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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1469
And for the past few days I've been working on the Lucid Dreaming.
When I remember, perhaps 20 or 30 times per day, I look about and ask myself if I'm awake or if I'm dreaming.
I know the answer, of course, but it's the exercise, and sometimes, depending on the conversation, it can be hard to tell. If I'm talking to the Nephew or G or Z or sometimes M or the Owner I find myself tapping my wrist, "Awake or Asleep?", just to be sure. An extra anchor.
Somehow I've *mostly(?) managed to banish restaurant dreams from my sleep, that's good, I hate restaurant dreams, there's no one in the world who hates their job more than I. A variety of dreams, most forgotten, I take the forgetting of them to mean they weren't of the caliber to be remembered, the forgetting is the natural selection, the evolution of dreams.
This is not necessarily true. The forgetting is merely the slow awakening, the ill-jotted down notes or mislaid pen, the lack of immediate (and apparent) sense to the dream, the uncomfortably personal nature of it.
But no - or few - restaurant dreams, that's good. Although the characters from the restaurant show up, and that isn't good, but it's a reminder of how narrow my world is there. The Lucidity will come, with practice, or variations in technique, it's good enough (as far as I can remember) to be somewhat rid of the restaurant those 8 hours a day I'm not there.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1355
I've parked in front of Hans's house, between two cars, the street is so narrow that he won't be able to leave but I'm thinking he's at work...
And I haven't even crossed the street when I find that he's had to open the doors to my car and crawl through the passenger and then drivers seat to get out of his house. He doesn't seem too annoyed and I apologize....
It's early evening, and the moon is surrounded by a couple of bamboo hoops, on fire, burning, strange optic phenomena of some sort, I go back home and grab a camera, return to take photos, the local playground is on fire, I'm snapping pictures, there's an eerie, unearthly beauty to it...
At home Hans has let himself into the house (old, European style house, old walls, memories), he's telling me that I can order my prints from him, have them mounted for $25.00 each, I tell him they're digital, but it doesn't matter...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1306
I'm shoving my way through a brightly lit, cluttered attic. There's a hole in the floor where the light fixture used to be, a couple of big bodied orb spiders have taken up residence there, black and gold, shiny gold, the black markings a silhouette of a recent adaptation - a horse and buggy, perfect outline of a horse and buggy that went by the house outside near the church.
Peculiar, this evolution, this too quick adaptation to an environment they haven't even seen....
I go to plug the hole with a little jadeite bowl, these spiders are rare, one of a kind, and the bowl falls through the hole to the floor below taking the spiders with them, they're crushed and now they're extinct....
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1315
It's David Hasselhoff, and he's doing a commercial for tourism in Provence dressed as a Gallic Knight.
"Did you know" he begins "That Provence is the only place in the world where it's acceptable to wear mittens to breakfast?".
Something to do with the high altitude and mountains....
"But" he continues "By lunchtime you can go about in short sleeves. Pity the people who live in Provence, for where better can they go for winter?"
Then he recites the same commercial again, only in French, and I'm torn between being impressed at his French and wondering how avaricious he must be to have to stoop to doing commercials for extra cash....then again, it's David Hasselhoff.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2136
Twilight and I'm on a ladder high above the jungle canopy, rope ladder with missing rungs, clambering down towards the trees...
I'm with a physicist, she's going to show me what she's built, this device that converts, atom by atom, lead into gold...
this ladder, precariously swinging so high above the earth, connected somewhere above to a branch, and a large silver ball bearing, hexagon of other bearings around it, she's explaining that the device fires electrons towards it at high speeds, completing them, transmuting them as it were...