Snacks from the Butler's Pantry

[Sunshine]

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[dallyup52]

I tried to find Nina again, but she had transformed into her sister.  I recognized that threatening, creepy look in her eyes.  I knew she was an impostor who wanted to somehow trap me in the dream.  I had a half empty bottle of rootbeer in my hand that I had found in the office.  I was holding onto it to keep the dream stable.  Nina's sister was talking non-stop, trying to distract me and make me lose my lucidity.  I knew my expectations were the only thing making the situation feel scary.  I tried to think of something funny that would change the feel of the dream.  I reached over, and dumped the rootbeer down the front of her pants, laughing.  It just made her more aggressive and monstrous. 

Who'd of thought?

I tried to think of pleasant thoughts to keep this from turning into a nightmare, knowing that it was too late.  She went from threatening to aggressive, and started to grab me with her creepy witch hands.

The whole dream is very cool.  This part in particular to me.  IRL are you working with Aquinina?  Seeing the look in her eyes so clearly.  Does her sister have creepy witchy hands?

[Robot_Butler]

Your DC's turn bad sometimes too.  That sucked, especially how it caused you to be hurt when you broke the bottle.  That was weird.

Yeah, It felt like I was somehow smacking myself in the mouth.  I have a lot of dreams about getting hit in the mouth. I knocked out my front teeth a few years ago, and I think it really stuck with me. 

Who'd of thought?

You know, I was camping this weekend, and we were talking about breaking a bottle in half to stab someone like they do in the movies.  I made the motion with my beer, before realizing there was still some left in the bottom.  I splashed it everywhere.  And some girls were drinking rootbeer earlier in the day.  I guess thats where that all came from.

IRL are you working with Aquinina?  Seeing the look in her eyes so clearly.  Does her sister have creepy witchy hands?

I've never met Aquanina in real life.  I'm sure her sister has lovely hands...If she even has a sister.  I've seen Nina's artwork, though, and she could come work with me anytime.  I think I remember her saying she worked for an Architecture firm for a little while doing renderings.  Maybe I have some guilt about never volunteering any design work for MM or DV, like she does.

[Robot_Butler]

My best friend had betrayed me. To get back at him, I broke into his house to pull some pranks Amelie style. Walking around his house, seeing all his personal belongings, I started to have second thoughts. I decided I should be the better person, and not seek revenge. The next day, the news came to me that he had foreclosed on his mortgage. The bank was auctioning off his house and all his belongings.

I attended the auction, and bought his favorite antique desk for a fraction of it's value. I hauled it back to my garage, and started sanding off the finish with a power sander. The look on his face was priceless when he saw me destroying his most prized possession. Little did he know, I was actually going to refinish it and give it back to him.

Sanding the beast took some time. It seemed like the more I sanded, the bigger the desk became. More sides kept appearing. More nooks and crannies that I had missed. At one point, I realized I was sanding the rubberized handle of a stapler that was in the desk drawer. I followed one of the long table legs, and realized it turned into an ornate railing for a huge staircase. This was going to take longer than I thought!

I started clearing away an area around the stairs so I would not get sawdust on all my stuff. At the top of the stairs, I found a small box with a huge centipede in it. It was terrible looking. It was at least a foot long, and had a grotesque head shaped like a lobster claw. It was stuck in the box, and was slowly wiggling it's poisonous claw-head around trying to free itself. Not wanting to touch it with my bare hands, I ran into the bedroom to find something I could use to scoop it up. I found a decorated paper bag in a pile of Christmas wrapping paper. When I opened it, I realized there were more centipedes inside. They looked like flattened scorpions, with long centipede necks that ended in sharp claw heads. They were spilling all over the floor, as I scrambled to scoop them up without getting bitten. They kept multiplying, and soon there were baby centipede-scorpions everywhere.

"Screw this!" I yelled out loud, frustrated. I vaulted over the guard rail, and slid down the banister on my feet. Halfway down, I leaped into the air and spread my arms out to either side. My arms sprouted feathers and flattened into eagle wings. I tucked my legs beneath me, folding my knees into my chest, and extending my toes into long bird talons. I glided down towards an open door, and out into the sunlight.

I beat my wings, and lifted into the air to turn over in an exhilarating high loop. Coming down from the loop, I thought for a second to remember what I wanted to do. I remembered the Dream Views task of the month to taste something intangible. I ended my loop a few feet off the ground, hovering near a stone lamp post at the foot of a driveway. I reached out toward the red stone with my human hand, and tried to draw the color off of it. A cloud of dark red dust lifted off the surface, and covered my fingers like dust from a terracotta conte crayon. I brought my fingers to my lips and licked them. They tasted gritty and earthy, like clay. "This is what red must tase like," I thought to myself.

Not satisfied with this result, I looked up to the beautiful blue sky above me. I was amazed at how clear my environment was, and how far I could see in all directions. I floated upward, towards the beautiful clear sky. I had to get above the shadows of the surrounding buildings. As I floated upward, I saw the sun crest the roof of the nearest house. As it appeared, I opened my mouth wide to suck in it's brilliant light. I immediately had the sensation of my mouth filling with something. I could feel pressure on my tongue, like opening your mouth while under water. It tasted leafy, like cooked spinach. I thought to myself, "I must be tasting my own chlorophyll, like a plant."

The light from the sun was blinding me no matter how much I squinted. I instinctively closed my eyes for a second to block out it's bright light. As soon as my eyes shut, I found myself back in bed.

[dallyup52]

Great snack  thanks

[Sunshine]

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[Robot_Butler]

I am working pest control with my stepfather's company.  We are releasing a raccoon from a trap, when I notice that it's leg is broken.  I tell my stepfather's father (step-grandfather?) that we have to take it home and nurse it back to health.  He disagrees, saying he will release it into the wild ten miles from here, and it will heal naturally.  The poor animal's bone is clearly jutting out from it's front leg in a bloody mess.  My step-grandfather is lying to me, and I know he's going to kill the animal as soon as he has it out of my sight.

When I get the animal safely into the cabin, I realize it is actually a baby sun bear, not a raccoon.  I resolutely decide to care for this rare and loveable baby no matter what.  When I get it out of the cage, I realize I am mistaken again, it is actually a baby gorilla.  It has a massive chest, and long spindly arms and legs.  It must be some sort of fragile tiny monkey baby. It's long arms almost look like tentacles.  I carry the tiny thing out of the house in the palm of my hand.

An incredibly beautiful topless black woman is sunbathing at the pool.  She takes a look at my new pet, and tells me I need to create a home for it.  My little brother gives me one of his empty toy boxes to use as a cage and home.  Remembering that raccoons carry a deadly brain parasite, I run back inside to wash my hands.  The bar of soap is impossible to see because it blends in perfectly with the wall tile.  Instead, I use a small travel bottle of shampoo.

When I return, I find my baby looks more alien than ever.  It is a beautiful glowing creature made of tentacles.  Unlike a sea creature, it looks very touchable and soft.  I cradle it in the palm of my hand, and loosely close my fingers around it.  It begins to spin, tickling my fingers with it's soft feathery limbs.  It spins so fast, it begins to hum, and fills me with an incredible sense of love and inspiration.

I take it inside to show my family.  My brother's ex-girlfriend peeks into my hand, and says, "Oh, you have an Ouroboros."  I reply, "I never knew you were so good at dream interpretation.  You must be some kind of genius."

The Ouroboros is the famous symbol of a snake devouring it's own tail.  The serpent, a symbol representing fear, feeds off itself.  The fear that the creature inspires in others also sustains it.  The creature in my hand is a monster that feeds off of the fear it inspires in others.  The reason I feel only love for it, is because it has consumed all my fear, leaving nothing left to make me feel any emotion.  It is an infinite loop.

I take the creature outside, and speak to it in my hand, "This is the perfect place to feed you all the fear you could ever want.  Let's give you enough to break the cycle, and let you grow to your full potential."

I try to summon up all the fear I have ever experienced.  I don't imagine anything specific, only the memory of the raw emotion.  Immediately, the ground begins to shake and the dream darkens.  In the distance, I see gigantic creatures lumbering out of a mist.  Even from the distance, they tower over their surroundings, standing hundreds of feet tall.  Their heads disappear into the clouds above, like skyscrapers on a foggy day.  There are dozens of them, and they are raining down destruction on everything in their path.  They destroy whole cities in a single stroke, and I feel the earth splitting and breaking beneath them.  It feels like every disaster I have ever experienced.  The ground beneath my feet feels like it could give away at any second. The air is whipping around me, trying to knock me to my knees.

I feel the worst terror I have ever experienced, and want it to stop.  The sensations are too real, and I can't distract myself from them enough to change the scene around me.  Everywhere I turn, I see more of the monsters, coming closer every time.  I turn to my mother standing next to me, and say, "Ok, this is enough fear, now how do I stop it?"  I know as soon as I look at her.   I start swinging my head from side to side, trying to get the monsters out of my vision while focusing on a peaceful image of a calm white sand beach.

When I finally manage to get the terrible images out of my field of vision, my eyes lock on a picturesque scene of a peaceful coastline with a lighthouse.  There is a rocky path down to the water, and a friendly visitor center filled with smiling and laughing people.  I walk towards the visitor center, still clutching my pet in my hand.  It is whirling faster than ever, and I need to use the restroom very badly.  Those monsters literally scared the piss out of me!

I enter the restroom, and stand over the toilet.  I'm afraid to put down my pet.  He is twirling so fast, I fear he will shoot off in any direction if I let him go.  There must be something to fear here.  Something he is feeding off of.  I look around, and see two girls using the stall at the end of the men's room.  One is acting as a lookout, while the other crouches over the toilet.  I think this girl must be afraid of being discovered.

Satisfied, I put my pet in my pocket, but he keeps spinning against my jeans.  I feel heat from the friction, and fear he will burn a hole right through my pants.  I lift one leg up high to stretch the denim against his body.  This slows him down, but makes it impossible for me to aim at the toilet.  Two men stand on either side of me, uncomfortably close.  One of them pees on my shoe on purpose, taunting me.  I reach over, pick him up by the face with with one hand, and carry him outside.  I throw him against the wall, and punch him hard in the neck.  He laughs, and I realize he is a meaningless distraction.  I join in his laughter, and reach into my pocket to retrieve my pet.  I leave the man standing against the wall, laughing.

I join my friend and her husband at a picnic table.  I place my pet on the table, and he opens up his feathery limbs to a brilliant white light.  We all laugh at the joyfullness of the light.  My friend laughs so hard, her breasts pop out of her top.  I playfully pretend to cover my eyes while she tries to cover up.

[iadr]

That's quite a dream Robot.  And it all started out with a raccoon that turned into a bear, and then a gorilla, and then that spinning thing that you put in your pocket.   

[Sunshine]

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[Robot_Butler]

That's quite a dream Robot.  And it all started out with a raccoon that turned into a bear, and then a gorilla, and then that spinning thing that you put in your pocket.   

I think all your raccoon dreams started it off.  And my comment about you facing your raccoon fears seems to be too coincidental.  Of course, it has to degenerate into a bizarre creature feature.  That just seems to be how my mind works, especially once I become lucid.

Wow, that was a really cool dream.  The summoning of all the fear, that sounded incredible. 

I almost asked, so what was that thing, really?

I'm just glad I didn't wake up immediately after the fear, or I probably would have been crying.  It was pretty awful.  I think I'll check that one off my lucid task list and never go back. 

I just made a new piece of artwork last week that hangs over my bed.  It was definitely the inspiration for the dream creature.  I'll see if I can get a photo of it turn out alright.  It is sort of a 3D negative space cutout that heavily relies on the room's lighting, and the texture/color of the wall behind, like a shadow box.  I don't think it will make sense by the time I digitize it, but who cares.

[Robot_Butler]

I know I've been absent lately.  I took a break for a few days to recover from being sick.  I decided I needed some 'dead' sleep time.  Now I'm back into the swing of recalling multiple dreams every night.  I've been having these strangely semi-lucid dreams for the past week or two. Here's a good...bad example.  Just boring, but lucid in its own way:

My girlfriend's father accidentally bought two clear plastic waste baskets, instead of just one. He gave me the spare. I took a hammer to it, smashing it into tiny shards. I had the idea that I could use these crystal-like shards to help me focus, thus making me more lucid.

I got a plastic bag, and returned to try and gather up all the shattered pieces of plastic. They were buried under slides of old family photos piled up on top of the floor. I had to dig through thousands of these slides to find the mess I had made. When I finally found the shattered crystals on the floor, I started eating them like rock candy. They tasted like flavorless sugar crystals. Just sickly sweet. I needed a glass of water to wash them down.

In the kitchen, I saw my girlfriend's step mom was making a pizza. The small pizza was cooking directly on one burner of the stove. It was bouncing up and down from the heat, like the lid to a boiling pot of water. As I watched, it bounced especially high, and flipped upside down, so the melted cheese was all over the burner and gas flame. I could smell it burning.  Before I could do anything, she came in, and started scraping the pizza off the stove and onto a wet frying pan. She didn't seem to mind that it was horribly burned, torn, and messy.

"Go get me some plates! She demanded." I reached into the space in front of me, and plucked one from thin air. It was a porcelain plate with a autumn leaf pattern around the border. My girlfriend's step mom slopped some of the burned pizza mess onto it, and then looked at me in disgust, "I want the paper plates, unless you are planning on doing dishes tonight?" I reached into the empty air in front of me, and produced another matching porcelain plate. I replied, "We can throw these away when we are done with them, they don't really exist." She didn't seem to understand, so I explained that I was stealing them from the astral realm to bring into this dream, so they didn't really exist.

She didn't believe me, and thought it was some kind of trick. She challenged me, "Prove it by getting something that can't be faked. I want an antique wooden dog sled." I thought of her request, and heard the doorbell ring. She opened the door, and saw an ornately carved antique wooden rocking horse. It was large enough for a full size adult to ride, like a carousel horse.  Instead of a horse straddling the rails, it was a renaissance style cherub. A huge, creepy, fat, naked baby with short curly hair. The wood was stained and polished, but showed cracks in the grain from age.

She was amazed, and immediately hauled the thing inside. As she was trying to shove it under the table in the living room, the baby came to life, and started grabbing her leg. "Ma-ma," It cooed, as it clutched at her pant leg with cracked wooden fingers. She shook it off, distractedly annoyed, and returned to the dinner table.

She started questioning me in depth about how I created it. I explained that I've never seen a real dog sled, so I must have connected the idea of the sled's skis with the rails for the rocking horse. I told her that first, you need to be able to access the astral realm. Then, you need to know how to define what you want, so you will have a chance of finding it. The only way to learn is through experience. I showed her again, this time demonstrating with something that looked like computer icons. I pulled several more items from out of nowhere.

My girlfriend's 11 year old brother was staring at me with fascination. His mother was dismissing everything I said, like she didn't think he was mature enough to understand. I locked eyes with him, and said, "You realize the ramifications of this, right? This is heavy, heavy, heavy, man. If you can learn this, you can do anything."

I then popped another piece of plastic rock candy into my mouth, and looked down at my dinner plate to realize I had accidentally taken the entire pizza instead of just one slice. The slices had somehow folded back on themselves, so they were piled up like a stack of pancakes. I started to feel like a rude dinner guest.

[Sunshine]

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[NeAvO]

You greedy git! Taking all the pizza!

[Robot_Butler]

Yes, exactly what I've been trying to tell people! 

I feel like putting that in my sig; do you mind?  (I hope it fits!)

P.S.  Welcome back, and I'm glad you feel better!  I was wondering where you were.

I guess its true about lucid dreaming in general.  By that point in the dream, I had somehow convinced myself that I was really reaching into the dream world, and bringing things into reality    That would be heavy, heavy, heavy!

Honestly, I don't even know where I've been.  Its been a wacky couple weeks of weeks.  A few days sick ruins my dreams, and leaves me with tons of busy catching up to do.  Or maybe that's just an excuse.

You greedy git! Taking all the pizza!

I wonder if this means I'm uninvited from the next MM pizza party?

[Robot_Butler]

In my dream last night, I was at a dinner party explaining the following story to my mother.  Yeah.  Definitely do not invite me to the MM pizza party.  My dinner conversation could use a little polishing.

___________

He hated his job.  He hated being told what to do.  He hated following a schedule.  He hated the driving most of all.  Stupid Fucking traffic.  He downshifted, and slowed for the line of cars.  His eyes automatically darted to his rear view mirror to be sure the car behind him was doing the same.  He often felt like he was just on autopilot in his body.  Like he relied on the programming of muscle memory and habits to run most of his life.  He felt this especially bad when he drove.

"Messenger 2217, please report on ETA." His radio chimed.

Stupid fucking radio.  He thought, as he ignored it..  As he pulled up to the house, he had a feeling that today was going to be one of those days.

He checked his reflection in the car window, and needlessly straightened his tie.  Sometimes he felt like he didn't even recognize himself anymore.  Could he even remember when his hair started to turn gray?  Could he even remember what he ate for breakfast this morning?  He made his way across the lawn, briefcase in hand. Stupid fucking briefcase.

He rang the bell, and was greeted by a young woman with a phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear.

"Is your father home?"  He asked, knowing that he wasn't
"No, he's not." She answered.
"That's fine," He said. "I have a message for him, but he doesn't have to be here to receive it.  In fact, It's probably better that he isn't home."

He swung his briefcase up to hit her hard in the face.  The force knocked the phone from her hand, and sent her sprawling.  A voice continued to squawk through the phone.  That would be the sister. He thought to himself.  Perfect. She's next.

He grabbed the girl roughly by the hair, and dragged her into the house.

...Her soft hair between your fingers - The memory intruded on his mind - Her smooth naked skin pressed against yours...

"Messenger 2217!"

He shook off the memories, and threw the girl into the bathroom.  She tangled in the shower curtain, and fell to the hard floor, cracking her head on the white tile.  "Your father has made enemies with the wrong people.  Bad for him.  Worse for you. You're the message."  He set his briefcase on the counter, and opened the lid to reveal rows of sharp and gruesome instruments.

The girl tried to lift herself up from the blood smeared tile, groggy and dazed.  She pulled weakly at the tangled curtain, as blood trickled from her broken scalp and into her blonde hair.

...Her soft blonde hair... Matted with blood.  Broken glass scattered across the asphalt...

He braced himself against the counter as the long lost memories burned through his mind.

...He struggled to untangle her lifeless body from her seat belt, but couldn't reach her.  The steering column smashed painfully into his shattered ribs...

"...2217!"

His vision blurred, and he stumbled against the counter, knocking his briefcase to the floor.  The tools clattered to the  floor, and he reached for the scalpel.  "I can't.."  He started.  "You need to get out of here.  You need to run, now!"  He started to cut the dazed girl free from the tangled curtain.  The scalpel easily slid through the thin plastic.

...The scalpel slid painfully through his flesh.  It traced a long trail across his abdomen, and he felt every inch of the cut.  Voices discussed him in the background.  "We use a paralytic, not an anesthetic.  The unbearable pain causes their minds to wipe the traumatic experience from their memory..."

A commotion in the front room startled him back to reality.  "Help me!"  The girl screamed as her sister burst into the bathroom.  The sister grabbed the nearest weapon, a long razor sharp surgical saw, and swung it wildly at the man.  He tried to defend himself from the blows without fighting back.  The saw bit painfully into his forearms, tearing off long strips of skin and gore.

The attack stopped as suddenly as it began, and he looked up at the sister to see a paralyzed look of terror and confusion on her face.  He looked down at the bloody torn mess that used to be his arms, and felt the same confusion.  Below the skin, where there should be bone, was the glint of smooth metal.  He ripped the ragged strips of flesh from his forearms and hands, revealing the shiny silver pistons and gears beneath.  He laughed in bewilderment, and stood in front of the mirror.  He tore his clothes from his body with his metal claw like fingers.  They bit painfully into the skin of his chest, and ripped the flesh from his metal ribcage beneath.

"...malfunction in Messenger 2217!"

Came the voice in his head.  He pushed it away, returning to the flood of lost memories now returning to him.

"...Her torn and crumpled photo, clutched weakly in his hand.  The men's voices, "We leave them with the most painful memories to make them feel like they are still human.  Their humanity makes them more complacent and easy to control..."

"Reprogramming team dispatched for Messenger 2217!"

He tore his left ear from his head to make the transmissions stop, and threw it into the sink.  The girls huddled together on the bathroom floor, now more terrified than ever.  He grabbed the small battery powered drill from his briefcase, and stood close to the mirror.  He pressed it to the side of his head, and pulled the trigger in a spray of sparks and gore.  He looked down at his hands and arms.  The skin was already regenerating, covering the steel in a mockery of humanity.

Sirens wailed from just outside the house.  He turned to the sister, "You called the police?  Good.  I'm going to take their guns.  I'm going to need all of them."