many dreams, many awakenings (and now I feel tired)
Level of Lucidity:
Level of Cohesiveness:
Rating:
Lucid Intent? Yes Lucid Technique: Other
This dream has been viewed 155 times.
People all recognize the cartoon covers I used to do for the church bulletin back when I was in boarding academy. (Dream) memory tells me I did some really outrageous ones, yet they would pass them out for all those church services anyway and I never got in trouble (IRL I did draw some of the covers for the bulletins, but they were all very serious). Now, there’s kind of an awkward silence and I realize my old classmates are wondering just HOW did those covers make it onto the church bulletins. There’s one picture I did of the river going over a dam and I say, “Yeah, I remember doing that one!” Again, a dream memory, because I not only never drew such a picture, but as we’re looking at it the pencil drawing itself is animated and the water is moving. We turn the page and there is another picture of a waterfall and I say that I didn’t do that one, because it’s in color. At least for that one I feel very certain about it.
Then I’m squeezed in a car going to church with these women and their daughters. Some of them are plucking the eyebrows of the matriarch of the family with tweezers, and the dream shifts so that I become her, and I have my eyes shut while I can feel the stray hairs being plucked out.
(wake up, record, fall back to sleep)
A butterfly is on top of a tree that has no leaves, and a giraffe can’t eat because the tree is bare. The title below this image is, “The butterfly effect: the time has come.” (There’s a meaning in this dream somewhere, I just don’t see it).
(wake up, record, fall back to sleep)
I’m making the edges of clouds shift and I think that if I can do that, I can fix other problems in the world. My coworker, S___, is crying because she has just told me that research is her life goal for a career and she doesn’t know what she’s doing in this other field. She wants to go work on lab studies of a certain molecule. Trying to comfort her, I say, “I can go with you.” (IRL both of us are having terrible times with our two supervisors.)
(wake up, record, fall back to sleep)
I wake up with this name in my head: “Samuel Wochashnier.” (A google search only turned up the word, “womanizer.”)
(record, fall back to sleep)
There’s a gyroscopic invention for paraplegics. It’s working for this guy, his legs are moving up and down as he sits on the end of his bed. It has four arms to it and wobbles a little in the air, and is attached to his quadriceps.
I become lucid and pick up some weights in order to push through a locked door, but the door turns into a wall. Even more lucid, I just walk right through it. I’m going to the movies with Mom and S; but the cohesion becomes very low, and Mom keeps fading out.
I see S____ teaching some kids through a window, in a garden. No longer lucid, I go in the church where a movie will play, but I can’t find Mom. I panic.
(wake up, record, fall back to sleep)
A miserable, horrible dream where I could not get out of a foggy, heavy state of mind. I kept trying to think of ways to snap out of it, but I just couldn’t do it. Forgot all the details of the dream.
(wake up, record, fall back to sleep)
A long dream that ends with a “THUMP!” I ask if it would help if I would be afraid during dreams like this, but no one answers. The story line is that this murderous serial killer has escaped because we showed him mercy during his trial, and now he’s living in the sewers causing awful murder and mayhem. He blows up a bunch of commuter busses full of people. He regains the trust of the kid he tried to kill by sending secret texts to him. He does more truly awful things, like blowing up firetrucks with firemen in them, and burning down houses before the people can get out. I finally find his hideout, a small indentation in the wall of an underground sewer.
(wake up, heart is pounding, record, fall back to sleep)
I’m made aware that the creature/woman with a lot of facial hair has been captured. She seems normal to me, but I don’t realize that my mindset is in another dimension … until I fade back into mine.
I realize the people here don’t care about saving her. That doesn’t seem right to me.
I go around the nightclub scene in Boston and am bored. I find someone playing pool and that at least doesn’t seem so boring to me, and it’s social, but I’m not very good at it. I think of going to museums with groups of people. Now that would be social, I think. Clubs are so boring, you can’t even hear what people are saying.
I wake up.
