Laid down: 2:21 A.M.
Got up about 6 A.M.
Remembered no dreams.
Layed back down for a nap about 9 A.M.
Awoke about 10:15 A.M.
Lucid much of the time.
Dream diary wasn't around so I used the digital recorder. I might try to transcribe later, but here's a summary ----
I'm fighting with J_______. I start to suspect I'm dreaming. I say to myself "If I'm dreaming I should be able to burn a hole in the wooden railing for the stairs" So I hold out my right hand and start concentrating. Some sort of liquid starts spraying out my palm in a very focused stream and starts burning a hole in the wood. The wood is smoldering, smoking, and melting, but it doesn't catch on fire. The railing turns into a thick wooden table. The wood starts washing away as the stream from my palm grows stronger. The wood is very grainy.
I'm now convinced this has to be a dream so I turn to J_______. I'm still mad. I know it's a dream, but I'm still mad. I decide I need to get away from this scene, J_______ tries to stop me. She has a handsome young doctor there to help stop me. He's in a white lab coat. His hair is dark with a short cut ---- more military than doctor.
I make a gesture and this burning liquid sprays up and out of my palm in a mist. It all comes down on the doctor. He is in pain and is rubbing his eyes. He sais he needs to get out.
Iam relieved he's OK. Again, I know it's a dream, but I'm relieved nonetheless. I have the thought that encouraging or allowing aggression in this situation is a bad thing -- even in a dream.
The doc and I walk outside. I WOOSH off into the sky.
When I come down a few seconds later I'm at what looks like a university. It's evening and kids are milling about. I'm walking around looking for anything interesting. I wake up in bed. I move around a bit in bed and think about getting up and looking for my dream diary, but decide I should try getting back to the dream.
A few seconds later I see the same university scene as before. I walk up stone steps and into a building. Actors are preparing for a play --- Calderon's "Life is a Dream". This makes me chuckle.
I try to stay with this scene, but keep waking and re-entering the dream. While at the university I flew around a lot and glided about a foot off the surface of the ground.
I think to myself I should attempt something cool. I decide I should attempt to predict the next numbers in the Arizona PowerBall. I grab a pen and slip of paper and speak aloud, "The first winning number in the next Arizona PowerBall is..." and I waited. I repeated this several times with slightly different wording.
Finally I break down and say "I'm expecting to see a number I can use in the PowerBall drawing"
Seconds later there are numbers everywhere. They're on furniture, written on clothing, the floor, everywhere.
I get the idea to ask one of the actors in the play. Now I recognize him from an Old Navy commercial on TV, but I didn't recognize him at the time of dreaming. I ask the actor for PowerBall numbers and he tells me he already had some prepared and reaches into his button-up shirt and pulls out a stiff sheet of paper about half the size of a newspaper ---- how in th world? Oh yeah, I'm dreaming.
I realize that writing these numbers down in the dream does no good and gamble that I'm going to forget most of the dreaming I've done so far (correct -- there was just too much) so I need to find a way to get these numbers to the waking world.
I wake up again and there's a pencil and blue 1-subject spiral bound notebook nearby. I set up the notebook so I can write while still in the dream and I nod off once more. I decipther the actor's writing and copy the numbers to my notebook precariously --- carefully so as to not wake up too soon. Finally I have a full set of numbers and wake myself with notebook in hand. Then it occurs to me -------------------
Idon't use notebooks like that near the bed!
How insidious! How many were real and how many were false awakenings? That explains why I was able to get back to the same scene so easily.
P.S. The PowerBall is 31
No comments:
Post a Comment