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.

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

A Bazaar, Fancy Armor & an Awkward Moment

Sorry for the window without any entries. My wife and I were having a baby! We had a little boy (or not so little really, he weighed over eight pounds). My mother in law came to town as well, so there wasn't a lot of room for this dream journal. I haven't had a lot of sleep lately either (imagine that), so dreams have been few and far between. Hopefully I can get back on track now; at least to some extent.

Anyway - On with the dream!

Note: Normal dream.

I am wandering though an indoor bazaar of sorts. The atmosphere is relaxed, and the lighting is low. It looks like things might be illuminated by firelight. This dream is very long, but I have lost large parts already. There are events before the bazaar, but I can't remember what.

I approach a very large black iron birdcage (the type with the rounded top). The cage must stand around eight feet tall. The lower half is filled with burning embers, laced in red/orange, white and charcoal black. There is some sort of scoreboard looking monitor just above the embers (I don't know what it is keeping track of). The door to the cage is open, and I see an old friend, Greg, sitting cross-legged on a platform where a swinging perch would normally be. There is also a woman (an attendant maybe) standing beside the cage. I know her, but I can't remember who it is.

I hold a conversation with Greg, but cannot remember what it was about. Something catches my eyes within the hot embers. I point it out, and Greg's attendant wraps her hand in a cloth and reaches in to pull it out. A long two handed sword emerges from the coals.

Greg is angry (apparently he has been looking for it). I turn to the attendant while he rants and say "Well, at least it's clean.", meaning sterile, since it had been heated to such a temperature. She agrees, and glances nervously at Greg out of the corner of her eye.

There is a large gap here, but I remember Greg issuing an order out of anger, and more happenings within the bazaar.


I am walking down a wide stone hallway with a huge cathedral ceiling riddled with colorful stained glass and ironwork. Greg is walking slightly ahead of me, wearing the long robes of royalty. He is talking about changing into the ceremonial armor, and some sort of ritual that is about to take place. I know that the ritual is a result of him being wronged, and assume it has to do with the sword from earlier.

I crane my neck to peek inside one of the rooms off the left side of the hallway. I see about 10 people in fanciful suits or armor laid out on stone slabs. They all seem to be people I recognize. I know they are all alive, but the way they have positioned themselves reminds me of the sculptures affixed to the top of stone caskets in roman crypts. I know that they are waiting for a mass suicide sort of ritual. I realize that this must be what Greg has in mind for himself and all of his loyal followers.

The hallway opens up into a throne room. I glance over to the throne and see a very intricately carved and decorated extension to the back of the chair lowering in two pieces and then folding out to surround the throne. It is very impressive, and resembles the styling that the Final Fantasy series has used in recent years when designing the wings and adornments of Bahamut and similar dragon type creatures (This may be influenced by the fact that I spent about an hour and a half battling the Hell Dragon in FFXII yesterday only to have my entire party stopped minutes away from his death, and killed. I'm a little sour).

I turn to the left and walk towards Greg's chambers. I see him strapping on his own armor. The armor has a dark burgundy lacquer, and is laced with veins of gold. My eyes run over the rounded shoulder pauldrons, and follow the maze of intricate designs. I say "That is the coolest freaking armor I have ever seen!"


I am in a room in my Grandfather's house (this should be a dream sign for me by now). While it is a room from my Grandpa's house, I know it is still part of Greg's castle. I am expected to change into my own armor here, to prepare for the ritual.

There is a woman who is trying to help me. I remember her telling me to change into something else so that I can escape the castle and make my way to another town.

On the bed I find a pair of purple dragon wings that look like they belong to a Halloween costume. For some reason I think that I have to put these on in order to escape, but they are too small. I begin cutting additional holes for my arms to fit through.

Before I slip the wings on, I pull a foam muscle suit over my head (I have no idea where this came from). I put the wings on next, which seem to be attached to a small purple net shirt (so small that it wears like a belly shirt or something). Now I pull on a pair of yellow rubber kitchen gloves. Ok, take a second now to imagine what this all must look like.

I see motion outside the door, and there is a small girl standing there. She looks bewildered, and asks me why I am wearing all of her stuff. I don't know what to say. Apparently all of these items belong to her, and she just walked in to find a strange man in her bedroom wearing her clothes. I know how this must look, and immediately begin disrobing as fast as i can. I am terrified that someone will see me like this.

I hear another person approaching the room, and I fear that it might be the girls parents. Just as I flail out of the last item of the girls clothing, the door swings open. There I am, standing in my underwear in a little girls room with her clothes sprawled out over the floor, when her parents walk in. I am in that "Oh my God, I know how this looks and there is nothing I can possibly say that will explain it away" drop jawed moron mode. How could this possibly happen to me.

Then the shock fades and to my relief the person at the door is the same woman who is trying to help me escape; not the little girls parents. What a load off. She wonders what the heck I was doing, and then explains what I need to do now.


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