Hypoallergenic Hallucinogens -- Dreams Most Odd

[Josh]

Alright, here's that edit I mentioned, wherein I include formatting and a quick rundown of some common names in my dreams. Basically, I made a new DJ on DV, and copy and pasted the first post.

Wow, it's been ages since I've even bothered to keep a dream journal, and I never did update my DJ on DV. I've decided to start keeping a DJ again, though, so here we go! Now with a much better title, too! I'll try my best to keep this updated, and post regularly from now on. I'm going to keep a DJ on both of my laptops from here out, and keep them synchronized. Hopefully, I won't let this fizzle out like it did last time. My recall is slacking off, and I'm looking forward to the improvement to that keeping a DJ should provide.

A quick run-down of common people appearing in my dreams, copied over from my original DJ:

Family

• Heather - My older sister, by 14 years.
  
• Scott - Heather's husband.
  
• Justin - Heather and Scott's seven-year-old son; my nephew.
  
• Matt - My older brother, by 17 years.
  
• Alesia - Matt's wife.
  
• Gabriel - Matt and Alesia's son, age two.
  
• Taiven - Matt's youngest son.
  
• Tab - My other sister, older by 12 years.
  
• Adam - Tab's husband.
  
• Maggie - Tab and Adam's four-year-old daughter; my niece.
  
• Cody - Maggie's little brother, age three.
  
• Harrison - Maggie and Cody's little brother, one year old.
  
• Mama - Well, this one should be self-evident. My mother.
  
• Daddy - Again, self-evident. My father.
  
• Daisy - My Labrador/Golden Retriever mix, whom I love to death.
  
• Sadie - My cat, a tabby, though she sometimes thinks she's a dog, and always thinks she owns the place.
  

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Friends

• Ron and Winda - My neighbors, really awesome people.
  
• Frank and Diana - My neighbors, a  younger middle-aged couple. They live up shared our driveway, past Ron and Winda.
  
• Columbo and Java - Ron and Winda's Boxer pups, male and female respectively.
  
• Luna and Benni - Frank and Diana's dogs, Basset Hound and Golden Retriever respectively, both female.
  
• Ben - Friend of the family, worked with my dad.
  
• Nita - Friend of the family, an older woman.
  
• Christy - Friend of the family.
  

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I'll be formatting this DJ in a pretty typical fashion, just with slightly differing colors more fitting with my Superman theme. Normal, non-lucid dreams will be in the usual sized, black font, lucid dreams in blue font, dreamsigns in red font, and notes in maroon font enclosed in brackets [like this, see?]. Titles will be in bold, 12pt font, in blue if the dream was lucid, teal if semi-lucid, and green if it was just awesome. and dates will be in normal font size, in italics beneath the title. Dreams will separated or ended by this symbol: ~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Example Dream
Friday, April 18, 2008

I was dreaming, then I became lucid and flew, thanks to seeing a flying stick of butter [That may have come from the title of Pancaka's DJ on DV.]

~|~|~|~|~|~|~


Now that that's out of the way, on to the dreaming!

Edit: It seems some of the formatting doesn't work quite the same on this software. What's up with not being to line break after lists? I had to use white dashes to get it right.

[Aquanina]

The Fortress of Solitude is the name of my bedroom. And it's so true. Heh. Welcome anyhow.

[Josh]

Seriously? That's awesome.

...but now I can't name my bedroom that.

[Raklet]

Welcome!

[Robot_Butler]

Great title for the journal.

[Josh]

Hehe, thanks and thanks. I should have something to post here in a few hours. I'm going to go home and take a nice long nap. Been up for about 27 hours now.

[Oneironaut]

Hahaha.

Good to see you starting up a journal, MoS.
Awesome title, too. 

[Josh]

Alright! I just woke up. Think I slept enough? I can recall a bunch of dreams, but only one in its entirety and clear enough to bother writing out. I'll post them all anyhow, though. All non-lucid, obviously and unfortunately.

Prehistoric Attack (or, Bigfoot's new Groove)
Thursday night, April 17^th, 2008



Started out in a fast food place like a Taco Bell. You had to put your cane or walking stick, whatever, in a little bin by the counter before you ordered. Mine was a large rolled-up foam mat in a plastic wrap, that I used as a walking stick. It was labeled with a really long name, and it was a dance pad much like would be used for DDR. So I'm up there placing my order, and this other guy comes along, with a rolled-up mat nearly identical to mine, except his is the Super version. He places it upright in the bin beside mine, and places his order. Then he reaches for his mat and heads off with his food. Except he intentionally takes mine instead.

I know the guy just wants to start something, but I'm pissed anyway. I'd never even opened it, and I somehow knew he intended to use it. So I grab his mat, and follow after him. The surrounding area is really weird, but cool. We are among the ruins of some sort of seemingly ancient industrial buildings, but buried way back in the woods and overgrown with vines and underbrush. I find the guy setting up my mat on a huge concrete platform that was once the second floor of a huge building, but now is all that remains.

Naturally, I'm upset, as he's tearing my foam mat on the rough floor, the mint condition mat, once a collector's item, is now worthless. So I call him out. He's ready for me, though, and claims that since I'm calling him out, he has the right to choose the weapons and the nature of the duel. He chooses DDR. Also, he says he gets to use his own mat, since I so nicely brought it to him. So he goes off to set his mat up on a much more even section of floor, while I'm left to inspect mine closer.

The damage is substantial, but it is still usable. I find that the foam is thin, only maybe an inch thick, if that, and covered in small upraised squares. I prepare to kick his ass at DDR, and remember that I get to choose the song. I chose a great grooving song by the Commodores, that I had long since mastered. It was obscure enough that I had never been beaten playing it before. And so it began. I was winning, when all of a sudden we (and our gathered audience from the fast food place) were attacked by prehistoric beasts. There were dinosaurs, big hairy Sasquatch-looking things, that were at least semi-sentient, because one started playing on my opponent's DDR pad after my opponent had been drug off, and was beating me but good at it.

But there were also the Biters. They started after the main troupe of beasts had passed through, and there were only a few of us left. It was me and a few kids, and maybe a woman. There was a large bucket on the ground filled with a gelatinous substance that was in turn filled with what looked like maggots. The bucket started to rock back and forth, the gelatin within rippling and quivering, and the maggots began to grow. Soon the bucket was rocking violently, almost about to spill its contents on the ground, and the gelatin mass inside had formed a sphere of larvae grouped together.

Then it tipped over, and the sphere spilled out. A hole began to form in the ball's outer membrane, growing larger and larger as we watched, fascinated and terrified at what might come out. As well we should have been. For what came out was strange and terrible. Small but voracious leech-like creatures, slimy and floppy, that could throw themselves through the air quite accurately. These were followed by the Biters, little balls of slimy flesh with an opening on one side through which teeth as long as its body protruded. They latched onto the first living thing they touched, and they sought out warmth.

They would jump through the air, each kind, at us, and we would either bat them away or be bitten. At one point a Biter leapt through the air and before I could twist away from batting away a Leech, it latched on to my crotch. I just knew I was a goner, but luckily my layers of clothing and jeans caught the brunt of the bite, and before it could start to chew its way further, I grabbed it and, fighting its incredible momentum as it tried to get away despite having no limbs, threw it at a Leech, where it firmly stuck and began to gnaw away.

I kept this up as I could, batting and kicking the Biters at the Leeches, or even picking them up and throwing them as I could, and others caught on. Soon enough, we were free of that threat as the larvae-things ate each other. We eventually ventured on down the road to an abandoned house I revealed to have been mine, that I built, before I realized that if I stayed there, I would be advertising my presence to the creatures of this place, and wouldn't live long at all. We then moved on, after finding my old clothes and belongings in the house, using an old car to escape to civilization.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Mini-DV Dream
Thursday night, April 17^th, 2008


[It's interesting where I found the picture, actually. It was on a guy's site, in a mention of a lucid induction MP3. The site: Mindware Forum]

Posting a topic for my 1,000th post on Dream Views, consternation.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

[Josh]

The Russian Rifle
Friday morning/early afternoon, April 18^th, 2008



Something about two rifles, one Russian. Daisy was involved, took place at home but I was getting ready to go somewhere. Off to war? It was taking me forever to get my stuff together, kept going in and out of the house and porch, Daisy was out and I was going to take her with me, on a leash, but realized I couldn't shoot a rifle with Daisy on a leash at my side, so I thought maybe I should put her back in the pen.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Manhunt
Friday morning/early afternoon, April 18^th, 2008



Trying to find a serial killer (?) in some sort of compound, kept searching around these ponds, [behind?] buildings 1-6 I think, nothing found, but talked to the General in charge of the [military?] compound, and there were only 3-4 buildings with numbers! Turns out he was in an underground hideout under the pond behind building #5. I think Spartiate [Note: DV members are now an official dreamsign! I dream about several DV members every night it seems!] was in there too; it was his basement somehow?

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Messaged
Friday morning/early afternoon, April 18^th, 2008



Tab sent me an IM on Yahoo! asking how I was doing. I wasn't really sure how to respond.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Food Fight
Friday night, April 18^th, 2008



I dreamed something about cooking/grilling outside. Mama wanted me to pay attention to her for something regarding fried okra, but I was busy and told her I couldn't look right now. I was crouched down inspecting something on the ground when Mama brought the wide spatula-thing with hot okra on it right under my face, then lifted up, pressing the mess into my face quite uncomfortably. Rather nastily, too. I had one of those thick pencils in my right hand, and I got pissed as all get out, batted the spatula out of my way with my left hand, switched my grip on the pencil to a reverse grip, raised up a bit and held the pencil out almost like I wold stab her with it, though I would never. Then I angrily stood up, dropped the pencil, and grabbed the spatula forcefully out of her hands and threw it as far to my right as I could.

I then turned back to my cooking at the grill and utterly ignored Mama, as I was seriously steamed.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Take Me Home, Country Roads
Friday night, April 18^th, 2008



Something about country roads and going to visit Mrs. McClendon [A friend of my mother's]. Then something about a passenger train, and some sort of intrigue aboard it. Seems like I met some friends from the past on there, who had daughters a bit younger than me. Also something about cell phones, and downloading applications for them.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Quickie with Burns
Friday night, April 18^th, 2008

Posting on MM, replying or talking to Burns.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

[Raklet]

That fight dream was intense and awesome.  How did it end for you?  Did you die? Or did you wake up before you were actually killed and the dream just implied that you died?

[Aquanina]

Haha...those are some crazy dreams buddy. Really impressive recall. =)

[Sunshine]

(content removed by user request)

[Josh]

That fight dream was intense and awesome.  How did it end for you?  Did you die? Or did you wake up before you were actually killed and the dream just implied that you died?

Yeah, it was pretty awesome! I woke up just before I died, much like would happen at the end of movie with the main villain. So while it's pretty certain I died, you're left not absolutely sure. I need to edit that entry actually, I fleshed it out a bit more in my DV DJ.

Edit: Done.

Haha...those are some crazy dreams buddy. Really impressive recall. =)

Heh, thanks, but I have zero recall today. I got woken up by the telephone, and that apparently killed my recall utterly. So nothing to add today, unfortunately. :(

Wow, what a lovely dream journal you have here!  Very nice.  Your dreams are quite action-packed.

Thanks, Moonbeam!

Edited June 4, 2008: Sorry, I'm rearranging my DJ so as to have only one date's dreams per post, so it's going to mess up the comments just a bit. The dream referenced above is now actually in this post:

Rambo Rocks. Hard. Rock Hard.
Saturday afternoon, April 19^th, 2008



I had a dream which would make Oneironaut proud! I dreamed I was Rambo, from the new Rambo movie. This was probably one of the bloodiest dreams I've ever had, it was great. The dream was in a particular color scheme [Note: Remember to post about it in Howie's Color Quiz thread on DV] that consisted of a gritty, nearly duotone videography style, very vivid and dirty. As it started, I was Rambo, trying to protect some missionaries until they reached the border of Burma. Pretty much exactly like the movie, which I haven't even seen yet.

We were set upon by various enemies wielding various weaponry, but I had this freaking huge helicopter-mounted machine gun that I had ripped from its mount and was carrying, belt slung off one hip. They didn't stand a chance as the gun ripped through them like paper maché. Blood flew everywhere as the rounds from this massive gun tore through their flesh, leaving holes big enough to put your fist through. We were wading through swampy ponds a lot, and at one point guerrillas ambushed us from underneath the water, but that was no problem, as the machine gun cut right into the water and rendered them floating bodies.

I eventually ran out of ammo, and decided maybe stealth would be a better option for a bit. So I unsheathed my trusty combat knife [Not the one from the movie this time, but rather a bit smaller.] and used it to slash throats, throw into enemies' necks, and generally cause bloody mayhem wherever I passed. This was an extremely vivid dream, and the colors remained that gritty duotone. I was at once both Rambo, in first person and watching from a third person perspective. Sometimes it would switch perspectives at key moments. At one point I remember coming up behind a guard, then he evidently heard me, and started to turn about with a look of outright fear on his face, and I just viciously raised my knife and slashed it across his throat. His head lolled back, no longer supported, and blood shot in a huge fountain, spraying all over me and the forest around us.

A bit later on, we came to a broad expanse of shallow water. I left the missionaries at the edge, then went ahead out into the water to scout out things. Something felt fishy, no pun intended. I got out just a bit, and this quite large white guy, evidently a hired mercenary sent to deal with me, showed himself, beckoned to me with his combat knife, then came at me. He obviously knew what he was doing, so I didn't hesitate. As he closed with me, I threw my knife into his thigh, then ducked under his swing and rocked it back out of his leg and went on the defense momentarily. We fought our way out into the water, rough and tumble, neither wanting to give ground but being pressed back. At times each of us had the upper hand, but I started to prevail before long as I figured him out.

The guy was good, I'll give him that. But he was still no match for me. I was cutting him up left and right, with only a few wounds of my own. The fighting was fast, and vicious. There were no holds barred, no cuts too low. He stuck his blade into my upper arm/shoulder, but I just pulled it out and slashed across his chest with it before tossing it back to him, beckoning him on. I was grinning fiercely by now, enjoying the fight. He came at me again, and I drove him back, cutting his thigh and neck. He staggered away, seemingly hurt, but came back for more. He was persistent, and just wouldn't give up.

This is where it really got bloody. He had two knives by now somehow, I think he'd pulled another one from a sheath at his back or somewhere, so I took one from him with a swift maneuver and did a quick one-two-three number on him. First slashing across his chest deeply, sending blood flying, then a deep slash to the throat, which sent blood spouting at least ten feet into the air, and knocked his chin up as my fist contacted it, then while he was still moving from his own inertia, a hard stab just above and to the right of the heart, burying my blade deep into his chest. He staggered away, mortally wounded and barely still alive. He kept staggering, still pumping blood from his wounds. Then, in a strange twist of fate, he pulled the knife from his chest [Or it may have been another, I'm not sure. I think it was his, actually, not mine. A black-coated combat knife, similar to a Chris Reeve one-piece.] and threw it underhand and backhand behind himself and right into the muscles of my left thigh, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

The knife stuck true, and buried itself deep into my leg. This was bad, as I couldn't move my left leg at all; it had locked up completely due to the placement of the knife. The blade had severed the muscles that controlled that leg, and it felt like a solid lead block now. I heard something, a motor, and looked up, to find that I was in deep trouble. A huge passenger boat was headed straight for me, with a deck full of drinking, carousing partygoers. It bore down on me, never veering from its course, never slowing a bit, and the mercenary smirked snidely as he collapsed dead, knowing that he caused my demise as his last act. I took it like a man, because Rambo isn't afraid to die. It was a good day to die. [I saw the boat closing from a third person view, and at one point it seemed as if it was coming from behind me, but I'd seen it in front of me too. Not sure what was up with that. Maybe just the dream fading as my certain doom drew near.]

The dream faded just before the boat mowed me down.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

Mall Boredom
Saturday afternoon, April 19^th, 2008



I was wondering around a huge mall while the parents shopped, going from store to store in a bored fashion. I then remembered, not long before my time was up, about the book section, so I hurried over there to try and find any books on Photoshop or graphic design I could read, but no such luck. So I then headed over to the videogames, which were kept n a divided bin, and to my great surprise, found the new Indiana Jones game. I didn't know it was out already, so I looked it over carefully. Sure enough, the release date was April 18th. The box was thick, and in the Indiana Jones themed colors, but there were no pictures, or even a blurb about the game. Just the price, a whopping $73.08, and the name, which sounded kinda strange. Indiana Jones and the King of Azura, or something along those lines.

I then headed off to walk around some more, after deciding that I couldn't afford the game, and that I wasn't even sure that was the official game. I walked right by Mama and Daddy, who were checking out, obviously ready to go. Mama beckoned to me, but I acted like I didn't see her, and kept walking, trying to prolong my stay. I was going back to the bookstore. Then I decided I really didn't want to get left, so I turned around and went back, catching up to them near the door.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

[Josh]

Only two dreams from last night. Still, two is better than none.

Gunman Without a Cause
Sunday night, April 20^th, 2008



I remember driving around in a car with Mama and Daddy and my sister. Except in my dream, my sister was only about a year or two older, and wasn't Tab or Heather. We would drive around and park in front of a building [Maybe Mama and Daddy were selling something?] and just sit out in the car for a bit. I had a bit of a runny nose, and kept running out of tissue paper.

The atmosphere was dark and gloomy. It was cool, very cloudy, overcast, and just plain dark. It was daytime I'm pretty sure. Lots of grays and browns. We were up in the hills, lots of curves in the roads and no guardrails.

At one point we had stopped and parked in front of a convenience store-like building, when this tall blond guy walks up, stops about thirty feet to the left of our car, and draws his handgun from its holster. The holster was molded Kydex, a nice paddle-style one. He was wearing a long, heavy overcoat, black, almost like a duster. Underneath that he was wearing plainclothes, but I got the impression he was a policeman at first. He held his gun, may have twirled it a time or two, then placed it back into his holster. It was obvious he was making a show of it, trying to intimidate us. I remember thinking, “I'm not scared of a gun. Who does he think he's scaring?”

Then he turned to face our car, quickly drew his gun and fired one shot at the frame of the back door. I don't think I even flinched, but my sister jumped. The guy then came over, opened the car door, and got in. My sister slid over toward me as the man took her seat, aimed carefully at the door frame, and fired one shot from the inside, in the exact same spot as his first shot from the outside. This made a hole clean through the door. Then the guy [who looked a little like a cross between James Marsters and the T-1000 from T2] dropped the empty magazine from his pistol, which was a huge, shiny, chrome-plated monster of a handgun, and loaded another magazine.

He then fired another shot, again aiming carefully, through the hole he'd just made, aiming at the corner of the building off to our left. He fired five or six shots at this corner, making a right mess of the steel plate at the corner. After every shot he would drop his magazine out and load a fresh one. He acted as if we should be impressed and intimidate by this show of marksmanship, but we weren't. I told him, “What's the big deal with that? I could do better when I was ten years old!”

Of course my sister had to be helpful and pipe up, “You weren't allowed to shoot until you were twelve.”

Which was true, but I didn't want this gunman to know that. Thanks, dream sis.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

'Shroom Octopus
Sunday night, April 20^th, 2008



My friend Jeremy called me, and wanted me to look at a website to which he directed me. He sounded rather sheepish, and started to apologize. It seems he had pretended to be me, or my alias, on a college application. Everything that was filled out referenced a one Kyp Degal, my internet alias from way back. All except the picture, which was of him right enough, but had the title, “Not Kyp Degal”. I thought it was funny rather than being upset, as he had thought I'd be.

Somehow from that it faded into a view of a dark, dank pond, with two huge koi-like fish-creatures in it. They were similar in shape to koi, but I think they had limbs, maybe tentacles, and really really big mouths. This was supposed to represent Jeremy and his girlfriend somehow I think. Almost like huge river catfish. Each one was easily six feet long, maybe eight.

The dream then showed a huge octopus gathering itself and shoving off from the bottom of the pond, headed right for the unwitting koi. It had no good intentions. However, it didn't realize just how big the koi, and their mouths, were, and one of the koi opened its huge jaws and devoured the octopus, swallowing it whole despite its struggles.

In another part of the pond, large mushroom caps and stalks were floating about, ready to be gathered. I'm pretty sure they were of the hallucinogenic variety. [Having watched the AotS 420 special from Jamaica not long before I went to bed, this would make sense.]

I then woke up, inside the dream. [False awakenings are becoming more common for me, it seems. I need to designate a text color for them, I guess. Note to self: take care of that soon.] My mother kept insisting she had something to show me. Finally I got out of bed, and my mother showed me a spot on the mattress beneath my main mattress, which was offset from the rest of my bed by a few feet for some reason. She said there was something I should see, that Jeremy wanted me to see it. She pointed to a wet spot on the sheets [Why there sheets on that mattress I do not know...] and then when I told her, sleepily and none too happily, that there was nothing there, she explained that there should be a small octopus there that they had pulled out of a bucket.

I wasn't very happy at this. I said something about how now it was probably under my bed somewhere, and how it would get under there and die, and I'd never get the smell out of my room. I was going to have to move my bed now, and possibly go through all my junk under it! Why couldn't she just leave the octopus where it was, and have me come look at it there? She said Jeremy had been the one to actually move it. Never mind that he was nowhere around.

So I moved my bed back from the wall, and sure enough, there the little octopus was. In two pieces. It almost seemed as if the octopus was made from the same mushrooms from the pond earlier. So I picked it up and took into the kitchen, where I put it in the trash can. I then looked around the kitchen, which was set up considerably different than it should be, and opened the refrigerator to find soft drinks galore in there. [This is strange because we almost never have soft drinks in the refrigerator.] My mother said something about food in there, but I wasn't looking for food. I'm not sure what I was looking for, actually. Maybe mushrooms...

I then went back to my room and back to bed. In my dream. Confusing, I know.

~|~|~|~|~|~|~

[Raklet]

[This is strange because we almost never have soft drinks in the refrigerator.]

I feel for you.  My wife refuses to buy it so I never have soda in the fridge either.