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/dr/ - Dreams

aspirations and head movies
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File: 1444613172479.jpg (13.51 KB, 400x400, 1444605775684.jpg)

No. 228

Here's a somewhat lucid dream I had last night (Lucidity and I have a strange relationship, I can become aware of the fact I'm dreaming and exert some control over the dream, though I tend to be fairly limited to staying within the scenario - I rarely if ever can divert the trajectory of a dream to something new entirely):

I arrived with my friends at a local bar. The circumstances leading up to this situation are unclear, and I only gained lucidity once I entered. Someone had mentioned to me that the bar got some new arcade style games over by the digital jukebox and the slots, dartboard, etc. One of them was a sit down racer, with like the steering wheel and all that. So, I hopped in, and as I got through a race or two, I started to wonder if there was anything more to the game, secret shortcuts and the like. I opened up my phone and searched the name, which pulled up a page like gamefaqs which made a startling claim - you could use this machine to time travel if you hit the correct sequence of buttons, wheel turns, pedal manipulation, etc. I noticed the year on my phone, 2020. Well, I thought I may as well give it a shot, an opportunity to divert into a more interesting dream sequence. I followed along with the guide and punched in the correct sequence which would start the warping of time…and it worked! I hit the big yellow start button and had a very stereotypical TV sort of wormhole visual and it spat me out, but in an entirely different bar, but I recognized it. It was my hometown, and I was sitting in the seat of what looked like the same arcade game. Bartender asked me if I was going to keep pretending to be a racecar driver or actually buy a drink. I apologized and wandered outside, wondering if my friends in the other timestream would notice that I vanished into thin air. Checked my phone again and it said 2016.

No.229

I knew I was in a bar on the west end of town because I'd been in it before. My dreamworld is incredibly stable, and back when I kept a more serious dream journal, I even went as far as to map out the layout of the local towns as my dreams filtered them, as well as maps of the same towns – they are quite divergent from what these places are IRL, but given how stable they were, over the years I've learned where everything is and how to get around, one of the reasons I no longer keep a stringent dream record, it's all fairly well developed in my head. It's afternoon and I begin to head eastward, walking down main, enjoying the scenery as I go, intending to see if one of my old oneitis girls is where I expect her to be. IRL I'm not particularly susceptible to oneitis at this point but, hey, it's a dream, and I can get in some pleasant feels while I'm here. In the continuity of my dreamworld (so continuous that when I was young I'd go to sleep and the dream would pick up where it left off on the night before), she's working for her family at a consignment shop but IRL she's a dental assistant with a kid married to an utter choad. In any case, she was there, as expected, and I made some small talk, asked if she wanted to go for a walk, etc. I make a point not to head north, as in the dreamscape that area of town is kind of weird, full of odd disappearances, lights in the sky, monster sightings (bigfoot and the like). She says sure, but first she wants to grab her little jackass yippie dog. So we start going back toward the west, past the high school which lets out some kind of dance and we make small talk with the siblings of people our age. We cut south toward her street and we get her dog. The sun is starting to get low in the horizon.

No.230

>>229
I hit suggest an alleyway now that we've got her mutt, and there's a fuckin' bobcat rooting around in the garbage. It sees us and immediately charges. It jumps, but low, low enough for me to start kicking at it. The thing latches on and starts biting and digging into my foot and lower leg. Luckily I'm able to kick the things head in after a bit of struggle, and I'm bleeding everywhere, she and the dog are flipping shit. I examine myself and while some of the wounds on my leg and foot are deep, no major arteries or veins have been punctured. I take off the button down I was wearing over my tshirt and tear it up to wrap the worst of the wounds, assure her I'm fine despite all the blood and we keep walking. This is when things get truly fucky.

We round out of the alleyway and I start to draw near a house which while fundamentally different from IRL, I understand to be a location that I knew to be haunted when I was young. I had friends that had lived in it and they relate that it had secret doors and hallways that you could access from cupboards and the like. Oneitis asks if I know who's living there now, and I reply yes. Now, I'd fundamentally avoided this spot in previous dreams as my weird dreams are weird enough without me going out of my way (for example chasing ufos under a very alien sky with more stars, different constellations, and visible gas giants, while tracking through utterly remote and rural areas full of backwater incestuous Lovecraftian families, you know, the usual). Anyhow, I said I knew who lived there, and did; I'd intuited it's the residence of one of my particularly bitter IRL enemies now. We start to draw near, and it's a three story brick affair, with boarded windows and large, like, garage style metal entrances that were closed. Now, this enemy of mine needs a bit of backstory but I'm wondering how to phrase things to preserve privacy. IRL I'm an initiate of Aleister Crowley's quasi-Freemasonic irregular occult fraternity Ordo Templi Orientis. Through this organization I'd met a dude who isn't a member but associates with a lot of people in it, and he's bad fucking news. All I can say is many, many years ago he was involved in a crime that got national, and probably international attention, and it involved a young child. I've been avoiding this guy IRL for a long time. He's scum.

No.231

>>230
So she gets nervous and starts telling me that people have started vanishing around town, and they heard weird shit coming from this place at night. That's when all hell breaks loose. The boarded windows shatter, wood and glass, which rains down on us. The vines crawling up it start to snake about. There are people inside, many people. The interior looks like something like an Elizabethan castle owned by a highly educated man – books, candle lighting, the whole nine yards. Maybe five or six people are visible, and each of them comes out of a window and literally levitates down to the ground. At this point people have started to come out of their houses to see what all the fuss is about; all of these folks look alike, and my enemy seems a number of years younger. They're all wearing somewhat modified regalia of the Cryptic Rite and Templar degrees of the York Rite. They begin performing a ritual which I could only construe as some sort of initiation for my foe, though as people start to gather around and yell I can't make out what's being said. My foe rises up a few feet off the ground and people start to back away, and in a flash of light both he and the members of his family vanish in a burst of light. The gathered crowd doesn't take kindly to this and starts to pelt the house with stones and whatever else they can find. It busts open one of the garage door looking enterences and inside I can see what looks like a gift shop, of all things, holding “God's Eyes” or those yarn things some of you may have made in church as a child, but which are actually a Native American (Specifically Huichol) convention used to mark and amplify zones of mystical power.

No.232

>>231
So, the crowd gets bored and disperses and my oneitis is utterly confused at this point, but I'm starting to think that I can use this time travel method to go forward, gather info about what the fuck just happened, and try to limit whatever sort of influence this dream version of my foe can have on the dreamscape. I tell her to run home and not come back to this place. We part ways and I start to jog back to the west end of town back to the bar. Unfortunately, as I'm sitting in the chair of the arcade game, I can't get the damn thing to work, and wonder if maybe it has to do with the make and model, year released or something like that. As I frantically try to replicate the sequence needed to initiate time travel, people start texing my IRL phone and I snap awake.



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