Herein, I will attempt to archive my experiences with my dreamscape. You will find this journal filled with both normal dreams and, God willing, lucid dreams as well. I am not yet well versed in attaining lucidity, but that is not to say that I have not experienced it. Lucid dreaming is very real. I, too, thought it was a crackpot idea when I first heard the notion of attaining consciousness within a dream. I am very thankful that it piqued my interest enough to give it a shot. If nothing else, I hope that this blog can act as a source of inspiration (or at least entertainment) to it's visitors.

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Tanks on the Beach

I was really angry when I woke up this morning, because once again I remembered nothing of my dreams.

I was making pancakes for the fam, when something came back to me:

I was on some type of open-air tank with my Father and my Mother. The tank had two giant launchers mounted behind the cab. We were driving over a flat area of beach, but it seemed to be in the middle of a city, with tall apartment style buildings rising up all around us.

I was trying to load a munition into the launcher. The bomb had a bulbous front end that tapered into an X shaped fin. It was black, and about two feet long. I had to shove the munition back into the barrel of the cannon until it clicked in (like some suction cup guns, etc). I tried and tried to click it in, but it just wouldn't stick. This was very, very nerve racking, because the bomb had an impact fuse in the front, and that is where I had to shove on it to slide it in again and again.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, grabbed the bomb by the tail fins and heaved it out in front of our vehicle. It made a nice little explosion that I really didn't pay much attention to.

My father told me to load the next one. When I pick it up, I find that it is mangled and bent in different directions. I know I have to load it, so I try and get it down the barrel. It's not fitting. I try to bend it back into position, and even use my teeth to yank at the fins. Finally I manage to twist it enough to slide it into the barrel.

As soon as it is in, my Father launches it. I cower in a corner, as I am sure the thing can't possibly work as advertised. I could have sworn that it went off right behind me, catching me in it's blast. The feeling was really kind of frightening. I look around to survey the damage, and find that it didn't explode behind me after all. My Father points out behind the vehicle, and I see a mound of interestingly shaped shrapnel embedded in the ground (which looks like smooth, wet sand).

I remember wanting to gather the mound of shrapnel up in order to use it as an example for something.


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