my way. I started running to get where I was going quickly, but then a young running couple cornered me into a limb of a hanging tree. I felt like I was constantly being detoured by these people. I had to get above it all.
In reaction (not conscious) I began flying. I was surprised, but I kept my awareness. I was intensely interested in reaching the column. But as I flew I saw the mountains change. Their tops would become buildings. Sometimes the entire mountain melted down to a tall building. Finally I saw the column's top transforming into a building. I couldn't bear to look.
My location shifted suddenly. I figured even if the column was no longer here I could explore. I landed on a wide hillside of wild bunch grass at the edge of a grove of white birch trees. It was a crisp, sunny day. There was frost on the ground.
Suddenly I was on a street in a suburban neighborhood. It feels like I was at the top of a hill. It was very dark -- night -- and maybe with no streetlights?
My friend R was in a car that was facing me. There was possibly a light on in the car. R said something like, "The dream is over." He handed me a thick document -- possibly mental instructions on the dream I should be having.
I took the document to get away from R. But I thought, No. This is a lucid dream. I should have more freedom than this!
I told myself to fly to a new location. I changed through the air, immediately finding myself cloaked in nothingness -- oblivion.
Suddenly I landed in front of R's car. R said, "See? There's no escape. The lucidity you had is over. Just take this dream and go on."
I got into the passenger seat and began to read the dream.
Dream 2
A show. A woman ("Lucille Ball") was put up by a man (her son?) to try and force a man under her responsibility somehow to sign something. He wouldn't sign.
So the son and her mother made a plan. The woman took the man to a high mountain and went sledding down it with him, to play some romantic game (the man was infatuated with the woman). She pretended to lose her balance on a steep portion of the mountain. Acting exaggeratedly romantically feminine, she rolled out of the sled ( and the rut or the track the sled was in), calling out to the man.
The mother planned for the man to roll out with her, partially to rescue her, but also partially because she'd thrown the sled off balance (on purpose) pretty strongly. The woman would roll around in the snow suggestively with the man, and at the high point of feigned seduction, coerce the man to agree to sign this notice.
But though the woman and the sled had fallen off the track or rut, the man had stayed in the rut. He had the feeling the woman was planning something, or at least that she had been faking something all along. The man was moving much slower down the rut without a sled. He was naked, muscular, and beautiful, with long hair and dark, rich, Native American skin.
Suddenly a male and female couple came rushing in their sled down this steep portion of the mountain. They had been sent by the "Lucille Ball" woman to attack the man if he didn't agree to sign the note.
The "Lucille Ball" woman felt a sharp pang of concern right before the sled struck the man. Would the man be killed?
The man and woman struck the man in the back and knocked him clean off the hillside. His back had been broken. Now he was plummeting down a cliff. He slammed face first to the ground below a waterfall. I knew he was dead. His body shuddered a few times and then relaxed.
I could tell the woman felt bad and wished she hadn't tried to trick the man into signing the note.
Dream 3
I sat with my friend R in an interesting hall -- very much like the sculpture hall at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. R told me he had finally stopped being angry at his ex-wife and my good friend C. He was inviting her to dinner. I could come as well.
I sat on steps in front of some kind of techie computer kiosk. I looked up the steps. I saw C with short hair and in a black dress. She seemed to be in much better shape than I'd thought she'd be. I stood and joined arms with her. We walked down the steps and down the hallway.
R was talking about how C was okay with R and R's new girlfriend L being together. I thought, Well, then it obviously won't make R feel jealous that C and I are locking arms. I felt proud and happy to have both of my old friends back.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
(6/23/07) the giant fly; what i never saw; two girls in one; lucid in reality
(Entered on Q-train, but don't know when.)
Dream #1
I lay in bed. I opened my eyes and looked at the wall (to my left). An insect, a small roach, I thought, climbed quickly down the wall. I was disappointed to have a roach in my house. I thought I would get up and kill it. But now I saw two on the wall. I thought I might be seeing things.
I closed my eyes and opened them again. There were lots of insects (flies?) climbing all over my wall. I leaped out of bed, possibly in a straight-bodied roll parallel to the floor and landing in a crouch facing the wall. The wall was full of insects. I wondered what I could do to get rid of the insects. I thought I might have to call an exterminator and leave my house for a little while.
Down on the lower, right section of the wall, or perhaps on the "left foot" corner of my bed, was a fly about the size of my fist. It seemed to call for me, and to control all the other insects so that they, too, would call me. I was afraid, but I got closer. The giant fly made a semi-melodic, buzzing sound, almost like wings beating against a champagne flute. The fly's body was spiny and shine, an orange-green, reflective color. It had orangish wings.
Dream #2
I walked into a nice, big dining room. There might not have been any table. The room was narrow and long. The walls were wood. Some dim, warm daylight came through a yellowish curtain at the other short end of the room. The door I walked in through was at the lower part of the right long wall. A little farther up that wall stood my co-worker and good friend CL. Between us was a chest of drawers.
I walked in and immediately turned to face the chest. CL asked me if I had brought XXXXX (can't remember). I had some green, fleshy-looking sack in my hands. I cut it open and pulled out a "flying saucer." This was something like a silver table ornament or serving tray. It looked like a cake tray with no glass top and with ridges or slots all through it. I put it on the chest.
I thought CL might be trying to hide this object from others, as part of an overall conspiracy. I thought CL might be trying to convince me as well that I hadn't seen the flying saucer. CL very harshly asked me a question insinuating that I had already told my co-worker JB about the flying saucer. I became tense and slightly afraid.
Dream #3
I sat in the front row at some show. The seating was all rows of folding chairs. The floor was white tile. The lights were brightish orange and fluorescent. The place was full of people. The "stage" was level with the floor. On the back wall (a back wall) was a screen against which was projected a karaoke video.
A song started up. The girl to my left, who looked like my co-worker and fellow-Assistant FA, said, "Oh, you should sing this one! You love these guys!" It took me a second before I recognized the song as a Smashing Pumpkins song.
But I couldn't "catch" the words fast enough to begin singing with the music. Plus, the words on the screen weren't the same as the words to the song. And the video would occasionally fade in and out unexpectedly. I told the girl that I did love this song, but that I didn't know it well enough to keep up.
I began cuddling with the girl. She had nice, dark skin. She wasn't thin, but she had the prettiness of a thin girl.
I was disappointed in myself for being so boring that I couldn't sing a song.
I now sat laying across the girl's chest. The girl now looked like one of my good friends, PD. She was still not thin. She wore a pastel turquoise-green, soft-fabric shirt. Below the collar, squared holes were cut out to look like an Egyptian necklace. The fabric between the holes was also strung in a way to look and feel like beads.
I ran my left finger along this "necklace" collar-piece. I also touched some jewelry on the girl's right upper arm. I felt like a child. I hoped this wouldn't turn the girl off and that we could still have sex. The girl said, "I will miss you very much when I am gone."
Dream #4
I woke up from a dream. I stood out of my bed by the foot of the bed and walked to the wall facing the foot of the bed. There was a wooden ladder folded against the wall. I was going to take it away from the wall, but I hung on one of the steps and looked at my wall. There was a yellowish, chipped substance dirtying the wall.
I didn't remember such messiness. At first I thought, Well, maybe I don't look at this wall well enough to have seen this dirty patch. Then I thought, No. This wall is different in another way: it's missing its little framing decorations: it's just completely smooth.
The discrepancy between this wall and my normal perception of my bedroom wall made me wonder where I was. I told myself, I just woke from a dream. I have to be awake. But I was now getting the strange feeling that life was a dream, and that I could wake into lucidity from waking life just as I would wake into lucidity in dreams.
I did something like what a person would do holding his breath and bracing for a plunge into a swimming pool. I thought, This is exactly what people think can't be done. And I'm trying to do it.
I felt the electric buzz (which, as I'd read in the literature, was a precursor, not for lucid dreams, but for out-of-body experiences). But when lucidity came, I realized that this had all been a dream after all. I wasn't "lucid" in (or ex-) reality. I was only lucid in my dream.
I wanted to explore the lucid dream, but I didn't believe I could imagine anything other than what I was presently seeing: the ladder and the wall. So I told myself, You are going to turn around clockwise. As you complete the turn you will wake back into waking life and you will be back in bed.
But even as I "held my breath, braced," and turned, I thought, Why am I doing this? If I'm lucid I should go exploring. But it was like I couldn't control myself, like I was being controlled by another will and now was in a gravitational spin that I couldn't pull out of.
Dream #1
I lay in bed. I opened my eyes and looked at the wall (to my left). An insect, a small roach, I thought, climbed quickly down the wall. I was disappointed to have a roach in my house. I thought I would get up and kill it. But now I saw two on the wall. I thought I might be seeing things.
I closed my eyes and opened them again. There were lots of insects (flies?) climbing all over my wall. I leaped out of bed, possibly in a straight-bodied roll parallel to the floor and landing in a crouch facing the wall. The wall was full of insects. I wondered what I could do to get rid of the insects. I thought I might have to call an exterminator and leave my house for a little while.
Down on the lower, right section of the wall, or perhaps on the "left foot" corner of my bed, was a fly about the size of my fist. It seemed to call for me, and to control all the other insects so that they, too, would call me. I was afraid, but I got closer. The giant fly made a semi-melodic, buzzing sound, almost like wings beating against a champagne flute. The fly's body was spiny and shine, an orange-green, reflective color. It had orangish wings.
Dream #2
I walked into a nice, big dining room. There might not have been any table. The room was narrow and long. The walls were wood. Some dim, warm daylight came through a yellowish curtain at the other short end of the room. The door I walked in through was at the lower part of the right long wall. A little farther up that wall stood my co-worker and good friend CL. Between us was a chest of drawers.
I walked in and immediately turned to face the chest. CL asked me if I had brought XXXXX (can't remember). I had some green, fleshy-looking sack in my hands. I cut it open and pulled out a "flying saucer." This was something like a silver table ornament or serving tray. It looked like a cake tray with no glass top and with ridges or slots all through it. I put it on the chest.
I thought CL might be trying to hide this object from others, as part of an overall conspiracy. I thought CL might be trying to convince me as well that I hadn't seen the flying saucer. CL very harshly asked me a question insinuating that I had already told my co-worker JB about the flying saucer. I became tense and slightly afraid.
Dream #3
I sat in the front row at some show. The seating was all rows of folding chairs. The floor was white tile. The lights were brightish orange and fluorescent. The place was full of people. The "stage" was level with the floor. On the back wall (a back wall) was a screen against which was projected a karaoke video.
A song started up. The girl to my left, who looked like my co-worker and fellow-Assistant FA, said, "Oh, you should sing this one! You love these guys!" It took me a second before I recognized the song as a Smashing Pumpkins song.
But I couldn't "catch" the words fast enough to begin singing with the music. Plus, the words on the screen weren't the same as the words to the song. And the video would occasionally fade in and out unexpectedly. I told the girl that I did love this song, but that I didn't know it well enough to keep up.
I began cuddling with the girl. She had nice, dark skin. She wasn't thin, but she had the prettiness of a thin girl.
I was disappointed in myself for being so boring that I couldn't sing a song.
I now sat laying across the girl's chest. The girl now looked like one of my good friends, PD. She was still not thin. She wore a pastel turquoise-green, soft-fabric shirt. Below the collar, squared holes were cut out to look like an Egyptian necklace. The fabric between the holes was also strung in a way to look and feel like beads.
I ran my left finger along this "necklace" collar-piece. I also touched some jewelry on the girl's right upper arm. I felt like a child. I hoped this wouldn't turn the girl off and that we could still have sex. The girl said, "I will miss you very much when I am gone."
Dream #4
I woke up from a dream. I stood out of my bed by the foot of the bed and walked to the wall facing the foot of the bed. There was a wooden ladder folded against the wall. I was going to take it away from the wall, but I hung on one of the steps and looked at my wall. There was a yellowish, chipped substance dirtying the wall.
I didn't remember such messiness. At first I thought, Well, maybe I don't look at this wall well enough to have seen this dirty patch. Then I thought, No. This wall is different in another way: it's missing its little framing decorations: it's just completely smooth.
The discrepancy between this wall and my normal perception of my bedroom wall made me wonder where I was. I told myself, I just woke from a dream. I have to be awake. But I was now getting the strange feeling that life was a dream, and that I could wake into lucidity from waking life just as I would wake into lucidity in dreams.
I did something like what a person would do holding his breath and bracing for a plunge into a swimming pool. I thought, This is exactly what people think can't be done. And I'm trying to do it.
I felt the electric buzz (which, as I'd read in the literature, was a precursor, not for lucid dreams, but for out-of-body experiences). But when lucidity came, I realized that this had all been a dream after all. I wasn't "lucid" in (or ex-) reality. I was only lucid in my dream.
I wanted to explore the lucid dream, but I didn't believe I could imagine anything other than what I was presently seeing: the ladder and the wall. So I told myself, You are going to turn around clockwise. As you complete the turn you will wake back into waking life and you will be back in bed.
But even as I "held my breath, braced," and turned, I thought, Why am I doing this? If I'm lucid I should go exploring. But it was like I couldn't control myself, like I was being controlled by another will and now was in a gravitational spin that I couldn't pull out of.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
(11/20/07) celebrity assistant; blackbird lucid
(Entered in paper journal at 5:20 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I walked through the lobby of a nice, modern building with an Asian woman. The woman was pretty, but a little overweight. She told me she worked with my company's economist, ML. I thought that was neat. Suddenly I remembered a news article or TV story saying ML had often had the sole audience of the former Fed chairman.
The woman and I stood in the elevator. We were going up. I asked the woman, "Doesn't it ever seem weird to be working with such a famous person? Do people ever treat you weird?"
The elevator opened on the woman's floor. The woman giggled and shook her head. She walked out. I thought I had probably said something kind of dumb to the woman. I had wanted to be friends with her. Now she probably just thought I wanted to advance my career.
Dream #2
I got onto a bus with a line of people. I sat in the second row of the bus. A man who had been in front of me in line sat in the front row. He was black, with lightish skin. He was tall, with a scraggly beard and wide, frizzy hair. He looked mean. The second row felt tight, like the seat back from the first row was pushing into my space.
The bu drove along a river or wide body of water (to our left). Before the river were small warehousing or industrial areas. I sat a jet like an SR-71 Blackbird glide over the water. It moved slowly. It came closer and was now large in my view.
I didn't know the man in front of me. I was pretty sure he didn't like me. But I knocked on the seat-back and said, "Blackbird! Blackbird!"
The man said, "I don't want to see it. I don't want to know what's happening if something like that is flying again."
The Blackbird was pointed at maybe seventy-five degrees, its underside facing us. It may have been only one hundred feet above us. It had a weird, thin, twisted shape. There was a lot more red lining on it than I was familiar with there being.
The Blackbird lifted slowly in the air and then clattered down onto its back in one of the industrial lots. I thought the man meant, when he said he didn't want to know why a Blackbird was flying, that he didn't want to know that a nuclear war was approaching. I thought, seeing the Blackbird lying on its back (the Blackbird having skidded across the lot as if it were just a hollow shell), that if it had a nuclear bomb on board, the crash might have agitated the bomb so that the bomb would go off soon.
I looked away almost flinchingly. But by then we had pretty much passed the jet. I thought, It's strange, isn't it?, that I should see something like that. This is a dream.
At first I couldn't believe it: everything felt so real. But I thought, To see if it is a dream, I should just shout out that it is. I pounded on the seat back and window and yelled, "This is a dream! This is a dream!"
I decided to control my own actions. I would go back to the plane. I stood up. Everything faded out, as if I were waking up or going out of the dream. I tried to keep myself aware. I walked to the back of the bus. I couldn't see where I was going. I couldn't tell whether I was dreaming or just imagining.
I got to the back of the bus. Right behind the bus, I knew, was an SR-71 Blackbird that was being towed along on a truck. I moved through the back of the bus (i.e. through the material of a door that was in the wall of the back of the bus, then kick-pushed off the back of the bus, like a swimmer would kick-push off a wall, to fly/swim to the hatch for the cockpit of the jet.
Dream #1
I walked through the lobby of a nice, modern building with an Asian woman. The woman was pretty, but a little overweight. She told me she worked with my company's economist, ML. I thought that was neat. Suddenly I remembered a news article or TV story saying ML had often had the sole audience of the former Fed chairman.
The woman and I stood in the elevator. We were going up. I asked the woman, "Doesn't it ever seem weird to be working with such a famous person? Do people ever treat you weird?"
The elevator opened on the woman's floor. The woman giggled and shook her head. She walked out. I thought I had probably said something kind of dumb to the woman. I had wanted to be friends with her. Now she probably just thought I wanted to advance my career.
Dream #2
I got onto a bus with a line of people. I sat in the second row of the bus. A man who had been in front of me in line sat in the front row. He was black, with lightish skin. He was tall, with a scraggly beard and wide, frizzy hair. He looked mean. The second row felt tight, like the seat back from the first row was pushing into my space.
The bu drove along a river or wide body of water (to our left). Before the river were small warehousing or industrial areas. I sat a jet like an SR-71 Blackbird glide over the water. It moved slowly. It came closer and was now large in my view.
I didn't know the man in front of me. I was pretty sure he didn't like me. But I knocked on the seat-back and said, "Blackbird! Blackbird!"
The man said, "I don't want to see it. I don't want to know what's happening if something like that is flying again."
The Blackbird was pointed at maybe seventy-five degrees, its underside facing us. It may have been only one hundred feet above us. It had a weird, thin, twisted shape. There was a lot more red lining on it than I was familiar with there being.
The Blackbird lifted slowly in the air and then clattered down onto its back in one of the industrial lots. I thought the man meant, when he said he didn't want to know why a Blackbird was flying, that he didn't want to know that a nuclear war was approaching. I thought, seeing the Blackbird lying on its back (the Blackbird having skidded across the lot as if it were just a hollow shell), that if it had a nuclear bomb on board, the crash might have agitated the bomb so that the bomb would go off soon.
I looked away almost flinchingly. But by then we had pretty much passed the jet. I thought, It's strange, isn't it?, that I should see something like that. This is a dream.
At first I couldn't believe it: everything felt so real. But I thought, To see if it is a dream, I should just shout out that it is. I pounded on the seat back and window and yelled, "This is a dream! This is a dream!"
I decided to control my own actions. I would go back to the plane. I stood up. Everything faded out, as if I were waking up or going out of the dream. I tried to keep myself aware. I walked to the back of the bus. I couldn't see where I was going. I couldn't tell whether I was dreaming or just imagining.
I got to the back of the bus. Right behind the bus, I knew, was an SR-71 Blackbird that was being towed along on a truck. I moved through the back of the bus (i.e. through the material of a door that was in the wall of the back of the bus, then kick-pushed off the back of the bus, like a swimmer would kick-push off a wall, to fly/swim to the hatch for the cockpit of the jet.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
(12/22/07) the fleshy tree; put it all on red!
(Entered in paper journal at 8:15 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was on a sidewalk by a tall wall of black-grey, granite rocks. I was clipping vine-like weeds which had grown from the park, a hill of which crested at the top of the fence. I noticed, though, to my right, where the fence was lower, that as I clipped the weeds there grey fleshy, peach-colored, vine-like tendrils. They grew with speed and direction, something almost like will.
I thought, How can I stop these things from growing? I then thought, If these things have a will, are they angry at me for clipping them? I was afraid that the peach-colored weeds would do something like strangle me. But I kept clipping the green weeds around me because the wall really needed the cleaning.
I looked to my right again. The stone wall was gone. There was only a black-iron fence showing a lawn level with the sidewalk. On the lawn was a smallish (maybe fifteen-foot-tall) tree. I realized the peach tendrils hadn't been weeds, but the roots of this tree.
The tree grew a huge, peach-colored limb out of itself, as willed and flexible as the tendrils had been. I thought again that the limb was angry at me and wanted to do something awful to me by touching me. The limb grew into a shape like a phallus.
I stepped backwards, across the street. But then I thought, Wait. You've seen a tree like this before. It was in a dream. This is a dream, too. I was still afraid. But I thought that if I was having another dream with a tree like this, I might as well risk an encounter with the tree to see what it was all about, even if it did something bad to me.
I walked across the street again, toward the tree. As I did, the scene (and my consciousness of the dream) faded out.
I was now walking into something like a parking lot with a group of friends. I wanted to show my friends the tree, to see what they made of it. But the tree was now just a metallic pole, like the perforated poles for street signs.
A woman thought I was crazy for having called this thing a tree. But I knew the tree would reveal itself, mainly once prey had gotten close enough for it to attack.
I was mad that the girl thought I was crazy. I wanted to show her that I wasn't lying. I told her to go smack the pole. So she did. Something invisible smacked the girl on the arm. The girl was now interested, but not really concerned.
I got even angrier. I really wanted the girl to feel how afraid she should be. So I told her to bite the pole. The girl bit into the pole and growled like a dog. Then she stood up. She said, "See? Nothing happened."
But suddenly the girl's eyes went blank. The girl was trying to move, but it was like something was holding her head. Something pressed in on the girl's head. The girl got slapped around a couple of times by some invisible force.
Now the girl was kneeling before the group and directly in front of me. The girl was dressed like an old, Mexican peasant woman, with a dark shawl over her head. The girl was making a weird, hooting, pained noise.
The girl looked up at me. Her eyes had been poked out. But the tree was still attacking her, and now something even worse would happen. I thought, Why did I put her into that kind of trap?
Dream #2
I stood before a conveyor belt cash register in a grocery store. A skinnyish, baldish, white man with a prim attitude stood behind the register. The man had rung up my food order. But a person (an older man?) behind me pointed at a painting on the wall to my right. He said, "I'm intersted in buying that."
The cashier hadn't wanted to help me much in the first place. But now he took the occasion to ignore me completely. I had handed the cashier my money. He'd now dropped it onto the conveyor belt and walked slightly backward from the register, looking over at the painting. I tried to get the cashier's attention, so I could pay and leave. But the cashier wouldn't pay attention to me.
I looked at the painting. It was maybe twelve feet by twelve feet. The scene was a Seurat-style "park," but the painting style was very much like that of Gauguin, with deep and pale blues and deep and pale purples. I looked down at my money on the conveyor belt.
Now an Hispanic (or light-skinned black) woman, another worker, walked up to the register, possibly with another female worker. The woman took my bills off the conveyor belt. She asked me, "This is what you gave him?"
I said, "Yes."
She said, "You gave him way too much." She handed me back all my money. I probably kept $150 (???!!!) and handed back the rest. I tried to make a joke about having thrown down so much money.
There were a few people (friends?) around me. We were all laughing at something, I don't know what. I tried to make a joke along the lines that I had thrown down all that money because I thought we were at a casino. But my vision was cloudy and my brain was blurry, and I couldn't think of what to say or do. On top of that, nobody was paying attention to me. My friends were all laughing at some random thing. The cashier and her friend were talking to each other and not paying attention to me.
I threw my money back on the conveyor belt again, as if I were throwing chips on a roulette table. I felt stupid, first because I had thrown the money so messily and violently, and second because my mind was so cloudy that I couldn't think of what to say next.
I cried, "Put it all on red!"
Dream #1
I was on a sidewalk by a tall wall of black-grey, granite rocks. I was clipping vine-like weeds which had grown from the park, a hill of which crested at the top of the fence. I noticed, though, to my right, where the fence was lower, that as I clipped the weeds there grey fleshy, peach-colored, vine-like tendrils. They grew with speed and direction, something almost like will.
I thought, How can I stop these things from growing? I then thought, If these things have a will, are they angry at me for clipping them? I was afraid that the peach-colored weeds would do something like strangle me. But I kept clipping the green weeds around me because the wall really needed the cleaning.
I looked to my right again. The stone wall was gone. There was only a black-iron fence showing a lawn level with the sidewalk. On the lawn was a smallish (maybe fifteen-foot-tall) tree. I realized the peach tendrils hadn't been weeds, but the roots of this tree.
The tree grew a huge, peach-colored limb out of itself, as willed and flexible as the tendrils had been. I thought again that the limb was angry at me and wanted to do something awful to me by touching me. The limb grew into a shape like a phallus.
I stepped backwards, across the street. But then I thought, Wait. You've seen a tree like this before. It was in a dream. This is a dream, too. I was still afraid. But I thought that if I was having another dream with a tree like this, I might as well risk an encounter with the tree to see what it was all about, even if it did something bad to me.
I walked across the street again, toward the tree. As I did, the scene (and my consciousness of the dream) faded out.
I was now walking into something like a parking lot with a group of friends. I wanted to show my friends the tree, to see what they made of it. But the tree was now just a metallic pole, like the perforated poles for street signs.
A woman thought I was crazy for having called this thing a tree. But I knew the tree would reveal itself, mainly once prey had gotten close enough for it to attack.
I was mad that the girl thought I was crazy. I wanted to show her that I wasn't lying. I told her to go smack the pole. So she did. Something invisible smacked the girl on the arm. The girl was now interested, but not really concerned.
I got even angrier. I really wanted the girl to feel how afraid she should be. So I told her to bite the pole. The girl bit into the pole and growled like a dog. Then she stood up. She said, "See? Nothing happened."
But suddenly the girl's eyes went blank. The girl was trying to move, but it was like something was holding her head. Something pressed in on the girl's head. The girl got slapped around a couple of times by some invisible force.
Now the girl was kneeling before the group and directly in front of me. The girl was dressed like an old, Mexican peasant woman, with a dark shawl over her head. The girl was making a weird, hooting, pained noise.
The girl looked up at me. Her eyes had been poked out. But the tree was still attacking her, and now something even worse would happen. I thought, Why did I put her into that kind of trap?
Dream #2
I stood before a conveyor belt cash register in a grocery store. A skinnyish, baldish, white man with a prim attitude stood behind the register. The man had rung up my food order. But a person (an older man?) behind me pointed at a painting on the wall to my right. He said, "I'm intersted in buying that."
The cashier hadn't wanted to help me much in the first place. But now he took the occasion to ignore me completely. I had handed the cashier my money. He'd now dropped it onto the conveyor belt and walked slightly backward from the register, looking over at the painting. I tried to get the cashier's attention, so I could pay and leave. But the cashier wouldn't pay attention to me.
I looked at the painting. It was maybe twelve feet by twelve feet. The scene was a Seurat-style "park," but the painting style was very much like that of Gauguin, with deep and pale blues and deep and pale purples. I looked down at my money on the conveyor belt.
Now an Hispanic (or light-skinned black) woman, another worker, walked up to the register, possibly with another female worker. The woman took my bills off the conveyor belt. She asked me, "This is what you gave him?"
I said, "Yes."
She said, "You gave him way too much." She handed me back all my money. I probably kept $150 (???!!!) and handed back the rest. I tried to make a joke about having thrown down so much money.
There were a few people (friends?) around me. We were all laughing at something, I don't know what. I tried to make a joke along the lines that I had thrown down all that money because I thought we were at a casino. But my vision was cloudy and my brain was blurry, and I couldn't think of what to say or do. On top of that, nobody was paying attention to me. My friends were all laughing at some random thing. The cashier and her friend were talking to each other and not paying attention to me.
I threw my money back on the conveyor belt again, as if I were throwing chips on a roulette table. I felt stupid, first because I had thrown the money so messily and violently, and second because my mind was so cloudy that I couldn't think of what to say next.
I cried, "Put it all on red!"
Sunday, January 20, 2013
(6/10/08) lucid birds
(Entered in paper journal at 6:13 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I stood at the top of a slight hill, on a street corner in a residential suburban neighborhood. It was a winter night, and snow lay on the street and sidewalks.
A small firetruck, like a pickup truck, drove down the hill, to my right. I watched it or heard it lose control. I looked down after it. It had crashed into a barren, even limbless tree, in front of "my mom's house," which was apparently the house my family had lived in during my last years of high school.
The driver got out of the truck. He was a bald, black man. He radioed or phoned someone at his station that he had crashed.
I remembered that the tree in front of my mom's house had been rotting from the inside because of wood-wasps. I ran down the street to warn the fireman that the tree could fall on him if he stood in front of it, now that it had been hit so hard. The snow in the street was knee-deep. I slightly hesitated in warning the man -- I was afraid he'd do something bad to me or accuse me of having done something bad and arrest me.
About halfway down the street I turned around to look back up the hill. At the top of the hill may have been a car with the doors left open. I thought it might be easier for me to get into the car and drive down to warn the man.
I suddenly realized the air was warm. I thought, Wasn't it summer and sweltering hot (in waking life) today? How is it snowing now? And why is the warmth not melting the snow?
I realized I was dreaming. The orange-streetlight atmosphere became tinged with a raspy white light as well. I was excited to realize I was dreaming and almost immediately began losing awareness. Things started going black.
I calmed myself down very slowly and regained my vision. I was now in something more like a really big front yard. I couldn't hold off the loss of awareness by just thinking. So I grabbed a handful of snow. The cold shocked me back into awareness. I packed the snow into a ball. It soon became a warm material, like Styrofoam or cotton.
I began to lose awareness again and fell to my knees. I had to fight to keep awareness. I grabbed onto the branches of some vegetation near me. I had sight again. The vegetation around me was dimply lit with a raspy, white, electric light.
The shrub I held onto had thin branches of greenish yellow, like on a Mormon Tea shrub. I looked closely at the shrub and moved to my right, clinging closely to the vegetation. I came upon another shrub. It had thin branches lightly covered in clover-like leafs which were pale burgundy colored with a thin fringe of dark, dull green.
The sun was now rising and the atmosphere was a dim grey. A bird began calling in a flat, shrill voice. At first I thought the call was from a catbird. But then the bird that had called flew out of the vegetation. The bird was small, like a chickadee. It kept calling shrilly. I realized I had startled it. I had come very close to it and its nest.
The bird flew into a pinon tree behind me. I stood up and looked at the pinon tree. Behind the tree the sky was rippled with silver and white clouds shining chrome-like with sunlight and edged with a metallic orange.
There was no snow on the ground. I was somewhere like a big backyard. I could hear another bird, possibly the first bird's mate, calling a reply, as if to say it would come to protect the nest as well. I kept walking, trying not to cause a fuss, trying to get away from the nest so that the birds would no longer feel like they were in danger.
Dream #1
I stood at the top of a slight hill, on a street corner in a residential suburban neighborhood. It was a winter night, and snow lay on the street and sidewalks.
A small firetruck, like a pickup truck, drove down the hill, to my right. I watched it or heard it lose control. I looked down after it. It had crashed into a barren, even limbless tree, in front of "my mom's house," which was apparently the house my family had lived in during my last years of high school.
The driver got out of the truck. He was a bald, black man. He radioed or phoned someone at his station that he had crashed.
I remembered that the tree in front of my mom's house had been rotting from the inside because of wood-wasps. I ran down the street to warn the fireman that the tree could fall on him if he stood in front of it, now that it had been hit so hard. The snow in the street was knee-deep. I slightly hesitated in warning the man -- I was afraid he'd do something bad to me or accuse me of having done something bad and arrest me.
About halfway down the street I turned around to look back up the hill. At the top of the hill may have been a car with the doors left open. I thought it might be easier for me to get into the car and drive down to warn the man.
I suddenly realized the air was warm. I thought, Wasn't it summer and sweltering hot (in waking life) today? How is it snowing now? And why is the warmth not melting the snow?
I realized I was dreaming. The orange-streetlight atmosphere became tinged with a raspy white light as well. I was excited to realize I was dreaming and almost immediately began losing awareness. Things started going black.
I calmed myself down very slowly and regained my vision. I was now in something more like a really big front yard. I couldn't hold off the loss of awareness by just thinking. So I grabbed a handful of snow. The cold shocked me back into awareness. I packed the snow into a ball. It soon became a warm material, like Styrofoam or cotton.
I began to lose awareness again and fell to my knees. I had to fight to keep awareness. I grabbed onto the branches of some vegetation near me. I had sight again. The vegetation around me was dimply lit with a raspy, white, electric light.
The shrub I held onto had thin branches of greenish yellow, like on a Mormon Tea shrub. I looked closely at the shrub and moved to my right, clinging closely to the vegetation. I came upon another shrub. It had thin branches lightly covered in clover-like leafs which were pale burgundy colored with a thin fringe of dark, dull green.
The sun was now rising and the atmosphere was a dim grey. A bird began calling in a flat, shrill voice. At first I thought the call was from a catbird. But then the bird that had called flew out of the vegetation. The bird was small, like a chickadee. It kept calling shrilly. I realized I had startled it. I had come very close to it and its nest.
The bird flew into a pinon tree behind me. I stood up and looked at the pinon tree. Behind the tree the sky was rippled with silver and white clouds shining chrome-like with sunlight and edged with a metallic orange.
There was no snow on the ground. I was somewhere like a big backyard. I could hear another bird, possibly the first bird's mate, calling a reply, as if to say it would come to protect the nest as well. I kept walking, trying not to cause a fuss, trying to get away from the nest so that the birds would no longer feel like they were in danger.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
(10/30/08) caring for great-grandmother; brahms idol lucidity
(Entered in paper journal at 7:55 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was in the room of an empty (?) apartment. I was there with a couple other people. It was daytime, and bluish, pale light came in through the windows. The floors were dark wood and the walls were brick.
A woman wanted to do something to open a window. She may have wanted to remove the window entirely. I just stood and watched, as if I were too lazy to help, or as if I were afraid of something happening if the window were opened. Another man came up and helped the woman remove the window. It was now night. When I saw how easily the man had removed the window, I felt ashamed for not having helped.
My mom now sat in a big house, talking with someone I couldn't see. The person was like a member of the family, but also like a nurse or someone else carrying out a business duty. The person was telling my mom that my great-grandmother could no longer take care of herself and would need to have a lot of people living with her to take care of her. They would all need to live either in this house or in the house next to or behind it.
Apparently all the people had chosen what house they would live in. I could imagine that the house of their choice would get crowded and dirty rather quickly. But I thought the other house, which everybody regarded as the "second," inferior house, was nicer and more spacious. I thought about its big living room in particular.
Now I sat across from my mom. My mom said, "They're definitely going to need to live in one of the houses. Which house should we live in instead?"
I said, "The second house."
Dream #2
I walked into a building. I might have come into a hotel lobby. I was going to a cattle call for American Idol. I kept walking through a series of hallways. I couldn't find anything. The hallways were all pretty busy, though most people were walking in the opposite direction from me. One person, talking about the line, said, "People are going to be in that thing for a long time."
I was now following a young man. He was about my height, heavier, pale white, with longish, light brown hair. He wore eyeglasses and a maroon shirt. We walked through what appeared to be a number of back hallways and stairwells. I kept wondering why I'd even wanted to come to this audition anyway.
We mostly walked alone. But when we'd emerge in a more frequented hallway we'd meet with some other people. I saw a couple people I knew. One was a shortish, Mexican, boyish-looking woman. She wore black clothes and a black trucker hat that was cocked to the side. She gave me a friendly nudge on the ribs and said hi.
Finally the young man and I walked down a stairwell to meet what was apparently the back of the line for the American Idol audition. The line seemed like it must have reached down a few more flights before extending even farther through a hallway.
The young man called out, "Is this the line for the Brahms symphony?"
A woman who was maybe in her mid-forties, like a mother, but still attractive, blonde, wearing a white sweater and blue jeans, told the young man, "No. But I'm sure if you wait ten or fifteen minutes, this line will clear out, and you'll be able to find the line for the Brahms concert."
I suddenly thought, Why am I in line for this audition at all? I should be in line for the Brahms concert. I got out of line and walked out a door that was at the bottom of the flight of stairs.
I stood in a desert environment. It appeared to be late in the afternoon. I felt a tremendous sense of peace.
Suddenly I realized I was in a dream. I told myself to focus. I started to float up in the air. The area around me was a desert area beside an industrial area or a place like Los Alamos National Laboratory.
I felt like I was starting to fall back out of the dream. I shouted out, "No! I want to stay here! I don't want to go back!"
I told myself that if I just focused I could stay here. I needed to get back down to the ground first. I was barefoot. I told myself that if I could just feel the gravel of the road, that would make everything real for me. I looked around. There were two old soil-mounds that were now growing white and yellow flowers.
I felt myself being pulled backwards, as if I were being physically pulled away.
The building was white, ridged sheet metal. The sky was deep blue, clear, but with deep grey clouds on the horizon. It was a warm day, but a thunderstorm was looming.
I told myself, If I could just feel the warmth of the day, I could make this real, and then I could stay here forever.
Dream #1
I was in the room of an empty (?) apartment. I was there with a couple other people. It was daytime, and bluish, pale light came in through the windows. The floors were dark wood and the walls were brick.
A woman wanted to do something to open a window. She may have wanted to remove the window entirely. I just stood and watched, as if I were too lazy to help, or as if I were afraid of something happening if the window were opened. Another man came up and helped the woman remove the window. It was now night. When I saw how easily the man had removed the window, I felt ashamed for not having helped.
My mom now sat in a big house, talking with someone I couldn't see. The person was like a member of the family, but also like a nurse or someone else carrying out a business duty. The person was telling my mom that my great-grandmother could no longer take care of herself and would need to have a lot of people living with her to take care of her. They would all need to live either in this house or in the house next to or behind it.
Apparently all the people had chosen what house they would live in. I could imagine that the house of their choice would get crowded and dirty rather quickly. But I thought the other house, which everybody regarded as the "second," inferior house, was nicer and more spacious. I thought about its big living room in particular.
Now I sat across from my mom. My mom said, "They're definitely going to need to live in one of the houses. Which house should we live in instead?"
I said, "The second house."
Dream #2
I walked into a building. I might have come into a hotel lobby. I was going to a cattle call for American Idol. I kept walking through a series of hallways. I couldn't find anything. The hallways were all pretty busy, though most people were walking in the opposite direction from me. One person, talking about the line, said, "People are going to be in that thing for a long time."
I was now following a young man. He was about my height, heavier, pale white, with longish, light brown hair. He wore eyeglasses and a maroon shirt. We walked through what appeared to be a number of back hallways and stairwells. I kept wondering why I'd even wanted to come to this audition anyway.
We mostly walked alone. But when we'd emerge in a more frequented hallway we'd meet with some other people. I saw a couple people I knew. One was a shortish, Mexican, boyish-looking woman. She wore black clothes and a black trucker hat that was cocked to the side. She gave me a friendly nudge on the ribs and said hi.
Finally the young man and I walked down a stairwell to meet what was apparently the back of the line for the American Idol audition. The line seemed like it must have reached down a few more flights before extending even farther through a hallway.
The young man called out, "Is this the line for the Brahms symphony?"
A woman who was maybe in her mid-forties, like a mother, but still attractive, blonde, wearing a white sweater and blue jeans, told the young man, "No. But I'm sure if you wait ten or fifteen minutes, this line will clear out, and you'll be able to find the line for the Brahms concert."
I suddenly thought, Why am I in line for this audition at all? I should be in line for the Brahms concert. I got out of line and walked out a door that was at the bottom of the flight of stairs.
I stood in a desert environment. It appeared to be late in the afternoon. I felt a tremendous sense of peace.
Suddenly I realized I was in a dream. I told myself to focus. I started to float up in the air. The area around me was a desert area beside an industrial area or a place like Los Alamos National Laboratory.
I felt like I was starting to fall back out of the dream. I shouted out, "No! I want to stay here! I don't want to go back!"
I told myself that if I just focused I could stay here. I needed to get back down to the ground first. I was barefoot. I told myself that if I could just feel the gravel of the road, that would make everything real for me. I looked around. There were two old soil-mounds that were now growing white and yellow flowers.
I felt myself being pulled backwards, as if I were being physically pulled away.
The building was white, ridged sheet metal. The sky was deep blue, clear, but with deep grey clouds on the horizon. It was a warm day, but a thunderstorm was looming.
I told myself, If I could just feel the warmth of the day, I could make this real, and then I could stay here forever.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
(12/7/08) astral projection over college campus
(Entered in paper journal at 8 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I stood by "my car" in the parking lot of a college campus. I stood before an open field, possibly under the shade of a tree. It was a sunny day. I was looking for one building in particular. It may have been the theater building. I may have seen some yellow trees in the distance.
I began walking across the field, but stopped. I had forgotten something in the car. I may have gone back to the car. At some point I lifted myself into the air. I flew higher and higher, eventually just above the tops of the trees within my sight (there were few trees -- the campus was mostly lawn and complexes of red-brick, new-looking buildings).
I moved toward a complex of buildings near the top, left quadrant of the lawn. Some students were walking along the concrete walkways by the buildings and along the lawn. I moved myself through the air by pointing my (right?) index finger to a coordinate and "pulling down" as if I were scrolling on a computer screen. I was seeing a lot more yellow trees.
As I approached the complex of buildings (which had a concrete courtyard inside its loosely joined area), I became aware that I was doing something extraordinary by flying. I assumed that I was either dreaming or having and out-of-body experience. I thought, Well, then, this experience isn't real. But it felt real, and I thought, Then it must be real in some sense. I thought, Maybe I'm not even flying. Maybe I'm just dreaming of looking at a computer screen. After all, that's what this flying is like. But I felt the atmosphere around me, so I was convinced something about this experience was real.
I got to the other side of the complex. I flew past a modern-looking, slope-roofed building with greenhouse-style windows near the top of the building. I wondered if people would see me. I also wondered if the people walking below had seen me, and how any of them would react. Would they think I was a ghost? Would they be afraid? Would they think I was doing something I wasn't supposed to do? Would they try to pull me down? I now tried not to be seen.
For a moment I lost my ability to fly. I began flying again, approaching the building at the end of the complex. I told myself I had lost the ability to fly because I had started thinking of the complex as an interior, and of whatever was beyond it as an exterior. In my lucid dreams I would often, I told myself, be afraid of approaching exteriors, because I thought of the dreams as products of my imagination, and I'd never believed I had strong enough imagination to produce an entire exterior environment.
But I told myself, This environment all has something real to it. Don't think of it as your imagination. Just relax and go beyond.
I started flying again, high enough to see over the building at the end of the complex. I could see blue sky and green trees. I told myself, There. See? You're seeing things just fine.
But as I approached the last building, I again lost my ability to fly. I dropped quickly, so that I had to grab onto the edge of a roof. I didn't know if I could fly anymore. But I knew I had to get past the complex. I thought I would climb onto the roof, then find some way off the roof, after which I would simply walk beyond the buildings and see what was there. But as I started pulling myself up onto the roof, there was a movement, as if the building were falling over, so that it would crash to the ground and smash me.
But suddenly the building was just a big bookshelf in a bedroom. The bookshelf was empty, pale, unfinished, and had a weird structure on top of it, like the roof of an old, tall house. I wasn't hurt when the bookshelf and I fell to the ground.
I may now have been like a little kid. I thought I should try to stand the building back up. I may have tried, to see if I had the strength. I didn't. But some figure, like a girl-angel, lifted the bookshelf back up for me.
I looked around and thought about something like bugs. I thought I should clean this place up to prevent getting bugs. I then had some weird, distorted visions of simply-drawn cartoon faces.
Dream #1
I stood by "my car" in the parking lot of a college campus. I stood before an open field, possibly under the shade of a tree. It was a sunny day. I was looking for one building in particular. It may have been the theater building. I may have seen some yellow trees in the distance.
I began walking across the field, but stopped. I had forgotten something in the car. I may have gone back to the car. At some point I lifted myself into the air. I flew higher and higher, eventually just above the tops of the trees within my sight (there were few trees -- the campus was mostly lawn and complexes of red-brick, new-looking buildings).
I moved toward a complex of buildings near the top, left quadrant of the lawn. Some students were walking along the concrete walkways by the buildings and along the lawn. I moved myself through the air by pointing my (right?) index finger to a coordinate and "pulling down" as if I were scrolling on a computer screen. I was seeing a lot more yellow trees.
As I approached the complex of buildings (which had a concrete courtyard inside its loosely joined area), I became aware that I was doing something extraordinary by flying. I assumed that I was either dreaming or having and out-of-body experience. I thought, Well, then, this experience isn't real. But it felt real, and I thought, Then it must be real in some sense. I thought, Maybe I'm not even flying. Maybe I'm just dreaming of looking at a computer screen. After all, that's what this flying is like. But I felt the atmosphere around me, so I was convinced something about this experience was real.
I got to the other side of the complex. I flew past a modern-looking, slope-roofed building with greenhouse-style windows near the top of the building. I wondered if people would see me. I also wondered if the people walking below had seen me, and how any of them would react. Would they think I was a ghost? Would they be afraid? Would they think I was doing something I wasn't supposed to do? Would they try to pull me down? I now tried not to be seen.
For a moment I lost my ability to fly. I began flying again, approaching the building at the end of the complex. I told myself I had lost the ability to fly because I had started thinking of the complex as an interior, and of whatever was beyond it as an exterior. In my lucid dreams I would often, I told myself, be afraid of approaching exteriors, because I thought of the dreams as products of my imagination, and I'd never believed I had strong enough imagination to produce an entire exterior environment.
But I told myself, This environment all has something real to it. Don't think of it as your imagination. Just relax and go beyond.
I started flying again, high enough to see over the building at the end of the complex. I could see blue sky and green trees. I told myself, There. See? You're seeing things just fine.
But as I approached the last building, I again lost my ability to fly. I dropped quickly, so that I had to grab onto the edge of a roof. I didn't know if I could fly anymore. But I knew I had to get past the complex. I thought I would climb onto the roof, then find some way off the roof, after which I would simply walk beyond the buildings and see what was there. But as I started pulling myself up onto the roof, there was a movement, as if the building were falling over, so that it would crash to the ground and smash me.
But suddenly the building was just a big bookshelf in a bedroom. The bookshelf was empty, pale, unfinished, and had a weird structure on top of it, like the roof of an old, tall house. I wasn't hurt when the bookshelf and I fell to the ground.
I may now have been like a little kid. I thought I should try to stand the building back up. I may have tried, to see if I had the strength. I didn't. But some figure, like a girl-angel, lifted the bookshelf back up for me.
I looked around and thought about something like bugs. I thought I should clean this place up to prevent getting bugs. I then had some weird, distorted visions of simply-drawn cartoon faces.
Friday, November 16, 2012
(9/27/09) struggle for lucidity; the murakami bug
Dream #1
I opened my eyes in my bedroom. The bedroom was dark, and my vision was a bit staticky. I realized that my lights were off, which wasn't usual for my room. (Due to some problems with paranoia, I'd slept with my lights on from about July of 2009 through about the end of 2010.)
I realized I was dreaming. I became lucid. But I immediately began losing my dream. Everything faded into blackness, as if I had closed my eyes. I told myself to open my eyes again. It took an immense effort. But when my eyes began to open, my dream-vision smeared out before me, as if I were speeding through a tunnel the walls of which were made of my dream-bedroom.
I now had my eyes open in my bedroom, with the lights on. I was awake. (I may actually have been awake at this point.) I lay on my back and looked up to the ceiling, my head half-covered by m blanket. I fell into a numbed state and thought I was probably on the verge of sleeping and dreaming again. At some point the lights may even have gone out in my room.
I told myself, Well, you can't get back to the lucid dream you were having. But perhaps if you're in this state, you can push yourself into another lucid dream, or even an out of body experience, an astral projection. I told myself to concentrate. I "concentrated" intensely, almost viciously.
I felt a rushing (downward or upward?) sensation in my body. I felt like closed-eye purple electrodes had attached to my body to pull me upward. I felt like I was scowling, teeth bared, to pull myself upward, out of my body. I thought, I'm doing it!
Everything went black. (I may have woken up and then gone back to sleep for another dream.) I lay in my bedroom and opened my eyes again. The room was dark, swimming with staticky orgone eyebugs. I told myself, You're dreaming again. Get up this time.
I was suddenly standing, at the foot of where I had been laying, my blanket crumpled up like a cocoon at my feet. I ma have thought of myself as wearing a grey robe, being all grey myself, and even wearing a head covering, like a woman in a Giotto painting portraying Jesus' life might wear.
I lost my energy or my focus again. My eyes closed. I told myself to open them, not to lose my dream. I succeeded in doing this, but almost immediately afterward, the scene became increasingly staticky, maybe even grey-white, and I lost my dream.
Dream #2
I was in a big room with a couple other people. My mother may possibly have been among the people. The room may have been a mix between something like a hallway in an airport terminal and a nice, wood-walled library in a mansion. Natural light came in from a window to the right, the window possibly almost as tall and wide as the wall itself.
On the left wall was a platform that ran along the entire wall, lifted up maybe three feet from the rest of the floor, with railing -- structured almost like the moving walkway conveyor belts at airports, but, again, with touches of wood, carpeting, etc., that made it look like something in a mansion. I stood on that platform, probably with my mother.
We had found a small bug and were now having to dispose of it. The bug was almost beetle shaped, but with a much more distinct, rounder head, almost half the size of its body. The bug's color was a pale-copper brown, dappled with a pale-brown, almost like a pale version of the color on a sunflower seed's shell. We grabbed up the bug in a napkin and tossed it into (or toward?) a trashcan.
My mother walked away, down the long hallway. In some way, it felt like she was walking from one wing of the NYPL Rose Main Reading Room to the other. The other two women (???) may also have been gone now.
I noticed that the bug hadn't gone into the trashcan after all. I saw it wandering around on the floor. I picked it up (it was maybe three quarters of an inch long) to throw it away. But now, panicked, not wanting to be thrown away, the bug grew thin, green, vegetation-like tendrils out of itself. These tendrils grew long and coiled themselves around. They grew little leafs or thorns, so that the bug almost looked decorated with something out of a work by Takashi Murakami.
I tried to throw the bug into the white trash bag, but I couldn't: the tendrils stuck to me like sticky stalks of weeds. I tried to shake the bug off me. The tendrils now coiled all around my hands, and the "leafs" (if they ever had been leafs) were now soft thorns sticking into my skin. (During all this, I noticed that I was wearing white, latex gloves.) I finally somehow managed to shake the Murakami-bug off my hands.
The bug didn't go all the way into the trash. It clung to the side of the bag, near the mouth of the trashcan, its tendrils sprawling out like uncoiled wire, threatening to spring back out of the can by the energy of their own tension. I thought I'd have to be ready for that.
I now walked down the platform, possibly following after the women. I looked at my hands. I noticed that I had cuts on my hands from where the little thorns had dug in. At first the cuts seemed small, just like little scratches. But then I saw that some of the cuts, especially around the knuckles at the base of my fingers, cut all the way to the bone.
I looked into one of these cuts and saw something beneath that looked like firm, porous tofu. It sickened me to see that, but I told myself not to worry about it. It's fat, I think, I told myself. Your friends have told about seeing that before, when they'd broken their bones or cut themselves really deeply. So don't worry about it.
I may now have met up with a few of my friends, possibly from my old improv comedy team from college. My friends all sat in an airport-like seating area that also looked like part of a mansion. My friends might have regarded me like I was a joke, not to be taken seriously, and then gone back to whatever their conversation had been.
I opened my eyes in my bedroom. The bedroom was dark, and my vision was a bit staticky. I realized that my lights were off, which wasn't usual for my room. (Due to some problems with paranoia, I'd slept with my lights on from about July of 2009 through about the end of 2010.)
I realized I was dreaming. I became lucid. But I immediately began losing my dream. Everything faded into blackness, as if I had closed my eyes. I told myself to open my eyes again. It took an immense effort. But when my eyes began to open, my dream-vision smeared out before me, as if I were speeding through a tunnel the walls of which were made of my dream-bedroom.
I now had my eyes open in my bedroom, with the lights on. I was awake. (I may actually have been awake at this point.) I lay on my back and looked up to the ceiling, my head half-covered by m blanket. I fell into a numbed state and thought I was probably on the verge of sleeping and dreaming again. At some point the lights may even have gone out in my room.
I told myself, Well, you can't get back to the lucid dream you were having. But perhaps if you're in this state, you can push yourself into another lucid dream, or even an out of body experience, an astral projection. I told myself to concentrate. I "concentrated" intensely, almost viciously.
I felt a rushing (downward or upward?) sensation in my body. I felt like closed-eye purple electrodes had attached to my body to pull me upward. I felt like I was scowling, teeth bared, to pull myself upward, out of my body. I thought, I'm doing it!
Everything went black. (I may have woken up and then gone back to sleep for another dream.) I lay in my bedroom and opened my eyes again. The room was dark, swimming with staticky orgone eyebugs. I told myself, You're dreaming again. Get up this time.
I was suddenly standing, at the foot of where I had been laying, my blanket crumpled up like a cocoon at my feet. I ma have thought of myself as wearing a grey robe, being all grey myself, and even wearing a head covering, like a woman in a Giotto painting portraying Jesus' life might wear.
I lost my energy or my focus again. My eyes closed. I told myself to open them, not to lose my dream. I succeeded in doing this, but almost immediately afterward, the scene became increasingly staticky, maybe even grey-white, and I lost my dream.
Dream #2
I was in a big room with a couple other people. My mother may possibly have been among the people. The room may have been a mix between something like a hallway in an airport terminal and a nice, wood-walled library in a mansion. Natural light came in from a window to the right, the window possibly almost as tall and wide as the wall itself.
On the left wall was a platform that ran along the entire wall, lifted up maybe three feet from the rest of the floor, with railing -- structured almost like the moving walkway conveyor belts at airports, but, again, with touches of wood, carpeting, etc., that made it look like something in a mansion. I stood on that platform, probably with my mother.
We had found a small bug and were now having to dispose of it. The bug was almost beetle shaped, but with a much more distinct, rounder head, almost half the size of its body. The bug's color was a pale-copper brown, dappled with a pale-brown, almost like a pale version of the color on a sunflower seed's shell. We grabbed up the bug in a napkin and tossed it into (or toward?) a trashcan.
My mother walked away, down the long hallway. In some way, it felt like she was walking from one wing of the NYPL Rose Main Reading Room to the other. The other two women (???) may also have been gone now.
I noticed that the bug hadn't gone into the trashcan after all. I saw it wandering around on the floor. I picked it up (it was maybe three quarters of an inch long) to throw it away. But now, panicked, not wanting to be thrown away, the bug grew thin, green, vegetation-like tendrils out of itself. These tendrils grew long and coiled themselves around. They grew little leafs or thorns, so that the bug almost looked decorated with something out of a work by Takashi Murakami.
I tried to throw the bug into the white trash bag, but I couldn't: the tendrils stuck to me like sticky stalks of weeds. I tried to shake the bug off me. The tendrils now coiled all around my hands, and the "leafs" (if they ever had been leafs) were now soft thorns sticking into my skin. (During all this, I noticed that I was wearing white, latex gloves.) I finally somehow managed to shake the Murakami-bug off my hands.
The bug didn't go all the way into the trash. It clung to the side of the bag, near the mouth of the trashcan, its tendrils sprawling out like uncoiled wire, threatening to spring back out of the can by the energy of their own tension. I thought I'd have to be ready for that.
I now walked down the platform, possibly following after the women. I looked at my hands. I noticed that I had cuts on my hands from where the little thorns had dug in. At first the cuts seemed small, just like little scratches. But then I saw that some of the cuts, especially around the knuckles at the base of my fingers, cut all the way to the bone.
I looked into one of these cuts and saw something beneath that looked like firm, porous tofu. It sickened me to see that, but I told myself not to worry about it. It's fat, I think, I told myself. Your friends have told about seeing that before, when they'd broken their bones or cut themselves really deeply. So don't worry about it.
I may now have met up with a few of my friends, possibly from my old improv comedy team from college. My friends all sat in an airport-like seating area that also looked like part of a mansion. My friends might have regarded me like I was a joke, not to be taken seriously, and then gone back to whatever their conversation had been.
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