Foreword

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.

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Missed Signs & Public Toilets

Note: Both normal dreams.

I find myself working in the back of a Taco Bell or something in my home town. The back looks more like a muffler shop than a fast food joint, though. I cannot remember what happened here, but there was some sort of strife with my boss.

Afterwards I drive off in what looks like a 1980s Cutlass. Its not in great shape. I drive a ways through town until I arrive at a modular home that apparently belongs to my old friend, Tim.

I find myself inside the house holding a conversation with Tim's father (he is deceased now, so this would make my first ND experience talking with people I know have passed on). Unfortunately, I cannot remember what the subject was.

I step outside to return to my car, and find that Tim's two older brothers have stripped the panels off of my doors. They think it is awfully funny, but I am upset because the car is no longer road worthy. I begin to yell at the two to start putting it back together, and the two throw the parts inside the car and run inside the house.

I continue to yell at the house, and after a few minutes I hear one of the brothers yell back "Hold on a second!". I am not amused and begin yelling louder. Again I hear "Dude, I said hold on!", I yell "No, I mean NOW!!". The brother replies "I'm on the freakin' toilet.", and all I can say is "Uh, yeah, OK then..."

JUMP

I am in a distorted version of my high school cafeteria (HELLO!! BIG DREAM SIGN!), and I see my good friend Rudy walk by. I yell out to him, and he turns around and recognizes me. Not having seen each other in so long, we have a good embrace, and chum it up for a second. Another old acquaintance, Justin, is there and we have a few words as well. I ask where the bathroom is at, and Justin tells me it is downstairs.

I make my way down the stairs to the basement floor. This seems to be the gym/locker room area, although it has been thoroughly modernized since I last saw it.

I now notice that I am carrying five or six baseball bats on top of having to use the bathroom. I'm not carrying them under one arm or in any normal manner; I'm carrying them sticking out of pockets, and any number of ways that make it very difficult to walk without dropping them.

I make my way down the hall towards a service desk of sorts, and see the bathroom doors just ahead. To my dismay, the bathrooms have a sign that says "For Subscribers Only".

I turn around and see a door back the way I came that says "Guest Bathroom", and waddle towards it. As soon as I reach to open the door, it swings open as a man comes out. Great... A freshly used public toilet...

I close the door (there are actually two doors to the bathroom now, right next to each other), and lock it. I lift the toilet seat cover and see that it is filthy. Not just dirty, but all scuffed up so you can't even wipe the filth completely out of the abrasions.

True to my nature, I attempt the toilet straddle to avoid making any contact.

AWAKENING

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