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Dream Journal

Collected Dreams from the Past Week

In the dream I’m blogging — here, on ori.nz — and see that the URL permalink reads 10-2. I have an intense come-up feeling as I become something like lucid.


Pax Imperia, little cute solar systems. I see my homeslice Mickey B. I’d later realize this dream was very close to a ninth-grade fantasy I’d had while first starting to lucid dream, that we’d be able to play realistic space games together while we slept.


Dressed in a pair of tiny cute skivvies, I’m hopping from boat to boat in a crowded harbor marina. I get inside a spacious empty ferryboat filled with rows of low-slung benches, the windows and walls are clear plastic. Jumping from public bathroom to plain basic houseboat, battening the hatches. Off in the distance there’s a massive wave, a wave the size of a mountain. Later, I’d recall another dream of being in that massive wave — no sign of a harbor in that dream. Also, another dream many years ago where I scubaed alongside a whale.


J’aime Andrade, a member of color guard in my high school marching band, showed up in cool convertible with a few of her friends. Post-gothy aesthetic. They were having a blast and lifted my spirits.

(this night I meditated in bed before sleep for an hour…)

  • I’m on the phone, giving my friend Reecy directions while she’s in Germany
  • Lorelei is having a second baby, I’m very happy for her but unfortunately it wasn’t her life plan. Later I’m walking along the outside of a rounded fence near an abandoned area, I accidentally re-dial her and am embarrassed.
  • A biplane crashes just outside the Fartpartment, it’s an excuse for me to leave and wander the streets, and become lucid.
  • I stare at the beautiful horizon, receding infinitely into the distance, lucid but unimpressed with reality and the dream. It’s unimportant to me.

In a darkened apartment I’m with an elegant Greco-Roman topless statue of Sabrina W. Who should wander in, but Sabrina! She makes a show of approving of the work, and I find myself speechless (once again) in her presence.

Last day: I run into my nana under my apartment stairs, she finds me hiding a water bottle. Somehow that bottle is evidence of murder, but not one I had anything to do with — I just don’t want the creepy water bottle anymore. My nana gets me to put it someplace it could be found later, in the basement.

Categories
Dream Journal

Dream of Stephan Colbert’s House

Stephan Colbert is a teacher, has a golf course house on a hill. The house has streetcar tracks leading up to it. Then old tracks are buried due to the very steep slope. His neighbors, who live on opposite hills like in the Palm Springs mountains, shoot golf balls at him. But the golf balls are actually small fighter jets that get shot down by his fighter jets. If you think normal aviation is expensive, try repairing ridiculously tiny planes that have been shot at, in mid-air.

Categories
Dream Journal

Stress of Underage Pilot, College Homework

See this picture of a girl who I had hung out with and may have slept with, someone showed it to me. She was hanging out of a Cessna airplane, in some abandoned public building like a pool. I was horrified to discover that the picture, taken that summer while I was with her, showed that she seemed 15.


I didn’t complete my homework for my Psychology of Stress or Neuroscience classes, and I failed them. I felt like I was just a bad person.


I was different and special because I could dissociate and perceive things from outside my perspective. Part of that was my nitrous practice.