9/3/2023 -
It's the I'm-sleeping-in-my-old-basement-apartment recurring scenario again but this time it actually leads to lucidity. Don't get me wrong, the process was absolutely tedious but because of the labor holiday, I had a few extra hours to sleep which I think is everything metaphorically. A few extra hours is all it took because without them it legit seemed like a quest to fuck up a lucidity test as many times as possible.
So many boring disorienting turns I don't even want to remember. I'm waking up while sleeping in the middle of the kitchen counter, startled by this younger Asian woman who's quite clearly mildly irritated by my presence but also quite clearly isn't going to say anything about it for unknown reasons. Now at long last I've finally packed everything I need out of my old space and am ready to head out but then I mysteriously find myself back in bed sleeping peacefully. I don't. What? How did I even get here? I'm vibrating so very peacefully. I was simply sucked back under.
Next I finally make it out of the place but it's been leveled. And yet the basement apartment remains. In the dream I actually think to myself:
"Seems about right that they'd level this place when my old landlord sells."
Which is a weird moment of in dream to waking life clarity. They probably would. Now I can't find my car. What the fuck? I have my dogs too so like, no, I can't walk to my new place from here with all that stuff and 2 dogs on leashes. Everything is fuzzy. This confusion seems to last for another several hours but by unknown means I do eventually manage to summon a friend to give me a ride. What follows next is just pure fucking gold. We start heading out to my new pad in her car and about halfway there both of us just start freaking out like we're tripping out of our minds.
"Duuuuude, what the fuck is going on here exactly?"
"Woooooow, I don't know but pull over into that parking lot for a sec."
Everything is more real than real. I can feel the clouds in my mind. They are a part of me. I can crest everything to a timespace perceptual crawl where I am the clouds.
Now we're in the pharmacy parking lot (which is on the wrong side of the street) just being all high essentially. Except that I know that we're dreaming and I explain this to my friend. I'm gonna prove it, but I can't remember that it normally has to do with phasing my hand through solid matter. Instead I just hold it out and tell him to watch as my fingers turn into these fantastical Aquaman-esque energy tridents. Go Mariners I suppose.
Now I'm all in and know that I'm dreaming so I decide to practice the falsetto singing flight lesson plan. How long ago was it that I learned this? 15 years in human time? Close enough. It still works. I focus on the sensation of what would be singing falsetto in the human world and I feel a presence from the middle of my chest pull me into the sky. I keep singing which continues to take me to a height I'm happy with floating forward. It's like I sing myself higher and then I'm floating forward slowly at whatever level I sung myself to.
It's glorious up here. I stare at the Olympic mountains constantly but never from this vertically elevated a perspective. All the neighborhoods too. I've legit never seen this particular vantage point. As I float slowly forward, large translucent phantom saints and decorated historical members of the clergy float beneath me. I'm higher right now than those motherfuckers ever got but truth? I'm only like 15 feet above them. Props honestly, there have been some true wizard monks in those institutions throughout history. I understand what I'm being taught. Respect but on the other hand eat my dust. I could get much higher than this if I wanted to.
When I find myself back in the basement apartment there are now these frontier colonist hep cats living there, except with a modern sheen. These are primitive times but these peeps seem very chill. Welcome to the new frontier. I recommend the psychedelic performance art division of The Invisible College.
After bidding the astral explorers adieu, I excuse myself to the back yard to fly around again. When I start hopping over fences I remember that there are other things I'm supposed to be accomplishing in these states. How about portal creation? I've truthfully pulled that off only once. I give it another go but it's awkward. I'm hovering in the middle of this grassy fenced in back yard in phantasmal Greenwood and I focus on creating a vortex to another world, extending my mind hands to sell it like a true spellcaster.
There's mild resistance at first, as if I'm not fully buying in, but it gives and a portal opens up to an 80's VHS video quality dimension.
I fly through and there I am, in the same sunny summer back yard scenario but all filtered through a lens of low quality retro video tape. There's a sparkle to it that was never there in the past like internally embedded firefly sparkles of politely tingling nostalgia on my insides. I dance in the air as if intoxicated by emotion inducing drugs. If only the sweet sensation lasted longer than a few glorious minutes before I fade awake.
9/4/2023 -
Now an entire night's dreams about needing to get back to work. Same theme all night, I've stayed out too late and I need to get home because I have to work early the next day. The one thing that seems more interesting than it sounds here though is what I'm doing while I'm staying out too late, which is for quite a bit of the night working in this live in surrealist art museum with all these other hip artists. The whole place is very MC Escher-esque in a way. Bizarre and enchanting architecture that defies all rational structure. Hell, the place seems to be continually reconfiguring itself based on the whims of the artists who live inside of it.
It's super duper cool and I don't want to leave but again, I know I have to work from home the next day and I need to get some sleep.
Of course this desire to get home and go to work is all about my need to wake up and exist in the skin world. It took me keeping a daily dream journal to finally put that together and I essentially always have variations of this scenario on the last day of whatever is my weekend. In this situation I can't find a ride home from the mutating art museum and so I find this contraption that's supposed to be a bike. Except rather than being a bike it's like silver roller skates that connect to these hand held controller things with long pieces of futuristic silver metal. The whole thing is fairly effortless to control despite the fact that I can't even roller skate in waking life. So I spend a bunch of time racing through the city streets at night on this metallic personal transportation device.
What's very odd is that I get quite close to where I live in Ballard only to give up and I don't even know why. What I do know is that now I'm back in the folding space art museum and conceding that I'm going to have to spend the night here. I have my own room in this spot like a lot of other artists but I can't find it for whatever reason. Things have reconfigured themselves quite a bit since I left so I seek out a fellow artists to explain where my room is now. I find this dude with long curly hair and when I bring up the artist's housing he immediately has this bummed out look on his face.
"Oh yeah, shit man. They replaced most of that with new exhibits."
He gestures with his hands and I can tell the place is more filled up than ever with winding architectural wonders, apparently at the expense of the artists. He does lead me through a bunch of a labyrinthine corridors to where the artists now live though, which is this crappy room that 5 or 6 of them are currently sleeping in.
"This is it? Everyone's in one goddamn room? We used to have our own individual suites? What the fuck?"
The guy concedes that it sucks and everyone sleeping in this room together seems sufficiently miserable. What a metaphor for the way capitalism treats artists and the state of modern cities in general. Jesus.
That's about all I remember in regards to this dream strain but I do get back under and once again I'm needing to get home to get some sleep. This time I'm at work though, which is more baffling. I really need to leave work so I can get home to get back to working from home. I need a ride and I have coworkers that can give me a ride, but only after they take me out partying first. They all want to party after work.
At one point this involves getting a jet and flying for a while which is super otherworldly because it's like we're looking at a big screen view of the cockpit windows. And yet I know this isn't going to get me anywhere near my place as I don't live near the airport. Eventually we even land and they continue to party all night but I'm pretty annoyed. It's like 5am already and I suppose I can call a cab but I'm not going to get any sleep clearly.
While you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do.
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