6/22/2023 -
First I'm dreaming about driving around my old neighborhood in Ohio, which I haven't been to in my waking life in over 25 years at this point. Nothing very exciting here but all of it seemed like a failed lucidity trigger. I mean, first off, as mentioned, why am I back here? Secondly, everything seemed to be in the right place but none of it looked right and I knew it. This is the exact feeling you need to embrace to go lucid but it failed here once again.
Next I'm looking down at this reality TV show participant. He's this standard looking younger fratty looking white dude with short brown hair wearing a white tank top and he's living in a crappy McMansion. Somehow just by looking at his existence from above I'm aware that his participation in this reality show is fully voluntary. No one is forcing him to do this and you can tell he's getting a level of wealth and fame out of it. The show producers want him to do something he doesn't want to do though and he's giving resistance. Like, he really doesn't want to do whatever this is.
Then this taller, far more muscular white dude enters the room and the reality star cowers to his knees and his teeth start chattering uncontrollably like that goddamn Hellraiser demon. You can here them clicking together loudly as he's freaking the fuck out which is genuinely eerie. Jesus, the look on his face. He's suddenly willing to go along with their plan. Shocker. The obvious implication being that they've beat him so many times to force compliance that he has severe PTSD from it all.
My perspective now cuts away and in a liminal sleep state I'm informed:
"It's sort of like horse racing."
Meaning ethically sketchy as fuck. All shit they've shown me before. Our world is like a crappy reality TV show but the ethics of the whole experiment have become increasingly suspect, which has alarmed a faction of the conscious multiverse. All of this tracks.
6/23/2023 -
In the only dream I remember I'm going to a small get together in my old neighborhood with an older super slim slightly taller black gentleman, who's dressed rather plainly with a tightly cut afro. I remember nothing from this dinner party type sitch but after we leave, since we live right next to each other, he recommends a night cap. So I stop by at his place and this ends up with us chatting non stop for hours and hours. I'm enjoying myself but also know that I need to get some sleep at some point. But I can't pull myself away either. Eventually the sun comes up and I'm like:
"All right, I think that means I finally have to go."
And I wake up remembering nothing in regards to what was discussed but after this, in a liminal state I'm told that it involved maintaining a level of integrity in the human realm and was a direct reference to the reality show vision from the night before. Then, just like in the dream, I continue to feel vivid activity in my unconscious states for the rest of the night, but it's happening in a variation of reality based more on sound than narrative. I can't reconstruct this in words but finally pull out of it as the sun increasingly floods in through my first floor windows, just like in the dream.
6/24/2023 -
My god, this is the most fucked up hypnagogic sex magick vision I've had in a while. Here I find myself in this stylized and in my mind slightly tacky cartoon world. And the thing is, it's a cool style of art, it's just not necessarily my thing. The vibe is slightly off. It's a bit too cynical. Anyway, we're this upscale suburban white heterosexual couple communicating telepathically though these psychic shared image mind bubbles. We're projecting narrative loaded images rather than words, and in the form of the exact tacky art our realm is comprised of.
What are we talking about? Well, we're having the prototypical couple's discussion about what to eat for dinner but we're talking about eating people.
"This is the type of person I like to eat."
She projects into the thought space, except that again, rather than worlds it's a cartoon image of a very bland looking white person.
"This is the type of person I like to eat."
I project into the thought meld. Another bland ass wealthy looking white bread person. No sauce.
Then I start thinking that maybe she'd want to eat this disabled child and so I start pulling the image into the dialogue. You can tell that he's not just physically disabled but that this disability is causing him to be fucked up mentally as well. You can see the blackness in his spirit. People like this are supposed to be a weird delicacy and I'd be curious about trying one.
I start projecting the image into our mind meld thought bubble dialogue but very quickly after I do, I realize that wait a minute. Not only is she not going to be into that, she's going to think I'm strange for even bringing it up. And so I rescind it. Here's where I fully admit that I have no idea how this telepathy works. It's like I copied the mind image into the thought bubble but I didn't click send or something.
She still doesn't know that I have this secret desire...to eat a mentally deranged disabled kid. I must say that the way we were "talking" about eating people didn't seem to have anything to do with physically consuming them, but more absorbing their stories.
Fascinating shit and honestly, I think it tracks in my world but in a way that I will have to leave mysterious as the ways of a sorcerer must sometimes involve misdirection in these strange times.
On the dream front, the only things I remember are that I was having a conversation about how Kenneth Anger only put out an hour of decent art in his entire life and it took him over a decade to make a half hour film.
Also, I'm at my grandparent's former place basking in the magnificent view but something's definitely off, in a fantastically excellent way way. It's like Mount Hood and the area surrounding it has backed out into a black and gold UFO dimension of radiant awesomeness. This is incredibly cool looking and I just have to get a picture of it with my phone but you know, it's a dream so this isn't easy. My lord the black vortex gold astral pocket mountain thing is freaking cool though. I can gaze at it through my phone but I can't get the picture.
What else, while meditating in the morning the song Lodi by Creedence popped into my mind out of nowhere. In the evening my wife's aunt and uncle are over for dinner. They're talking about their favorite wine and it's made where? Lodi, California. My wife's uncle immediately starts singing the chorus. Another example of the exact weed meditation non sequitur turning out to be precog thing I've been writing about forever. Why not another reminder.
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