Knife Kicking

We are in a field.
There is a village near by…
A crowd of around twenty men are gathered around me.
They are dressed in work trousers and white shirts.
The scene is rural.
They crowd speak a foreign tongue.
I think it is Eastern European?
The atmosphere is tense.
They are talking about me,
Whispering, avoiding eye contact.
They are confident.
I am a stranger…

A large, older man approaches me.
He has a thick, white moustache.
He holds out a small sword.
It is curved and thin, with an ornate silver handle.
He extends his arms offering me the sword.
From behind him a younger man approaches.
Somehow I know that he is my challenger…

The older man throws the sword into the air.
We see it spin as we scatter to avoid its razor sharp edge
As it spins to the ground.
The younger man approaches the blade,
He is barefooted, as am I.
I feel the long damp grass beneath my feet.
The young man carefully hooks his toes beneath the blade that lies upon the grass.
He expertly flings the blade into the air,
It spins in a silvery ark above us as the crowd moves again.
It lands twenty, or so yards away.
I know that it’s my turn.
It is my turn to kick the blade into the air…

I approach the blade,
All is quiet.
I carefully place my toes beneath the sword, confident of my success.
I kick it into the air.
It spins above us…

I am aware of a searing pain in my foot.
I fall to the ground.
The crowd cheers!

My foot is bleeding, badly.
I hold up my foot to inspect the damage.
I am cut just above my toes.
I can see right through the gash in my foot.
I am terrified.
I call out for help.
There is a flash of blue.
I awake.

The Room…

I’m dreaming again.
I am aware that I am dreaming.
I am lucid.
I’m in a dark room.
A dim light from somewhere in the room flashes on and off.
I am not alone.
In the darkness I can make out five or six other people, they are naked and huddle together.
‘What’s going on I ask?’ They do not answer. I look more closely.
They are asleep?
Asleep standing up?
The light continues to flicker.
‘Why are we here? What’s going on?’ I ask.
There is no answer from the huddle of sleepers. I can’t see their faces. Their heads hang loose onto their chests or shoulders. I hear them breathing.
‘Wake up!’ No answer. ‘Come on, wake up!’ The group continue to sleep.
I don’t like this room.
I begin to get, ‘spooked.’
I announce to the group that I’m leaving.
‘Come on lets fly?’ They sleep.
I float upwards and through the dark ceiling.
The darkness turns to a cobalt blue that begins to lighten.
I am in the sky again above my ocean and it’s crashing waves.
I know that I am about to wake.
I am aware of my sleeping body.
I wake.
I am glad that I am not still in the room with the sleepers.

Strange Events…

A friend stayed over at my place last night.
I showed him this blog site.
It prompted a discussion about dreams and lucid dreaming.
My friend confessed that he does not remember his dreams. Apparently he had not remembered a dream for over five years.
He told me about the last dream he remembered…

He dreamt that he was in his old school. He talked of passageways and staircases, of high balconies and looking over the edge of the highest step.

He described the dream in magnificent detail. He spoke in high esteem about his old headmaster and of the ghosts that haunted the old building at night.
I said that it was a shame that he did not remember his dreams.
The conversation went on until late.
We finished a bottle of wine and decided to call it a night.

I woke up well past twelve o’clock the next day. I made my way to the kitchen to make coffee.
As I poured my first cup I heard my friends alarm on his phone ringing loudly from the guest bedroom.
Before I knew it he was with me in the kitchen.
He was excited and wide eyed.
He was full of tales of dreams…

Dreams he remembered.

Dream Drawing?

I had been working on the drawing for about a week, at work during my dinner hour. The long, panoramic had started to take shape…
The image was split into 15 separate drawings. It showed the profile of a male figure bending down to pick up an injured bird. As the image worked from left to right the figure rose and released the bird. The bird then flew skywards towards the top right hand corner of the picture.

I remember feeling pleased with the image.

At five I finished work. I took the drawing home, with the intention of finishing it that night.
I placed it carefully on the backseat of my car. The long board that the drawing was tacked to filled the back of the car. I only just managed to shut the doors.
I sat briefly looking at the drawing through the rear view mirror of the car before I started for home. I remember feeling pleased with the overall composition, busy with line from bottom left to top right.

The day was bright. I thought of my recent Lucid Dream experiences. I thought of the Silverfish, (Silverfish post), I looked out along the long road before me and glanced back at the drawing behind me through the mirrors. As I did this I heard a loud thud toward the front of the car.
I had hit something!
I slowed the car and searched the road through the rear view mirror.
There it was…
A small starling lay on the road.
I reversed the car and got out. It was still alive! Its head was bleeding. I could see a small piece of the bird’s skull through its feathers.
I picked it up and returned to my car. I put the bird on the passenger seat. I can remember feeling the warmth of its damaged body.
I turned on the heaters of the car in an attempt to warm the creature. Its head was still bleeding.
With the bird on the seat next to me and the drawing catching my eye every time I looked in the rear view mirror, I bewilderedly continued home.

The bird began to move…

Suddenly it fluttered back to life! It flew onto the head rest of the car seat.
It looked at me. Its black eyes, bleeding head and exposed skull offered an iridescent and horrific sight to behold.
I remember being aware of the surreal nature of that moment. The bird continued to sit on the headrest. I could see that it was still dazed as we travelled on, now, on slower, busier roads.
I decided, as we were almost home, that I would put the bird in the downstairs toilet of the house. I would treat its wounded head with anti-sceptic and feed it bread. Worms from the garden if needs be.

We arrived home, pulling up onto the drive.
I turned off the engine.
As I did this the bird was startled. It was as though at that point it became aware of its bizarre, motorised cage and human companion.
It flew onto the backseat.
As it did so it fluttered furiously against the drawing.
I reached behind me in an effort to grab the bird. To my surprise I caught it as it settled briefly. I cupped it carefully in my hands as I managed to open the door, just catching the handle with the little finger of my right hand.
I stepped out of the car. I felt light headed and confused.
I tripped and fell forward.
Falling to ground I lost hold of the bird.
It instantly flew skywards.

My movements and the flight of the bird exactly mirroring the movements of the figure and the bird in the drawing!

I leant against the car to gather my thoughts.
This was all too much!
The past few weeks had been strange. Lucid Dreams and now this!

I slowly pulled myself together.
I reached into the back of the car to retrieve the drawing. I could not believe what I saw…

The bird had left a long splash of blood from its wounded head on the drawing.
Amazingly the mark that it had made travelled exactly from the bottom left of the image to the top right.
The drawn image of the bird and its path across the picture was now traced with the blood of the bird.

Shaken I took the drawing indoors…

I looked at it for a long time that night.

Other People’s Dreams

I place my beer bottle on the CD case.
The CD is by one of my favourite bands.
I recall some of the songs.
I wonder at what inspired the tracks.
What provoked the writer?
What life experience twisted and abstracted those words?
An album full of someone else’s thoughts and dreams?

I look about the room that I am in.
CD’s and their cases are strewn across the coffee table.
Some of them have fallen onto the floor.

I look at my half full bottle of beer,
It has left a ring, a stain on the CD case.
Its shape cuts through the song titles on the reverse of the case.

I’m using the case as a coaster for my drink!
I’m using one person’s life and music as a f***king coaster.

I see all of those CD’s.
I see all of those lives that have made those songs.
I look at the small sculptures that sit on the mantle.
I see the paintings and prints on the wall.
I’m struck by the notion that I am surrounded by the dreams of others!
I look at the beer bottle on the CD case.
I see the life of the Graphic Artist,
That dreamt the design of the bottles label.
I see his proud parents, I see him drawing into the late hours.

We are inundated with the dreams of others all day long.
We walk on them,
Carelessly,
Like walking on shells on a beach.
We feed from them.
We collect them.
We store them, sometimes alphabetically,
Ready to match the mood we feel.
A track for every one of our fears or anxieties.
That reflect our happiness,
Or our despair.

I start to tidy the CD’s.
Carefully matching each disc to its case.

My First Lucid Dream

This is an account of my first lucid dream.
I’m four years old.
It is interesting to note that I remember this dream with more clarity than, ‘awake,’ experiences of the time.
The dream took place at nursery school. We had all been playing in a large classroom. The school teacher tells us that it’s time for a nap. We all get a matt from a shelf in the room. We did this every day. We would drink milk, eat lunch, play and then sleep. I remember that when the other children slept, I would usually stay awake. I would take books from the shelf and look at the pictures inside.

For some reason, on this day I lay down and went to sleep.

I start to dream…

I am aware that the other children are all asleep.
I am awake, yet asleep.
In my dream state I get up. The teacher is asleep in her chair.
I quickly busy myself with waking all the children, some continue to sleep, but most of them wake up.
I run to the wall to my right.
I ask the other children to help me push the wall.
We all push together, with all our might.
We push and push, until…

The wall collapses outwards onto an amazing sight!
There are huge butterflies and giant sweets, Sesame Street meets Charlie and The Chocolate factory!
We all storm out through the whole in the wall. I can still hear them cheer, I felt heroic.
I felt innocent, I felt elated.
I felt…

Awake.

An Early Lucid Dream

I’m ten years old. I have a fever.
I’m in bed. The small room that I’m in is dark.
My eyes have become accustomed to it.
I ache.
My head spins.
I close my eyes.

Suddenly I wake.
I’m at the wrong end of the bed!
I sit up.
I see myself!
I see myself sleeping!
I’m frightened.
I take one final, terrified look at myself and squeeze my eyes tightly shut.
I pray that this will stop.
How can there be two of me?
I keep my eyes shut for several minutes,
I try to summon the courage to open them again.
When I do I am back with my head on my pillow.
I look to the bottom of the bed.
It’s O.K.
There is no one looking back at me.

Dream Thief

It’s dark. I’m on a street that I’ve never seen before. I become aware of something in my pocket…
Paper money! It is a foreign currency that I do not recognise.
I study it in the dim light cast by lanterns from across the way.
Suddenly my money is snatched from me. The thief is fast. I see his face. He is quicker than me. I am angry.
I wake up.
I am annoyed that my money was stolen.
I return to my bed with the intention of re-visiting the dream, to apprehend the thief, to get my money back.

I do not dream after this point. I do not retrieve my money.

Lucid Dream Before Waking

As I dream, there is very little imagery. Only a slice of light, coming through a crack in a curtain into a darkened room.
The major sense that I am aware of is aural.
I can hear two monologues going on at the same time, like over lapping radio stations.
“What are we all doing here down on the ground?” I ask myself.
I will myself upwards. My eyes are closed.

Has Anyone Else Experienced Anything Like This?

I’d love to hear from anyone that may have experienced any Lucid Dream events.