I became the replacement for my uncle killed in the war
Level of Lucidity:
Level of Cohesiveness:
Rating:
Lucid Intent? Yes Lucid Technique: Other
This dream has been viewed 164 times.
I can see right through the entire length of my pinky finger, looking through where it meets my hand on the palm side, and with my pinky bent at a right angle. There’s only glasslike skin covering the cavity at the palm end, and a transparent layer of cartilage at the fingertip. I’m horrified, thinking that this is what all those years of knuckle-cracking have brought me (IRL I do have a problem with that habit). I wonder how the arthritis progressed so quickly without me noticing.
(wake up, heart is pounding, record, takes a long time to fall back to sleep)
I’m at P___ College and we’re watching the same computer animation from the beginning of the dream (although now I don’t remember seeing it in the beginning, or even anything about how it started at all). It’s incredibly detailed — it shows a view of the whole campus. Then, one (dream) memory pops into my head and I say, “Look, there’s the hall we used to listen to lectures in!” (After I woke up, I remembered that in real life there was never a building at that location on the campus).
We end up in L____, but the streets are different. Then UFOs go flying by. We go inside a house. I say, “I remember now, we owned this house.”
In a second the glass of the windows become completely covered with cardboard so we can’t see out. That makes me lucid, wondering what dream mechanism is reacting to the statements I’m making. I open my mouth to say more, but I lose all strength and fall over. Nevertheless, I manage to shout, “Robert Louis Stevenson!” and I start to feel like I’m losing consciousness completely.
But I shake my head back and forth and wake up.
(record, fall back to sleep)
M____ and her daughter are near an elevated sidewalk and we see a distorted rainbow through the glass around it. Someone is singing about Santa Claus and destroying “Abraham’s arches,” while these Easter Island-like sculptures blow up somewhat realistically in the distance (so realistically that I’m not clued in that this is a dream). The guy singing is a former movie star who now has such bloodshot eyes that his retinas keep reflecting back red and his pupils are so dilated that his eyes look COMPLETELY red.
On the ceiling are dusty paintings of the presidents, Warren G. Harding and Abraham Lincoln.
(wake up, record, fall back to sleep)
In front of a house, I feel a lucid dream is stale because I’ve been sleeping too long.
Then, with others in a car, I have one of us be a ghost because there’s not enough room in the car. I give myself some kind of superpower injection and I push a boat along telekinetically. Then I pass a black navy destroyer with radar dishes. The others say they may fire on us, but I pass it without incident. I’m headed for an island of black sand in the middle of a lake.
(shift) Dad is arguing with me, insisting I had replaced Uncle A__ (his brother) in this timeline because A____ died so meaninglessly in World War II (the latter was true in real life, it was a fluke accident that killed him in the Pacific Theater).
I wake up.
