The Return

Sorry about the long absence, but I was dealing with an illness most likely caused by medication that did not interact with my body well. I have been feeling much better, so hopefully this is the last of my hiatus.

I’ll start this entry with an unforgettable dream that I had last week. I was having trouble sleeping (having gone to bed at 10pm, but still was still awake at 1am.) I chose to get up and sleep on the couch downstairs, hoping the different and cooler setting would lull me to sleep, or at least keep me from waking up my fiancé (R.)

I laid down the couch and closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and focused on nothing. I was at peace for a few moments.

Then I opened my eyes.

I was on the couch when I saw a dark figure shoot past me. It was human shape and size and darker than the already dark room. I was frozen in surprise, but forced myself to calm down. (I have experienced some strange things in my life, so I wasn’t overly afraid.) That’s when I realized that my fiancé was on the couch with me, his skinny frame fitting in the gap between me and the couch.

“R, why the heck are you down here?” I asked, turning my head to look over at him. R let out a low moan and moved his head. I realized in horror that it wasn’t R, but some grayish creature that was the same size and shape as my fiancé. It was a gray-tone replica in every way, except it had no face. I screamed.

Then I opened my eyes.

I was on the couch again, still breathing heavily from the creepy dream. I sighed and got up. I knew I would feel better if I just returned to bed. I headed up the stairs, and saw R standing at the top of them. No gray monster, just my best friend. I heard talking coming from the bedroom behind him.

“What’s going on?”
“Your mom needed to take an emergency call,” he said with a tired shrug. I made a face, something sounded off about that. I climbed up the stairs and went into the bedroom. My mother stood in the corner of the room and was frantically talking on her phone. I realized what was so off about this.

Yes, my mother had visited the other day, but she had gone home…which was 300 miles away from our place. This wasn’t real…

Then I opened my eyes.

I was back on the couch.

I looked around. Was I still dreaming?! Everything looked the same and everything was in detail. I could even see a glowing red sign just outside my kitchen blinds (that I forgot to shut before bed). The warehouse across the street must have gotten a new ad sign, but all I could make out on it was a giant red “2.”

I grabbed my cellphone and charger and stumbled my way up the stairs with tired legs. I was exhausted and just wanted to finish the rest of my night in my comfy bed. I nearly bumped into R when I reached the bedroom.

“What are you doing awake?” I asked.

“I couldn’t sleep, and since its four in the morning, I figured it was too late to try falling back asleep. I’m going to head downstairs and play video games.

“Well, just be quiet then,” I shrugged. I flopped into bed, ready to fall asleep.

“Yessss….” a horrific voice whispered in my ear.

Then I opened my eyes.

I was on the couch.

This time I panicked; the last mini-dream I had felt so real…minus the red sign across the street. I dared myself to look out the kitchen window. The red sign was still there, but now it read a blazing “1.”

“Wake up! Wake up!” I screamed out loud. I stomped up the stairs in the most animated fashion I could muster, trying to force myself awake. The steps slid from beneath me and I fell backwards…

Then I opened my eyes.

I was on the couch.

I leapt from the couch and could see the window from where I stood. The sign blazed in front of me: STOP!

I felt myself sinking into the ground. I was being pulled down by my feet by strong, giant hands.

Then I was on the couch.

I was drenched in cold sweat and I took a deep breath. With overwhelming fear, I forced myself to look out that damn window.

There was no red sign. No blazing numbers or words staring back at me. I check my phone twice (a strategical tactic in lucid dreaming: if you glance at the time more than once, the numbers will be wildly different in dreams/ completely unreadable) everything was normal. 2:44 am. I had only been sleeping a little over an hour, but in that time, I felt like I had spent an eternity trapped in my own dreams. I unplugged my phone and slowly made my way up the stairs –keeping in mind how much more this felt than the most realistic of my mini-dreams. The sounds of the steps as I moved up them, the smell of last night’s burgers still wafting through the apartment, and the sound of R’s deep breathing as I lay back in bed with him were all indicators that this was real and that I was awake.

I even stayed up a few minutes, just to make sure this was reality.

I soon fell asleep and had a very basic dream. Something about camping I think.

I could die happy not ever having am inescapable dream like that again.

Score: NOPE/10.

Wonder Wednesday: That Creepy House

I don’t know if people have noticed a similar occurrence, but everywhere I live, there is one house that I pass by (either while driving or on walks) that gives me an epic creepy vibe.

When I was a kid, it was the house at the end of my  street, it had had a handful of owners, but nobody really stayed for long. It is in the midst of a swamp and backs up against a lake that is less than clean — so that may be the reason it was unpopular. On its own, it’s nothing too noteworthy; it’s a big two-story house with a walkout basement. But something about it just feels off. It has always creeped me out, and still does whenever I go for walks when visiting my parents.

When I lived in a house in college, it was a house the street just south of us. Looked like a crack house…probably was. I would run whenever I had to pass it.

We lived in an apartment complex with no nearby houses, though there was the one apartment on the other side of the complex where some creepy guy lived. He liked to stand at his balcony window and stare at the people below. So very, very, creepy.

In our new place, these is a house in the neighborhood behind us that sits in a very wooded year. The house is an old, two-story house with blueish-gray paint. It sits as a spooky little house next to all the McMansions with immaculate lawns that surround it. While the McMansions are large, hulking figures that lack souls or comfort, this smaller house has a soul — a dark, creepy, spine-chilling soul. I refuse to look at it while I go off on my wandering adventures.

I am the Werewolf

I was running through this old, decrepit mansion with another woman I didn’t know and a wailing baby. We were being chased by two large men that wanted to hurt us. The three of us weaved through the decaying rooms, trying to avoid capture. We finally managed to get enough distance between us and our pursuers to run into a bedroom and hide in a closet. I tried to barricade the closet door with a small dresser that was inside of it to put something between us.

The woman and I tried to remain silent in hopes that they wouldn’t find us. However, the baby began crying and the woman tried to quite it, but the sound he made was loud enough to attract the attention of the men, and they were soon forcing their way into the closet.

“What are we going to do?” the woman cried, holding the still wailing child. It was then that I realized that I was dreaming. I stood there in a lucid state as the closet door was being broken into.  An idea stuck me as the outside threat came closer and closer to harming us.

I let out a guttural sound that came from deep within my chest. I felt my my height grow and my hands and feet become clawed and twisted. Grayish-black hair grew from my face and arms and I could feel my canines lengthen until they poked over my slightly open lips.

“Howooooo! Werewolves of London!” I howled before busting through the closet and mauling the men on the other side of the door. They never stood a chance.

I woke up and had a little chuckle before falling back asleep.
Score: 5/10. Random, but kind of funny.

Wondering Wednesday: Illness

What is the most sick you have ever been? Was it easily treated? Or was it chronic and hard to treat?

I’ve had a rough week with a UTI diagnosis, only to discover that there was no bacteria in my culture. The antibiotics they gave me gave me more complications. It just hasn’t been fun. Hopefully I’ll recover soon, otherwise I’ll have to get an X-ray or something.
Stay healthy. Stay happy. Live life well.

Finding My Way Home

Sorry, I’ve been ill since last Thursday, so I haven’t been writing. This was a dream I had during that time that I remember.

If you’ve ever read my dream “Escaping the Id,” you’ll know that my subconscious likes to mess with me, even when I am lucid dreaming. Sometimes when I lucid dream, I still lack the control of what transpires around me.

A bit of Narnia, a little Robinhood, and a dash of soap opera amnesia, creates a control-less lucid dream that ranks as one of my weirdest dreams to date. Like “Escaping the Id,”  I spent the entirety of the night running through dreamscapes. This time, however, I was searching for someone rather than running away from my own unconsciousness.

I “woke up” on the tile floor of my old high school’s hallway. My friend (M) is looking down at me — I notice she has crutches.

“Are you okay?” she asks, trying to help me up with only one good leg. I get up and immediately know something is wrong. I had been with someone, someone that I could not remember, but I knew that it was important that I did.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” I told her. M just shrugs and says we should just head to class and then maybe go see the nurse to make sure I am okay. Confused, but with little reason to actually argue, I followed her into the stairwell to the upper floor. I helped her slowly up each step.  There was a flood of kids heading to class, and we were suddenly pushed against the wall.  My friend’s backpack fell off her shoulder and onto the floor her stuff spreading everywhere. Once the area cleared, I helped her pick it up. I paused as I reached for the comic book that had come out of her bag.  Comic book. Comic book…

I suddenly remembered who I was trying to remember. It had been a fictional character, someone that I actually used as my “Inception totem.” Whenever I notice or feel that something is “off” in a dream, I look for him. If I see him then I know I am dreaming (as he cannot exist in reality.) Snippets of memories flood my mind. I remembered that I had been lucid dreaming earlier and that I had been with my totem…but something had happened and I was now stuck in another part of my subconsciousness with no control over what was happening around me. I had to find my totem, I had to return myself to where I had been earlier. The problem was, I couldn’t remember where I had been.

“I have to go!” I told my friend as I helped her up the last stair. She nodded with understanding and walked away. I was on my own. I looked down to see that my school clothes had morphed into a t-shirt and underwear (which is what I wear to bed.) I was not embarrassed, as I knew that I was dreaming.

Focusing on the issue, I knew that I had to jog my memory of where I had last been. I figured that searching around my old high school mind give me some sort of clue as to where I had been. My first thought was the band room — I had been a band student after all.

As I wandered towards the band hall, I could hear music coming from the auditorium, so I stopped to check it out. I found the band on the stage of the auditorium, preparing for a concert that was going to take place in a few minutes. I could hear the murmurs of the crowd behind the black curtain.  I stood there debating if I should talk to my band director when a new, sudden urge took hold.

I had to pee.

Now, I was frantic. I wanted answers, but feared that I would now wake up before discovering where my totem was. I mean, I knew it wasn’t a life or death situation, but I really, REALLY wanted to get back to where I had been. If I woke up, I risked not being able to continue my dream…but I didn’t want to wet the bed, either!

“Can you guy’s help me?” I asked loudly to the band. They all stared at me in annoyance.

“No,” my old director stated. “We are going to preform any second. “

“Oh, come on!”  I shouted. I wasn’t about to be told off by dream people while I was starting to cross my legs in pain. I jumped into the center of the band to get their attention.

Then the curtain opened. The band continued to glare at me as the start to preform. Luckily, I was able to pretend to play a piccolo. I didn’t have to…but I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward about being on stage in my underwear (of all the clichés.) So I just played along, slowly scooting my way over to the side of the stage while still being stared down by the band.

Instead of an empty sideline, there was a concession stand hidden just off stage from the audience. It was a little burger stand, and some guy in his 40’s was deep frying some nuggets.

“Are you sure it’s safe to do that here?” I asked him.

“Girl, I’ve worked here for seven years. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“And I’ve been lucid dreaming for nearly five, and I can tell you that where there is open flames in my dreams…they become fire. So knock it off.”

The guy rolled his eyes, but the cooking food disappeared.

“Man, I really have to pee,” I said aloud.

“Just remember to check the costume room when you get back,” the vendor said.

Then I woke up and went to the bathroom.

Normally, I do not return to non-nightmare dreams after waking up, but this time I did. I was so geeked to start where I left off.

I was now in the costume room behind the auditorium. (In reality, it’s a small, narrow room with a few racks of costumes and mirrors to put on makeup.) I looked around the small space, finding nothing. then, I see a gap between the two racks that is darker than it should be in the well-lit area. I shuffle my way between them. I push between them and as I move, the clothes seem to grow larger and the floor turns darker. Like in Lucy’s arrival to Narnia, I was now transported into a forest…only it was summer and I was still in my underwear and t-shirt.

Realizing that I should have tried to put on one of the costumes, I tried to find something else to wear. Dream or not, who wanted to spend an entire adventure in their underwear? Luckily, one of the costumes seemed to have fallen into the forest from one of the racks. I picked it up — it was green with matching tights and a bow and arrow — I’m not a fan of Robin Hood, but I was willing to take the tights and a weapon over sleepwear. Who said a woman couldn’t be Robin Hood, anyways?

Just as I adjusted the tights on my feet, I heard a carriage approaching. A large, ornately decorated carriage. Was now behind me.

“There he is, get him!” the royal Prince John. I was annoyed at being called a man, but I also found it hysterical that it was Disney’s anthropomorphic lion Prince John, rather than a human. Despite this humor, I was in no mood to stick around and fight. So I ran.

I ran through the woods, hearing the carriage close behind me.  I was deep into the brush when I stumbled onto the ground. The lush green forest floor had morphed into desert sand. Sinking into the new, soft ground, I found myself staring up at a large, Egyptian structure. It wasn’t a pyramid, but more of a giant stone stage with a incline ramp leading up to it.

Ancient Egyptian people stood in Egyptian god masks on the stage in a circle. They were looking down at something in the center. I climbed up the ramp and onto the stage. I peeked between the broad shoulders of the Egyptians to catch a glimpse of what they were surrounding.  I see a mummy lying in a coffin-sized hole carved out of the stage. It lacked a sarcophagus.

“What are you doing?” I asked Horus (or Ra, I can’t be sure.)

“We are reviving Tutankhamun,” he answered.

“But, he’s been dead for thousands of years…” I said, unsure about their plan.

“Why do you think we preserved our pharos so well?” he asked.

There was a crack of lightning that struck down in front of us, hitting the mummy in the chest. It twitched and yawned, then moved like someone who had just woken up from a deep sleep. The Egyptians surrounded him, catering to him like the king he was.

There was no moaning or creepy mummy curse; the young pharaoh just grumbled something and then clawed a bit at his face.

“He needs eyes,” Anubis said. “His have disintegrated…”

“You!” he said, pointing to me.  “Do you have eyes worthy of our king?”

“No,” I lied. “ I have cataracts.”  The dog-headed god gave me a skeptical look.”

“Prince John has far better eyes,” I said quickly, pointing at the carriage that had somehow managed to follow me into the sandy landscape. “They are worthy of medieval royalty, after all.”

“Then they shall suit our pharaoh for now,” he said, walking towards the carriage. I continued to stare at the resurrected mummified king while attempting to ignore the screams of Prince John.  Anubis returned with the prince’s eyes in hand and popped them in the sockets of the pharaoh. King Tut blinked a few times then nodded with approval.

“This is not your place,”  Horace/Ra said, noticing that I was still there. “What do you want?”

“I’m actually lost,” I said. “But I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.”

“Go that way,” He pointed to the horizon, which looked like a black, foggy mist.

“Are you sure?”

“I am a god. I am always sure.”

I shrugged, and decided to follow his direction. He at least was willing to directly help me. I started the long journey to the foggy abyss.

I was tossed into a raging storm of wind and misty darkness. I landed on a grassy hilly area, which I realized was a dream-scape version of my childhood neighborhood. The space between house was wider, the hills were larger, and the houses were bigger. Recognizing the very-familiar setting, I knew I was close to my goal. Despite knowing I was already asleep, I felt exhausted! I just wanted to find my token and return to the part of my dream that I was “supposed” to be in. The storm had torn my Robin Hood costume away and I was back in my sleepwear.

I stumbled through the wind and rain, towards some houses near the lake (which was also far larger than it is in reality.) I felt like one of those houses was important, rather than my actual childhood home.

I approached them, eyeing one that was buzzing with activity.  As I got closer, I saw someone in the back garden. It wasn’t my token, but it was another fictional character that couldn’t exist in reality, so I had a feeling I was at the right place.

“Where have you been?” he asked as I stumbled onto the porch. The rain stopped.

I rolled my eyes and stumbled past him and into the home. My parents and brother were there, doing their own thing. I could see some of my extended family members and my fiance throughout the massive home, along with random people both real and fictional. I wandered around, trying to find my specific room. I saw dozens of bedrooms, each belonging to family or close friends, each room seemed to reflect their personality. (Random people/ fictional people did not seem to have their own room.) I was getting annoyed as it was not what I was looking for.

I saw an actor walking through the maze of a kitchen that was stocked with food and chatting people who were enjoying their meals. I called out to them.

“Hey, Danny Devito!” I shouted. He turned to face me. “Where is my totem?”

“Heck if I know…probably upstairs,” then he walked away.

I climbed the stairs to the second floor.

The second floor seemed to lack the numerous bedroom that the ground floor had. This floor was a huge open space, there were some sliding doors, but they were all open and made of glass, making the space feel even larger. There were no people on this floor, it was quiet.

There were lines of bookcases across the walls, each one packed with books. There rest was full of lab equipment. One chemistry lab, one with some huge computer, a planetarium, and a room with a capsule-shaped machine that was burnt and broken.  I knew it was important, but I had no desire to go near it. It scared me. I chose to check out the planetarium instead.

I stood in the empty, white room. Trying to remember what had happened to me. The place felt familiar.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” I turned to see my totem at the entrance of the room. This triggered my memory. I remembered that I had created this home in my mind — a place where my passions flourished, where people I loved or enjoyed/found entertaining could come and go at will — my personal heaven. I had been on the second floor, experimenting on traveling through dreamscapes with my own transporter machine. It was just my totem and I, working on this insane project. Something had gone wrong, and I had been thrusted to another dreamscape and hit my head on the floor of my high school, getting amnesia.

“It’s been a hell of a dream…” I groaned. I felt tired, even in my sleep. I approached my totem and grasped his shoulder. “I’m ready to take a nap.”

“A dream within a dream?” he asked smugly.

“Pretty much,” I laughed.  As I said this, a regular wooden door appeared between two large bookcases. I smiled and walked towards it.

The room behind the door was a bedroom. It was plainly decorated with blues and greens and furnished with light-colored wood. There were some books scattered around on the desk and bed stand. The bed was large (California king size) and faced a wall-mounted flat screen television.  I flopped onto the bed. My totem stood in the doorway.

“Goodnight…” I yawned, snuggling into the the pillows.

“Or good morning,” he replied before closing the door. Then I was asleep.

I had a brief dream about shopping for lunch meat with my mother before waking up.

 

Dream Score: Really weird/10. I find it hard to give this dream a numerical score since it had several different scenes and emotions, but I would certainly mark it as a positive dream rather than a negative one.

 

Wondering Wednesday: déjà vu are Dreams! (a Theory)

Okay, so, I know probably everyone has had a moment where they felt like they have experienced the same setting, event, or dialogue before…but has anyone else experienced this phenomenon so strongly that it actually hurt?

I have had such powerful déjà vu at points in my life that my brain will get a quick and slightly painful headache, like when you’re thinking really hard in order to remember something you have forgotten. It lasts just a few fleeting seconds, and then disappears.

The first time this ever happened to me, I was in sixth grade. I did swimming for a year, and was at a swim meet at another school. I can’t remember if I was waiting to compete, or if I was waiting for final scores, but either way, I was on the benches with my mother as we watched the boy’s division. They were all lined up, ready to jump into the water. From the moment the whistle blew, I got this intense feeling of recognition.  From the way the crowd cheered to the way that one of the boys fell into the water at an odd angle, I knew I had seen this scene before. I got a sudden pressure in my head as I tried to recollect when I last remembered this scene.

This has happened a few more times to this “painful” degree. They have never been life altering moments or special occasions, they are just snippets of a moment that is so familiar that it actually hurt my brain.

The most recent was when I was out shopping with my mother. She turned to me to ask me a question when my mind was suddenly hit with a déjà vu sensation. Everything from the “SALE!” poster behind her, to the object she was holding felt like a repeat. This time, I actually was able to remember where I had seen this snippet…I had actually dreamt it a few weeks before. This is the first time I actually remembered where I had seen this scene before.

What if we dream about moments in the future, then forget them, which is why we have déjà vu?!

Food for thought.

The Black Door

This dream is pretty short, but it filled me with a sense of dread.

It started off surreal — my fiance (R), brother (S), and I were driving walking the streets inside of this building. Imagine a large, multi-floored, car park, but instead of being lined with open windows or staircases, it was full of apartments. It was like a small city street on the inside of the building. The streets were even marked like actual streets, only there were no cars. This building was one of three similar buildings that were connected by the aptly-named street: Connector Road.

We walked up the incline into the first of the three buildings, minding the road lanes like we were in a car as we tried to find some food stand at apparently served amazing food.

There were many residents on the road, walking in and out of their apartments and minding the 4-way stop in the middle of the building. Unfamiliar with the layout of this strange city, we accidentally got into the center lane rather than the right lane, so we would have to turn around in the stump of a street straight ahead which only lead to a few apartments (haha, dream logic.) Once it was our turn, we walked forward. I knew that this little street was supposed to end within a hundred or so feet, however, once we reached where the dead-end should be, we found the the street continued passed the grouping of apartments and narrowed slightly around the corner. It was a dark, empty street.

“I don’t remember this being here,” I said like I had been in this area before.

“Let’s check it out,” R suggested. “We aren’t in a hurry.”

I shrugged, not caring one way or another. At this point, I wasn’t scared, because I knew this indoor city was quite safe. There were no signs of private property or warnings, so while I found it weird, I figured that it was a small street that I had never noticed.

We all walked together up the slow incline. The street was far darker than the rest of the city, but it was still lit by dim lamps. There were brown doors along the brick walls of the street, but unlike the other apartments, these ones did not have apartment numbers, doormats, or door decorations.  Then suddenly, the street ended… and it ended right at this black, wooden door. Other than its dark color, it was very non-descript, nothing unusual looking about it. Despite this, I was filled with a deep, primal fear. Something about this door was very, very wrong. R and S must have felt the same way because we all turned around. It was suddenly far darker than when we had arrived, and despite going downhill, it felt like we were pushing through molasses. As we ran further out of there, it became steadily darker. We pushed on, struggling against whatever was trying to keep us there.

Then, the heaviness lifted and we could see dim lights downhill. I took a step forward, but instead of the steady incline, I had reached a step. The world became vastly brighter, and we realized that we were now walking down a staircase. We reached the bottom, and realized we were in someone’s living room. A woman, an old lady, and two small children were sitting on their couch, watching television. They looked up at us with confusion, but no hostility.

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking. “I don’t know how we got here…”

“You saw the black door, didn’t you?” the woman asked, looking worried. I nodded.

“You must have gotten close; you’re very lucky.” She saw our confused expressions and continued. “You’re in the last unit of (building three.) If you had gotten any closer to that door, you would have never found your way back.”

“What do you mean?” S asked.

The woman began talking about being friends with someone that lived on that little street in building one. They occasionally saw the mysterious street in the early mornings and late evenings when they left their apartment. Everyone in the indoor city knew about this horrific street. Many people dared to enter the creepy road, only to appear in someone’s apartment, usually in a panic. Some people who entered never came out. The closer you got to the door, the less likely you were to come back.

I wished I had been able to focus and hear the rest, but the little boy kept bugging me and stealing my attention.

“The door’s was gonna bite ‘cha!” he jeered, pretending to attack me. I pushed him back in disgust. He tried again. This time I forced him away with my foot. He then grins up at me, evilly and then bit down on my foot.

I woke up with my foot hurting.

 

Score: 2/10. A whole lot of nope. I would be happy if I never saw that door again. Points for the cool indoor city, though!