FEBRUARY 25, 2017 to MARCH 27, 2017
Man has invented many machines and he knows that a complicated machine needs sometimes years of careful study before one can use it or control it. But he does not apply this knowledge to himself, although he himself is a much more complicated machine than any machine he has invented.
--G. I. Gurdjieff
2017-02-25 2:00 am
Getting a place, looking at an apartment in Kansas. Big place that keeps on going, has a middle room besides the front and back part, there's a way that the skinny middle part takes off on its own into a whole other big area. Trying to talk the Rhaes Bros. into living there with me as if imagining the place, the conversation with David, and his reaction, which will be lukewarm until he steps into my description and tries it for himself.
I try to establish a link in their mind with their house where they grew up, with all its magical secret rooms accessible by the chimney chute in the garage [a reference to the ever-expanding Secret House dreams I used to have.]
I go in to find KK is still sick and I tell her to go get another bottle of that medicine so she can get well all the way. She poo-poos the idea and as I'm taking her a big bowl of tomato soup with a plate on it for a lid, she pukes so violently and suddenly--like a sneeze--that I wet fart all over myself and the bed--foam on the floor--is now covered with her puke and a small area of thin red diarrhea fluid that dribbled down my pants leg. I wipe that part off with my hand so it isn't mistaken for puke. It all looks like tomato soup.
[Woke up in the Green Room with Vibes and tried to go back into dream by doing nothing while new scene forms. The image, about 1/2 the screen on the right, was bright, of looking out an aluminum screen door with curlicues on it at a scene of something like a roller coaster car moving away from me but it would only get so far then stop and rubber-band back to me a few inches. Did this several times. By the time I remembered to look equally at the whole visual field, it was losing impetus to re-form. It also had a spinning perfectly circular hole in the middle which would get smaller as the image got smaller/further away. The rotating circle thing was exquisitely clean-edged.]
[T.'s hands were on my arm and when I finally moved away from him, that broke the state for good. Went to sleep trying to recall all the dream parts and was woken by alarm for meditation.]
[Woke T., we will meditate in bed together.]
[Finally forced myself out of bed to write down this thought which is the whipped cream topping on an exquisite night of unworlding practice thanks to a new technique I'm going to call THE HANGUNDER, and that thought is: The Hangunder as a lucidity encourager works due to social interaction between sixness and the 2-3-4 mind. Added note: I later renamed this "the Wick" but then changed that to "the Fuse". Then I realized this is a whole class of activities done in the waking state which communicate via time warp with the dreaming mind. So this is "the McWillis Fuse" and other techniques are also fuses. Anything that communicates to the dream bodies later without reference to any space/time that happens to be standing in the way. "Fuse" because you light it and wait, and the bomb will go off by itself later.]
"Where Do I Keep my Thoughts? In my stomach with everything else!"
[That 2:00 a.m. meditation with T. in bed lasted about ten minutes, after which he went back to sleep faster than I because I was excited, something is building. I had to force myself to sleep since I'd taken a headache tablet with caffeine to counteract the beer I drank before bed. I practiced WILD, but not for too long or I'd get insomnia.]
[The sequences below might have been as disjointed as they sound. I don't have any idea how much time if any comes between the more obviously disjointed sequences since I kept waking up, not moving much, and focusing on nothing to try and go back into the dream.]
[Predominant method or focus--Beanpole--while going to sleep each time was the Hangunder by McWillis of Dreamview forum in which you optionally pretend/assume/believe that the logical faculty whose awakening at the onset of lucidity is located in the left side of the brain, and you instruct that logical faculty or optionally the left side of the brain to stay awake as the body goes to sleep. You literally talk to the 2-3-4 mind and even though the 2-3-4 is also the one doing the talking, the 6ness body whose specialty is social interaction and the act of appreciation in general is perfectly free to jump on the bandwagon and do what it does best, which is to socialize i.e. MERGE WITH the 2-3-4 and absorb useful energy from the conversation that's going on. The act of literally talking to the 2-3-4 actually engages the communication abilities of 3ness with its 2nd harmonic 6ness and the two resonate together so strongly that the result is amplification of dream recall. In turn, the amplification of memory (3ness) rubs off on 3ness' cohorts 2ness and 4ness, and has a great influence on the 2-3-4's willingness to join in the dream scene with greater enthusiasm. In short, talking to 2-3-4 and welcoming it to the party has an effect in catalyzing the dream state by advantageously tweaking the mindset that underlies all fantabulous dreaming environments since dreamplaces are, after all, states of mind. Without further ado, here is all I remember of a fabulous night of non-lucid dreams. Also used reverse blinking several times.]
[During a WILD session I experienced a] very clear large motion of one dream leg.
[AWK] A smallish androgynous young person with black shaggy hair.
[Upon waking in a Vibey state, I remain still in bed and wait for a scene to develop. What develops is that] a woman [SC] hands me a sponge mop and I set to work slowly running the mop over beige gloss tiles [like ours downstairs], the setting otherwise featureless. I'm completely aware of my body lying in bed (lucid).
Having used a small canister-type VACUUM CLEANER [Vac-U-Move] to suck stuff out from nooks and crannies under a long wooden bench where I can't see, I am now amazed to find inside the canister in the water a number of dead frogs. I try to count them, exclaiming to SC how many there seem to be, and as I count, the number grows. When I try to dump the muddy water out, using my fingers as a sieve to catch objects that have been sucked up, some are the very small plastic objects which seem to act as Fogjoggers in some way [these are the objects that the Dream Usher once lined up for me, like the one I keep on my table as an anchor, except in the dream the neon lime green color had mostly faded out of them or was covered by a film of slimy mud; I used frogs as the dreamer main character in something I wrote last night before bed.]
[At some point during ongoing tasks that I don't recall,] I become aware of my companion, a slender young woman with shortish, very blonde hair [Cwahacoy]. She is obviously my perfect match, there's no doubt we were made for each other, and she seems as aware of this as I do. Some sort of magnetism draws us closer, and when she says, "You can kiss me, you know," I did know, and it was a stunning thing to know. I briefly wonder whether or not we should close the door for privacy but fearing a lost opportunity, I plunge ahead boldly. I kiss her, getting the wrong angle the first time, but quickly coming in for another shot at the landing. This time a wad of frayed threads hanging from the edge of a RED scarf that one of us is wearing gets in my mouth when I go to kiss her, so I try again and it happens again. She smiles, she thinks this is funny, and her humor actually encourages and strengthens me, gives me backbone. Next time I go to kiss her, intent is fully engaged and no more HANGING RED THREADS [i.e. emotional garbage standing in the way.]
We stand there kissing passionately in our place of employment, oblivious to being observed slacking off. My lips seem a little dry so I lick them without a break in the action letting this morph into a tongue kiss. Then my hand is in her shirt holding her perfect breast and touching her erect nipple. I am in ecstasy.
She pulls away gently with good humor and I say something which sounds dorky, to the effect that it's good she made me stop because I wouldn't have done it on my own. She has some people she wants me to meet, so she takes me out the door, down the hall, into another room [through the Tunnel, through the Urumara, into the Projection Room.]
I'm a little SURPRISED at her choice of friends, but I quickly get used to them as they are funny, colorful and interesting. This relatively featureless room is the hangout of several lavishly, outrageously dressed, androgynous fat old women but they seem to be more like fun-loving self-parodies than the burned-out old streetwalkers that they are dressed up as. [Memory of this part is not detailed but I] bounced around the room cracking jokes, being spontaneously and genuinely funny [Limberluck], reflecting the outrageous, devil-may-care, yet innocent-and-scary-at-the-same-time trick atmosphere of the room. Cwahacoy sends me a spoken or telepathic message then we meet in the center of the room in the midst of my ecstatic, hilarious cavorting, and my response to her communication (whatever that was) comes fully-formed and effortlessly to my lips: "Where do I keep my thoughts? In my stomach, with everything else!" We laugh together and [I wake up with Vibes coursing through me gently but noticably. I go over the details of the dreams and use reverse blinking and wait for another dream to form.]
[I don't recall any more dreams forming but I do recall waking up two or three more times, and each time the Vibes are stronger. The quality of the Vibes is that two widely separated chakras are beating against each other, with an interference pattern between the two constituting the Vibes. The frequency is maybe 5-12 hz and extremely distinct, such that it feels like a super fast heartbeat and a little surprising at first, but very pleasant and exciting when I tell myself it's not my heart racing, so I relax and bathe in the Vibes as long as possible. This is a totally new development, I am waking up just on the other side of the Urumara with the vestiges of sleep paralysis clearly felt in my limbs. I can move but have to focus a second or two to make it happen. Not full sleep paralysis, but as it's fading. The Vibes are felt mostly in my arms. By making myself calm down and engaging Blaffinveigle, I can instantly start Noticing images, mostly purple fine wavy lines, but each time I awoke, I urgently wanted to get back to dreaming, so a few reverse blinkings later, I'd be gone, out like a light. The last time it was only 5:45 a.m. and being Saturday morning, I wanted to sleep longer, but couldn't. Too excited and too much to write, didn't want to lose it.]
[The message "Where do I keep my thoughts? In my stomach with everything else!" Unbelievably clear communication. The reply is that--as I JUST NOW realize after ALL THIS WRITING--the logical faculty is stored in the 2-3-4 mind, or "the stomach" in particular the 2nd chakra right under the belly button which is 3ness, the memory. I am building up to something big, and THIS is what I want to do with my life.]
[Besides nighttime and WILD practices noted above, I've also been practicing Living in the Reality Check a.k.a. ADA or All Day Awareness--being aware of my surroundings instead of talking to myself all the time--and thus simultaneously engaging both Blaffinveigle and Metsuke. Also pay particular attention to NOT spending three hours lying motionless but changing position every seven to ten minutes and never mind the Itchies, who needs them?]
[Added note one month later: The above frenzy, much of which I deleted, is funny in light of the fact that I was beginning a dry spell at the time and didn't realize it. Due to miscrediting my success, I think. The DEILD or back-to-back chaining of dreams was working well and had just given me a huge streak of lucid dreams without me having a clue because I was busy reading junk on Dreamviews instead of studying my dream journal to see what I was doing right. After a few days of this "Fuse", I gave it up as it only worked the first time or two. The problem is that I switched from the Chaining to the Fuse and didn't get back to Chaining in time to prevent a loss of momentum. In addition, a more obvious meaning of the message about keeping my thoughts in my stomach was that my diet was killing me at this time, and it was based on misconceptions a.k.a thoughts. Final observation is that this wasn't the first or last time that I got excited about trying a new 'technique' and the technique, as usual turned out to be another facade for a basic technique that really does work: enthusiastically engaging the placebo effect.--ed.]
[To bed, WILD.]
[B6. THE WICK, tell 2-3-4 to wake up. WILD at bedtime till it's easy, prove the Discouragement Fraternity wrong.]
[New plan of action. Upon realizing who I am, I will touch everything in the room and in the next room, then I will go around a corner and find the opening of the Urumara and the Projection Room which I will investigate thoroughly, while repeating the assertion, "I love this place."]
I've been left to watch the Postal Center in Mr. Murray's absence, but as a helper for a young woman who is in charge--the moderator of a Facebook group--it's late in the day and an old woman has a small package to send back to the factory--simple--but then she wants it sent Next Day Air to arrive the next morning so I'm looking for RED tape to wrap around it. People are lining up behind her and I'm getting flustered. I have to go to Mr. Murray's apartment which I'm house sitting for him, but while there, I realize my house sitting assignment was not real, but something I IMAGINED, so I leave in embarrassment, but the way out is BLOCKED [the Urumara] by three antique LAMPS and I realize Dave [the Dream Usher] is there in his bedroom. I finally escape [back out of the Urumara] into the apartment house hallway [the Tunnel], trying not to shut the door too loud behind me and hoping my superfluous imagined housesitting assignment wasn't Noticed. Before that I go there to feed his children (RED-haired boy and girl), but they aren't there, same story, they're gone, all grown up.
I get back to the Postal Center late and I'm hanging everybody up, afraid of repercussions, but they're taking it in stride. [Total anxiety dream. Hopefully the garbage has been taken out so I can get on with proper unworlding. I was sleeping hard and went to sleep fast. Maybe behind on emotional processing junk dreams due to bedtime WILD practice.]
At the end of a longer dream that had me in a bad mood--details forgotten--I look around an oval of images that surrounds me and a blue baby--bizarre--which I recognize from somewhere--waves at me. I wake up when I wave back [Blue = 7ness].
[Back to sleep but alarm will ring soon for meditation.]
[Never mind, I'll wake T. three minutes early and shut off alarm, he said he wanted to meditate again.]
[T. wants to sleep so will meditate by myself. Muggons.]
[Back to bed. Apple juice.]
Someone loans me a gun and Manang Linda wants to see the bullets which I show her are in a canvas holder. She tells me to load only one bullet in the gun.
[Apple juice, back to bed, WICK.]
FREEDOM HOUSE. The inventor of the dirigible is sleeping in the guest bedroom. I'm hanging his clothes up to dry. [Breath of Flight--it was me.] I don't like him. Old guy. European.
[Last night when I lay down and started relaxing for WILD dry run, as soon as I lapsed, a placard and a voice--my voice reading the words on the placard--blared out with utter clarity (exact words, date forgotten instantly):] "KK died on [some date and place]." [I almost got out of bed to check her FB but will do that later today. Added note: she didn't die. --ed.]
[This morning before breakfast I decided to break my routine by cleaning my table, something I would never do before breakfast. As a result of doing this, I found I'd forgotten to report to immigration this year--On Jan. 1 I had 60 days to do it and now I have 2 days.]
[If I'm right, the WICK or Waking the 2-3-4 to the dream world did in fact induce the exact communication that I needed the most vs. lucid dreaming. Which would make this quite a magical method. I also get the impression that the unpleasant anxiety dreams I had were needed housecleaning which blocked the kind of dreams I wanted to have. Except I just realized that the dream about the inventor took place in the locale that IDs as the place where I had a surprise lucid dream May 31, 2015, a dream I knew about but just rediscovered today--again as a result of cleaning my desk--that this dream was much more recent than I had thought. Another signal from the remote mind. Also yesterday I did a lot of breathing--milestone day for that since I got the Vibes while walking and did not quit or get hypoglycemic.]
[To bed. B6. FFWILD which is an overtly sleep paralysis method. Freefall WILD:
1. lie down in a comfortable position and just veg out, unwind2. remain passively aware, wait for illogical thoughts3. lie on back4. sleep breathing, long and shallow5. do simple math or count, with affirmation to keep critical faculty awake6. you will go into sleep paralysis even at bedtime7. for LD combine with WBTB]
[Back to bed.]
[Back to bed, will do FFWILD now to induce SP, and will do SSILD upon awakening, alternating FFWILD and SSILD with each Awakening. SSILD:
1. Cycle from seeing to hearing to feeling body 4-6x for a few seconds each.2. Do the same 2-4x for no more than 30 seconds each.3. Go to sleep as fast as possible.4. Do not use any relaxation, do not combine with other techniques.]
[I already did McWillis Wick while breathwalking.]
2017-02-27 2:00 am
[Will try SSILD now.]
[After SSILD first try. Had a dream, but not lucid.]
Recall Marcia and her husband, let's go head them off. I go the other way after she looks supiciously at me, then I turn around in someone's driveway. ALMOST LUCID, can't back out, spinning wheels in dust [the Urumara x3.] [Since I never properly went back to sleep all the way after SSILD this was a WILD without the L, but nearly lucid.] When I wanted to turn my car around as I headed into a driveway on my LEFT, it was downhill and I was afraid as I headed down their driveway that my brakes would fail and I would rear end their WHITE car [the Nowhere]. I was aware of GOING TOO FAST and people watching me [my Soul Retinue], very self-conscious. Marcia and hubby were doing something weird, involving sneaky biz about manipulating some teenagers.
"Is Anyone Coming to Get You? And would that be the police?"
I find myself WONDERING whether a technical degree in wiring stuff up might not be just what the doctor ordered. Even at my age, it's possible to make a new start. What's the worst that could happen? Well, now that I mention it, the worst that could happen would be to find that I am the cable guy and I have to use a tool similar to a dandelion digger to drill a nasty hole in someone's wall near the baseboard to stick a cable through. I can imagine that going all kinds of wrong. It's not like I can see though walls, you know what I mean? What if I guess wrong and make a hole in the wrong place [the Urumara]?
So I'm going ahead with it, I'm taking a course in wiring stuff up at the Community College. Since they're out of real classrooms, this class is taught in a funky little shack in the parking lot outside of the big, tall, rectangular building made from ticky-tacky multicolor off-tone weird colored panels that make the building look like a huge plastic toy.
It's a cold, dry winter.
The classroom is long and skinny [the Tunnel] and way too small, about the size of an Airstream trailer. It's poorly lit and cluttered with little shelves covered with tiny parts, crude wooden workbenches, and split into three rooms plus a corridor leading from one to the other. It's impossibly full, then there's half a dozen or more students and a teacher, so it's a bit crowded [the Urumara.]
The teacher [SC] has us split up into three groups and I finally get decided which tiny group to be in. The teacher asks us what we expect out of the exercise and a tall RED-HEADED guy [from my tuning school alumni] says he hopes to make about $40. The teacher seems to think this is pretty reasonable. I get a couple of tiny parts including a gold SPIRAL wire spring and join his group. I'm encouraged to see that the wall around the central area was removed, which makes the whole place seem more spacious and accessible. I comment on what a good idea this was and focus on the work at hand.
[Plot dissoves and re-forms in a nearby location in front of the big school which is closed for the day.] An older woman [SC] has some concerns about a LONG NARROW wooden stacklike thing we're trying to reassemble [looks like a player piano or pipe organ valve stack]. The woman has despaired of getting the horizontal layers of wood to line up so that the vertically disposed screw holes will line up and it can be reattached to where it mounts up. I look carefully and it seems to me the holes already line up.
[More plot confusion.] Some guy [SC] hands me two very short machine screws and he can't figure out how they're supposed to be used to attach the GREEN piece. He hands me the green piece. I EXAMINE one of the screws and the green piece VERY CLOSELY and the problem is obvious. The green thing is a piece of thin green plastic 6" long x 1-1/8" wide, straight along the long dimension and curved across the short way. Its shape reminds me of the tracking bar on a player piano and I recall that tracker bars can automatically shift side-to-side a little to make fine adjustments on the fly. Near one end of the piece is a wedge-shaped slot through which the screw obviously goes so I look at the screw and I announce his mistake: this is not a screw. At first I say it's a bolt, it takes a nut on the end, which could be missing, but on EVEN CLOSER EXAMINATION the screw is not threaded on the end at all, but smooth. That means the end of the screw is a pin or location device upon which the sliding adjustment takes place. I then see in my mind the whole stack, due to the influence of the GREEN piece, VIBRATING back and forth the long way when everything is assembled correctly.
Feeling GRATEFUL that I have the background in player pianos and happy to be able to help solve this problem, and I need more parts, so I spot the classroom, the long little wooden shack out in the empty parking lot, and head for it. It's a long way, so I might as well run. As long as I'm running, I might as well run fast.
I'm a little round-faced guy with bright RED HAIR, and I FLY into the air, high up, and as I arc back toward the ground from the zenith of my flight, I experience a twinge of fear, so I cling to the side of the building so I won't fall to the ground. I know how to get in, I've broken in before, and SHE's in there, the one in charge. She's mine, last time I broke in she accepted me and loved me and if she sees me again she'll be happy and that will make me happy. She's mine and nobody knows of our secret affair.
I dig my fingers into a horizontal shelf in the snap-together plastic panels that they used for windows when they built this ticky-tacky school house. I am a master at breaking into this place. I want to hold her in my arms again. The window comes apart and I'm in.
As headmistress, she has a truly unique apartment. It's so WARM, where does the heat come from? I check out the outside of the bathroom walls from the room I'm in, and the bathroom door. They're solid glass, the bubbly semi-opaque kind, and a light GREENish color [the Nowhere]. The glass panels are the HEAT SOURCE, so the WIRING must be embedded into the glass, and maybe these are graphite heaters like the one I used to have.
I go through the bathroom into the bedroom, and there she is, my delightful partner [Cwahacoy]. She's slender and a little tall, with dark brown curly hair, maybe 35-40 years old. I know she might not remember our past together or place the same significance on it that I do, and it doesn't matter. It's just so nice to see her. I hope she doesn't mind that I had taken the liberty of bathing while in the bathroom and have a BEIGE towel draped diagonally across the front of my body.
She's friendly in a business-like sort of way. She is, after all, in charge of a big operation here. Without referring to our shared experience, she treats me well considering that I have broken into her school like a burglar. She asks, "Is anyone coming to get you? And would that be the police?" A couple of school authorities show up and escort me outside in a friendly way.
Driving through the parking lot in a small contraption similar to a motorcycle with roofed sidecar is the little round-faced guy with bright red hair. I ask him for a ride home and he's happy to oblige.
[I wake up in a great mood, vibrating without a worry in the world. This was a Big Dream. nearly lucid in parts such as while [illegible] small parts up close and while feeling warmth emanating from the bathroom walls (more senses involved). The visage of the red-haired trickster is that of Wesley P., who I knew as a young teenager. Years later I visited him in his family home and got a pleasant shock. His parents were intellectuals, professors, and they lived in a big open space without walls. Their stuff was piled all over the place and they were frumpy and relaxed. Everyone in his family was busy working at a hobby or studying something passionately. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to redo my childhood with these parents.]
[This dream marks my merging with Mouse, a big milestone in losing the human form. My 7ness body: true intuition. Cwahacoy (6ness) is part of Mouse, just as Mouse (7ness) is part of Limberluck (8ness).]
[B6, to bed, went to Davao today. No caffeine. Will do FFWILD to induce SP now and will alternate that with SSILD through the nightly Awakenings. FFWILD: lie down, unwind, get comfortable, wait passively aware for illogical thoughts, lie on back, breathe like sleep, count or do math to remain aware. SSILD: get comfortable, don't try to relax, 4-6x for 5 sec. ea. see-hear-feel then 3-4x for 30 sec. max, go to sleep ASAP. Before starting FFWILD as soon as I lie down I'll do McWillis Wick. Tell 2-3-4 to join me in dream.]
Breeze and I and SC were at our special place in the mountains but we went back to a nearby gathering and not long after that, SC comes to me where I sit in my car and tells me that Breeze thinks we should go back to our special place. I am relieved about that as I've been sitting in the car to be alone. I say, "I LOVE THAT PLACE!" I move the car and then Uncle Jack wants to drive past where the BIG BEIGE CAR is, but the place I just put it is now in the way. There are a series of small mounds covered with dry grass with scattered groves of trees. Jack says, "I'm trying to tell you to corral your horse!"
We're talking about the house where women live and SC has been showing me pictures of all the women that have an affinity including Karen and other names by name. Re: reincarnation? Some bad arithmetic about Karen being born in 1934 because she's 34 years old.
[Back to bed, SSILD, apple juice.]
2017-02-28 1:50 am
[Woke to alarm, back to bed, SSILD, apple juice.]
[No dreams recalled, back to bed, FFWILD.]
Someone at School has made T. think he's autistic, so I look into it. A long, detailed dream, but no time to write it down. I held continuous awareness through at least three major scene changes starting at school, then home, then? At one time an old woman in the school library was so wrinkled and withered I almost became lucid from staring at her wrinkles. This was a mental preparation for getting T. to drop his helpless act and get to school on Mondays. I did not bother on Monday and it's already Tuesday. It worked and when he left for school he was not angry anymore.]
[SSILD, muggons x2, apple juice. No sounds, new mosquito net on dream bed.]
[Neighbors turned on karaoke so I turned on my sounds with headphones, try again SSILD.]
[Went to sleep but didn't feel like forcing self back to sleep when I kept waking up.]
[To bed to induce SP like this: using reverse blinking and listening in and feeling gravity changes till I get SP if it takes all night. Rotating the three prevents seizure of the critical faculty; realized: 1) when I got SP (the snake vision) it was because I snapped my eyes open and 2) it's about paying attention. How do you pay attention? The senses, not the mind. All else is a waste of energy. The fast way is consciously through the Urumara. If anybody can do this, so can I. I will remain still upon awakening and do the SP induction above. The only right way into the Unworld is consciously through the front door = the Urumara.]
I'm with a group of young people going back in the car for the 2nd day of our outing and I remembered my two cigarettes but did I remember my toothbrush and toothpaste? If not I'm in trouble, my teeth taste nasty. I am relieved to realize I planted that stuff, it's already there from the previous day.
Once there, the project needs to be finished quickly and the teacher/landlord is hurrying to get it done. Finally I see why--he is the main singer at the final event. He sings pretty good for someone as tired as he must be.
2017-03-01 12:50 am
PAINTING A PIANO WHITE. SC is getting way too much paint on it, the paint is over a 1/4" thick on horizontal surfaces and I am disgusted. He wants to know what we can do and there's nothing we can do, nothing.
[Will meditate sitting up in bed then to sleep with my new SP method:
1. 10 buzz breaths2. reverse blinking3. listening to inner sound current4. feeling gravity fluctuations
[dream yes, written down no]
[Some activities I don't remember] have forced me down the hill. Sudden inexplicable snowfall is a threat. The hill down from the house is long and steep. There are big boulders [acceleration into the Urumara.] I reach a flat terrace which serves as a horizontal road wrapping around the front of the hill. A little girl is pulling a full-size small car by a rope at a strangely high rate of speed--in other words, I WONDER how this is possible--and I tell her not to do that because it's dangerous. I grab her and now she's a tiny puppy, a dark golden brown Pekingese or Tibetan spaniel only about 9 or 10 inches long. I shove the puppy down the hill. I can't FIGURE OUT where the snow went, it's all gone. I proceed on my way, balancing on big driftwood logs that rock when I stand on them. It isn't easy.
[I recall dreaming of T. and maybe LynLyn but don't recall the dream. T. had a dream that SaySay was a zombie and big. Zyruse then came after him but he ran into a TUNNEL where J. and I were and then he was safe. Inside the Tunnel was light not dark, the Tunnel was big, not small, and there were new flat cartons (cardboard boxes not used yet).]
[After some activity that I don't recall] I'm AWARE of being in GV instead of NEVADA CITY FOR A CHANGE, I go upstairs to the mall of health food cafes--a series of small new-agey restaurants, one leading to another. The first, larger, new agier one seems unsuitable or undesirable, but contiguous to it on my right I see a place with funky country food including possibly a pot of potato soup that looks promising. I go over there and look around. There's also a long shelf with fresh produce, very nice looking and inviting food.
The waitress warms up to me right away, she's taller then me, blonde with permanent, middle-aged, high voice, thin, wearing a red and white dress with tiny checked pattern, frilly white apron, white blouse.
She sees me eyeing the vegetables in cream sauce, two flat dishes back where she is, which are right behind the pot of potato soup or whatever it is, which is right in front of where I'm standing. She wants me to decide if I like them. I agree to this, but then she seems to be having some sort of emotional glitch. She asks me why I look so hateful. I tell her I'm "just in a terrible mood, I don't hate anybody."
I go around behind the counter to where she is. She seems frozen in place, as if unable to proceed with what she'd been doing. She starts sobbing, bent over a little, face in hands, and I'm on her right side, gently rubbing her back with my left hand asking her what's wrong. She won't tell me, but then she suddenly laughs and says, "He kissed a man!" I follow her eyes and it seems she's looking at a TV show.
[Will take a bath then do a WILD session. New strategy since stopped last 2x by the Ouchies: as soon as the Itchies start, the strategy is to switch awareness to images, inner sound current, and movages. THIS WILL WORK and the next step is I will hear aurages. That's paralysis. When SP hits, keep eyes closed and build a 3D dream scene by building on existing images and moving into them. Upon finding myself lucid in a dream here is my new Intent Agenda: Say I LOVE THIS PLACE, kneel and kiss the ground, seeing it, tasting it, smelling it, touching it, and if loose dirt, let it run through fingers and hear the particles sliding past each other. Then crawl out of the room quickly, touching objects. When out of dream plot, stand up slowly and turn slowly, see all the surroundings. Then ask to see the Urumara, and check it out thoroughly with all senses, then go through it back and forth to experience it in both directions numerous times.
[Will lie down to try to hold still and wait for Itchies, but no time to WILD, will go to bed immediately after dinner and will do Breathwalking at 5 pm instead of waitng for dark. No more computer time today, prefer two hour walk. Then eat, then to bed.]
[OK session, surprisingly I had some lapse into sleep, very brief, no dream, no Jerk, one instance of Screenshot, very small but stable. The Itchies came one or two itches at a time. I was able to dilute them by actively shifting attention to a different spot and pretending to bave an itch there--worked well--one instance of Ouchies, no problem. Short wind and rainstorm over and done, might still walk despite mud.]
[Living in the Reality Check: Pick an "Awareness Question of the Day" and use Awareness Questions to generate a Magic Mindset, then never do a reality check unless you feel you're dreaming. Awareness Question of the day: "What am I doing here?" "How did I get here?" "Where am I going next?" I know that's three. (Later changed this technique of reality checking to be included in the category What-Just-Happened.]
[To bed, apple juice, B6.]
2017-03-02 1:05 am
Watching/experiencing a performance at the Commune based on dramatic workings out of sexual tension non-sexually. The actress is wrapped in white bandages and manipulating an orange. When told to do something over, she says, "Director, I can to this every time."
[Will use SSILD to unworld now.]
4:15 am earlier
Visiting PK a.k.a. Hugh Leary, we are asleep in a small room in two small beds. I'm angry. It's time to part ways.
[SSILD, apple juice, muggons in mask.]
The old lady and the kid come out of the bedroom and I hide what's on my laptop or magazine because of what's on it. She thanks me for not getting involved in the recent conflagration. What conflagration? I don't even know who she is. I turn over the laptop to the top page and start turning off objectionable material and then I get to a MAP and I try to type a title at the top of it in big black letters: "WHAT TIME IS IT," but I can't stay asleep long enough to get lucid.
[To bed, to WILD, to Urumara.]
[Went into a zero state, not asleep. Talking, chattering, but about what I don't know. Unaware of body. I think it was a non-lucid success?]
Joe C's house, his father's on the phone in the bedroom and Joe and I and SC decide to go thru/past his bedroom to a big room where we can unwind and relax with some medicinal herbs provided by JC. When we get there, after hearing the father's voice booming in the dark and someone commenting about his breathing or fumes condition, I see that Joe has been very generous giving me a nice large quantity of recreational green material for which I thank him profusely and verbosely.
[To WILD again, focus is: don't move, don't think, what happens? Will cycle senses quickly to stay aware.]
2017-03-03 5:30 am
J. and I are eating some YELLOW melon with lots of seeds packed into a hollow center like papaya. I'm scraping seeds off a section when in comes ? and says I should eat the seeds. The melon is delicious, my new favorite, better than honeydew. I have some seeds, so I ask J. if it can be grown and she says yes, so that is my plan for the day, to plant the seeds. I walk toward the garden past the back door where I leave an empty cement sack and over by the treehouse on our side of the property line, Romche is expanding a small rickety structure into something nice, except using particle board and trying to cut it by scoring and tearing it like wallboard, which doesn't work. He tells me what he's making. I say, "It's fucking huge." and feel something prickly under my bare right foot. I look down and I'm stepping on a small square board with small nails started into its corners in pair of nails, I'm stepping on the projecting nail heads.
[To bed, B6.]
2017-03-04 2:30 am
An Aikido practice in various rooms of a barracks-like building. A man with a full beard falls flat on his back, squeals and rolls backward up onto his bed. His attacker now attacks in earnest. I and others stop the attack and I say, "He rolled to save his back," at least twice.
Sensei Smartt is in front of me offering four small bottles, one is orange juice and the others are vitamins he's pouring into the orange juice.
[Represents 4ness, the McWillis Wick, which I will do in bed sitting up, telling the 2-3-4 mind to stay up while the body sleeps. After meditating in bed, I will lie on back and practice WILD.]
[Intent Agenda upon finding myself in a dream is to kneel, kiss the floor, say "I love this place," taste the floor, smell the floor, run dirt through my fingers, hear the sound of the dirt running through my fingers, crawl through a doorway and stand up in the presence of the Urumara. View the Urumara in detail from all sides and experience it in all directions. Remember and record every detail.]
[Will go BTB with muggons in mask. Wick, then lie down.]
[No dreams recalled.]
2017-03-05 1:30 am
[To bed. 1 liter beer.]
My friends are in a club that practices roller skate marathon racing on the shoulder of the freeway at night, which SURPRISES me.
[Woken by dogs. BTB, apple juice.]
[In a dream I don't otherwise remember] I'm telling myself (non-lucidly) that it doesn't matter whether I have lucid dreams or not. It's not that I don't care, it's just that it doesn't matter. As I manage to adjust my mindset to the perfect balance of loving lucid dreams and letting go of them, I morph into a state of ecstasy.
I'm taking Reggie by the hand and trying to explain what I did and why. The complex vent system from a gas stove had to be routed a certain way with big pipes passing under the floor, through walls, up into the attic where complexity gets out of hand, but it was all necessary and I'm trying to explain it to Reggie--who is skeptical--one step at a time so he will understand my LOGIC [when T. wakes me up to help with a project. Having been woken in REM with a hangover canceled by a caffeine-containing headache tablet... not too pleasant and the dream was on its way to prelucidity at least, very detailed, visual, and logic being used systematically.]
[To bed, choline bitartrate 350 mg, intentions: WILD, sleep paralysis.]
[Something about GV.]
In a new town I've just moved to with the help of a church, the church basement has several PLAYER PIANOS in EXCELLENT CONDITION and I'm EXCITED about restarting up my old hobby. I look them over in detail one by one, mentally going over what's going to be involved like getting a parts catalog and a new set of tools, etc. I like the new clean start and the church is nice to me, so I envision making a lot of money and always having plenty of work. The future is bright indeed.
With the pastor [SC], I'm in a man's home [Dream Usher] who's a member of the church and he ASKS about a RINGING NOTE in his PIANO, so I show him the dampers and the deeply grooved hammers and tell him several of the steps to regulating the action in detail. The mans asks where I'm staying and I say, "In his basement," and we all LAUGH. He says, Well if you end up sticking around, look me up and maybe we can do some business. The pastor leads me out of the house RUNNING through the long living room [the Tunnel] over a BEIGE RUG which is rumpled, past the man's wife and her friend. He's in front leading and I LISTEN to him say the man (by mail) had been IN JAIL so his wife left him etc. We go outside and start walking DOWN THE HILL. This place ID's as Lawrence, Kansas. I LOVE THIS PLACE.
A MISSILE FLIES THROUGH THE AIR one block in front of us, there's a huge explosion and I say Jesus Christ DID YOU SEE THAT it's a fucking bomb. Then here comes another bomb and I know we're goners. This is gonna change my sudden good luck streak. The second bomb hits 25 feet behind me, to the right of me about ten feet, and I FEEL THE IMPACT [and wake up too excited to go back to sleep.]
[Back to sleep, WILD.]
[No more dreams recalled, missed a lot of activity, REM.]
[Lying down, no sounds--steady rain--mosquito net, Muggons x3, will WILD/SP Vac-U-Move, Notice images, ALWAYS touch every image.]
[Woke up, try again. Used a method like SSILD but trying to maintain sight, hearing and touch simultaneously. This is harder than it sounds and put me to sleep fast. Had many Awakenings, no dreams recalled. Often woke up swallowing and/or breathing fast, but the panic is pretty well dissipated.
[To bed, choline. Upon becoming lucid I will kneel, kiss/taste/touch the ground, say my affirmation, "I love this place," crawl out of the dream scene, investigate the Urumara from all sides. Will meditate 15 minutes after five minutes of breathing, so will go to sleep at about 9 p.m.]
[No dreams recalled, but first meditation before bed was a success. First I did Buzz Breath for five minutes and was interrupted by J. & T. coming to bed. I lay on my side with my hand on T.'s arm and had surprising immediate waking OBEs starting with a large vision of a crystal dish full of facets and cut into a lotus or flower pattern. Then other visions including going up a set of stairs. These were not hypnagogic, but waking OBEs. In other words, not awake, not asleep, and became lucid after each experience began. I notice the intensely ecstatic visionary state I was in started to dissipate when I took my hand off T.'s arm and lay on my back to WILD, so decided to keep meditating with no sense of purpose.]
2017-03-07 1:15 am
"Put the Whiny Part First"
My dad [SC] is questioning me about who is sending me thses SPIRAL-BOUND BOOKS [like my dream journal] about personal topics with MY NAME printed in them--family history of some sort. He's concerned about the time it takes to produce the books. I agree that the books are hard to make right and I state that if you're very well organized and don't make any mistakes, you can print and bind them quickly. You can get it done efficiently when you develop a rhythm with your routine. But one mistake can set you back for hours and mess up your whole operation. I hope he doesn't think I'm ordering these books. I don't even know where they came from. [Should have been a fogjogger.]
CURIOUS now as to the source of the books, I look at the first page of one because it is the page with my NAME inserted on the page by software. Some of the printing and especially some tablet- or lozenge-shaped buttons are PINK. The buttons are hyperLINKS which say "ENTER AS" and "LEAVE AS". The sheet appears to be an order form for more books as well as an invoice for the one it's bound into. I know who's sending these books. He's in the club. [Bruce Dern, the actor, whose nephew I knew briefly in NC.] The invoice has a series of blank lines for custom orders, with the instruction, "Put the whiny part first."
The hyperLINK buttons EXPAND into TWO LARGE ROOMS in a Convention Center like you might find in a hotel. The two large rooms are separated by an INVISIBLE WALL OR ROPED-OFF AREA separated by a small door [the Urumara] through from one room where I am, into the other where all the activity is [the Projection Room]. I GO THROUGH and stop to INVESTIGATE THE GATE [as per my Intent Agenda]. The gate is controlled by a computer monitor up about HEAD LEVEL [higher chakras] which is an expansion of the hyperLINKs I saw in the book. I now clearly understand that the touch-screen with its animated cartoon characters allows you to select, in regards to the two rooms, who you "enter as" and who you "leave as"--separately from the two rooms. Basically you can leave Room A as Joe Blow while entering room B as someone else. The flexibility is incredible, as you can then leave room B as a third identity and enter room A as a fourth, if you choose--and you can choose any identity, even as a PINK POOKA if you want, like Bugs Bunny or whatever. What's really cool is that you can select for each transition WHETHER YOU WANT THAT WITH OR WITHOUT AMNESIA! SC and I are delivering a DEAD BODY [the comatose 2-3-4 mind] in the DEAD OF THE NIGHT to the house/dwelling of the member who produced the books. I find this FRIGHTENING but it's supposed to be safe. We RUSH THROUGH a long CORRIDOR [the Tunnel] with the contraband [also SC]. We arrive at a sliding screen DOOR [the Urumara], pull it open quickly and jet the body through, slamming the door shut noisily and taking off outta there like a bat out of hell.
[Still 'dreaming'... but this is urum...] In my bed [here at home] I'm in a state of PARALYSIS [the Urumara] when I am stricken by PANIC due to the SOUND OF SOMEONE WALKING on the tin roof outside the upstairs window where we sleep. [Intruder Alert--sleep paralysis]. I face my fear and overcome the paralysis, managing to ROLL OUT OF BED to confront the intruder. [This wakes me up. This was an awesome, long, detailed dream, not lucid but perfectly fulfilling my Intent Agenda. Wanted to re-enter it since I woke in REM but after going over it and falling back to sleep, I managed to get up and write it down.]
[BTB, dream bed, muggons in mask, SSILD.]
[No dreams recalled.]
[To bed, choline, meditation lying down, starting polyphasic sleeping tonight (this didn't catch on, most of related notes deleted).]
[Remember Intent Agenda upon becoming lucid is to kneel, kiss/taste the ground, say "I love this place," crawl out of the plot touching things to make them disapper, go to the Urumara and experience it.]
2017-03-08 1:10 am
[Woke up, no dreams recalled, feeling cheated--five hours of sleep and no REM. Lay in bed not sleeping till 1:30 a.m.]
[Will now meditate and stay up till sleepy.]
[Meditation in dream bed sitting up, then lying down, some breathing, finally dozed off and on and went back to the same dream at least once, maybe twice, then fell asleep again, see next entry. No blanket--cold.]
"Cold Water in My Face"
[B6. This was not a dream, it was an experience. The house represents the euphoria of freeing myself from the constraints of oversleep which forces me into zombie sleep patterns that shackle the spirit to the bed.]
J. and I live in a nice wooden farmhouse in the country. It's autumn or winter, wet and cold, but no snow. There are leafless trees around the house, and mud. I have transcended any kind of sleep schedule and I am euphoric about this. I leave her in bed (it's daytime) and wander about the house ecstatically alone. I take a nap in the bathtub and when I wake up, I remember I forgot to drink my coffee. I pick up the cup and pour it into another cup and then I WONDER why I did that, but I also see that it's just hot water and I forgot to make the coffee. It SEEMS ODD to drink coffee [I've switched to green tea in waking life] so I just use instant since it's just this once and it's no big deal. But I look forward to drinking it. I try to decide whether to put milk in it. I ask J. if she took some of the water and she says yes. I tell her she shouldn't do that as it was only a cup full. I tell her if she wants coffee she should make her own.
I'm outside and having a spontaneous sleep in the car and a voice from a two-way radio keeps waking me up in its intermittent way. I look for the source and it's a big YELLOW road grader parked at the neighbor's house getting ready to go someplace with a man and two boys in the cab. It says "CAT".
I'm having a luxury nap in the same house but I'm woken by the sound of falling water hitting the bottom of a big plastic wash tub like a drum. I get up to investigate and it seems two women are cleaning the floor and one has turned on a water faucet on the kitchen ceiling and just let it run to get the floor wet. I turn it off and the young woman who did it comes back in the room. I tell her in Visayan that there's a bucket, "Naay baldi," and give her a bucket. I tell her it's like a swimming pool in here, "Morag swimming pool." I say, "It's bad for the floor. Madaot ang kahoy," [the wood will rot]. She nods in agreement.
[Still dreaming] I wake up outside still euphoric because I LOVE THIS PLACE. It's nighttime. I'm wearing dark midnight BLUE longjohns which are skin tight on my legs. I am all wet so I rub a bar of soap on my legs through the wet cloth, then WONDER why I did that.
I hear the voices of friends arriving at the house and I'm EXCITED because I've missed them. I go in and the man--small with kinky curly hair [Dream Usher]--doesn't seem to recognize me or was not expecting me to be home, but I say, "Hoy Amigo!" and give him a soul shake. To his right is Barack Obama, who ASKS ME if I'm getting tired of his voice. I say, "I'll never get tired of your voice," and hug him for a long time, laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes. [Dream Usher]
[Woke up euphoric, thought about the dream and went back to sleep but no more recalled. BTW, I am not a lover of Obama, that was the Dream Usher, who often has kinky curly hair, and I am often in instant hate with him or automatic fear, but he is working on me to get me used to him.]
[Back to dream bed which is no longer a bed because I no longer use beds. They are now dream factories. I am free of beds forever, will meditate sitting up, breathing, lying down, anything I want. I am not sleepy, but don't want to turn on the computer. Might start using candles at night.]
[To dream factory, apple juice.]
I return to the Farmhouse [chained content] and I'm in the dining room.
I bend over for something and when I stand up, I notice something ODD touching my head and I look up. It's a thick blanket of cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and swinging back and forth. At the top of it is a big black spider, but not like the spindly one in the garden, this as a big fat hairy one like a tarantula. I'm thrilled and want to show it to someone so I try to call T., but for some reason my voice is very weak [urum]. I try again and no one comes, so I think maybe noone's home. I go to look and call J. but again my voice comes out in an airy squeak. I call over and over, trying to focus Intent, and finally J. [SC] hears me and comes running.
I lead her into the dining room and now as I watch, the fuzzy cobweb blanket turns into a long tall cage of black wires about 11 inches square and 30 inches tall. The more I focus my Attention on the spider, the more agitated it gets, till it's running in circles around the perimeter of the cage walls very fast. I can hear its feet skittering on the wires of the cage walls. I am afraid the cage won't hold the spider and suddenly the spider bursts through between two wires and it's free. I start to say something to this effect, but two words into my sentence I become lucid [and wake up at the same time in great excitement. The cage was the Urumara and the spider was me escaping to lucidity. The excitement of the spider was the Intent generated to keep me awake through the process of getting through the Urumara.]
[I lay still and another dream formed immediately, again not lucid.]
I'm walking along the road [the Tunnel] and Notice a big, friendly-looking man with thin, wispy, short white hair [Whirly] sitting on a bench along the road to my LEFT. I'm not feeling sociable so I ignore him, then I REALIZE I should be more engaged with my... DREAM! [But realizing he is Whirly and I am dreaming doesn't help, I've already 'woken up' or think I have.]
[Woke up to start the 'day'. I am no longer shacked to any schedule including polyphasic sleep schedules; here is my sleep time last night:]
8:00-9:00 p.m. meditation in bed and going in and out of sleep9:00 p.m.-1:00 am sleep1:45-3:20 a.m. meditation in bed and Big Dream3:20-4:00 a.m. recording dreams4:10-5:00 a.m. meditation in bed and pre-lucid dream5:00-5:30 a.m. sleep.
[Approximate sleep time: 4:00 + 1:15 + 0:30 + 0:30 = 5.25 hours max. A good portion of sleep time was REM plus I have more REM waiting for me in daytime naps, because I'm used to sleeping 8-10 hours which is too much, it drowns the 2-3-4 in addictive sleep and unconsciousness. I am no longer a prisoner of any routine of waking and sleeping, I am free.]
[Lying down to breathe/sleep.WILD muggons x2.]
[Outside to whack weeds.]
[Will lie down and try VILD for the first time. My unvarying VILD scenario to visualize while going to sleep is this: I'm in a blue room with a beige rug, white ceiling, green door and rose quartz chandelier. Nitpicker and Potwatcher are there, played by Joe C. and Breeze dressed like workmen. They will run up to me all excited and tell me to get to work because my job is to do two reality checks. I want a big surprise. I rub hands to see if it feels normal and I hop into the air to see if I float or fly. Upon realizing I am dreaming I fall to my knees, french kiss the ground, say, "I love this place!" and crawl to the door touching everything in sight. Once outside, I carry out anything I've had planned in Intent Agenda which right now is going to the Urumara and experiencing it thoroughly from all sides.]
[Lying down now. Just finished second cup of green tea. Was sleepy an hour ago, but not so much now. Taking journal to bed since I always lose good little dreams when I don't.]
[Didn't get all the way to sleep except for a few quick lapses. Did at one point start having images of the blue room and Nitpicker and Potwatcher. At end I had a Noticing in which I got the message "Awesome Possum" but not sure exactly what that's supposed to mean. Also added to the VILD routine in that instead of French kissing the rug, I will see a mirror on the ground and when I look in the mirror instead of seeing me, I see Cwahacoy and french kiss her. The rest is the same.]
[Will now take a second bath and prepare to work on my book.]
[The purpose of my new interrupted sleep routine is not to adopt strictly polyphasic sleep which requires timers and I refuse. But my purpose is to prove that going straight to REM is natural FOR ANYONE who wants it to happen and manages to adopt his OWN natural sleeping rhythm vs. addictive sleeping patterns.]
[Will lie down and continue breathing till dinner.]
[Choline, B6. Lying down to meditate in bed. Will try to wake up around midnight. Will be practicing VILD. To go to sleep after meditation, I will try the mimicking of REM known to the common folk as counting sheep, i.e. moving the eyes from sheep to sheep.]
Three contiguous yards are full of trees, and as I'm getting ready to go somewhere the owner of one tells me that someone will be coming to clean up all the dead limbs that are lying around on the ground due to a recent windy day. I might as well get mine cleaned up at the same time and the neighbor WONDERS whether the third lot, owned by someone who isn't around, might not be due for a cleanup too. I enter the third lot to check. It's kinda spooky because the big trees are so twisty and ODD-LOOKING. I grab a seemingly dead branch hanging down from one tree and pull on it, and big limbs start falling from all the trees in the lot. Fortunately none of them land on me as I cower helplessly. I manage to escape back to the neighbor's house and go into the outdoor bathroom. The neighbor's wife warns me that the floor has been prepared for the cleaners and I see that in fact it is an inch deep in some bright white chemical fluid that will be needed in a chemical reaction. I wade through it trying not to disturb it too much, then I get busy trying to wipe it off my DARK MIDNIGHT PLUE polyester slacks' cuffs.
Romche is driving me somewhere [the Tunnel and the Dream Usher] in my DARK MIDNIGHT BLUE Toyota station wagon, and I'm concerned that he's driving too aggressively and not using fifth gear [the Dream Usher is the personification of 5ness]. I tell myself he's borrowed it a lot in the past and should know how to drive it by now. I can smell and feel the heat from the transmission as he pushes it around corners and up hills.
We're on foot and Romche is showing me a log cabin he's been building for fun as an experiment at his place of work. We're looking from a distance. The structure is in front of his place of work, which is a larger building. The walls lean inward at the top, which I imagine makes it stronger in some way. "It works," he says. I ask what the black stuff is all over the logs, is it tar? He tells me what it is [I forget what he said] and I WONDER about it because it seems ODD.
Inside his place of employment, which is L-shaped, it's a funky down-home diner or restaurant serving ODD specialty stuff and sporting a weird SENSE OF HUMOR. I go to the other end of the LONG BUILDING [the Tunnel], the other leg of the L, and I'm fascinated by a pair of display items up on a high shelf. I seem to be higher than the shelf [but I don't notice this]. I stare at the two papier mache models for some time, one is of a roast pig with a large section sliced out of it. The other is a roast boy, fully dressed in a LIGHT GREEN, old timey jacket and tastefully with no section taken out of him. I'm repeating to myself a SILLY RHYME about roast boy [when J. wakes me up, sure that an INTRUDER is out in the garden by the jack fruit tree I've recently had cut down where some logs lay on the ground waiting for T.'s grandfather to come get the wood. She hollers next door for Toto to come investigate. No one was found, but this was a premonitional dream--all to LOGS figuring prominently.]
2017-03-09 4:20-5:30 am
[To bed, will practice REM breathing, one second in and one second out, fast/irregular compared to relaxed, unconscious sleep breath. Apple juice, eye motion.]
[No dreams recalled.]
[When I was going to sleep, I used one second breathing and random eye motion and lay on my side and visualized as per VILD. Found myself looking at a static full screen pattern, fairly stable, and realized it felt like I was looking through my mask because it was so big and stable. Opened my eyes and the pattern was still there, closed my eyes and the pattern was still there. Decided to try and get up, but was obviously physical and tried to put finger though palm to make sure. Right now I am seriously sleep-deprived, so when I lie down next, I should go straight to sleep paralysis and REM which is my plan. Minor headache, which started while up through the night.]
[Sleep times 3/8-3/9: 8 p.m. to midnight: 4 hours, 4:20-5:30 a.m., 1:10 hrs, 9:30-10:30 am, 1:00 hrs = 6:10 hours total.]
[Lying down to sleep, VILD, muggons in mask.]
[I won't be continuing the polyphasic sleep as I love sleeping a long time and don't feel guilty when I do. Interesting though.]
Here's what works for me and always has. Without apology here is my technique:
1. Lie on back and don't move, at bedtime, as long as possible.2. Focus on Noticing.3. Dream journal.4. Meditate with the object to not think about the past or the future. This dissolves resistance, it works around the Voice of Idiosiffication.5. Breathing sessions with many Awakenings each day.
To bed, WILD, sleep paralysis.
Choline, B6, BTB.
Had a dream... what was it?
A kind Machinist has offered to make me a SLIDE VALVE FOR MY AIR CAR, but a wild man [played by COMEDIAN Jim Carrey] gloms onto me and won't leave me alone, and pretty soon I have a constant companion, business partner and best friend that I don't want. I put up with it, but as soon as he gets his hands on my special valve, he disappears with it, leaving a "so long, Sucker" note in the form of a hand flipping me the bird as well as several images of erect penises. I am in despair and how will I tell the Machinist what I have done?
GV. I'm driving a large old sky BLUE sedan but it has NO BRAKES. I end up getting out at the Lodge which is on the long road [the Tunnel] between GV and NC and I see a woman parking her STRANGE little RED VEHICLE, which is the size and shape of a CHORD ORGAN, but fire engine red. She's very attractive with olive skin, mousy brown hair almost shoulder lenth, cheekbones, interesting face similar to singer CC or friend DF, looks like part Am. Indian.
Inside the establishment she surprisingly accosts me [Cwahacoy] and offers me a ride and I get the impression that she' not talking about a simple ride home. I am very interested, so we go out to the parking lot. Her vehicle has somehow turned into a small red pickup which is MYSTIFYING. I am highly energized by her interest and affection, IOW by her invitation.
She tells me that we have to wait for her mother, and her friend is also riding with us. While we wait, Toto drives up in his pickup with several young white fellas in the back. I say goodbye to Cwahacoy and hoist myself into the black pickup bed which involves doing a PULL-UP since the bed is much TALLER THAN NORMAL. I sit down in the bed and the young man sitting to my LEFT tells me I did a good PULL-UP and I inform him I was just showing off for Cwahacoy. He asks me why I didn't go home with her as she'd invited me to, and I say I feel I should just go with the flow and he disagrees, shaking his head to the negative.
I look around at the young men in the truck. One of them has ABNORMALLY WHITE HAIR and short goatee. The young man driving the truck is going too fast down a STEEP HILL and Toto expresses concern about this, so he pulls off onto a large grassy area to the RIGHT and stops [the Nowhere.]
I get out and make friends with a fuzzy kitten which has a 3-inch-diameter opening in its rear end [the Urumara], which I assume is caused by parasites. I put the kitten down because I'm afraid of getting bugs. I stroke its face which it enjoys very much. Then the kitten starts TALKING to me [but I don't remember about what.]
I wander off toward an area which I remember seeing from a distance where there are many full black trash bags sitting around. People are eating at folding tables and chairs. Over by the tables, I think I see a PINK RABBIT. Sure enough, it is a rabbit, and then another one. This is a big thrill. I wonder if this is a game reserve. Then close to me on the RIGHT I see an opossum with a baby on its back. I WONDER if it's really a raccoon, REALIZE I'M DREAMING [but wake up at the same time.]
[Lying down to WILD, muggons. My intention is to be aware of all parts of the process and experience sleep paralysis consciously, then from there to visualize the dream scene, blue room, pink chandelier, etc., sink into my bed and be unworlded. Dream scene: blue walls, white ceiling, rose quartz chandelier, beige carpet, green door, Breeze and Joe C. in work clothes tell me I have to do two reality checks in order to get a big surprise. They demonstrate the two reality checks by rubbing their hands together and hopping into the air trying to float. I try this and a propellor appears in my hands when I rub them which twirls the propeller and I float. So I know I'm dreaming, I kneel in front of a mirror on the floor and french kiss the girl in the mirror. I say, "I love this place," and crawl out the door touching everything totally lucid and aware and in control, calm, ready to have a long lucid dream in which I investigate and experience the Urumara from all sides.]
[Lying down to WILD.]
[To bed, WILD/SP.]
[WILD session, best ever. WINLD--had a dream!]
[Put T. to sleep.]
[AWK/SP] "I'm going back to the..."
[Non-lucid pre-lucid dream.]
[All times guessed.]
[Meditate in bed, lying down on back.]
[T. and J. come to bed, I put T. to sleep.]
[Lie down on back with mask for WILD induction. Might have fallen asleep, but not sure.]
I'm looking at a scene on a larger than life screen, very close to me, of several Filipino young men with long hair on a motorcycle. I say to myself or hear the words, "I'm going back to..." and wake up in sleep paralysis swallowing hard. I say 'sleep paralysis' because I was swallowing hard, but I didn't check to see if I was paralyzed. I always wake up over and over, swallowing hard during these sessions, but I remembered this time to not panic or start gasping for air. It was earlier in the SP, usually I wake up after SP has faded, but don't know if I was still paralyzed. I think I tend to swallow to dissipate the SP, I used to take several deep breaths in a panic, but learned not to. I went over and over this experience for maybe 20 minutes, was still in a state hovering in and out of the edge of sleep and didn't want to forget the SP or the little dream or the little words. It's apparent to me the "I'm going back to the---' means "back to the Urumara". Since that's what I did, and it's on my Intent Agenda.
At some point I slipped into a long, detailed, wacky dream which was pre-lucid since it is packed with dream cues and the dream character is obviously me trying to communicate with me. I've forgotten the first part where I first meet the dream character, a young man with long hair named Connie and I've forgotten his last name, maybe Tyler which is interesting, see "Btylar" in a lucid dream previous.
Connie is a younger version of me and he lives in a small, square room with a wall missing which doesn't attract my attention. He has a discombobulated project and he's having problems with it as he is high on something that makes him bumble around in a comedic state of confusion messing everything up. [Specific memories start when] he does something wrong by mistake and goes from his typical posture (hanging out of the floor) where's he's sitting on the tiny lawn in front of his tiny house and a force unleashed by what he does jets him head first through the air about 8 feet head-first into a hedge [while writing this, I remembered the intense earlier dream that somehow led into this one. Keep in mind this is all during a WILD session at bedtime on a day when I've already had over 13 hours of sleep in the past 24 hours. In the earlier dream...]
I'm in a chair with my eyes closed and J. has left the room and RM is standing behind me so close that the back of my head touches her pillowy breasts [Cwahacoy]. When wife leaves the room, RM smooshes up closer and I am pleasantly surprised when she pushes down on my forehead so I will relax and let the weight of my head sink back into her breasts. I am ecstatic. I can sense RM smiling behind me, sending me affection telepathically. I am pleasantly shocked, but don't manage to become lucid. I am possibly blindfolded [as in bed I really am, lying on my back], since I sense I am undergoing some procedure that I fail to name [lucid dreaming--but not lucid.]
[Returning to the later dream which somehow grew out of this one or directly followed it:]
I return to Coonie's little place to check on his progress as he was having such a hard time earlier. I'm thinking whatever he's on, maybe I could get a little of it from him. I figure he won't mind if I drop in on him as he's a druggie so why should he care. He's still sitting on the floor in his one-room 3-wall studio, still bumbling with something. When I ask about his progress, he's inspired to grab a NOTEBOOK to write his progress in. It's colorful. Apparently his project involves a snack pack he got from Sunny and Dan which is a clear plastic bag containing a variety of tiny packets of junk foods. And a big beautiful slice of lasagna. Connie has made a mess of his lasagna, it no longer looks appetizing, but I'm starting to think it's Sunny and Dan I should be visiting. I see their address written in his notebook on a GREEN page in big glitter pen handwriting and try to MEMORIZE it by copying it down in stages STARTING FROM THE BACK, checking and re-checking the written words to see that I haven't made any mistakes. [This is an attempted reality check, but not one I've ever incubated; obviously it's being pointed out to me that it's one that I should be using.] The city is Portland, I double check because I don't want to go to the wrong town. I'm sneaking peeks at Connie's private JOURNAL while he's bumbling with it, assuming he will barely notice and not care, since he's nearly delirious and inept [this is my unconscious 2-3-4 which I'm trying to wake up in the dream. Added note: Connie is my 2ness dream body, the Inventor.] The street number is 4830 [and I forget the rest.]
Upon memorizing the address of Sunny and Dan, I find myself in their house. Dan says something that implies he saw something which I think is ODD since he's blind. I look at one of the junk food packs they're importing from another STATE and then I bring up the subject of lasagna, my real reason for being there. Sunny takes me into the kitchen. It's bright and clean [ODD, knowing Sunny.] Sunny is well-dressed in form-fitting clothes and I realize she's looking really nice and not her usual fat slob self. I focus in on her butt since she's wearing tight slacks and I say in pleased SHOCK AND AWE, "Have you lost a lot of weight?" She's happy that I Noticed and then I see dozens of individual big slices of lasagna sitting on a windowsill or something and she tears open one of the packets so I can dig in. The piece of lasagna in it is a corner piece, so odd-looking and mis-shapen, not square, but I imagine that it will taste the same, but then I start to worry about how long this stuff has been sitting around since it has meat in it. I ask if they've been refrigerating it and [wake up].
2017-03-11 12:15 am
[Back to bed, alarm is set for 4 a.m. Apple juice.]
[Alarm didn't go off but I woke up at 5:30 a.m. and didn't write a dream down, now it's forgotten. It ended with [cleaning the white shiny tile floor [the Nowhere] under a grand PIANO, only the pedals did I see and ODDLY there were four pedals instead of three. Using a bulb of material like an old white sock stuffed with other rags and attached to a long stick attached in turn to another stick at right angles to clean between the pedals, but it's not working and the attempt to clean the floor is just getting it muddy.
[Typing dream journal. I don't even remember all the recent lucid dreams I've had, will have to read them.]
[Meditation in bed, choline, B6, then WILD. Don't move upon waking in night. Roll out or float up.]
[Just remembered having an experience of the Urumara during my WILD session. I can only vaguely recall it because I think I was asleep before and after, but I distinctly felt the heart thing and could tell it was not the heart but the Vibes. That's all I remember.]
I try what that infamous astronaut tried--came home early--quit his job and took his ROCKET SHIP home. My doing this fortunately didn't make me as famous as the other guy.
KK is shirtless after being away from the house telling me she must be getting fat because she felt her boobs pushing out against her shirt and bouncy. I taste one and it seems normal to me.
[Back to bed, will WILD/SP.]
2017-03-12 4:00 am
"Sorry I Ruined Your Day"
I have some PIANOS TO TUNE but I'm going to take a side trip to visit my new girlfriend [Cwahacoy] who lives in a big house in a middle-class suburb with her husband, son and father-in-law [Whirly]. My first act of stupidity guarantees I'll have an interesting rest of the day. Instead of leaving my car out on the street, I open the gate and drive in to the garage [the Urumara and Projection Room]. We have a visit, she's a petite and intelligent middle-aged woman with brown hair almost to her shoulders, blue jeans and a mellow smile, easy to get along with, casual, great sense of humor. I gotta go and when we get to the garage to see me off, it turns out that the driveway into the garage is not used anymore (except by me) because it's been turned into a little flower garden. The pansies aren't in bad shape considering I drove over them, but now I have to drive over them again to get back out. This is not something I'm able to just do, so she leaves me to deliberate since she's got someplace else to be, and I say, in a hopefully joking way, "Sorry I ruined your day," and she laughs, encouraging me to go ahead and drive back over the flowers and get where I need to be, and then she's gone. She thinks I am quite entertaining.
That in itself is bad enough, but then to make matters worse, her husband comes out to the garage to help me. He's friendly enough, but he doesn't want me to drive over his wife's flowers, it's bad enough I ruined her marriage, but not the flowers, don't ruin the flowers. I try to plan my escape, what angle to take out of there, and the yard seems oh so long now, then I realize I'm looking out the wrong door; the garage [the Urumara] has two doors, one the short way I came in and another straight through out the back way which goes all the way through the back yard. I mention I'd gotten CONFUSED and go back to the right door.
The husband says I can't do what needs to be done, he has to do it. My way is actually blocked by their old Mercedes, very light GREEN, which I've put a little dent and long white skid mark on by driving straight over it in order to get into the garage. He vetos the idea of driving back over it to get back out, suggesting that the upward slope is prohibitive and my car will drop to the floor and go klunk. I argue that the diameter of the tires is adequate to bridge the gap from the Mercedes' bumper to the ground, but he decides he'll drive my car out the special way that only he knows how. We get in his car instead and he backs it out onto the front porch and down the stairs and off a sheer drop maybe six feet in the air and the length of the car bridges the gap from the drop-off to the ground and we're out with nary a bump or a scratch, and he takes me some place while I WONDER when and how I will get my car.
The husband and I are having a sit-down talk in which I patiently absorb the information that the stealing of his wife was perhaps unwise and even a bit inconsiderate of me, and I can't help but agree that I could have shown better judgement, but he retains a sense of humor about it and we head back to his house on foot, going our separate ways, having apparently agreed we should not see each other anymore as we have no business together. I take the low road and he takes the high road and he gets back to the general vicinity before me, in a hell of huge houses all the same muted YELLOWY-GREEN color. I go back up to the main road, as I've walked on a side road parallel to it and a block down hill from it, and I see he's beat me back as I walked a block too far, so I turn back.
Back at the house, I skip the garage and walk right up to the house as I now doubt my ability to do this alone. As I walk along the front of the house, I look in through a big sheet-window [the Nowhere] and see the man's stocky elderly father from the back where he's sitting on the living room couch [Whirly]. I go in and the man's son decides it's up to him to help me get my car out of the garage, so he takes me out of the house a new way, out the front door, but there's no sidewalk leading away from the front door, so he leads me across the steeply sloping lawn [this is Charlene's house and the Urumara]. The front yard is beautifully landscaped with numerous idyllic waterways and I admire it in detail as we try to get across it all with dry feet, but he says he hates it and says it was all put in to impress visitors, but is very impractical.
Back in the garage, I'm ready to just drive the car out, but the son has a better idea. My car is up on a 30" tall concrete rise with an abrupt drop [the Urumara]. This is actually where I talk about the tire diameter being able to bridge the gap, but I have my doubts, and the son proceeds to build a ridiculous, rickety ramp with two stacks of small rectangular objects the size of shoe boxes, and a thin wooden GREEN window shutter on top of that as a ramp. I look under the shutter and a scissors jack is set under it, but the ramp's not even touching it. The son is rushing to fill the gap with something when the father shows up, saying No no no, not like that and starts disassembling the son's ramp, and on his heels the big, stocky, square-faced, redfaced grandfather pops in with a happy grin, leaps into the air, his gray hair swirling around, and says in an enthusiastic tone [a word I forget but it could have been "Whirly" for all I know--I recognized the word at the time and it upset me somehow.] Oh no, I'm thinking, more helpers, I could have done this alone [and wake up rolling over in Vibes thinking why did I roll over, I have to make it literally my life's goal and religion to not move when I wake up. But did I really roll over, or was that my dream body rolling into place, i.e. wakefulness? What I should be doing upon waking is an immediate reality check in case I'm still unworlded in the Nowhere. I remained still then and thought about rolling out, but nothing happened] and I'm back in the garage with the woman's husband. I've brought a collection of photocopies to show him about our project, whatever that is, some for him and I have my own copy in a clipboard, the papers organized by being stapled into groups.
But where is the one I want to show you? I flip through and mention I want him to see the patent but it looks like I didn't even bring it, so he holds out his copy of it and then he starts showing me and explaining a diagram of a big press with a spindle and a one-way ratchet-toothed thing built into it and I [wake up.]
[This was an incredible experience of being mentally stuck in the Urumara with two ways out and more helpers than anyone could ever want and still totally stymied by the unwillingness to just go through. The mental fear seems to revolve around a sheer drop off at the beginning of the motion which I hope to avoid. This drop-off is the drop with a Jerk back into the 2-3-4 mind which would wake me so it should be avoided. But when SHE invited me at the very first to simply just back out over her flowers, that was the way to go, because at that point there was no blockage (except the wee flowers) and to drop off, it was a level, slightly sloped, short distance to the fence [the Urumara] and out into the Unworld. What an amazing and instructive experience. The key then is to go with the first opening because hesitation creates it own blockages and it gets more and more muddled and more seemingly impossible if the moment of opportunity is not seized immediately from the get-go.]
[Back to dream bed, mask, apple juice, WILD/SP, decisively exit the Urumara to the Unworld, grab the opportunity. Don't think about it. Slim down the 2-3-4 and get through it.]
[Very close to WILDing several times with found scenes forming but each time I overfocused and the scene dissolved. Used two-second cycling and eye movements to go out. Very close to success. Have to pack for farm trip.]
[Lying down. T. wants me to tell him a story of my dream, so I'll try to tell the dream I had last night.]
[I know based on last night's dream in which Whirly appeared as son, father and grandfather and Cwahacoy introduced it to get my attention and I was given lots of insight into the dynamics of how I fail to go through the Urumara and even fail to back out of it... I know I will have a lucid dream or three tonight, so no need to do any techniques. I am extremely tired physically from working on the farm, then going to Panabo, so I'm just going to meditate myself to sleep. Alarm is set for 4 a.m. Apple juice. THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR LUCID DREAMS. Remember to do reality check immediately upon waking, because perceived motion of body is not physical, it's real; there's a difference. Because the motion of the dream body is real and feels the same as the motion of the physical dream body.]
[Woke up 20 minutes ago and it was raining. The experience I was having was undescribable, so I went to sleep and woke up several times trying to figure out how to describe it. As these altered states are harder to remember than visual dreams, it's even harder now. I'll just have to be satisfied with saying that I was experiencing a series of absolutely incredible and amazing states of clarity or lucidity that I could never hope to describe. I am going to meditate myself to sleep again. THIS NIGHT IS RESERVED FOR LUCIDITY. Remember to remain motionless and do a reality check immediately upon awakening, even if you "think" you have already moved. Remember Intent Agenda WHEN I become lucid.]
2017-03-13 1:55 am
[Back to bed, couldn't sleep after the Awakening mentioned above, because I was so excited by whatever happened, so I got up and wrote a script for a You Tube show which will include self-hypnosis and New Age Ned and the 2nd Coming of Carlos Castaneda and AP/LD and Luther Limbolust and the Last Stand Band and the Breath of Flight, air cars, Campbell Hot Springs reunion. Time to grow a beard.]
[Still raining after all these months.]
Bad weather has kept me away for a day, but it's just snow after all and it's springtime for crying out loud, so act like it. [Last Monday before summer vacation.] When I get to the big old wooden house that's being used for a church or school, someone's already upstairs on the covered front porch shoveling snow down the outside steps leading up to it [Solid Rock--Kansas].
Walking across town in the dark, all is deserted and the snow is slush, the water is deep. My reflection on the BLACK VOID of the police car hood is... black... [Miracle Mile, Stockton].
Arriving (daytime) at the Facility, the Boss [Rick of the Solid Rock Singers], dressed like a 70s swinger or pimp. The others, young people in their 20s, file up to the gated, tall, chain link fence [the Urumara], surrounding the Facility together in single file wearing their official T-shirts. I'm a little surprised everyone showed up.
[Last night and also I think the night before I have been able to mentally view] images larger than the screen. There's nothing in the scene that's moving or even fully lit, but the scenes are all self-generated and detailed, and I keep watching for a minute or so. [Mostly last night I recall] front porches [the Urumara], house after house, but as if a catalog or huge showroom in the Unworld for porches and such because there's no real gap between them, no yards, my attention just moves steadily from one to the next and they're at all angles vs. being lined up to face a street (no street).
[To bed, will meditate lying down with mask and WILD. Children talking in the room, but that rarely bothers me.]
2017-03-14 12:30 am
At a college dorm, a statuesque blonde woman needs my help with something and it's very involved, a big hassle and it takes a long time. When the job is done and she's in a state of near collapse but we can finally leave, another statuesque blonde pipes up, insisting that I simply must help her with a similar project. I say, "I'm sorry, I really wish I could help you, but I can't." [Details forgotten except ending.] A BLUE FOLDER is involved [like the one this journal's in except sky blue.]
The big bright GREEN lizard is on the bed next to where she's working. I guess it's OK then it starts peeing all over the bed, thick gelatin-like pee. I pick the lizard up and try to not let the pee get on anything that can't be washed.
[Long dream, details forgotten until] we're going back with the long truck loaded with dirt. Going down the long road [the Tunnel]. I hear a radio and tell the truck driver to stop. I get out and find the radio that I recall and I know who it belonged to [from the earlier part of the dream]. It's still on even though it's smashed to pieces. The two wires dangle and I don't want to touch them and get electrocuted. There's something bugging me about the missing electrical source--no battery--and the truck driver tries to send me telepathic messages about this, but I [don't get lucid and the alarm clock wakes me up.]
[BTB, choline, B6, apple juice.]
[Don't want to be awake. The inner sounds are too loud and I have a sore throat starting.]
[Visual WILD to bed.]
2017-03-15 1:15 am
"And How Many of You Kids Were There?"
Mr. Murray [the Boss or Whirly] is driving me and [Cwahacoy] to wherever our destination(s) are at night, summer, Stockton. She's sitting in the middle and I don't know her, but I want to. And yet sometimes she's S. my "sister-in-law" [but much sillier and much, much friendlier]. I'm conscious of her being aggressively sexual and innocently friendly at the same time and I can't tell the difference, can't quite gauge her real intentions.
I do know that I want what I want, but I'm behaving myself because Mr. Murray is an old man and wouldn't want me making out with anyone in the front seat of his car while he's driving. I have a ridiculous fantasy that she's going to try to talk him into the three of us getting a hotel room for a couple hours. I dismiss this as a weird idea after wondering what names we would write on the register.
Mr. Murray brings up gangs or guns or wonders what part of town we're in or something and he has a question about something he's trying to word properly, and I fill in the blank as the term "draw fire" and then clarify it as "draw gunfire". There's a self-conscious silence and I don't really intend to be the one to take it upon my rather non-conversational self to break the ice, but I decide what the heck, why not, and I relate the story of the time "there were kids cruising [bumper to bumper is the word I couldn't remember] all the way up Pacific Blvd and I witnessed a teenage gang gunfight right in front of the parking lot where the Postal Center was. [Which really happened in real life when I worked for Mr. M. at the real Postal Center, but I was driving alone past our strip mall when it happened so I got to tell him the story next day at work.] Mr. Murray asks, "And how many of you kids were there?" [in my car.] I tell him it was just me.
Cwahacoy is holding my hand openly and sending me pure lust vibes, I'm going crazy. She's dressed in a way I find sexy, in blue jeans and a thin black hoody. While we're sitting at a stop light getting ready to go over the river to the main downtown area which is one destination, she has a communication with him that I don't understand, but I decide she must have asked him to take a detour through the park on the LEFT [the Nowhere], since that's what he does.
Cwahacoy sits on my lap, and my life is complete, but at the same time, it's not, because we're being chaperoned. While she was shifting over to sit on me I noticed she was braless. Since I am self-conscious, I steady myself in the moving car by planting my left fist in the car seat and maintaining that posture when I could accomplish the same thing more easily, naturally, and pleasurably by holding Cwahacoy around the waist, but I am conscious of Mr. Murray's having to be patient and tolerant of the young lady's ODD behavior and I am becoming more aware that she and I are related.
She is aware of my discomfort and my pleasure and she talks around it by saying that she's deeply interested in both LUCID DREAMING and [sex but she doesn't say that word directly.]
I am excited that she's interested in LUCID DREAMING and I want to express that this is also my main interest, but I'm tongue-tied. I feel that her weight on my lap is unnaturally slight and I WONDER how she manages to [partially levitate herself or reduce the effects of gravity. I wake up, badly wanting to go back to this pre-lucid dream, but also want to get up and write it down. This was the dream I asked for, but don't know what it means. Notice Cwahacoy's talent at getting my attention and then trying to change the subject to dreaming, but I didn't catch the drift.]
"There's a special tent for the lucidity guy" [above title doesn't reflect content. It came when I fell asleep for only a second while trying to talk myself into getting out of bed to write this down:]
I have a box of BOOKS and a hand truck. I walk to Karen's house with them and my energy transfers to the hand truck so once it's rolling, it pulls me instead of my pushing it, so I just let my feet SLIDE FLAT on the pavement. I cut across a parking lot hoping people see me [Limberluck loves to show off his talent when flying]. I get to Karen's house, use my key to go in, she's not there, leave my stuff, go out, she and DR and Charlene and others are there preparing for a journey. We all have to go to the airport.
GOT OFF PLANE [the Urumara] to change planes. Waiting in a special area with SC, outside. Two military guys visible straight ahead through a picture window [the Nowhere] in a darkened room [the Projection Room] signal to us with hands to hide or get down and not move. A group of military guys go past us with bully guns [?] etc. into a door on RIGHT. [the Urumara]. Some Filipino police get us, take us inside and make us kneel on the floor. Others are brought. A line of dancers of all sizes is brought in to stand in front of us so other customers won't see us. I get up for a second and when I turn my back on the other kneeling prisoners, they disappear. I decide I can disappear too--no guards.
I find DR and Charlene and tell them about how the prisoners all disappeared so I did too. They're in a cafeteria eating big nasty pieces of fried chicken. DR says he could have ordered pizza if he'd known I'd be coming. Our flight will be delayed due to the military operations.
DR tells me to follow him. He goes through a busy conference room with suits around a long table. He's also wearing a suit, but he looks too young from the ack. He enters an office and when he turns to the side, it is him. I follow him in and we sit at a desk. A serious looking androgynous black person with a name [I forget], smallish [the Dream Usher], I tell her [I see small projections where breasts might be] that I'm ready to begin my job delivering pizza in the airport. She asks me "How would you feel about delivering pizza with unusually CLEAN WHITE CAP PAPER?" I'm not sure what that is--maybe the wax paper the pizza sits on inside the box--but it doesn't matter and I tell her it doesn't matter because I already have a job "and I live in Grass Valley." Without hesitation she ignores me and turns to the applicant on my LEFT and I leave.
[BTB ready to lucid dream now.]
[Pizza is a Personal Lucidity Object, maps, books, quartz, music instruments, bookstores, library, Whirly, Mr. Murray, Cwahacoy.]
[Breathwalking and 20 min meditation on bridge.]
[To bed for WILD session. Object is to experience the onset and duration of sleep paralysis with full awareness and see for myself what's on both ends of the sleep paralysis experience.]
2017-03-16 3:20 am
"Wow, Best French Fries I Ever Tasted"
At a concert with a friend, we agree that we should find some acid. He arranges some folded-up dollar bills in his pocket so they'll be easy to whip out when he finds his source. It's the wee hours so we go out for a walk and I trust he knows where he's going and what he's doing, because I sure don't. He takes the high road and I take the low road and we are to rendezvous two cafes away so that's what we do. [He is SC now.] Inside, the score is made and the variety we choose is numbered like a fertilizer. Something like 79-XX-XX. The stuff is on a sort of wedge-shaped lozenge about 3/4" long x 5/8" wide x 1/2" thick. Looks like xmas candy. I bite it in half along the length and prepare myself for a wild ride [the Urumara].
I'm in the back part of the JETLINER on a floor with a GREEN carpet [the Nowhere]. I JUMP UP AND DOWN [Like the REALITY CHECK I did while breathwalking today] and it makes the plane go out of control for a few seconds. I am sent a telepathic message by the pilot to not move around while standing on the tail of the airplane and I imagine myself standing outside on the tail of the aircraft moving around on purpose to destabilize the flight.
My female companion [SC] and I are ready, so to speak, to JUMP OUT OF THE AIRCRAFT. She/they are distraught and as a result I am TRYING TO BE FUNNY and brave, but I have never been so scared in my life [the Urumara]. I ask her if she's going to shit [a line from Castaneda]. Finally joking time is over, the countdown has begun. Time for ONE MORE JOKE. I say, "It's just like jumping into water, except you don't slow down so fast..." And it's time to jump [the Urumara].
The time to DROP THE NUCLEAR DEVICE FROM THE AIRPLANE has come and gone, and now it's too late. Now it's gonna blow up in our faces. I am prepared to die, and die we all must, because we have no choice. My mother and my two sisters [SC] and I stand in a lobby area of the airplane in a tight huddle and wait for the end. I get tired of waiting and sit down on the foam couch that I'm standing in front of and my mom chastises me for being willing to die sitting down. I stand back up, but I'm mentally begrudging her for making sure that I'd die doing what I am told.
My arch-enemy Danny is trying to cut the plastic bag, which is several thicknesses, off the outside of the nuclear canister which is aluminum textured with annular scratches, five feet long and five inches in diameter. He's having a tough time because he's trying to hold the bomb up with one hand at one end while slicing through the several thicknesses of translucent plastic starting from the other end where the base of the canister rests on the floor. I decide I might as well help him even though he hasn't voluntarily spoken to me in 7 or 8 years. I hold the free end of the canister in the air while he starts at the base with his little pocket knife and slices longitudinally along the cylinder, finally freeing it from its plastic sheath. There now, when it blows up in our face at least that ugly plastic won't be on it.
I notice that the pilot has taken the aircraft down nearly to ground level such that the landing gear should be brushing the tops of the FENCES we keep passing over [the Urumara]. I'm SURPRISED he can fly so low. I guess this way, when we land, the bomb can go off in a place where fewer will die. Lots of good that will do us, we won't be able to run fast enough to get out of the vaporization zone and if we did, we'd still die of radiation poisoning. I'd rather be vaporized.
I see Superman is doing his part to save the day, running like a speeding bullet straight through buildings, making a beeline for the bomb, and leaving behind himself a TUNNEL of destruction. I see he didn't bother to change his clothes and he's too small and his hair is brown [the Dream Usher]. I hope he makes it in time or we're toast.
And now the damn thing won't go off. Kind of a letdown in a way. Here we are with our thumbs up our butts looking at each other like duh, we're not melting, the bomb is a dud, and the day is shot, now what are we going to do? I had some martyrdom planned and now I'm just bored.
Parades and celebrations spring up spontaneously in celebration around the world. The evil woman who planned all this is watching through a telescope and we watch her on TV, it's all a melodrama coming to an end. She is so happy that I get choked up for a second. Her plan worked. By pretending to send a nuclear bomb to a US city, she reinvigorated the anti-war movement and the band is playing Hail to the Chief. The show ends and I remark sarcastically, "Wow, best french fries I ever tasted," implying that if the bomb had been real, I wouldn't be eating the cold, greasy, shrivelled things.
[I wake up with a sore throat.]
[BTB, dream bed, mask. Flying machines are Personal Lucidity Objects. Will return to dream and get lucid this time and carry out my Intent Agenda.]
In a cluttered place [that IDs as my real upstairs apartment], well lit, I stumble on a box of stuff that's for RED-haired Mike from L. Pizza, mostly a set of CDs which indicate to me that he is an expatriate who prefers Sudanese women. I TRY TO REMEMBER if this is true about Mike because it's SURPRISING. [In real life I don't even know where Sudan is.]
[After being woken by activity in the room and drifting in a light sleep.]
Downstairs [this house] on front porch are two dogs that act like they live here. I recognize them and I'm TRYING TO REMEMBER where they live. I decide they're from Tiyay Betha's house. I pet the beautiful long-haired black-and-gold one and it clamps onto my hand with its teeth and I assume this is an act of affection since it DOESN'T HURT. [See also a lucid dream in which a bird clamps onto my finger with its beak and I become lucid. This was Smudgely trying to wake me up.]
[Awoken again in REM and I have a physically HEAVY FEELING OF DREAD which I am sure is in reference to a state I will go into if I go to sleep again [the Urumara]. Maybe I was in sleep paralysis, or on the verge, or just coming out, because I'd been in and out of vivid dreams, reading CD labels, trying to use my memory, etc.]
[Meditation, gazing with eyes open, looking at four corners of a box too large to see. This made me sleepy, so after about 20 minutes, I closed my eyes and had about six Awakenings.]
[AWK1] Cwahacoy gets on my lap and wakes me up by grinding her crotch into me.
[AWKlast] I'm staring into a black void.
[Lying down to breathe only. The objective is to achieve tetany, i.e. to breathe as if I was paying someone $50 an hour to say "more air" every time I give in to the resistance and slow down.]
A complex journey by foot on the RIGHT side of the road [the Tunnel] in daytime ends when the road does. The footpath continues a little ways into the desert, but someone's planting prickly pear cactus on it so rather than fighting the obstacle course of gardeners to the end of the trail [the Urumara], which is already in sight anyway, I decide to go across where the road would be if the road hadn't already ended and go back the way I'd come on the other right side of the highway.
This crossing is not difficult as the fat old hobbyists who are puttering in the pockmarked landscape of crenellated structures obligingly get out of my way and I go right across. On my right is the roof of the Museum and Entertainment Center dedicated to what someone calls the "Russian" oceanographer. You mean Jacques Cousteau? I say, then WONDERING why they'd speak of him as Russian when he was French. The off-yellow roof to my RIGHT is designed in CONCENTRIC RINGS, and straight ahead is a wide staircase leading up a little into a series of GLASS DOORS [the Urumara/the Nowhere] which are another way into the seaworld or entertainment complex.
At the top of the stairs on my RIGHT I see a poster in large fancy PINK letters on SHINY WHITE cardstock about a gypsy new age act named Sistene, but I also telepathically hear the name and it's being pronounced in a stagey pseudo-European way, not like the Sistene I knew. But still I think it might be her since an accompanying act is spelled similar to her daughter A., although that name is spruced up quite a bit to something like Aisharaa or the like. I'm in a revery about whether or not to seek them out when I [wake up].
[BTB, bad cold coming on.]
2017-03-17 12:30 am
[J. moves in the bed and I say] "People talkin' and movin' around, I can't stay asleep for five fuckin' seconds!" [I thought I was awake, but got to thinking about it and realized I was not. I said this as a dream body. This is the most vivid false awakening I've ever had so far.]
[BTB. Apple juice.]
"In the Hall of Crappy Inventions"
In a big concrete building resembling a parking garage, but having the functionality of an amusement park among other things, I'm in an upper story and the object of interest is a RED rectangular metal box with wheels and windows which people ride, but it doesn't work very well and the area is roped off for non-use. I've been in there trying to look at it, but some people--a small group of children and their chaperones--get in it and turn it on. It rolls sideways down a short slope due to the influence of gravity and slams into a barrier [the Urumara] that's too short and I'm afraid it will topple over and hurtle into the VOID below [the Nowhere], but the impact causes a heavy magnetic arm to unfold out of the roof of the car and hinge down to slam into the side of the car which changes its direction. It goes through a short cycle of klunky actions like this, all of which hardly seem likely to work, and finally it careens off course and takes off the WRONG WAY DOWN A LONG WIDE CORRIDOR [the Tunnel] with its occupants screaming in terror. I run up to it and stab the OFF button and save the day.
I EXIT THE AREA THROUGH A DOOR [the Urumara] and it seems we're in an office area for officials only, so I hope I don't get caught. I drop TWO RED PENCILS on the floor and hope I don't get accused of impersonating an official. I go through a SHORT HALLWAY THROUGH A DOOR into the big common area [through the Urumara into the Projection Room.]
Here comes AZ and due to my heroism she's become interested in me again. We appear briefly at her grandiose estate with its YELLOW-flowered vast lawns [the Nowhere] and then we're back. She talks about other blondes I have known and I generate pseudo-memories to fill in the blanks. One was someone I met when both of us returned to high school FOR SOME REASON which seems ODD. The other is Jaya.
[Another dream about the Urumara which continues:]
Sitting across a table from the Inventor [my 2ness dream body] an old man who's invented a magic sealing device, I fiddle with the thin rubbery two-layer thing trying to get it to fit around the lip of an ovaloid cylindrical container, but it seems discombobulated in some way. He assures me that his invention is just fine and finally I discover that this piece is just too short to go around the bottle and I suggest overlapping two pieces and hoping that the overlay area's double thickness doesn't cause a problem. Either that or splice two pieces end-to-end with a tiny piece of skotch tape.
[The RED train going sideways--the wrong way and almost toppling then careening out of control is symbolic of trying to unworld in an emotional state.]
7:20 -7:55 am
[Meditation, gazing, green door.]
[To bed, WILD, Choline, B6. Unworld here I come.]
2017-03-18 4:40 am
[Earlier I woke from a dream and moved once, then stopped and remembered to wonder whether the moving body was the 2-3-4 or the dream body. I was quite sure it was the 2-3-4, but was still pondering a test when suddenly I realized there was a small spinning, round Screenshot and it was turning both directions. Part of it was turning clockwise and part of it was turning counter-clockwise. I focused on it and it started to fade, so I spread focus over the whole visual field evenly and I was suddenly in vibrations. I focused on the Vibes and they dulled, so I backed off and the Vibes increased strongly and then I was gone. I don't know if the following non-lucid dream took place right then or if it was later.]
We've had quite a party in the swimming pool behind my friend's house and I am assigned the task of draining it. I easily find the homemade wooden plug and let the pool drain about halfway and then put the plug back in and let it start filling.
Later I see that the pool is very muddy so I go to Breeze [SC] and ask him for his permission to pull the plug again so I can drain the pool the rest of the way and scrub it properly, which is how someone mentions Edwin had done it in preparation for my visit. That way it might still be filling when the parents/landlords get back but at least it would be clean. My plan is approved.
I ask J. which part of the pool the plug is in, as I've forgotten. She starts in waving her arms and pointing and using imaginary landmarks so I say no and grab a rectangular small newspaper and tell her to point to the right area, which she starts to do, but then reverts to her former method of description, so I say here is this landmark on one end of the pool, where is the plug.
[Lots of details forgotten, kind of foggy like me as I have a bad cold.]
[Meditation, eyes open, inside the big green screen.]
[I'm going to lie down now and unworld directly. I'll do this by becoming aware of my motionless body. I will watch it lose consciousness, but I will not lose consciousness. I will experience the Urumara including sleep paralysis. I will experience merging with dream bodies and moving into the Unworld. I will Notice feelings of motion while my 2-3-4 body lies still. I will Notice images that appear with my closed eyes covered by a mask. I will Notice inner sounds. Eventually I will merge effortlessly with one of these Noticings and I will be in the Unworld ready to carry out my Intent Agenda.]
[I hovered near sleep till 3:10 with many swallowings-awake. I have a cold and a raw throat and lots of phlegm. Then I peed and laid on my side and climbed the Beanpole a couple times. No dreams recalled.]
[To bed, WILD/SSILD, upon becoming lucid I will go down on my knees and say, "I love this place." If there is a mirror on the floor I will kiss it and then I will crawl toward the green door touching everything I see, go out of the room and experience the Urumara from all sides, remembering everything.]
A dream of doing arithmetic, applying a multiplier to learn something about [the Urumara?] depending on the size of the hole or the air temperature? Abstract but very vivid. Was aware that temperature was superfluous, but was trying to apply Charles' Law as a direct proportional increase of something per change of degree temperature.
[BTB, apple juice.]
2017-03-19 1:40 am
At night I get off a highway exit where it says I-70 and instinctively take one of three roads available from the same exit [through Tunnel out the Urumara into the Projection Room]. I immediately doubt my choice when the exit is not going to an interstate Highway, but then I decide I did the right thing when I RECOGNIZE the place I end up as a FAMILIAR steak house. I pass up some PARKING PLACES to the LEFT of the restaurant which is on my RIGHT, and TURN RIGHT to position my CAR in front of the place, CAREFULLY BACKING MY CAR INTO A PARKING SLOT, of which there are many, as it is very late at night. I am COMFORTED IN MY HOMELESSNESS [Limberluck] by the cozy solitude of this country steak house which is well-known to me. I anticipate living here in my car for a while, rejecting the notion that I have anything to fear [Limberluck]. I put my car under a street light so anyone can see I have nothing for them to steal. I will be socializing with other homeless people in this parking lot. I get my WALLET out of my large glove comparment and a dark BLUE HOODED SWEATSHIRT is stuffed in there. I leave the glove compartment open so anyone can see I have no valuables. [A typical bittersweet Limberluck mood. He really enjoys being free of society's expectations. My next dream will be totally LUCID and I will remember to DEEPEN by contact with the FLOOR and will encounter the Urumara.]
[BTB, apple juice.]
[No dreams recalled.]
[BTB apple juice.]
[At 1:40, 6:10, 7:40 a.m. I woke up from dreams about restaurants. The details of the dreams of no concern, it just seemed like garbage from having a bad cold and unable to breathe well. Snot dreams. What impresses me is the recurring theme which means I was trying. Also interesting is the fact that my REM cycles were exactly 90 minutes apart. I've never paid any attention to this before because I don't like alarms, but I should do an investigation since I have so many dream journals.]
[Also the border between Nevada and California (the Urumara) figured in the 2nd and third dreams.]
[The first dream was recorded in detail, but after that, I was consciously trying to keep Awakenings short so I could try to return to the same dream over and over. I think I succeeded in this more than I know, because the dog was downstairs, pounding in the front door for her belated breakfast every so often, so I had many Awakenings.]
[The most lucid part of the 2nd dream:]
I find an unopened envelope in my GLOVE COMPARTMENT--see first dream--which I'm using as a filing cabinet all full of papers. I remember having purposely PLANTED this here so I'd have the pleasure of discovering it later. I eagerly open it to see the amount which is $250 + and I feel that will go nicely with some other money I've managed to accumulate. [In the first dream which ended with me finding my wallet in the GLOVE COMPARTMENT before exiting my car outside a FAMILIAR restaurant, also recall that Limberluck always seems to have a little money on him which is odd since he's always homeless or as in this case the restaurant where he works [2nd/3rd dream] is his home [first dream]. Also recall that my first ever OBE 1980 I WAS Limberluck physically. I had a uniform, a backpack, a beard, and I was in a non-stop ecstasy from breathing MATIW 24/7. LIMBERLUCK is my magical mindset. The purposeful poverty is detachment and the money is value. And in my first OBE I found some money in my backpack. This money is the energy that CC is always talking about saving by eradicating self-importance etc. This is what I talk about as "building up" between unworldings. By the way, dreams do not use this "money" up, they generate it. Which is the point of dream journalling. ALL this leads to gralthy, a chapter I'm now read to grok out of a rote.]
[Back to Dream 2] I explain to someone [SC] that I've no doubt been fired from the job where the old paycheck is from as I left six months ago and never gave notice. I consider calling them up to say goodbye now. SC asks me [mindfulness training] where the job was [trying to make me lucid]. I THINK HARD and say it was in Nevada. [Dream 3.]
[The most lucid part of this dream revolves around a beatuiful woman [Cwahacoy--from an OBE video I watched yesterday on youtube] with long curly blonde hair in a bright YELLOW dress who is (I explain to SC) a professional singer which is why she's hanging out on a barstool, she's between gigs, not a floozy. She's silent and statuesque, but I know that her regular venue is not here, but at a place called "Very Big Rock" which is an entertainment resort on the BORDER of Calif. and Nev. [the Urumara].
[Dream 3] My immediate supervisor is a woman [SC] who has been making some decorations for the restaurant, with ornamental bushes, large sections of which she has left cut up and scattered around the kitchen. I WONDER whether it would be premature of me to gather these up and throw them away, so I delay for a while, but later I decide I should go ahead and do it, since the wheeled trash can has a fresh liner in it and nothing else in it except a little rice on the bottom, so if she were to catch me throwing stuff out prematurely, she could just take it out of the trash because it won't really get dirty.
I take the trash can out to the dumpster. It's a sunny day, GREEN GRASS [the Nowhere] and BLUE sky. I find a mass of molten candy bars out of their wrappers which I know to be three "3 Musketeers" bars all molten together into a large, lumpy mass. I know there's a small, medium and large candy bar in the mass I hold in my HANDS. The mass is a grayish, unappetizing brown color about 8" x 6" x 5" and it looks like very unhealthy fecal matter. I imagine it might be sweet and tasty and cleaner than it looks, but I decide to bypass that experience as it would be too sweet for my tastes and it really does look like shit.
[The above pages were written about three dreams I thought were too boring to bother writing down, when I woke up. Dream journal is an amazing self-invigorating process.]
[Just realized that the blonde woman [Cwahacoy] in the dream above was the same as the one in a dream where Limberluck and she looked at pictures while sitting on the edge of a hole. She was from Tennessee but arrived on a BLUE BUS.]
[Earlier this morning J. was carrying a big ugly armload of disorganized dirty dishes into the kitchen when T. was standing at the sink brushing his teeth. A big knife was pointing out of the pile directly at T. when she passed behind him and he took a step backward at the same time. I hollered and he stepped forward or something, anyway the near slicing open of his back was narrowly averted by my bark. Just now it occurred to me that it was my dream body that pushed him forward, which I experienced as a shout at the time, but now I remember seeing my dream body shove him forward (I was also standing right there).]
[Meditation, eyes open, Nowhere Room.]
[Lying down, dream bed, SSILD.]
[Had a thought--as usual awoken many times in the midst of swallowing hard to allay some fear--I have to reprogram myself with intent to replace the swallow with something useful such as Noticing. If I could develop a love of this state I would be attracted to it and find myself coming into the Projection Room instead of snoring myself awake over and over. Good session, remained close to the borderline of sleep, many Awakenings. WILL LUCID TONIGHT.]
[To bed, SSILD, choline, B6. Got up to type old journals, BTB, no time written, neozep.]
2017-03-20 12:55 am
[No dreams recalled. Apple juice.]
Cleaning a concrete area with hose.
In Greg Anderson's parent's house with him--he's an adult, they're in their bedroom asleep--night--I have a hand-rolled cigarette, he leads me out the front door, I drop the cig and pick it up off the BEIGE carpet. I'm worried about waking his parents up. He has some peeve about me needing permission to do anything--forogt the rest.
In a mine TUNNEL created by Breeze to find QUARTZ CRYSTALS, the entrance to the tunnel is near the top of a CLIFF [the Urumara].
[I keep meaning to record an AWK I had when I started meditating again in which I looked up into a big BLUE sky and saw two big BIRDS flying across the open sky. That evening when I was breathwalking I looked up for some reason and saw a big hawk or eagle fairly close to the gound. This is interesting in light of the amazing hawk encounter I had once when I started meditating again after some time off.]
[No dreams recalled, apple juice.]
[I think keeping track of sleep periods (90-minute REM periods) is a good idea as it builds anticipation like "I'll be lucid in only 90 minutes". Also I think I'll devise DDILD or "deep desire induced lucid dreaming," that is to fall asleep fantasizing about all the great things you could do if you could unworld at will such as write books and give seminars etc.]
2017-03-21 12:20 am
[No dreams recalled.]
[No dreams recalled.]
[Tried to memorize the dream instead of getting up to write it down, so most is forgotten.]
In a barren environment there is an elevated highway [the Tunnel], below which the Homeless exist. A group of four males makes sarcastic comments or rude noises as I walk past, so I just keep walking. A gray-haired tallish woman is alone and I sense that if I talk to her I'll have to sleep with her, so I just keep walking. [Limberluck is waking up due to revival of meditation practice.]
[Meditate, green room.]
[Summer vacation starts in one hour, so I expect things to pick up as I will not have to wake up at 5:30 a.m. anymore. Going into the season my routine is something like this: open eyes meditation starting at a large green cloth that covers my whole field of vision--7 a.m. closed eye meditation at 7 p.m. on terrace outside. Daily Awakening session but should move this to T.'s bed downstairs if it's not as hot as my small dream bed upstairs. Breathwalking at dark. Reality checks only when I feel odd or dreamy. Working on my books after morning chores. To bed at 8:00 p.m. SSILD if sleepy, WILD if not. Dream journal every 90 minutes during the night. I think this is a foolproof method. It will work. PS: Transcribe dream journal daily.]
[Lying down for Awakenings.]
[Was asleep with awareness of T. when he called from downstairs, home from school. Before that, 3-4 Awakenings with varying success at waking smoothly instead of being jolted awake by snoring resulting in quickly melting the paralysis with several breaths or swallowing. This is what I'm fighting--the panicking is about melting the state I'm wanting to be in.]
[To bed. Will wake up every 90 minutes and write in this journal. Looking forward to it. HELLO LUCIDITY. the Magical Mindset is not a formula you repeat, it's an ongoing act of creation which you invent newly every day in response to that day.]
[End of sleep cycle 1.]
[In waking reality J & T are looking at FB together and talking quietly.]
T. is using my tools making things. He's trying to saw a pitiful little WHITE-PAINTED piece of wood through a knot so I tell him to saw it in a different place where it won't be so hard. I ask him if he looked through both plastic bags of scraps for a better piece of wood. I see he has leaned my wooden popsicle stick house down [but I don't notice that it is now 6 ft long x 4 ft high instead of a foot-and-a-half long.] At first I think he broke it, but maybe not. I see the reason it's leaning down is that he moved whatever was propping it up on one end. Then I see a picture he's drawing of a group of women including a big round mamasita in a traditional Mexican dress.
[Back to bed, apple juice, choline, B6.]
[Got out of bed since they turned on their stereo next door at the packing house. Will transcribe from dream journal, still one month behind.]
2017-03-22 12:50 am
[Back to bed, cheese, prunes, apple juice.]
DR has a project for me including opening up a three-part wooden box (each part about five feet long x 2 feet wide x 8 inches high) and sealing all the joints, but he has to get on the phone and find out how much we're supposed to do because this is some real high tech stuff and the pay is on the high side. It turns out that I'm supposed to just paint it BLACK inside and let the paint seep and soak into the joints to seal them.
Mark and I are to deliver the goods by NIGHT FLIGHT so we're at the small airport and I'm discombobulated, feeling ill-prepared, while he doesn't want me along at all and he shows it by getting his boarding pass first so I throw a bit of a tantrum that he didn't wait for me as if he didn't want to sit with me. In the ensuing argument Kay gets involved and for her trouble I punch her in the jaw and then I head outside into the snow through a short Tunnel, stomping crunchy snow under my feet as I call out my resentment over my shoulder, something about his doing what he could to decrease the chances that he might have to sit with me. They all seem so mature compared to me, but if that's maturity, I want no part of it.
Some people [my dream bodies] start trying to cheer me up by throwing snowballs at me and I half-heartedly try to make one, but I am torn apart by self-pity and my snowball is just falling apart like me.
Back inside, a helpful young woman [Cwahacoy] confirms that a boarding pass is of no real importance and I'm bumbling through all my pockets to see if I have one already and littering the top of a sloped table (like a drafting table or very large lectern) with various scraps of paper coming out of my pockets. Someone tries to throw one away and I stop him, then feel silly and joke around that each scrap is at some certain exact level of being discardable, and that particular scrap is still 2 or 3 levels shy of being discardable. I can almost see the people who are helping me, but definitely sense their presence. [Due to an authentic experience of humor we are merging. The dream improves from here, but the plot never resolves on any thread for very long, it's a long dream and most of it, especially in the first part, is obviously an emotional taking-out of the trash dream. There was a lot of trash to take out as I am undergoing adjustment pains now that summer vacation schedule is starting.]
A complex story emerges and replays at least twice. It involves a nice big wooden bed that was very expensively replaced with a much smaller bed, and I WONDER why as the small bed seems unremarkable. This goes into a deep deep BLUE fog melodrama that plays out in a dark room of BLUE light while the man, woman, and myself sit there on a bed or floor while simultaneously playing roles in the story of tortured love and psychotic frenzy on the part of the man or another man [played by comedian Will Ferrell and the whole thing reminds me of the snowy xmas movie Elf but on too many hallucinogens--choline?--in the real movie WF played Buddy (that's my name, what T. and most people call me) and in the movie his romantic interest is J. (my wife's name).] The woman IDs as Elizabeth R. but a calmer version. When we're replaying the part where "Buddy" is about to start smashing up all her stuff again, at first I watch as he bumblingly tries to smash a lamp but it refuses to be appropriately smashable, so he is forced to knock pieces of it off one at a time with dull thuds, but when he goes for the big BLUE AND WHITE china bowl, I realize I don't want to see this again so I grab him from behind and restrain him by holding him around the chest with his arms thus pinned at his sides. He's wearing a pure WHITE shirt with very long sleeves as if he'd escaped from a mental institution or from a straight jacket [the Nowhere/sleep paralysis].
Now that they're gone and I'm left alone in the dark BLUE glowing room, I WONDER how to replay the thing, but I've never operated the machine. I find the button to open the front of the DVD/VCResque machinoid so the whole front and bottom drops down and I peer deep inside to see a recess with a springed trap door thing at the rear left of the otherwise EMPTY BLACK CAVITY. I insert the odd-shaped playback device which contains the file and it's hard to reach into the back of the cavity through the narrow gap of the opening, but it slips into place with the heavy chrome wire in front and I push it down into its hole and I start watching.
The ensuing file as it plays takes place in my consciousness as a dream or I experience replaying what I've just been through with those people, but I don't want to replay all that confusing melodramatic babble, so I find myself shooting through the deep BLUE winter night down a wide, smooth, very long slope while simultaneously watching this happen, mostly watching, as the point of Attention reaches a peak and/or trough and bursts into a magnificent shimmering white pattern as unique as a snowflake that instantly fills the whole sky. I am absolutely thrilled and amazed with this [and only 99% lucid].
[I'm just lucid enough to know] I have to devise a scene or end this amazing, long-winded and confusing experience so I devise snow sledding, but it's a little discouraging [and I become aware of being in my bed vibrating. I'm not wearing my mask, but that does not explain the bright spot of light over on the left since the room is dark and my eyes are closed. I don't merge with it quickly enough because I'm thinking about it instead of doing it, so I'm afraid to try an OBE exit in case it should fail, and the light blinks out. I get it back for a second, but lose it quickly and open my eyes just to ascertain it's totally dark in that direction, then I quickly close my eyes and go into a Projection Room experience of epic dynamism and proportion as I watch detailed lights rearrange themseves into near pictures of glowing green and purple, indescribable, and then the shadow people (which look like paper 2D cutouts) appear. I've never seen such active, hyperactive shadow people before. These are nightime snow players, 2D shadows of people spinning and reeling and tumbling and cavorting all over the snowy banks of a big park at night, like Central Park in the movie mentioned above. It continues as far as I want to pan around in the snowy parklike setting. Then the shadow people take on 3D aspect but only as beads of mercury-like shiny blobby lines around their edges. Finally I decide I want to get up to write this down, so I stop generating images, but the ability to do so doesn't fade out completely till I'm sitting at my table and turn on my light.]
[The return of choline's effectiveness after nothing for so long? Nah--I won't give any supplement credit for this, I worked for it.]
[Back to bed, apple juice.]
[No dreams recalled.]
[Meditate in green room.]
[Transcribing today's dream to computer, to be done daily before turning on the internet, even though still way behind on transcribing the past month's dreams.]
[Remember back in CHS when I was in the Vibes 24/7, I was never hungry, ate very little, never ate sugar. Now I "have to" eat 5-6x per day, because of "hypoglycemia" and can't stay awake, get headaches, tired too easy, can't get vibey if I did eat and practically pass out if not (when breathing extra). So I have decided to go to one or two meals a day and will start with removing sugar immediately and will go back to brown rice but will cook it myself and give up bread since the bread all has added sugar. This is called intermittent fasting, and it will double my lucidity and energy level, plus I will reduce choline to every 3rd day instead of every other day.]
2017-03-23 12:10 am
[End of 2nd sleep cycle. Brownout.]
Without thinking very hard about it, I'd taken the offer of a job as the PE teacher at the High School and I can see I was overestimating my abilities. Even though no one came to school, so I had no one to teach, I got so tired from the full day schedule that I made the authorities wait when they arrived to find out what was going on. When they finally tapped on the door, I let them wait a little, didn't want them to know how nervous or ill-prepared I felt. They came in and my immediate supervisor [SC] walked with me in the hall [the Tunnel] while others [my dream bodies SC] walked nearby and he was admiring my mini-bathrobe saying he'd have to get one like it. Tarzan colors [like the swimming trunks I wore when playing Lost Wave Music at CHS. The symbolism on this dream is transparent. Basically preparing to return to the higher stress of younger times when I wasn't waiting to die and actually cared what state my energy level was at, etc.]
[Back to bed.]
There's a layer of tri-level Tunnel under Manggahan created by rain, erosion, and sexual perversion.
[Back to bed. WILD.]
[Woke with headache.]
Joybroth had announced his new roommate proudly because she was black, but then she turned out to be some sort of psychopath or criminal. I'm out to town with my companions [dream bodies, SC] in Kansas when she approached me asking me where a good BANK is, but while I'm trying to answer her question, she walks away from me into the grocery store as if I'm expected to follow her where she wants me to go, as I remark to BK [SC]. Then I'm getting all the flower arrangements for a festival or event, some kid and the flowers in the part I'm in charge of.
2017-03-24 12:20 am
[Not much proper sleep yet due to various distractions. No dreams recalled.]
[Dream ended with me] throwing the dream plot off a very tall cliff and I [woke when it hit bottom.]
[Back to bed.]
[Woken up by dogs, no dreams recalled.]
[To bed. B6, Choline.]
[Went to sleep finally. Interruptions.]
[Remember being busy, but can't remember dreams.]
2017-03-25 1:10 am
[Some time ago I woke up from a strange dream I didn't want to write down and decided to lie still and wait for a new dream to form. So I got this:]
While J. is in the other room, the Disney TV morphs into Disney porn and I jump up to turn off the sound, then I go up to the user profiles to program in this odd new capability, but first I have to decide whether to be Goofy, Micky Mouse, Chip 'n Dale, Yogi Bear, or Boo Boo. I choose one and start clicking through options that have to be set like "really do x" or "just act like doing x" or "ask again later;" all obnoxious stuff and I make sure the hole in the floor is covered with a dark GREEN piece of burlap so she can't watch me while she takes a shower in the cellar.
[Woke up and moved little, thought to try another DEILD, but better to pee and record dream, but will now go back to bed and try to WILD.]
[Woke earlier from a dream I didn't care to record, and stayed in bed for another stab at it.]
In a grocery store with RH we're in the parking lot of someplace where there's a TV counting the seconds to announce the winner of the billion dollar lotto, 5-4-3-2-1 and the winner of the billion dollars is... Donald J. Trump! And the nation is again aghast.
We go in to the store and there's Mr. Murray, so I stride up to him, grab his hand, he's surprised to see me after all these years, and I say, "Happy birthday to all republicans everywhere!" and his arm freezes and he senses I'm being sarcastic about his president, so I try to change the subject by saying it really is my birthday April 18 and I'm 61 years old. He thaws out and wants to know if we want to maybe go to Wal-Mart with him. I say OK, but as we follow him around the mall parking lot in the dusk, I hope he doesn't want to have a perv orgy as he was talking in a roundabout way of "doing something" later.
I'm with RH driving out of the parking lot and he's in the car behind me. I seem to be PARALYZED in thought as I picture the route and I'm aware of my TIRES as if they were stuck to the pavement BY GRAVITY or some such force. RH and I converse telepathically part of the time between our two cars. Part of the time I worried he might want to have sex with me.
We're in RH's basement apartment which is dark and there's a pile of dirty blankets on the ground including a light GREEN one. He's showing me a two-tone hose connector that's illegal in some way and he mentions that they'll never catch him because he knows a guy who gave him fake finger prints. I say I'd like to meet his friend and he jokes that he's "afraid he might like you."
RH gathers an armful of dirty blankets to take to the laundry and I wonder if we're going to keep hanging out together.
I'm with Karen late at night at a Sbarro's Italian fast food place and she got a huge slice of lasagna and is paying for it. I see it in detail and I can almost taste it. I say it looks good and I WONDER if she things I am hinting around about wanting some. I figure that would be OK but it doesn't happen, so I decide to order baked ziti macaroni and cheese since it's also very cheesy, but a lot cheaper.
[Back to bed. WILD. Somewhat sleepy.]
"Don't You Remember Me?"
In a dark subterranean bakery/cafe.
There's an episode involving a blonde young woman that ends with she and her companions being wiped out. She's wearing dark/bright BLUE. I decide I'll get over the loss. I leave...
There's an episode involving J. sitting across a table from me accusing me of things in a matter-of-fact way, then standing up and she's totally naked from the waist down. I walk away from her.
Walking through a room where anonymous-looking women are lined up along the walls on my LEFT [I'll call these "the Wallflowers"--Cwahacoy is sometimes chosen from among lineups and comes to life when I choose her]. One woman signals me with a motion of her eyebrows, a look of recognition and I gesture with my eyebrows in return, but keep walking. Then she says, "Don't you remember me?" and then she's the only woman in the room and we talk for a long time.
Cwahacoy has a name which she tells me, black hair, white skin and fine features. She talks about how she could not do a radio show in the US like the one she does as an expatriate living in the Philippines and I agree. I go on about how Americans are so judgmental, I could never talk and chatter away in the US like I can in the Philippines. She's the blonde girl's sister.
I'm still TRYING HARD TO REMEMBER her and I do have a memory, which I associate with this woman, of a line of red lights on a ceiling in a place like this, which is a darkish, dingy bakery full of hazy unformed thoughts of people being present.
We go up to the counter and she disappears through a door into the dark kitchen so I have this time to TRY TO REMEMBER. I ask the old woman behind the counter if they have a row of red lights on the ceiling [trying to DO A REALITY CHECK, which is good] and I recall them being right here so I look up to see for myself as she's giving me a vacant look and sure enough, there's a dingy row of small lights with opaque plastic covers on the ceiling right above me with light fixtures about six inches apart, so I point to them and ask her to turn them on so I can see if they are red. While she goes into the kitchen to find the light switch, I can sense the unseen people in the line to my right (right under the line of lights) fidgeting as I have barged into the front of the line and they're waiting.
As I stare at the drab, old dingy ceiling, a row of blue lights comes on, but just barely. The old woman sees them and mutters something about what a senile old woman she is, and goes back in the kitchen and flicks more switches and this time some dull old red lights come on. [Dogs wake me up.]
[Choline after 2 days of abstinence from it does work, but the two days of abstinence sucked for dreams and I can feel my brain chemistry altered and messed with. What's altered is my momentum and enthusiasm. I don't have any. Choline takes away my motivation to do the right things and I don't have the desire because I think or some part of me thinks I no longer have to generate my own reasons to unworld any more. I'm putting choline on the shelf, use it maybe once a month till it's gone. Will try muggons some more, but it's probably the same story. Will try it again soon though.]
[To bed. Tired from shopping in town.]
[Woken by others coming to bed. No dreams recalled.]
[Back to bed.]
2017-03-26 12:15 am
[Woken by sick child.]
I've met a woman who likes me, I can't believe my luck. I'm going to get her to visit me at my house for four days, my-house-or-yours kind of thing. I've collected four refund checks of $2 each so I should cash them, but they're so new, they might not be good yet. I should just deposit them. Of course, I'm already North of Stockton on foot, guess I should've brought my bike. I bet she has a bike too. The Asher Ct. place was 34 miles, it says so on the check. It will be dark soon. The little canal next to the road starts here.
[Back to bed.]
Protesting the way prisoners aboard this ship are made to pee where others can watch, holding the curtain a certain way...
[Wake up, sick kid, many disturbances.]
2017-03-27 9:00 am
"I've been Hacking up My Friends"--a 12-hour Trek to the Urumara
[Yesterday I had quite a horrible day as I had to interrupt all my plans including budgetary ones to go to town with wife and child to humor my wife's overreaction to T.'s common cold, which he got from me. I'm over mine, but he's having minor fever and I spent the day arguing with wife, nurses, doctors and sick kid, in regards to whether the common cold is a national emergency that should alter the course of anyone's life other than to cue the need to eat one's vegetables and not stuff junk food into one's face every time one feels hungry. The last straw was when I did my breathwalking; of course I'm still hacking up phlegmballs when I try to do the Buzz Breath, so could not reach the desired depths of breathing because of constantly coughing stuff up. Due to my own bad hi-carb diet--5 to 6 meals per day of mostly grains and fruits--which I changed radically three or four days ago.]
[At bedtime around 8:30 p.m. I detected in myself a possibly usable kernel of "I will be able to gralthify a decent WILD session out of this bad mood," and it kinda worked that way in a sense, but it took 12 hours lying in bed, mostly deep asleep as I was exhausted. I did continue to chain back to that original resolve however, and it did work. During the night, I felt a kind of confidence building that I did not have to fake. Upon awakening to pee, I would keep my eyes closed a lot and move real slow and get my little drink of water, which is all the way across the house (gotta change that), and get back in bed placidly, refusing to write any dreams, because in my opinion I have to take advantage of what I learned while transcribing an unprecedentedly frequent series of lucid dreams that stopped cold a month ago. By so doing, I learned that DEILD is MY technique. Chaining dreams. Waking in REM and staying in it, then going straight back into another dream. I have to go through and analyze that spurt of lucids more carefully, but DEILD will prove to be the common thread, I'm sure.]
[And I'm sure that my recently radically altered eating style has flipped a new switch in the development of my air body, because this morning after a 1- to 2-hour-long induction in which I sublimated anger, depression, and numerous intense potentials for distraction, I went into the Urumara with full awareness for the first time. By this I mean I experienced with full awareness the knowledge that I was about to Unworld, and the accompanying fear that I would be leaving behind my body's ability to breathe air. Thus faced this fear consciously instead of the usual routine of waking up gasping or swallowing in a panic.]
[I had one dream I remember and it was maybe 6 a.m. but that's a very wild guess as I had the attitude that nothing including my journaling practice was going to distract my resolve to maintain continuous awareness of the way to the Unworld. In other words I had only one goal, and that was DEILD. Normally I dilute my resolve by having competing goals, and journaling in the middle of a REM Vibe is a mistake, I should be DEILDing at that time, not turning on lights and stuff. Although some dreams just beg to be written down as soon as possible.]
[Right now I'm drinking a big cup of fresh turmeric tea after chewing on some star anise. I don't eat breakfast from the carbohydrate swill trough anymore and yesterday I did an 18 hour fast. I'm working my way out of a deluded belief in eating 5-6 small meals per day that was pushing me into diabetes, as clued by my inability to breathe hard without nearly passing out, unless I had stuffed myself with "food" within a half hour or so before going out breathwalking on the dirt road in front of my house.]
[The dream I had this morning. After much activity which I forgot, ]
I end up going DOWN INTO A BASEMENT [into the Tunnel] where I see that a stocky young man with a very full head of brown hair, longish but not to his shoulders, is working in a golden glow that sort of seems to emanate from himself, repairing a big ten-inch-diameter super-coarse grinding wheel. I'm glad this is getting done and I figure I'll be the one who has to pay for his work, but who cares? I am transported [so quickly I don't remember the trip through the Urumara] to the front yard. Which is neatly mowed, so I go next door to the 18" tall grass of the next door neighbors' front lawn and enjoy the feeling of "who cares" even more. I do some flying and levitating tricks powered by the devil-may-care attitude [and can't remember any details about this.]
Then I'm going back into the basement where the subtly- but oddly-glowing young man has succeeded in wiring the maximally coarse grinding wheel together with great crudeness and is now using it to grind some rivet heads in his face. I go up to investigate and he moves the tool SO I CAN GET A CLOSE LOOK at his shiny, golden-glowing skin. Two openings in his face [my two missing teeth, the sudden loss of which has taught me so much about Chaining a Magical Mindset], each an inch long, have been neatly riveted shut with tiny flesh-colored rivets and he's been using the edge of the impossible grinder to smooth the rivet heads. In spite of the IMPOSSIBILITY of the task, the ultra-calm man [Whirly, my body of air] has done an impeccable job, and a face that should look gross and gashed looks quite acceptable with the tiny rows of rivet heads being smooth and almost invisible. I ask him where he "gets all the human skin" [for his needed grafts] and he replies jokingly, "I've been hacking up my friends."
[I wake up and pee, refuse to waste the opportunity to Chain dreams by not writing the dream down or going over the details much, and instead I immediately lie down with mask on.]
[For the next three hours I ignored a steady stream of what could have been intensely problematic distractions as I hovered close to sleep, and each time I was woken up, I refused to be taken out of the state of resolve I was in. This constituted sublimation of the potential mood explosions and as a result, the confidence in my ability to unworld just quietly grew.]
[My wife let the dogs in and that usually ends my sleep since I have to get up to feed them or they will destroy the mosquito net that stands between them and me. I moved my leg too fast, trying to keep the most enthusiastic of the two animals off the bed, and got a cramp in my calf. While I waited for this to go away, I kept my eyes closed and reaffirmed my resolve to still get unworlded anyway. As soon as I could walk without restarting the cramp, I fed the dogs smoothly and went back to bed. Then my wife was outside in the garden with a one-year-old girl she loves to tease, and my wife's a noisy person. I resolved to not be distracted by any emotional reaction and went back to sleep, with my wife's voice acting as a ramp timer, keeping me from getting too deep. Then T. woke up (we all sleep in the same bed) and started going "Pssst!" through the window by the bed, also teasing the baby downstairs in the garden. Finally he went outside, unaware that he had disturbed my sleep. Since my feathers were obstinately unruffled, I went right back to sleep.]
[It helps that I've learned the REM breath: one second inhale followed immediately by one second exhale, ragged breathing, accompanied by slow random motions of the eyes. This always puts me to sleep. I kept reminding myself that the three key ingredients of a direct unworlding are Metsuke, Blaffinveigle, and Vac-U-Move. At some point I knew it was 7:15 a.m.--time to meditate--and put myself to sleep meditating in bed. And finally it happened.]
I'm wandering around [in the Tunnel a.k.a. non-REM dreams] having random experiences which I forget as soon as I have them, then I'm in the same yard as the previous dream when I get this sense of FAMILIARITY, that sense of having just done something and now doing it over with a variation, and as I round the corner of the house, I NOTICE to my right a smallish two-tone BROWN dog [this is Smudgely the Fogjogger--as was the machinist from earlier with all his fogjoggings] and I THINK, that's ODD, I recall "my" dog lying on that piece of cardboard right there, but this is not my dog. Oh well, let him be... and I am lucid! [Energy for lucidity derived from the devil-may-care refusal to give-a-shit about what is not my problem, i.e. the detachment half of Metsuke.]
[This is Lucidity Lite, I am quite aware of lying in my bed, but I remain motionless and a strange feeling like a yawn starts in my face where yawns start, then connects to something in my lower back, and very quickly builds to a delicious and unmistakable full-on case of the Vibes as it travels in a wave up my spine and out the top of my head. [This is not the warm/fuzzy Vibes I wake up in after a REM dream, this is the real thing, and the first time ever I have gotten the Vibes consciously from a state where I thought I was lying in my bed. I woke up in the Vibes once, but this was more precious because] I basically entered the Urumara consciously as I've been hoping to do. These Vibes are totally unmistakable.
[I remember to tell myself to remain calm, but I forget that I'm probably in sleep paralysis and make the mistake of not knowing what to do next. For example I should have waited passively for another wave of Vibes just like the first, or I could have imagined a vortex and let it suck me out through the feet, but instead I waffled about what I should do. Maybe I could have "yawned" again? Instead I got in a hurry, losing the confidence due to feeling truly afraid of leaving behind my body's ability to breathe if I were to "leave my body," and telling myself to not worry about it, I took a small breath to prove I could, which might have ended the state.]
[I tried to "just get up" but when I did, it felt like I was getting up physically, so I aborted that after the initial feeling of motion. I should have got all the way up, as it could have been a real unworlding and if not, well, by then it wasn't going to happen anyway. I should have lay still and tried to see through my closed mask, which is a reality check that can be done without moving, in order to gauge the progress of the unworlding. I should have imagined a dream scene or waited for one to form or started Noticing or forced myself back to sleep with SSILD. But after a twelve-hour induction, of course I was so excited and happy and fulfilled that I just got up to write everything down after doing the wrong kind of reality check--the kind where you have to move body parts--and it took an hour-and-a-half to write it all down.]
[It's 10:45 a.m. and I will whack weeds in the garden till lunchtime, which will constitute an 18-hour fast. I'm a little "hungry" but a better description might be "made of air". We make the mistake of interpreting all sorts of inner sensations as hunger, and this causes weakness because to ignore the voice that says, "If in doubt stuff carbs into face," builds subtle strengths that don't exist if they aren't encouraged by making the effort.]
[I wanted to mention in closing that the dream character's joke, "I've been hacking up my friends," was a multi-layered dream pun. It refers to the fact that when I try to do the Buzz Breath and am distrubed by phlegmballs due to my recent cold, this is a good thing. Somehow, as I am wont to say near the end of a dry spell, it's "cobbling my practice back together" to keep breathing anyway, over and over, in spite of the resistance. It also refers to the fact that Whirly--my body of air--is cobbled together with the best parts of seven dream bodies.]
[To bed. CHAINING is my technique. Always wake in REM, always remain still, always reformulate a new dream, always do the plan of action when lucid. The plan of action is: go down on knees and look in a mirror and kiss the girl in the mirror if it's Cwahacoy. This is lucidity night.]
2017-03-28 8:30 am
[Now recording last night's dream. Due to the new devotion exclusively to Chaining, I will be doing it this way maybe for a long time. I'll put the dreams in approximate order when possible, but no times will generally be known, what's important is dream recall and Chaining, not the most anal dream journal since the dawn of time.]
With Dave "d'Boy," walking with him to a neighborhood where he needs to go, but he's hostile and afraid because of the "Mexicans" that live there [the Urumara]. I tell him that there could be no harm in just being friendly. We're walking in a VERY FAMILIAR park divided by a WINDBREAK and water break of trees and creek [the Urumara.]
Visiting Kris as per old days hanging out for the joint [altered state] which he finally announces that he will produce, and as soon as he does, the room is full of people who are closer to him than I, his MUSICIAN friends, including one who threatens to grab the joint when it's my turn, but he ends up giving it to me.
Charmello [my dog who is dead or nearly dead] shows up and comes into the house, looking even nearer death than he is in real life, his back arched, and he moves around by hopping like a deer. Kris has several dogs and one is bitten by Charmello. Out of politeness, Kris tries to pooh-pooh the incident, saying it's just a little scratch, but I'm holding the little YELLOW AND PURPLE dog to show him it's a BIG DEAL [the Vibes according to Frank Kepple are an interaction between the yellow and purple chakras]. I show him that there is a real puncture wound on the little dog's upper chest because blood is pooling up there fast. [Didn't know yet that Charmello had died during the night, though it was pretty obvious he was going to.]
I'm setting out on a long walk without warm enough clothes and telling myself I'm setting myself up for a lot of misery by being unprepared for where I'm going [the Tunnel].
Myself and a companion [SC] are offered a ride [the Tunnel] by someone I should know, so as we get into his [invisible] truck, I ask "Is your name SCOTT?" [which is actually my name] and he says, "No, my name is Gary." [He is the same person I dreamed about last night, the same thick brown hair and wearing a WHITE T-shirt: Whirly.]
[The night's chaining program was successful in that I maintained a placid state of mind in spite of numerous gettings up to pee, an emergency poop (first time in three days), letting the dogs in and feeding them, moving to the dream bed, having T. talk to me from the main bed when he woke up, etc. All was welcomed as an opportunity to Sublimate Distraction and the result is a new terminology "The Nevermind" which will get a new chapter. I used SSILD technology combined with Vac-U-Move to experience many mini-unworldings of the non-lucid variety (Awakenings) for example:]
[AWK] Some people [my dream bodies] grow tired of trying to get the attention of somebody who's locked in his room [me] to get him to accept some sort of gift, so they move en masse to the other end of the house to try again [which woke me up. Will write a chapter now about the unmindset "Nevermind".]
[To bed. Will practice WILD at bedtime and will chain dreams all night using Nevermind to enforce Blaffinveigle upon each awakening.]
2017-03-29 3:15 pm
[Woke up feeling guilty for not having written my dreams down, there were several, and yet I purposely didn't write them down because I want to do Chaining instead of jumping out of bed and clinging to every little dream experience. Take Jurgen Ziewe for example, he does no techniques except meditation, and he unworlds all the time. He writes down only lucid unworldings, nothing else. So I am trying to develop a Magical Mindset vs. a greedy grabby mindset, giving preference to "I will unworld when I should" vs. "I must unworld now."]
[Nevertheless I felt grouchy and guilty and wanted to stay in bed 12 hours again, but didn't think it was either possible or a good idea. The rebound effect of oversleep is lethargy 24/7. So I stayed in bed through my 7:00 a.m. meditation and did the meditation in bed, and while doing this I soared into the Magical Mindset, same as I had yesterday, and went to town in a great mood, although moodless would be a better way to put it. All Day Awareness is effortless and fun in this mindful/mindless mindset. Maintaining this as much as possible while carrying out some normal activities like typing old dream journals and watching utubes. Still very much after the methodless method of unworlding and hopefully this new direction doesn't stifle everything. I did remember several dreams, but I did not write any of it down. I was really disappointed and in my depression, I convinced myself that I had not Chained dreams nor tried very hard to do so.]
[Actually I have nothing to complain about since I AM Chaining dreams, just not lucidly. There is a strong sense of being sort of continuously active and CHAINING is a good description for this in spite of no lucidity.]
[CHAINING IS LUCIDITY. I will wake up during every non-lucid dream and/or every REM/sleep cycle and Chain into another dream, a lucid one. My Intent Agenda is to get on my knees and find a mirror on the floor. Kiss the girl in the mirror, if any, and crawl out of the room to the Urumara.]
2017-03-30 9:15 am
[Well I must be doing something right because after about 10.5 hours of sleep I had a pair of chained lucid unworldings, YIPPEE! I am wearing my lucidity hat as I type this. Again I did not write in my dream journal, but for a change, the dreams I had were interesting and worth remembering. So I must be recovering from the choline self-sabotage and getting back to caring enough to take an interest in dreaming while I'm doing it.]
[The following non-lucid dreams took place last night, at unknown times, in unknown order. They obviously are chaining common themes from dream to dream, but it's hours later and I'm just doing the best I can to get them into a logical order. I do recall waking up NOT needing to pee and Chaining right back to sleep, over and over, and THAT is the key to getting lucid. I have been practicing not peeing constantly all day, which helps enormously, since building resolve in the middle of the night--after using the pee bucket to superfluously punctuate my daytime activities--is impossible and bad for the mattress.]
I'm in a sunny place like a small public LIBRARY but [like the dream bed where I sleep or will be sleeping when I move there] the window next to me is not covered by any kind of glass, it's just a BIG LONG OPENING [the Urumara]. Two hairy CARPENTERS [Nitpicker and Potwatcher... watch out! They always show up when it's lucid time! And this is the same dude, same thick head of longish hair, that I dreamed about twice recently] are right outside the window trying to do something difficult. One of theM grabs a wall out beyond themselves and the house, leans on it, and the whole wall starts leaning away from the house. I get a lurch in the pit of my stomach [the Vertigo].
A kitten appears on the sill of the window and I pick it up, but I become concerned that it might have lice since the kitten is all over me and it's skinny and unhealthy-looking. Then there are two more of them, and feeling overwhelmed [I wake up, check that I don't need to pee, and SSILD back to sleep quickly].
Damn kitten has glommed onto my ankle.
[Another awakening? No way to keep track without waking up completely to write everything down, and that is no longer what I do... I assume that some or all of the sudden scene changes below came with short awakenings and I Chained back in. And partially because of my new high fat, low carb diet, I have no interest in getting up to pee.]
Wow, look at that kitten in the other room on the floor. What is that, it has no hair? Oh, I see, it's strapped into a shiny plastic kitty jacket, looks like a roller skate with hairy feet instead of wheels and a head instead of an ankle poking out the top, sort of pinkish-silvery-gold with sparkling glittery flecks of light all over it... [the Nowhere].
Breeze and I are out in the carport [the Tunnel] and it is literally raining CATS and dogs, I mean one solid sheet of water is literally pouring out of the sky, and the carport is so full of water that it's like 7 feet deep and we're body surfing on it, back and forth along the length of the carport, YIPPEE this is fun!
Breeze remembers the CARPENTER UPSTAIRS in the dark bedroom and runs upstairs and through his bedroom door [the Urumara] to talk with him. I follow.
Of course Breeze is a gardener and of course I'm hosing my garden down, spraying it down good. But my big garden is REDUCED IN SIZE to a ten-foot square built up from the ground with terraces and trellises [which I fail to notice].
And I'm walking along the bumpy, RAIN-ERODED dirt road [out front of the house where I do my nightly breathwalking--the Tunnel] and here comes Jayruse driving my old BLUE Toyota [which my parents bought for themselves on my 18th birthday, and which was collided with that night at midnight by a girl running to get out of the POURING RAIN] full of kids. I think the idea of Jayruse driving anything is kinda weird [he's too timid to drive well] and when I look again, the car is now only 30 inches long and a foot high. Oops, now it's so small it's stuck in a muddy pothole in the road. Hey, what're you doing down in that hole???
And I'm standing next to the road on the left of it, in a muddy square hole about 30 inches wide and waist deep, naked from the waist down, PEEING backward between my own legs. I WONDER if anyone can see me and looking around a bit, I see that the ROAD is blocking the bottom half of me from view so all is well. Yeah, but, what if I'm peeing in bed [almost lucid! I wake up to check. No, I don't even feel like I want to pee; back to sleep.]
Now this is quite interesting. That square hole next to the road where I was standing before and peeing is now a floodgate, and a wee channel of water where between-my-legs was a minute ago [my spine?] is now a little ditch of water channeled from a huge dam upstream somewhere [the Urumara and the Tunnel] that has somehow flooded out our whole area magnificently, flowing both to the LEFT where our little stream usually flows, as well as flowing over our makeshift dam of stacked rocks which goes across our wide, grassy gully bottom, and a huge flow of water is going straight over the dam to the RIGHT. And look at my poor LITTLE GARDEN to the left of the dam, I wonder if MUGWORT grows well under water? Probably does. It would be INTERESTING TO FIND OUT.
[By now I had moved to my dream bed and was wearing my mask. Probably did this when I went downstairs PLACIDLY, let the dogs in placidly, took them upstairs to the terrace and fed them placidly, and forced myself back to sleep. No dreams or times were recorded during the night. I no longer think looking at a clock during the night is more important than Chaining. I no longer think anything is more important than Chaining.]
[Instead of getting out of bed after 10.5 hours of sleep at my prescribed meditation time, I forced myself to sleep one more time with SSILD in hopes of having a lucid unworlding, and it worked. My last thought as I went to sleep was unfortunately, "Maybe I should have just gotten up to do something physical." This led to my FIRST LUCID FALSE AWAKENING!]
So I'm wide awake, I might as well get up and start my day, maybe I'll have a lucid dream tomorrow night instead.
I get out of bed in my big loft bedroom and I'm walking along a narrow strip of floor that exists between my bed, which is a big piece of foam on the floor to my left, and a big square hole in the floor ahead of me and to my right. There are no stairs visible in the hole, just white light, which I barely notice. I'm not afraid of falling in the hole, which I would be if I was awake.
Hey, I WONDER IF I'M DREAMING? It certainly doesn't seem like I am, but I might as well check, it can't hurt. But certainly I am not dreaming.
I reflexively lift both feet into the air as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Well that feels perfectly normal, what's so unusual about that? And yet... it seems like I'm staying up in the air a little too long, doesn't it? Hey, wait a minute... WAIT A MINUTE! I'm still hovering in the air...
I'm DREAMING! I'm DREAMING! Now calm down...
I AM dreaming, I AM dreaming! Now remember your plan of action...
I sink slowly to the ground and land on my hands and knees on the foam, which now covers also the area where I'd been walking. The foam is covered by an old fuzzy TWO-TONE BROWN AND BEIGE blanket with an Indian pattern, which I used for years, many years ago. As per my plan, I kiss the ground, which is my nice clean blanket [instead of the BEIGE carpet I'd planned, and wake up/become aware of having kissed my foam mattress in my real bed, because the smacking sound I made with my real lips is what woke me up. Fortunately I kept my eyes closed, my mind empty, remained motionless, and Chained straight back into the same exact position in the same exact dream, but unfortunately] I kissed the blanket again [and this time the smacking woke me up for good. I felt I was too excited to force myself back to sleep, so got up and started my day.]
[I have now fulfilled a long-held Intent Agenda, to get on my knees upon attaining lucidity and kiss the floor, though I didn't get a chance to continue with the rest of my plan, which was to crawl out of the room to the Urumara, because the kiss was emulated by the physical mouth and the sound of it woke me up, twice. So I need a new way of stabilizing contact with the Unworld. The kiss was supposed to 1) merge me with my sixness dream body or gratitude/appreciation/Cwahacoy, and 2) catalyze the unworlded state. But I have to change this to an activity that is not likely to be repeated by the physical. Kissing myself awake due to the smacking sound made with my supposedly paralyzed lips? So much for sleep paralysis, or maybe I was not in REM at all, who knows, in which case I had a lucid non-REM dream. Sleep paralysis supposedly only happens in REM but we dream in the Tunnel too, not just beyond the Urumara. As for appreciation, I had plenty of that already because it was exciting to become lucid, and fortunately I did remember to tone it down a few notches. So I'll come up with a completely new Intent Agenda today, probably still grounding myself by getting on the floor, since that part worked well. It's good that I remembered not to fly after the initial hovering, but my next act should have been to jump through the big white hole, which was the Urumara and would have catalyzed the dream just fine and got me away from my bedroom into the remote mind, with the Uppers in charge, with access to the Unworld proper.]
[This bedroom is my Dream Loft. It's the spiffed-up attic of a big house, not much like the one I live in which has a full-height series of wall-less rooms and a normal, flat ceiling. When I say "loft," I mean the ceiling is the bottom of the roof, slopey-like. My first classic lucid-dream-type unworlding during this phase of my practice ended up with me flying up to this same loft bedroom from outside and entering it through the window. That house was in dream-Kansas, a nice three-bedroom old wood house. I had seen two women [Nitpicker & Potwatcher?] who I wanted to meet, but out of the blue I literally decided to have an unworlding experience instead, instantly became lucid, and the flight to the upper room was powered by laughter. So it's good to be Chaining dream environments, with the earlier instance of the Dream Loft going back to that date which was August 19 of last year. That is a message that it is, in fact--as shown by the laughter-powered flight up to the Dream Loft--a certain mood, the Magical Mindset, that allows lucidity to happen, when all the techniques in the world can't force it to happen. Also I should mention that in real life I always wanted a loft room, I thought having a sloping ceiling would be the neatest thing in the world, and just fantasizing about having a room like that as a kid used to put me in a special kind of mood. In spite of having had a nightmarishly unforgettable waking(?) experience in just such a room when I was five years old.]